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despairforme · 1 year ago

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why do you like nnoitra so much he’s fucking ugly

[ I SPOT A CHANCE TO TALK ABOUT MY LOVE FOR NNOITRA IMMA TAKE IT !! First of all, my liking for a character is usually not based on how "good looking" said character ( I mean, some of my favorite One Piece characters are Perospero and Spandam ) is. In my portrayal of Nnoitra, he shares your opinion that he is fucking ugly fjfjfjjf, but he just doesn't mind. BUT IN MY UNBIASED OPINION --- ! Nnoitra is SUPER PRETTY !!!! Like OH MY GOD have you seen this man ?? ( Also, when I talk about Nnoitra's appearance, I do so from a completely platonic pov, I find it quite uncomfortable when people express physical attraction towards my muses ). ANYWAYS, yes, Nnoitra is incredibly pretty. I guess I just have a liking for "unconventional" beauty.

Nnoitra's build. Even though he hates it himself, I find it SO pretty. His build has influenced my drawing style, where I draw a dorito shaped torso fjfjfj. I mean his super broad shoulders and wide chest, and then that tiny tiny tiny waist... And his loooong skinny arms and looong legs?? He's got these odd exaggerated proportions that give him such a striking, recognisable silhouette. I also love being able to see his ribs and spine because I love drawing those things! I love that Nnoitra doesn't have the copy-paste "anime build". Makes him more unique. I just love how long he is? And also that he's so incredibly strong even though he looks so skinny. It's the "don't judge a book by its cover" vibe. And, of course, can't mention his build without mentioning his height. Nnoitra is amazingly tall, but not so tall that it can't be adapted to real life, which I'm SO happy about. It means I can write him in his main (human) verse without changing his height (like I have to do for my One Piece muses who are over 3 meters tall ). I just love how he's so tall and skinny. It gives him such a threatening vibe? I think he'd be less scary looking if he had a large build. There is something unnerving about an incredibly tall skinny dude?? I don't know how to explain it but I just love the vibe!

Nnoitra's face. Hello YES once again I'm so happy he doesn't have a copy+paste face. I feel like a lot of the Bleach characters have really similar faces, but with Nnoitra, he's unique. He's got his own design that doesn't resemble anyone else's. His face is quite long, but doesn't appear long, because it just fits perfectly with his body. His sharp jawline and pointy chin and his single squinty eye... Holy HECK he's so pretty?? Though my favorite part of his face is for sure his mouth. I love that he basically has no bottom lip, because his lips are so thin. It makes him really easy to draw. And, of course, the absolute best part! His HUGE piano teeth! This is where he absolutely goes way out of proportions and I LOVE IT SO MUCH !!!!! His teeth give him the most sinister, evil look. Like, he's supposed to be a monster and he's got the teeth to match. I love the manga panels of him where he's drawn with a HUGE mouth. Those panels are so effective and intense and portray emotion that normal "pretty looking panels" just don't. With such an amazing design that Nnoitra has, which is not SUPPOSED to look "pretty", he can be drawn much more dramatically, and that's amazing. Also just... Piano teeth are generally the best. Like they're so square. So perfect. Also gotta mention Nnoitra only having a single eye. When it comes to drawing him, this is a blessing. I love the angle of his eye, and the color. Storm grey, like that colour the sky has right before it starts raining like hell. Also... Have you seen his eyelashes? Stunning. I really like how his eyepatch compliments his face. If it was smaller it would look sort of odd imo, so the size is perfect. AND!! Another important thing about his design is that he doesn't have eyebrows in canon. I don't know why but I have a huge deal for characters without eyebrows fjfjfj I tend to not give my OCs eyebrows in their designs I don't know why. I feel like it just leaves the face so much more open and not as "cluttered" when you draw it IDK! Tho I do give Nnoitra eyebrows in his human!au.

HAIR!!!!! Can we talk about how Nnoitra has the prettiest hair you'll ever see? It's drawn SO shiny and smoooth in the manga. It always frames his face perfectly, and almost never looks messy, despite all the things Nnoitra goes through. Clearly it's really thick and heavy. And ink black which contrasts so perfectly to the really pale skintone they gave him in the anime ( which I use for my portrayal ). I think Nnoitra looks really good with his shorter hair as well, but yeah something about his long hair is just so majestic. And I also think it helps portray his depressive vibes. Like the panels where he's sitting... The way his hair falls just seems heavy.

HANDS!!!!! Who doesn't like pretty hands? IDK. And Nnoitra's got THE prettiest hands. Because they're unconventional. They're HUGE. Like really goddamn enormous? I think he's got the biggest hands in bleach fjfjfjf. His fingers are SO sharp and skinny. And bony. And also somehow he's got pretty nails. Hands are my favorite thing to draw and drawing Nnoitra's hands?? - chef's kiss - I just love the details.

And his outfit! People always say Nnoitra's outfit looks silly. That he looks like a spoon. And, yeah, he does look like a spoon. I affectionately refer to him as "my spoon" when I talk about him. He's got an outfit design you actually remember. It's unique, it's characteristic. You can see his silhouette and immediately identify him. I just imagine how terrifying it is for the other Arrancar when they suddenly see his shadow. They'll know exactly who is standing behind them. His tight fitting jacket really brings his build out in a way a fluffy jacket just wouldn't. And his neck looks so long and thin thanks to the way his collar is?? Also the fact that he wears bracelets that would make it harder to fight... It's such a good addition. Like why did Kubo bother giving a minor character like that SIX bracelets that he'd have to draw?? I love it. And Nnoitra's wide pants which are stuffed into his boots to reveal his incredibly thin ankles... Holy heck. 5/5. I think he'd look less threatening if his pants were tight-fitting ( and also would be impractical for fighting ), so this is such a nice move. AND ALSO HIS TINY FEET!! The fact that he wears high heels and that his boots have that curved tip... And his feet STILL look small for such a tall man... I love it. It's endearing somehow. And, guys, high heels were worn by men long before they became fashion for women, so this has nothing to do with Nnoitra being "feminine", because he just isn't.

SANTA TERESA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Cannot talk about his design without mentioning ( my unbiast ) favorite Zanpakuto. Everyone in Bleach has sort of a small Zanpakuto, at least when it's not released. But Nnoitra? Nope. It's HUGE. It's freaking enormous. It's like a battle axe, but times two. The crescent shape, one pointed at his enemy, one pointed at himself, is so symbolic. And how skinny the handle is, which would mean it's super uncomfortable to wield... And how black the blade is. Like death. The chain always attached to him, like an anchor. That incredibly eerie sound it makes when he moves... GOOSEBUMPS !!

So yeah, I absolutely do not think Nnoitra is ugly. He's got that awkward, strange beauty about him. The reason why I started loving him in the first place, was because I randomly drew him one day. I was just sketching some Bleach characters, and I drew him, and something happened. It's quite hard to explain, but I got the urge to draw him again. And again. And again. Something about him inspired me. Something about how it felt to draw him. Honestly, when I started drawing him, I didn't even care that much about his character. I hadn't really "noticed" him when I watched Bleach. But as I started drawing him more, I went back and re-watched, and - I was completely sold on him. I started drawing A LOT more than I ever had before, and it gave me a different sort of joy. I felt happy drawing him. I think it's hard to explain if you've never had a muse before.

( muse - a person or personified force who is the source of inspiration for a creative artist. )

For me, that was, and is and always will be - Nnoitra. After drawing him for nearly a year, I started to write him on tumblr. My portrayal in the beginning was... Quite questionable ( I was very young, don't judge me ), but OH MY GOD !!!!! How much fun I had !!!! The very first month of writing him I wrote almost 50k words for him. I had never had this much fun with anything. Never felt so inspired. And it's been like that ever since 2014.

WHY do I love Nnoitra so much?

He is my inspiration. No matter how I'm feeling ( I have a chronic illness so I'm often in a lot of pain ), writing Nnoitra can make me feel better. Little things in my everyday life that remind me of him makes me happy. Like getting a milkshake because in his opinion you can't go on a roadtrip without it, or going for a walk because Nnoitra loves being outdoors. I always, ALWAYS want to write for him ( even though I often physically can't ). Having something to always return to, always want to do is a blessing.

I've met amazing people and had amazing experiences because of him. All the friends I've made online, some who I've been friends with for almost a decade, are friends I met because of Nnoitra. I used to be REALLY shy and insecure, but after I started writing Nnoitra, that just went away. I forever felt confident and comfortable. I've had no trouble reaching out and chatting with people. I've gotten to write incredible plots and had so much fun. All thanks to the confidence Nnoitra has given me.

Nnoitra's character overall to me is so interesting. He's so complex. Yes, he's an absolutely horrible person, and I find writing about that to be incredibly intriguing. There is pretty much no "limit" to Nnoitra's story, because he's NOT the good guy, he doesn't GET a "happily ever after". I've been writing his main-verse story for almost 10 years now, and there is still so much left to write. I love all the contradicting aspects of Nnoitra. How he's fiercely loyal, but that turns into possessiveness. How he wants to be cared for, but is selfish as hell. How he hurts others knowingly. How he knows he's a bad person. I love the small tiny glimpses of his humanity when it shines through. I love his bravery because no matter how heavy life feels to him, he always gets back up. He feels very REAL to me. He's got many sides to him. Most of them ugly, but all of them real. I always know how he's going to react in situations, because of how good a character he is. ( I don't mean good as in morally good, I mean good as in well thought out ). I love putting him in different situations ( aus ) to see how things go for him. The fact that he stays the same character regardless of scenario is amazing to me. You can change his whole life story, and somehow he's still there. Recognisable.

I guess it's not easy for people to understand why I love him so much. Definitely people in my real life don't understand why I dedicate so much time to an obscure ( they also think he's ugly ) character. But to me it's like ?? Nnoitra is my light? My inspiration? I love him. ]

#[ HELLO ANON 8))))) ]#[ i saw this first thing in the morning and ]#[ IT WAS THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY !! ]#[ never underestimate my ability to talk about him ]#[ HIM HIM HIM HIM HIM ALL DAY EVERY DAY ]#[ thank you for sending the ask 8)))) i enjoyed replying to it ]#longpost //#toby post. ╱ out of character.

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libraryogre · 1 month ago

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I wrote something similar to this... less aboyt unfucking specific ancestries, and more about the philosophies behind racism in RPGs.

So, recently, I've started saying "More Pratchett than Tolkien" to describe my approach to D&D (and other RPGs, but it seems to be more an issue with those who prefer older versions of D&D). But what do I see that as meaning? I've got a few points on this; mostly what I perceive as being the core parts of a "Tolkien" mindset of game worlds, versus a "Pratchett" mindset. Note that I am not ascribing these opinions specifically to JRR Tolkien, but rather than Lord of the Rings is frequently invoked as defense of them. After this, I'll avoid referring to this as "Tolkien" or words derived from that; my statement is pithy, better for a signature than discussion.

1) Racism as a necessary component

One of the primary objections to playing a "humanoid" character is that the character will face insurmountable racism; the 1e DMG says "So unless the player desires a character which will lurk alone somewhere and be hunted by adventurers", before going on to explain that one might want to play a gold dragon, because it can look human, but that no gold dragon would want to do this. The games will often include something like a "Basic Acceptability of Racial Types" table; 1e has one in the PH to cover humans and demi-humans, and the DMG has one to cover most types of humanoids in their interactions with each other; Hackmaster includes it in the PH. With this, it is argued, the game wouldn't be "realistic".

Leaving aside the conception of a world which must, necessarily, include often violent racism, it also shows a lack of imagination, or consideration of the nature of the world presented in D&D and similar games... while many different species live in the world, Good and Evil are real and quantifiable things, and there are gods who can communicate relatively freely with their worshipers on the Prime Material (if they don't live there themselves). A view where violent, unexamined racism can leave one still aligned as "Good" is one that is alien to any understanding of the word "Good" that I have, much less the definition of "Good" as laid out in the 1e DMG. "Basically stated, the tenets of good are human rights, or in the case of AD&D, creature rights. Each creature is entitled to life, relative freedom, and the prospect of happiness. Cruelty and suffering are undesirable." (p 23) How is this compatible with the idea that Good people can freely kill non-combatants of "evil" races?

A particularly evident argument of this is seen in half-orcs (and, in Hackmaster, half-hobgoblins). The 1e PH states that "some one-tenth of orc-human mongrels ore sufficiently non-orcish to pass for human." (p 17). Hackmaster has "Note that even where hobgoblins are acceptable, half-hobgoblins are mistreated and disliked by the locals. Half-hobgoblins share a special bond with half-orcs,alongside whom they are often persecuted as beastly monsters." (HM PH, 31) Despite both being specifically being called out as being non-sterile hybrids, the only consideration is that all half-humanoids will "will always have an human mother and have been born and raised in human lands" and be "The offspring of questionable parentage and violent couplings" (HM PH, 31); none will be, for example, the offspring of a mommy sil-karg and a daddy sil-karg who love each other very much. Hackmaster mentions that "The city of Prompeldia has developed a sizable sil-karg quarter that is threatening to become large enough to count as its own culture." (HM PH, 31). But all will be "The offspring of questionable parentage and violent couplings."

A Pratchett-style view of the game does not pretend that racism does not exist, but rather disputes the idea that it is insurmountable. The dwarves and trolls of Ankh-Morpork do begin with hatred, but they reach an uneasy peace when forced into proximity by the city. Sam Vimes, like many in the city, is riddled with prejudices about non-humans and the undead, but he overcomes them as he deals with them as people. Some of this is inspired by Carrot, the human raised by dwarves, who still considers himself a dwarf in many respects... but also respects all people, learning their names and treating them as citizens, not as trolls or gargoyles.

2) Race as unbending identity

"Humans with pointy ears" is frequently invoked when you have a non-human character who is perceived to act unlike their stereotype, or one of the acceptable range of stereotypes. Are your dwarves "not dwarven enough?" Does he like wine instead of ale? Does he shave his beard? Is he a dagger wielding tunnel rat, instead of a chain-mail clad warrior with an axe? You're playing a short human, not a REAL dwarf.

This also tends to get invoked when dealing with traditionally hostile non-humans. An elf or dwarf might violate their racial alignment, but a good orc? Unheard of. It's argued that it is impossible for any of the "humanoids" to be other than their Monster Manual entries, despite that never really being written anywhere, and several counter-examples, especially from 2nd edition (such as the Monster Mythology deity who prizes his good bugbear converts). Gary Gygax, revered by many old school gamers, even stated "The old addage [sic] about nits making lice applies", referring to noted proponent of genocide John Chivington's statements about Native Americans. As I have argued before, Dungeons and Dragons owes a lot to Westerns, and the attitude towards humanoids in a game tends to mirror the attitude towards Native Americans in contemporary Westerns; in Chato's Land (1973), you have a half-Indian protagonist, while Dances with Wolves (1990) presents the Native Americans as the sympathetic characters.

One objection to having the possibility of non-evil humanoids is the idea that a DM may use these as "gotchas"... "You killed all of these orcs but they were secretly good so now you're all evil!". But this argument fails, in my opinion, as one could also use that as an argument against DMs... "We found a vorpal sword in a crypt guarded by a skeleton with no legs!" It is always possible for a bad DM to make a bad game.

A more Pratchett-style game recognizes that the stereotypes exist, and may be the norm, but they are not the only way characters of that race can be played. Pratchett's dwarves are uniformly male-presenting, with beards and axes and iron boots, with one's actual sex being so concealed that the beginning of a dwarven courtship is "find out if the person is the correct gender." In Feet of Clay, however, we're introduced to Cheri Littlebottom, a dwarf woman who doesn't want that. She wants dresses and jewelry, lipstick and high heels welded to her iron boots. It is noted to be unusual. Other dwarves react with disgust... but it also doesn't make her impossible to exist as a character. Other examples include trolls who join the watch, vampires in the Überwald League of Temperance who abstain from intelligent blood, and golems who buy their freedom to become their own selves.

3) Only certain races are proper.

Some of this ties into the distinctions drawn between humans, demi-humans (elves, dwarves, gnomes, and halflings), semi-humans (half-elves, half-orcs, half-hobgoblins), and humanoids (orcs, goblins, gnolls, etc.). In the older game mindset, players should only be humans, demi-humans, and semi-humans; anything else is too weird or outlandish. For this, I will set aside the humanoids; I feel the objections to them are largely addressed above. This is addressed to what are often seen as the more exotic races... dragonborn, warforged, tabaxi, and the like.

The older mindset tends to describe these are unnecessary. I've even had someone describe the non-evil drow, minotaurs, and other uncommon races described as "played out", as if the dwarves with beards and axes griping at the elves of the forests isn't itself cliche at this point. The small stable of relatively human races is seen as a bonus... provided they don't go outside "appropriate" for their species, that they're human-like is enough. Orcs and humanoids are rejected as above, but there's also examples like Lizardfolk (who have always been Neutral, if cannibals) who are part of the world, but considered too out there for PCs.

The Pratchett-inspired game eschews this; while golems are unusual in Ankh-Morpork, and certainly powerful (more powerful than you might want in a low-level game), Warforged are a similar idea, but rendered playable. Tabaxi represent a different kind of character than "short and resistant to magic in some way". Dragonborn evoke the namesake of the game, again providing a different sort of character to play. That these exist don't invalidate the options to play elves, dwarves, and halflings. A Pratchett-inspired game will have a more cosmopolitan approach to races, both in terms of racism (as above), and in terms of options.

Unfucking Dungeons & Dragons

The concept of some humanoid or near-humanoid species being naturally inclined to evil is a racist one, and, unfortunately, a prevalent one in Dungeons & Dragons, exacerbated by the fact that these “evil species” are frequently the “ugly” ones. Drow are a particularly glaring example - “made black because of their ‘evil’”?! Fuck you - but the duergar - “the slaves … learned only to enslave, really makes you think don’t it” - and the orcs - “they feel the CALL to evil in their Gruumshy HEARTS” - are also super not good. (There’s also a fair degree of ableism, with “insane” monsters - in such cases, I honestly think “unaligned” would be a better description for “too far gone to understand morality”. Evil implies a choice.) Honestly, I wouldn’t mind so much if these weren’t supposed to be naturally-occurring species - always evil demons or fey are fine, because they’re made of magic and stories, although care should of course be taken not to make them look like naturally-occurring species - but elves are really just fragile pointy-eared monkeys, and they have excuses. However, these evil humanoids are also genre staples and often quite aesthetically good. To that end, I offer the Unfucking D&D Guide, which provides what I think are solutions to this problem. (It should be noted that I am whiter than plain yogurt, so my ideas should be taken with a grain of salt and definitely not take precedence over the ideas of non-white folks. If I’ve said something fucked-up in this, please let me know and I’ll fix it.)

Duergar. Keep the “enslaved by illithids, made grim & psionic” bit, toss the “learnt evil from them” part. The duergar are joyless, or can appear so - you can play them either as gloomy and fatalistic or as eccentric and unreasonably concerned with “corruption” - but despite whatever mood they possess, make sure that they are thoroughly dedicated to making sure the horrors of the Underdark stay in the Underdark, and are as righteous and honorable as their hill and mountain cousins.

Derro. The derro are an “insane” species; I bring them up only because I saw them confused with duergar in one post about racism in D&D. Their lore has not been constant - the current lore is “dwarves enslaved by illithids, tortured into madness, and now they’re eeeeeeeevil”, which is ableist, not racist - but their metatextual origin is among the detrimental robots, or Deros, of pulp author Richard Sharpe Shaver’s stories (or possibly delusions). “Born from the dreams of a mad author” would actually be good lore if you can make that author a tragic sufferer of schizophrenia in a time before it was understood rather than an ~*~eViL mAdMaN~*~, but in any event, change their type to construct, fey, or fiend, and, most importantly, don’t take them seriously. The derro are pulp villains, and their evil is grandiose and nonsensical. They ought not to be seen as realistic; they ought to be seen as Snidely Whiplash, Commander Claw, or Heinz Doofenshmirtz. “Reasons” are for other genres.

Drow. Return drow to their mythical roots as trow, nocturnal hunters, tricksters, and magical artisans dwelling in the hollow hills. There’s high and wood elves; dark elves can find a niche. Lolthite culture is good villain fodder, but make sure that you can handle an “evil religion”, and make sure that all types of elves participate.

Goblinoids and trolls. Make them fey, and abandon Tolkien for Rossetti and folktale. Goblins make cruel bargains; hobgoblins attend faerie courts; bugbears hide in closets and create electricity from feed on children’s screams; trolls lurk under bridges and love riddles. As fey, they’re not evil, simply alien and lacking in empathy towards mortals.

Gnolls. If you use the Volo’s lore, change their type to fiend and be done with it. If you want to have them be natural humanoids, go read Ursula Vernon’s Digger for the best-written hyaena-furries in literature and base gnolls off that once you’re done crying.

Kobolds. Kobolds are already draconic cleaner wrasses in lore; there’s no reason that metallic dragons can’t enjoy them as well and influence some populations to good.

Illithids. The mind flayers certainly have great potential as villains. However, there is nothing about their psychology that impels them thither. Their biological requirements could easily be met by feeding on those close to death, whom I might imagine would willingly donate their brains as food or tadpole incubators in exchange for a painless death and the surety that their memories would live on in the illithid. Also, create food and water spells exist.

Ogres. Ogres are wilderness-dwellers who prefer to maintain their personal territories through fear instead of actual force of arms; the idea of the monstrous, anthropophagous ogre is a deliberate sham. They are actually capable of great heroism, even if they aren’t exactly the sharpest tools in the shed and okay to be honest I started out trying to build up to a Shrek joke but I think I’d take this over canon lore.

Orcs. Orcs are an easy fix; all you need to do is remove Gruumsh from the equation and they don’t have a bullshit “call to evil”; in Eberron, without objective gods, the people of the Shadow Marches believe that half-orcs are the proof that orcs and humans are one people, so there’s even in-game precedent for orcs as members of society.

Yuan-ti. There are two ways to do this. One is to dump all the lore and just have sexy snake cults, although don’t dress them like Asian or Aztec stereotypes like a lot of the art does. (The 3.5 Monster Manual yuan-ti pureblood looks like she’s constantly accompanied by an inappropriate bamboo flute riff, I swear to Istus.) A sexy snake cult (and I am including malisons, abominations, and anathemas in the term “sexy”, not just purebloods) should be fun for everyone.

The other way is to keep their personalities and dump everything else, because if you keep that, you get truly excellent villains. I mean, these fuckers. How dare they drag something as pure as snakes into their Ayn Rand bullshit. Villain yuan-ti should be something transformed from willing or deluded humanoids (histachii raise the sacred snakes and the children of the yuan-ti, who possess their parents’ original race at birth). Couple that with the fact that since snakes very definitely have emotions, yuan-ti logically should as well, which means that they only think they’re above emotions. Now you have Objectivists roped into a magical pyramid scheme, which should offend no-one who doesn’t deserve it. You can mourn for the beings they once were, or just laugh in their dumb faces. Also, the sexy ones all look like Ayn Rand.

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muzanswaifu · 2 years ago

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Shipping Discourse /Blocking/Bullying - Let’s Talk

Hello everyone, just thought I’d make a post to clear some things up based on some recent occurrences, a lot has happened

First and foremost, some people (possibly some of you reading this now somehow) may have noticed you have been blocked by me, I’m sorry if this has upset you but there is a reason for it, which is what I want to talk about in this post

Some of you may be familiar with the term pro-shipper, and if you aren’t, it essentially describes someone who supports a ship that is deemed problematic. An example of this would be Douma x Shinobu, which I have written about in the past and will continue to write about. And I understand completely why this ship is bad, I’ve watched the show. However, since some drama has been going around about this ship calling those who support it all sorts of names, I would like to offer my own perspective on what brought me to like it. I don’t like the ship realistically. It would’ve never been canon, Douma literally ruined her life and the lives of countless others. That’s not why I like the ship. I like the ship because I like enemies to lovers. The same reason I like Muzan x Yorichi, Rengoku x Akaza, ect, ect. Whether on a simple highschool rivalry scale, or a more drastic version, I like the trope. If you don’t like that ship or trope, that’s completely fine as well. Its just not for you, that’s okay. What isn’t okay is threatening those who do like those ship and telling them that they are disgusting and horrible human beings. That’s a little excessive, don’t you think?

On a smaller scale of things, let’s talk about the lesser of these “evils”: Regular ships/ non-problematic pairings, examples including Sanemi x Giyu, Rengoku x Giyu, Giyu x Shinobu, Obanai x Giyu, Mitsuri x Shinobu, Rengoku x Tengen. There has always been a big debate on these pairings in the anime community, ranging from disagreements in plausibility to straight up homophobia. I expected that type of discourse in the art and content-creator community. But to see this in the smut fan-fiction community was… disappointing. Specifically I would like to talk about the arguments going on about the Sanemi x giyu ship. And I’m going to tell those of you who loathe this ship what you really need to hear.

Get.

Over.

It.

The ship isn’t hurting you. Its not threatening your life. And for some of you to claim that it “triggers” you is both disgusting to hear and horribly offensive and demeaning to those who are actually triggered by certain circumstances and have to get medical help for it. I’ve seen these same people who claim to be adults throw a literal temper tantrum over people supporting this ship. And I don’t need any further evidence to see that these same individuals are obviously chronically online. Relationships aren’t that simple. People change. Sanemi obviously changed at the end of the series, they both did. So for you to use the argument that he was “abusive” to Giyu wasn’t necessarily wrong, but it definitely shows that you don’t have a very good grasp of both fictional dynamic characters and realistic change in human beings.

I can’t tell you how disappointed I am to see this behavior in the community of people claiming to be adults, so much so that this no longer feels like the erotic escape I thought it would be. It just feels like highschool. And I don’t enjoy writing smut for a community that behaves like such.

Now back to the original hook for this post - the blocking. Those of you who were blocked, I simply went down the list of mutuals of a certain individual who had high activity of this type of bullying and blocked everyone. This individual has a large history of drama related to shipping discourse, and overall immature behavior that has led us to be on bad terms. Again, if you see I have blocked you and you had no idea ab out this discourse, nor do you condone bullying for crack ships, message me from whatever alternate account you are viewing this from and I will unblock you. My system for it wasn’t perfect, nor did I look too deep into who was actively participating with this individual, I just went down their listing of mutuals and friends and blocked everyone because I didn’t want to take any chances.

I am not going to name names for who this person is, nor am I going to waste my time to argue, I don’t want anyone to give hate to this person or seek them out. All I ask is that you not be like this person. Don’t bully those who disagree with you, then cry victim when they defend themselves and give you back that same energy. Don’t be a hypocrite. Don’t vent your woes and frustrations to other creators and writers in the inbox - I’m sorry but that is just so disrespectful. Our blogs are for our own creativity and work, not facts about your life. Our other followers don’t want to see that, and it’s sours the mood when people trauma dump in our inbox.

In conclusion, I think I’m going to take a break for a while from interactions. I’ll still try my best to work on requests and posting but all of this has just been very disheartening. I guess I just wasn’t prepared for this kind of immaturity and bullying on this side of demon slayer. Nor did I know that this individual was participating in this until i found out they had blocked me out of the blue and were talking about me negatively to others.

And to the individual I’m talking about here, I know that your are likely seeing this and I want your to know how disappointed I am in your behavior. I truly do not believe you are a matured adult and you have a lot of growing to do. You knew from the start the ships I wrote about, and you used me as a venting point for your own interests and amusement until I guess you were done using my platform as a stage. Then I found out you were not only talking about me but several others behind our back to people who would have no other option but to believe you first and foremost because what other option do they have? Kinda like my first relationship lol. Maybe I should’ve learned from that experience but I’m kinda dumb.

And to those who she’s also done this to, I’m very sorry this happened to you and if you need to talk, I’m here.

Anyways, I’m done. I honestly don’t know what I’ll do for the remainder of my page. I’m not even sure I want to write anymore rn. I really don’t want to delete my page and I won’t but I just really need a break from all this.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba smut #kny #kny smut #smut #sanegiyuu #doushino #crack ships #rengiyuu

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itsclydebitches · 3 years ago

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Rewatching RWBY there's this chilling lack of empathy through the volumes that I used to just wave off. Yang has no empathy for Tai, Blake is just entirely about what Blake needs, Weiss almost kills a woman at a party and her takeaway is 'my dad is mean so I'm going to run away'. Qrow sinks hard into depression in vol. 6 and Ruby's reaction is to yell she's never needed him. No one has EVER helped a civilian. It's so prevelant. Knowing how 7&8 go really changes the earlier writing.

I think there was a great deal of well-written empathy in the early volumes — after all, this cast was designed as the kind, well-meaning heroes — but that care was expressed almost solely within the group itself. Ruby sits by Jaune in the hallway and says "Nope!" to his self doubt. Weiss offers Ruby a hand up after she fails to kill the death stalker. Yang seeks out Blake and gets her to open up about what's bothering her. Now, I want to emphasize that there's nothing inherently wrong with this. It actually makes perfect sense. These are our main characters and they're written as peers co-habiting the same space. Of course whatever emotional growth we get, which automatically includes moments of compassion, would be directed towards each other. Similarly, the dynamics originally introduced — that of teachers and parents — likewise (rightly) puts the burden on the adults to provide the comfort, not the other way around. Port snaps Weiss out of her arrogant mindset. Ozpin reassures Ruby about her leadership worries. Tai is there to support his daughter when she's recovering from a lost limb. That's the natural order of things, so to speak.

The problem, to my mind, begins to occur when the group exits those dynamics. They're no longer students, they're licensed huntsmen. They're no longer kids, but equals who never needed adults in the first place. They're no longer doing things for themselves and their friends on personal downtime, they're doing them for the community at large as a profession (to say nothing of the world-altering war they've insisted on shouldering responsibility for). That's what a huntsmen is meant to be, a defender of the people, not someone who uses that power for personal interests alone. All of this is a huge change from where we started out: cutesy kids going off on comparatively low-stakes adventures because one or more of their teammates are invested, only just beginning to realize that they're signing up for a job where their desires come second (that fireside conversation at Mountain Glenn).

This change invites — demands, really — that the audience read them differently too. Qrow's spiral in Volume 6 is a good example of this. If Ruby is demanding to be treated not just as an equal in terms of maturity and experience, but also as the primary leader of this group, then the viewer expects her to treat her uncle as an equal too, not dismiss his hardship. I've seen numerous fans defend that arc with some version of, "He's her uncle. He's supposed to take care of her. He's failing" but that, according to the show, is no longer the dynamic. Qrow is now just a member of Ruby's team, someone she's responsible for as their leader. It's easiest to see the problem if we switch out Qrow for any of the other members. If Blake developed a drinking problem, do we think Ruby would just shout at her until she magically got over it? If Jaune endangered the group, do we think they'd all be angry about it, rather than trying to figure out the source of what caused the mistake? We don't even need to think hypothetically for that one because we saw it on screen. Jaune attacked Oscar and drove him off, not just threatening him, but arguably endangering the whole team by requiring a search party. Fans have long insisted they had to steal that airship right then because being in Argus was too much of a risk, but if we buy that reading (which I personally don't, but), then that means Jaune made things exponentially worse by forcing them out into that super dangerous city, rather than allowing everyone to stay hidden inside. He made a massive mistake which, according to the logic of Qrow's arc, should be met with frustration, disdain, and eventual demands to get over his anger at Ozpin or ship out. But, of course, he received nothing but concern. Yang was worried about him, not Oscar. The search becomes about his grief for Pyrrha and his team's willingness (as well as Pyrrha's family member) to provide more comfort. Suddenly, the tendency to express care solely towards those within the group becomes a flaw the story won't acknowledge.

And then it spirals. The thing to remember is that no single act here is bad on its own, especially when we consider that yes, we want flawed characters. Rather, it's about the pattern. Ruby is allowed to get mad at Qrow for his behavior and chuck her scroll in frustration. She's human. I'd be crazy frustrated too. However, if Ruby is meant to be written as a caring, sympathetic character, she should not only respond to the situation with frustration, yelling, a refusal to listen, and demands that he follow her lead, no questions asked. We can, and should, acknowledge that Weiss was the victim during that party. Her father was hurting her, the woman was beyond insensitive, Weiss was triggered in regards to a horrific event, and her power acted on its own. However, if we want to write Weiss as a compassionate, mature huntress to-be, she should acknowledge that she nearly killed someone — even an asshole someone — and vow to work on her control because she's not willing to put someone in danger like that ever again. Both of these moments have a "They could have been handled better" response attached to them — the former more-so than the latter imo — but these moments are made far, far worse due to later events in the show, events where the characters are cruel without any justification attached. Weiss didn't mean to attack that woman, but she did mean to ignore Whitely and threaten him with her weapon. So once we see that, it informs our understanding of what came before it. "Oh. The fact that Weiss never reacted to nearly killing someone isn't just a bit of missed potential, it's an early indicator that she... doesn't seem to care. If she endangers people, threatens people... that's fine with her." The group has a right to be frustrated with Qrow. The group did not have the right to magically steal Ozpin's entire life story, assault him, and blame him for the world's problems until he felt his only course of action was to run from them. So when we see that it becomes, "Oh. The fact that the group treated Qrow so poorly isn't just a one-time mistake born of a stressful situation and young adults being out of their depth in regards to alcoholism. They really will just abandon anyone the moment they start making mistakes." Anyone outside of their group, that is.

To say nothing of how all of these moments interconnect. Yang's recovery isn't just about getting used to not having an arm, it's about getting used to having a new one. Weiss' party isn't just about nearly killing someone, it's about not committing manslaughter because someone else stepped in. The Volume 6 arc isn't just about trying to escape with the Relic, it's about trying to get it somewhere safe. Fans frustrated with Ironwood's treatment don't harp on these details out of some desperate attempt to make him look good post-murder spree, rather, they recognize that he's a character that's been around since nearly the beginning, originally written as a good guy, and thus has accumulated a number of key connections with the cast. So when none of those connections are acknowledged during an arc about trust... that makes the group look very uncaring. Yang doesn't care that he gave her the arm, Weiss doesn't care that he saved her from hurting/potentially killing someone, Qrow doesn't care that he's trusted Ironwood for years (in a rival-bros way) and that they've been heading towards him this whole time. And when Ironwood begins to spiral, they don't do anything to try and help him, let alone acknowledge that their own choices, that lack of trust and empathy, had a hand in getting them here. "But it's not their responsibility to fix him!" Isn't it? Even a little? Just as human beings seeing an ally struggling under horrific decisions and circumstances? Sure, they don't have to try... but that doesn't make them look very heroic to my mind. And we can't even shrug that off by simplifying things with, "Well, Ironwood is evil now so who cares about him." They simultaneously don't care about finding Qrow who is missing, then captured. They don't do anything to try and find their missing teammates, with the exception of sending May to do it instead. They don't help the army fight off the grimm. Don't try to make sure Pietro and Maria had portals to escape through. Barely hesitate when the newly resurrected characters goes, "Kill me. That's the easiest thing for everyone." And these are just a few of the big ticket moments. It doesn't even begin to cover all the details we get that paint a picture of, "Wow okay. They just really don't care about people outside the group, huh? I mean, they say they do, in a life-or-death way, but they're not putting forth effort to show it on a daily basis."

And if you pick up on all that, if you acknowledge how much the group has changed based on where they started out, you might wonder when in the world that started. Surely we didn't just flip a switch around Volume 6. So you re-watch early stuff and, sure enough, there are moments that feel like setup for what's to come later. Not intentional setup (quite obviously), but a lack of care towards details across the series that, once the dynamic changed, became far, far more pronounced. Characters should be at least somewhat recognizable from start to finish, especially characters who have only experienced about two years of in-world time, so if we now get to see Ruby blandly commenting on all the people who are dying, or Weiss using her weapon as a means of coercing her little brother into doing what she wants, or Yang and Jaune dismissing Ren until he gives in to their point of view... we're going to look for the beginnings of that behavior early on. As you say, we were able to wave all those little details off due to a number of important factors. Now though? Now they feel like they hold a lot more weight, simply by virtue of that early material proceeding what we have now.

#rwby #rwde #mymetas

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the-ghost-king · 4 years ago

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So I'm not going to start like an Anti-Chiron tag because I don't find that enjoyable personally, but every so often people ask why I dislike him so here's essentially a "masterpost" of my thoughts on that situation for when anyone asks, just so I have it to explain some...

This isn't nearly a full list, and there's many more "incidents" that make me less than fond of Chiron, I don't hate the old man but he leaves a bad taste in my mouth and I'm not a fan of that. He's a very twisted character.

- The Lightning Thief

This quote is literally just after Percy's mom "dies", they're all sitting on the porch of the Big House right after he's finally woken up after days of sleeping, and that's the line Chiron pulls out on him.

That's straight up emotional manipulation which was entirely unnecessary in the context of what Chiron was trying to explain. There wasn't a single reason for that, in the slightest.

Immediately following that, and Percy, who canonically has anger issues, does his best to remain calm, he is immediately threatened by Dionysus, and Chiron doesn't even tell Dionysus off for doing that; Chiron just let's it happen. It's Grover who has to speak up to tell Dionysus off...

The only reason Chiron comes out looking like a old guy in this scene is because Dionysus was so much worse in his behavior, at one point intimidating Percy with his power over madness.

- The Titan's Curse

This is the aftermath of when Nico ran away upon confirmation of Bianca's death. When Percy is telling Chiron about the situation, Chiron wishes Nico had been eaten alive rather than recruited into an army.

He'd rather a child be dead than fight against him, and he openly tells this to other children he's in charge of. If Percy went missing would he have said "I hope he was eaten <3" as well?

I don't blame Perry for not delivering the truth here, it was done in an effort to protect Nico; which wasn't something Annabeth had planned on doing... I don't blame Annabeth for that though either, she's been beneath Chiron so long that she probably doesn't realize the shady stuff he does, and to her "going to tell" probably was the "right" move because she was a child...

But the fact that Chiron believes Nico truly would be better off eaten than alive :/

- Tower of Nero

This quote from Tower of Nero shows that Chiron lied to a bunch of young children (most of them were young because the older campers are largely dead because of the war or too old for camp now). It wasn't just a little white lie that adults sometimes tell kids either; they were walking into battle and he told them it was a field trip.

Did he even begin to explain the danger he was putting these kids in? Did the children understand their situation? And how dangerous it was?

Kayla has been blindsided over the years into thinking that telling children they're going on a field trip instead of fighting a battle is something to make a joke of and not be questioned... (Again, I don't blame her she's only like 12 in the book, but still)

Apollo also agrees, which isn't on Chiron but it's a whole mother reason why I can't stand Rick's interpretation of Apollo...

<><><><><>

This isn't me being like "oh Chiron is the worst most evil character ever" I just think that he has numerous flaws which are largely ignored in favor of the "perfect wise teacher" narrative when in fact Chiron and Dumbledore share a lot of.. Offputting qualities.

I do think that some of the situation is simply a result of Chiron having his hands tied behind his back by the gods some. And he even goes so far as to confirm this in a scene of TLT

However many of the scenes in which he exhibits behaviors like that in my first three screenshots are not related to anything the gods require and are, in fact, of Chiron's own free will.

Some things I would blame Zeus and the council for, such as how he withholds information from Percy to an excessive amount for long periods of time even when Percy straight up asks about things. I could easily see that being Zeus trying to prevent Percy from claiming the prophecy as his own, and I could see reasoning that maybe Chiron had sworn over the River Styx or something similar.

But those things don't apply to Chiron making such an unnecessary comment about Percy's mother so close to her "death". It doesn't explain why he would say he hoped Nico had been eaten out loud, and it doesn't cover the fact that he led children into a battlefield without telling them that's what was happening.

I think the context of Chiron's choices and comments would be different if the campers were older. If they were in their late teens or early twenties for the most part, I wouldn't really have much to say about how Chiron handled the situation.

But this man is in charge of children and extremely young teenagers, Percy is only 12 in TLT, maybe if he would have been 16 or 17 then I could give Chiron a pass, but he wasn't. Within the context of the comment he made in the Titan's Curse, Percy is only 14 and Nico is 10 at the beginning of the book... You don't wish a 10 year old had been eaten alive by a monster no matter how bad you think the alternative is, and if you do wish that you don't say it out loud to a group of other children. In the battle from Tower of Nero we get a quick look at the battlefield, and although Ben's age, and the age of another girl fighting alongside him are never confirmed they are implied to be fairly young, and we know Kayla is only 12 at the time too; yet Chiron told them it was a field trip instead of a battle, limiting the time they would have to mentally prepare themselves for what was coming.

On top of that, the nods the reader gets to the fact that Chiron can't act out against the gods depletes over the course of the series. After TLT the amount of times the situation involves the gods interfering with what Chiron is allowed to say lessens, and by the time the Heroes of Olympus series comes around, these limitations on his speech is almost entirely gone. Yet as seen in Tower of Nero he still does morally questionable things in regards to how he treats the campers.

Like I said, I recognize that in many scenes Chiron's hands are tied behind his back because of the gods.. But there are undeniably things he does of his own free will that are, in the nicest manner, very :/

This also isn't a full list of comparisons just a few notable scenes. I don't think Chiron is equally as bad as Dumbledore, but I think it undeniable that Chiron has some significant flaws built into his character design.

A good character has flaws, and there's nothing wrong with having a character that doesn't always conduct themselves properly or have good intentions- it's actually good writing, and I can appreciate that, but for some reason I find myself personally rubbed the wrong way by Chiron. This doesn't make Chiron badly written, or poorly designed, in fact I would say Rick's Chiron is very well designed in lots of ways, but I just don't like how it's never acknowledged by anyone in the series.

Like I said, I'm not starting an anti-Chiron situation, I just think little events like those mentioned, the way he's built a child army, and how he doesn't even try to plead with the gods over raising the ages on campers being allowed to battle is a little sus. But it more so bothers me that there's no attention payed to this problem anywhere in the books, not even by a side character or Luke, nowhere.

I don't actually care that much and this isn't that important to me, but sometimes people ask why I don't like Chiron and this is basically just my explanation to hand off to them... It's not even so much that I dislike Chiron entirely, he's well written and has his "good" moments, I just don't like the way other characters interact with him and his actions.

It's more a personal beef with him rather than an aspect of poor writing or him "being bad"... PJO in general (and HoO/ToA to a much lesser extent) shows that there's not such an inherent good vs bad in the world, and that sometimes people are victims of circumstances in some situations, or they're horribly misguided in their actions, but the series does a good job of showing those people as human still, and I applaud that.

I don't really know how to tie this up in its entirety, but there's nothing wrong with having a morally grey character who does questionable things and in many aspects it is good writing. I think Chiron is a result of Rick not thinking through the implications what he's doing in lots of situations, and I can see a fairly consistent drop in Chiron's characterization from PJO-ToA which is consistent with most other aspects of Rick's work.

I also want to clarify that if you like Chiron and disagree with me, that's absolutely 110% okay, I just personally dislike Chiron and that's on me. Like my problem with many of Rick's other immortal characters, I think he missed important aspects of them in some manner and slightly (or entirely in some cases) mischaracterized them in comparison to their original myths.. Some of these characters he came around on and fixed their character in many aspects to their more "correct" characterization (like Hera), while others (like Chiron and Apollo) he never quite figured them out. Which is a running complaint I have with Rick so I'm just adding this to his tab.

But yeah, I don't hate Chiron I just dislike him and those are different things, and I don't think it's a bad thing to have a morally questionable character, Chiron just personally rubs me the wrong way and I just wanted to explain that more fully because I've been asked about it multiple times.

Also I apologize for not adding a [read more] to this, it's a complaint of mine often when scrolling through the tags but I'm on mobile currently and don't have immediate access to a computer so~

#pjo #Hoo #Chiron pjo #percy jackson #long post

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deborahdeshoftim5779 · 2 months ago

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Anti-Zionists are appropriators and con artists par excellence. While insisting that the Jews have no legitimate claim to Israel, they beg, borrow, and steal every vestige of Jewish identity they can in order to whitewash their anti-historical and anti-Jewish invective.

The most pathetic aspect of anti-Zionism is its falsification of Judaism, while simultaneously accusing Zionist Jews of misusing said faith. It's even more pathetic when they resort to citing extremist and fascist Jews like the Neturei Karta, a sect rejected by almost all other Jews. (The Neturei Karta laundered the Jew-hatred of Iran's Ayatollah, visiting him in spite of Iran holding a cartoon contest that mocked the Holocaust.)

The fact that the Jewish religion centres around the fulfillment of religious promises in the Land of Israel obviously decimates anti-Zionist canards, but that doesn't stop these posers from attempting feats of mental gymnastics that would astonish the KGB. Perhaps they just cross out any references to Israel in their prayer books.

Notice that anti-Zionists, including anti-Zionist Jews would never dare to appropriate any feast day from Islam and make it political. Despite the overwhelming number of crimes against humanity committed by extremist Muslims inside and outside of the Middle East, we never hear anti-Zionists inventing an Eid for the sole purpose of condemning Muslim nations.

Nor do they ever decide-- or would ever dare to decide-- that Arab nationalism is invalid on account of the violent history and continued violent and genocidal behaviour of Arab nations such as Syria. This despite the glaring fact that the number of people killed by extremist Arab nationalism and Islamic terrorism far outweighs the number of people killed by Israeli wars and Jewish extremists.

It is this last fact that leads me (and probably others) to believe the hysteria against Israel displayed by Arabs and by Westerners is a concerted effort to deflect attention away from Arab and Muslim terrorism. Because after considering all of Israel's wrongdoing, any objective review of the Middle East could only ever conclude that Islamic terrorism is by far the biggest threat to peace and civilisation. Yet the effort to defeat said terrorism is puerile, while the effort to destroy Israel is monumental.

I suggest that this is all deliberate, and anti-Zionists are the poltroons hired to provide intellectual-sounding justification for Arab and Islamic terror against the Jews. If all the upheaval in the Middle East can be blamed on the Jews for daring to have a homeland and defend it, then everyone can convince themselves that Islamic terrorism is just "cause and effect", rather than a uniquely evil phenomenon that threatens civilisation. Therefore, all one has to do is allow the terrorists to murder the Jews, and the problem all goes away.

To their consternation, millions of Jews have the temerity to refuse to be murdered, and, even more audaciously, to exact punishment upon anyone who does murder them. And whenever Jews are being harassed and abused, anti-Zionists are nowhere to be seen-- unless of course you're looking at a pro-Hamas mob celebrating the slaughter of Jews on October 7, 2023.

Remember that a key pillar of anti-Zionism is that the Jews were living comfortably in other countries, and so had no need to resurrect a Jewish state in British Mandate Palestine. In fact, many Jews in the late 19th century were indeed conflicted about the Zionist movement, with some feeling that resettlement would undermine the rights they had recently obtained in European nations; still others had religious conflicts with the largely secular and atheist advocates of Zionism.

But when almost all Jews in Yemen were expelled by the Houthi terrorist group (with one remaining Jew reportedly in prison), not a single anti-Zionist raised the alarm. Not a single anti-Zionist helped any of those Yemenite Jews, whose presence in Yemen is only around 1000 years younger than the Jewish presence in Israel. Where were they all, exactly?

The same for the persecution of Ethiopian Jews; it was Israel, id est Zionist Jews, that did the rescuing. The anti-Zionists-- who love claiming that they represent "real", or as one Substack user told me, "right-thinking" Jews-- did nothing.

The fact that numerous Yemenite Jews fled to Israel utterly destroys anti-Zionism, and is a point that I have yet to hear any anti-Zionist address.

This may because another pillar within the anti-Zionist movement is their hallucinatory belief that Zionism is a "white colonial settler project". The fact that the Mayor of Jerusalem, Youseff al-Khalidi, acknowledged in 1896 (so long before the British Mandate was established) that nobody could contest the rights of the Jews in Palestine because it was 'your country', has to be ignored. The fact that leader of the Arab Revolt Emir Feisal acknowledged the Zionist movement as not only justified, but beneficial to Arab emancipation from colonialism, has to be ignored.

The fact that Jewish attempts to resettle Palestine date back to at least the 16th century also has to be ignored.

The fact that Jews in Europe reserved Hebrew as the language of liturgy, has to be ignored. Many Jews are of European descent, yes. But Hebrew is not a European language. It is a Semitic language, related to Arabic, thus proving that the Jews are Middle Eastern in origin.

Even more devastating to anti-Zionist canards is the fact that for a while, Jews and Syrians spoke the same language, Aramaic. There is a Syrian variety of Aramaic, which, if I am not mistaken, is still spoken today. Meanwhile, Jewish religious texts, including the Hebrew Bible, the Talmud, and the current Jewish prayer book, all contain portions in Aramaic. This similarity could only be possible if the Jewish connection to Israel exceeds around 2000 years.

Between 50-51% of Israelis today are descendants of immigrants and refugees from neighbouring Middle Eastern and North African nations. Israeli Hebrew favours the Sephardic pronunciation used by Jews in Spain, Portugal, and North Africa for centuries. Israel also favours many Yemenite Jewish traditions, as the Yemenite Jewish community has to be one of the oldest outside of the Jewish State.

Meanwhile, the Ashkenazi Jews that anti-Zionists pelt with racial slurs such as 'European coloniser' actually share up to 80% of their DNA with... Arabs. I remember one Ashkenazi Jew from Hungary telling me that when he looked into his family history, he noticed several of his ancestors were quite brown-skinned with thick, dark brown hair. Yet Hungarians are white-skinned. This obviously suggests the migration patterns of Jews from the Middle East and into Europe, where, though marriage and acclimatisation, they gained European ethnicity in addition to being Jewish.

However, you will notice that a large number of Arabs are also white-skinned, especially in Syria, Lebanon, and Iraq. (Also in Saudi Arabia. Islamic texts praise Islam's founder Muhammad for his white skin.) Many Egyptians also have European ancestors. I remember reading an article from an Egyptian who was refuting Netflix's suggestion that Cleopatra might have been black African, in which he noted (with disapproval) that Egyptians often express pride about having French ancestry.

Yet mysteriously, we never hear these Arabs being accused of being "white European colonisers" or conducting "settler colonial projects", despite their collaboration with the British Empire in order to topple the Ottoman Turk Empire. Anyone who bothers to read real history will find that the Arabs were actually keen on collaborating with colonial powers when it was beneficial; when the German Nazis occupied Iraq, they met with widespread support from the Arab Muslims.

But these facts hardly get a fair mention, if at all. Meanwhile, anti-Zionists love to carp on about the Zionist collaboration with the British Empire. Curiously, they also love pointing out and condemning terrorist attacks committed by Zionists.

Well, I think it's important for Zionists not to be afraid of acknowledging the negative aspects of the movement during the violent 1940s. The case for Israel stands firm; it is based on inalienable rights of national self-determination for the Jewish people, backed with piles of unchallengeable, and often unacknowledged, historical evidence. It is that the same rights be accorded to the Jewish people as are accorded to other nations. If we are now going by the standard that the wrongdoing of Zionists would render that right invalid, then it should be applied to any other national movement, including the 1917 Arab movement for a nation in Syria.

Since the anti-Zionists won't apply those same standards to the Arab movement for national independence (or any other national independence movement), then I don't take any of their ostensible moral outrage over Zionist wrongdoing seriously. Nor do I have any respect for their false conclusion that Israel's foundation is therefore immoral.

But notice that many of those terror attacks were committed against the British, which would mean they were "anti-colonial" in nature. In fact, the violence was undoubtedly triggered by the British White Paper of 1937, which arbitrarily banned Jewish home ownership beyond designated lines. This despite the provision of a Jewish Palestine in 1922, and the formal British approval of a Jewish homeland in 1917.

Be that as it may, I am not an anti-Zionist or pro-Palestinian, which is why I do not excuse terrorist attacks. (Anti-Zionists conveniently fail to point out that the Haganah condemned the terror tactics used by the Irgun and Lehi. David Ben-Gurion acknowledged that it was both necessary to support the British during World War Two, while also opposing the British because of the White Paper.)

I just find it curious how the anti-Zionist loves to pick and choose a position without even bothering to check its consistency.

I also find it even more curious-- nay, morally repugnant-- how the supposed anti-Zionist condemnation of terrorism vanishes whenever confronted with the far more egregious and despicable terrorist attacks committed by the Arabs since before the reconstitution of Israel in 1948. As far as October 7, 2023 is concerned, the anti-Zionists have proved themselves to be morally bankrupt cowards and enablers of evil.

It's one standard for the Arabs, another for the Jews.

According to the anti-Zionist universe, the Arabs are brown-skinned, which automatically has to mean that they are downtrodden and axiomatically correct; the Jews are white-skinned, which automatically has to mean they are the oppressors and axiomatically wrong. This profound display of myopia is the shaky foundation upon which anti-Zionism builds its creed, including its pick-and-choose mentality about terrorism.

It is high time that more Zionists stood up to the campaign of distortion, falsification, and useful idiocy of the anti-Zionist movement. This is especially necessary when the anti-Zionists love trotting out Jewish friends and supporters, as if this proved that anti-Zionism were true. That people find this convincing only shows the ruinous effect of identity politics on people's reasoning skills.

There are Jews who say wrong things. There are Jews who have repugnant beliefs. Identity is not proof that one is correct. I laugh at the puerile cliché of "As a Jew..." that is always trotted out whenever it comes to defending the Palestinian "cause". As far as I am concerned, hiding behind one's identity to back an opinion only suggests the weakness of that opinion by itself. I would feel ridiculous if I always prefaced my support of Zionism by saying, "As a British Zionist..."

Defy the intimidation, mental gymnastics, mob mentality, verbal abuse, physical abuse, and speak up. Don't allow lies and fraud to go unchallenged. Anti-Zionism is just another department at the Faculty of Antisemitism. Don't be fooled by the pseudo-intellectual language.

antizionist jews stop making every jewish holy day about palestine and how evil you think other jews are for NOT making it about palestine when it has literally nothing to do with the holy day challenge

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adifferenttime · 4 years ago

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Andrew Ryan vs. Robert House

On almost every House post I make, someone in the notes will reliably reference Andrew Ryan. I totally get it - they look similar, they're based on the same guy, the parallels are so clear that the NV dev team added an achievement for killing House with a golf club - but I think these commonalities tend to engulf both characters, blotting out some of their more interesting ideological/personal differences. It's useful to examine them in relation to one another, but part of that is figuring out what distinguishes them, which is just what I’ve attempted to do.

It's difficult for me to talk about Randian objectivism because I don't think it's sound enough to address on its own terms, but considering this is the philosophy Andrew Ryan has adopted, I kind of have to. What I’d identify as the core premise of Randian ethics is this: altruism is a moral wrong. Some Randians have argued that isn't really what they believe - that the real point is anything resembling altruism is self-interest in disguise - but they're departing from the beliefs of their icon when they make those claims. Per Rand:

The irreducible primary of altruism, the basic absolute is self-sacrifice – which means self-immolation, self-abnegation, self-denial, self-destruction – which means the self as a standard of evil, the selfless as a standard of the good.

The way Rand defines altruism is by linking it to self-sacrifice, which she uses to differentiate it from kindness or benevolence. Aiding others at no cost to yourself is benevolent, but not altruistic, and therefore not evil. Sacrificing your happiness to help another human being is, from Rand's perspective, evil, as is any philosophy that prioritizes the other at the cost of the self. This whole idea has been broadly rejected by most scholars on account of it being really fucking stupid. What justifies the leap from "man is naturally selfish" to "selfishness is good"? If selfishness is moral, wouldn't the most moral behavior be to exploit others through whatever means necessary, favoring force over the market? Rand defines happiness as "using your mind’s fullest power," achievable only when you "do not consider the pleasure of others as the goal," but why is this the only definition? What if your only options are self-sacrificial in nature? How do you weigh them if neither sacrifice is linked to values, individual achievement, or "your mind's fullest power" at all? Rand didn't care because she was too busy trying to ethically justify cheating on her man with her best friend's husband, but nonetheless, this is the philosophy Andrew Ryan’s adopted. He claims that "Altruism is the root of all Wickedness," in what's almost a direct quote from Rand herself.

To that end, Ryan builds a system that doesn’t just accept selfishness but actively incentivizes it. Every other principle he expresses is subservient to the ideas that selfishness rules man, and that for Ryan to act on his own selfish impulses is the highest good in the world. His lesser political principles (individual liberties, negative rights, the creation of a stateless society) don’t matter to him as much as the central precept from which they stem: that selfishness is his moral imperative.

What is the greatest lie every created? What is the most vicious obscenity ever perpetrated on mankind? Slavery? The Holocaust? Dictatorship? No. It's the tool with which all that wickedness is built: altruism.

It doesn't come as a particular surprise to me when he starts imprisoning dissidents or executing rivals or banning theft (standard practice in most societies, but not what an egoist would pursue; if you can get away with taking it, you deserve to have it, or so the thinking goes). I’ve seen him described as a hypocrite, but I don’t think that’s necessarily true considering everything he does is in line with his opposition to altruism. He'll adhere to his other principles only if they don’t sabotage his pursuit of personal power. This is evident in the fact that he only adopts a negative perception of Fontaine when his own interests are threatened, but doesn’t give two shits what Fontaine might be doing to sow conflict and harm people before that point. A guy named Gregory asks Ryan to step in against Fontaine early on before Fontaine's fully established himself as a threat to Ryan's power, and Ryan's extremely blase about it.

Don't expect me to punish citizens for showing a little initiative. If you don't like what Fontaine is doing, well, I suggest you find a way to offer a better product.

Contrast this with how he reacts when Fontaine has risen as a genuine business rival. This is from the log titled "Fontaine Must Go."

Something must be done about Fontaine. While I was buying buildings and fish futures, he was cornering the market on genotypes and nucleotide sequences. Rapture is transforming before my eyes. The Great Chain is pulling away from me.

This double standard is the natural outgrowth of his prioritization of self-interest. If your most deeply-held belief is that you should never give up your interests for others, ancillary rules become flexible in times of personal crisis, and Bioshock makes the case that putting someone like that in charge of a city will leave you with a crumbling, monstrous ruin.

Superficially, House has some similarities. Ryan executes political rivals; House has you blow up a bunker of his ideological opponents. Ryan is the highest authority in Rapture; House is the absolute monarch of Vegas. Their goals and moral codes, though, are almost diametrically opposed. When you ask House why you’re expected to trust him when he’s openly admitting to installing himself as the despot of the New Vegas Strip, he says this:

I have no interest in abusing others... Nor have I any interest in being worshipped as some kind of machine-god messiah. I am impervious to such corrupting ambitions.

Most of his resources are devoted to large-scale, impersonal projects, aimed either at building the power of Vegas or securing his long term goal of “progress” as he sees it. He’s rejected selfishness as a moral good because House is very far from Randian objectivism. He's a Hobbesian monarch.

In that respect, he shares an outlook on human nature with Ryan that I deeply disagree with (that human beings are essentially selfish), but in terms of what that means for the structure of a utopian society, House takes a very different position. From his perspective, human nature breeds suffering, not industriousness, and the only way to stamp out conflict - and, in a post-nuclear age, ensure the continued survival of the human race - is through a strong sovereign. The purpose of a state as laid out in Leviathan aligns very, very closely with the one House expresses.

...the foresight of their own preservation, and of a more contented life thereby; that is to say, of getting themselves out from that miserable condition of war which is necessarily consequent, as hath been shown, to the natural passions of men...

The monarch's successes are reflected in his society and the well-being of humanity as a whole. To subvert his goals is to subvert society's goals, and to doom humanity to the war, death, and suffering that exist in a state of nature. When you destroy his Securitrons/kill him, he doesn't plead for himself or get offended on his own behalf. He accuses you of betraying not him, but mankind.

Single-handedly, you've brought mankind's best hopes of forward progress crashing down. No punishment would be too severe. Fool... to let... personalities... derail future... of mankind? ...Stupid! Slavery... the future of... mankind? What... have you... done?

An important corollary of this idea which again distinguishes House from Ryan appears in Leviathan’s description of the political/moral responsibility of a monarch to his subjects:

...that great Leviathan, or rather, to speak more reverently, of that mortal god to which we owe, under the immortal God, our peace and defence. For by this authority... he hath the use of so much power that, by terror thereof, he is enabled to form the wills of them all, to peace at home, and mutual aid against their enemies abroad.

Hobbes and House give the monarch virtually unlimited power but match it to the monarch's duty, which he lives to fulfill. His obligation is to speak for the people, act for them, and protect them from all threats, internal and external. House generally abides by this, orienting his decisions around his goals for society irrespective of the personal cost (the negative consequences of his actions are a product of his fucked evaluations of what’s best for society, not personal greed). It’s not just a departure from Ryan’s philosophy but a complete refutation of it. He's almost died for what he's misidentified as the greatest good.

Given that I had to make do with buggy software, the outcome could have been worse. I nearly died as it was…. I spent the next few decades in a veritable coma.

This is not the behavior of an egoist. This is the behavior of an extremely arrogant but marginally altruistic (from a Randian perspective lmao) guy. This is some distorted “from each according to his ability” shit if you’ve managed to convince yourself your abilities exceed those of everyone else who has ever lived and that you can get the Mandate of Heaven by being really good at statistics.

The reason these guys develop such similar structures and hierarchies despite the ideological gulfs between them is because both of them are elitists who’ve experienced a massive failure of self-consciousness. They’re unable to conceive of other people as being fundamentally like them. Ryan separates people into the clearly-delineated classes of “producer” and “parasite,” ignoring the fact that everything he’s ever “produced” was reliant on a huge, coordinated effort between workers, architects, accountants, middlemen, and others, all of whom, in conjunction, contributed more to the realization of his dreams that he ever could have alone. Rather than realizing his own position is more parasitic and reliant on other people’s labor than that of anyone else in Rapture, he adheres to his doctrine of selfishness even when it’s not reflective of reality and is ruining the the lives of an entire city of people. He deludes himself into believing he’s a superman among ants instead of one flawed man who is reliant on the goodwill of others to help him survive, as are we all.

House, too, thinks he’s exceptional. Unlike Ryan, he acknowledges the necessity of the worker to a functioning society, but while he’ll accept his reliance on that labor, he doesn’t trust the laborer enough to share political power. House knows he’s invested in humanity’s survival and the creation of a better world, but he refuses to consider that he might not be alone in this goal. He chalks up the existence of the Legion to fanaticism/the ambitions of a sultanistic dictator and attributes everything the NCR has done to greed, without it ever occurring to him that the massive harm these nations have done was partially motivated by the same goals he’s devoted himself to - and that the atrocities he’s committed since his rise to power are, in some respects, very similar. House knows himself to be invested in the well-being of humanity, but he’s too arrogant to ask himself if his methods are wrong or trust other people to build a new path, one that doesn’t necessitate his complete control over the land and people of the Mojave. Ryan and House’s worldviews are distinct, and their flaws, as highlighted by their respective narratives, say some interesting things about how each set of devs view power and the pitfalls of elitism.

Anyway. If you put these two men in a room, they would probably try to murder each other, and I think that’s great.

#Robert House #Andrew Ryan #fallout meta #bioshock meta #fnv #bioshock #fallout new vegas

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azazelsconfessional · 3 years ago

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((Azazel's abilities(and some combat abilities for the other Missionaries as they continue to be side characters when this event ends)

Azazel is ridiculously powerful. He's easily the most powerful member of the Missionaries, after Nyarlathotep.

Shame about the chains that keep his power and true form locked away.

Rule of Revelation (Sacred Artifact: Bible "Eyes of the Fallen")

Azazel's Bible is always on his person. He does NOT put it down and does not give it to people except those he trusts. He's willing at times to show its contents to people but he won't let most anyone hold it.

If you do get a hold of it it will stop working/won't show you anything. It will just become a book with glowing symbols on/in it or a regular Bible with an eye on the front.

Eyes of the Fallen allows Azazel to view and proccess anything the pages see, including outside of Missionaries territory.

In order to use Eyes of the Fallen, Azazel needs to expose his chains, causing him to remove his cassock.

Azazel can move the pages wherever he pleases. They're magical so there's some resistance in them, however they are paper and thus easily destroyed or removed or displaced.

Large eyes made of light will appear in the sky over large areas he's searching.

Within Missionaries Territory Azazel can see anything without the aid of his Artifact.

Azazel can see anything there is to be seen and a bit more. Though he can't see "how" someone came to be who/what they are, he can see their current form and see them for what they really are(MC has 24+ souls and he can see and identify them all; Nomad is a human modified into a tiger and he can see his human soul; Shino is a Shadow/ghost/etc and he can see that he's no longer really alive/his original form; when Raphael made them all see zombies and the Fisher King he was able to confirm they weren't real zombies but the memories of a past occurrence; etc)

He can both see and hear things, however the other senses don't work.

There are little to no combat capabilities to Eyes of the Fallen.

Healing capabilities slightly described below.

Magic & Game Unit Skills

Azazel is insanely powerful to the point that his Summopedia page described him as being the most powerful of the Missionaries. However his chains prevent him from accessing his true form or power.

Azazel is able to use bursts of Aether(equivalent Light, Holy, etc) magic despite being a Fallen Angel.

They're not super strong, but they do have a decent range. He can use them more or less infinitely due to his huge power reserve that's otherwise restricted to him.

He's able to heal himself and others. In-game limits this to using Eyes of The Fallen/his Charge Skill and only to allies in his immediate vicinity, so I'll consider this healing happening through use of the pages of his Artifact over wounds.

Applies the effect 'Blessing' to his allies around himself(heals over time temporarily.)

Can remove a debuff of people he hits; weaken(defense) of people he hits; temporarily prevent use of skills of those he hits; heal allies after damaging opponents

Taking damage can strengthen allies(increase their charge points, which isn't really a concern in terms of writing since they can use their powers more or less instantly)

Misc

Azazel has wings he can magically produce/retract. He can use them to fly.

Azazel's pain tolerance is obscenely high. He responds to pain as though it's pleasure.

Azazel cannot be killed. Killing him will change him into his true form.

Breaking his chains(accessible only to beings with powers on level with a Supreme God/King of Gods; Archangel Raphael; and entities with Rules that can cut through/break/open things absolutely(MC's Rule of Rending, primarily) and a few others) will also change him into his true form and return to him his powers.

Eyes of the Fallen and some other things can make his tail turn from a goat tail into a snake tail. His scales are slightly keeled and more keeled when agitated/fighting, making them spiky like a spiny bush viper

Exists but is inaccessible--a spear with the Rule of Corruption inherit in his true body. Cannot access it unless chains are 'loosened' by an Archangel or are cut enough maybe????? I haven't decided how this headcanon works since he can't use it anyway

Under the cut a small rundown on side characters' powers

Arsalan:

Artifact is a shamshir that can spray an infinite amount of sacred oil

Oil is fired at a speed that can knock one off their feet or knock weapons out of one's hand

Oil is obviously slippery and heavy enough to prevent use of wings as well; holding things and maintaining footing is very difficult

Allies are adept at fighting through/with his oil and thus are uninhibited except if their wings get too oily

Always covered in oil himself, hard to hold on to

Oil has healing properties(Unction), hurts enemies after they've been hit by Arsalan(Unction Weakness)

Oil is flammable, Zabaniyya controls his flames and uses the oil to spread Hellfire if need be(see: Zabaniyya)

Sword is strong against demons in particular; sacred oil is all over his body and makes him strong against/resistant to demons as well

Rarely uses sword as weapon, sticks to oil and physical combat unless given permission by Jacob or in a desperate situation that requires it

Physically and mentally extremely strong and resilient, uninhibited by his own oils even when manhandling enemies via wrestling

Sword allows him to resist oil and temptation as well

Teeth and claws are very sharp

Incredible leader, almost all of Aoyama Guild will obey him without question

Maria

Artifact is thorns that can move pain to and from others and herself(including painful memories)

Thorns are able to grow just about anywhere, including inside, and cover spaces

Applies Stigma to herself and those she hits or is hit by(applies damage over time and reduces defense)

Heals self and allies, especially by transferring damage from them to enemies through thorns

Temporarily disable skills

Leader of the Aoyama Guild, obeyed by most of the current members

Gabriel

Rule/Sacred Artifact(undisclosed? May be a microphone?/magical girl wand?) allows her to drive others to madness through the power of moonlight. Dubiously part of her Rule is her ability to make others fall for/obey her simply by commanding them

Likely also has a sword Artifact, rarely uses it, similar circumstances as Arsalan

The latter usually is used to make people stop attacking(Charm)

Very support-based, strengthening, healing, and motivating self and allies through song and magic

Has wings, can fly quickly

Maddened people are probably controllable by her, or at least they adore her and will probably listen and attack allies that threaten her?

Zabaniyya

Role of the Torturer; Rule of Hellfire; Sacred Artifact is a fiery spear, however he doesn't use it, similar circumstances to Arsalan

Fights using martial arts, mastering the 'Fiery Spear Hand' in which he channels his weapon through his hands

Can also fight from a distance using fire, but rarely does

Inflicts internal and external burns through his Artifact. Rule of Hellfire under the Role of the Torturer causes eternal pain.

Internally burning all the time, high pain tolerance, considers pain a penance and doesn't shy away from it very much; probably essentially immune to fire? Basically a firey tank. V high defense.

Applies Stigma and deals additional damage to those afflicted with Stigma and Burn; also applies Stigma to those who hit him

Can harm others from a distance using a chain of cross-shaped flames if they're afflicted with Stigma; chains are probably homing?

Heals allies apparently???

Rule of Hellfire purges people of sin and evil through flames, thus likely more effective against demons

Can ignite flames of passion/love, although he refuses to do this

Has wings, can fly, rarely uses them

Will not fight unless ordered by appropriate parties or the enemy has broken divine law

Kimun/Wen Kamui

Rule allows him to strip others (of their growth). Artifact is the 'Mankiller Sword' which he uses on himself as Kimun and others as Wen.

Mankiller Sword, if it's able to strip someone of their clothing, fur, hair, or flesh, is able to spawn a copy of the person's past self for them to fight--losing the fight against themself will cause them to lose their growth. If they win, the copy disappears.

Can spawn multiple copies if he cuts them multiple times

Can duplicate himself this way as well

Copies(of himself or enemies) might not cooperate with him although they mostly obey, depends on the person and their traumas/what they're struggling to grow or move on from/etc

Temporarily can't attack after doing this????/after using his Charge Skill

Can copy enemy buffs

Able to heal self and allies

Very high defense and pain tolerance due to his role/rule causing him to strip himself of his own skin/pelt/fur to give it to others

Hurts you even if he misses.

Unable to be frozen

Can apply freeze(lowers defense, damage over time) if he misses

Jacob

Sacred Artifact is a Pillar allowing him to remember all previous loops; connected to the Tree of Life in Eden; cannot be killed

Sacred Artifact is the Archangel Uriel's whirling sword of flame. Doesn't use it in flame form most of the time, only uses it to enhance his punches and kicks and movements; it also guides him around due to his blindness; also able to restore people's memories from previous loops(including people he doesn't know and he "can reach even those who have never appeared in this Tokyo with his Rule") and makes a pillar of holy light that leads to the Tree of Life in Eden, making him more effective against either angels or the undead(hard to tell because it was used against undead angels, possibly both)

Blind, thus unaffected by anything that requires sight

Leader of the Aoyama Guild, although a lot of people aren't aware of it due to his absence, thus obeyed by most of its members(if not all of them because the Admins obey him)

Can multihit/punch very fast. He's no Captain Falcon but his fists are Dangerous.

Relies mostly on sound for navigation but can also be guided by his Artifact. Can probably blind others with the massive pillar of light from it.

Cannot be forced to move backwards. Can pull people in a certain range towards him/get in people's personal space easily to fight since he fights with his fists

Weakens enemies, applies Blessing(healing over time) to himself

Artifact heals him, removes ALL debuffs, and makes him highly resistent to damage temporarily

Artifact also provides him a shield that keeps him from being exposed to life-threatening conditions(Korpokkur's blizzard is how we learned about this--also keeps him warm and guides him to people and things he should meet)

Takes less damage from other close range fighters using their bare hands/fists(and any enhancements like knuckles, claws, etc--basically if you're a Blow unit/hit in a singular space in front of you he takes less damage from you)

Can use his Artifact as a sword but generally refuses to. It's a big, spinning sword of flame and would apply burn but he avoids using it because he hates weapons

NPC Angels

Primarily attack in a group. Always guarding the Church and its activities and almost always accompany its admins. The church is rarely unattended.

Fight with spears which can be thrown. Some level of magic?

Apply stigma to hit enemies. Deal more damage to Stigmafied enemies.

Can heal surrounding allies.

Nyarlathotep

You just die. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#ooc #character info #side character info #long post #((this is a sloppy mess but here have a bit of a rundown of both game mechanic and story mechanic powers))

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jalebi-weds-bluetooth · 3 years ago

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Hi JWB, analysis anon here. OMG, every time ai visit your blog, I have so much to savour and enjoy! Really in awe and wonder of the quality of your work and creativity! Well, I was pondering over the role of religion in the IPK universe—- while they did show divine miracles in Khushi’s case, Anjali being the most overtly religious one is shown to be the worst sufferer! Quite an exception in the ITV world, don’t you think?

Hello Dearest Analysis Anon!

Aaaaahhhh what's with all the love today? I'll melt into a puddle!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you - bohot bohot - for all the love.

The role of religion in the IPK universe

I think IPK was very pragmatic and honest in its way of dealing with religion - which is fantastic and very progressive. I've rarely seen shows post IPKKND have such a healthy relationship with religion tbh. Through subtle, smart ways the show showed some very important themes:

- People can chose to be an atheist or a devotee, what matters is each respects the other's choice. Arnav, although initially judged by Khushi for not believing in God, is never shown to 'transform' and believe in God. Rather Arnav learns to be kinder to those who do believe in God and Khushi realizes that religion alone is no measure of one's character and morality considering Shyam and Dadi are fairly religious.

- God helps those who help themselves. While the show beautifully left Arnav alone with his atheism, it is interesting to see how the characters who believed were treated. Buaji, Khushi and Payal keep getting assistance/good luck not just because they pray regularly, but for working their butts off to get things done. Khushi is constantly working hard to keep things afloat. Payal does everything to support her sister and keep the harmonious balance in the family.

- No devotion can help if one is blind. Anjali's blind faith is a warning on what can happen if we choose to not see things. Yes she's devoted and religion plays a massive role in her life but no God can help you if you choose to not see things for what they are.

- No one is punished for being an atheist. A lot of shows tend to show that if a person did not believe in God, then by events and pain the person will be forced to accept God exists - something that Khushi challenged Arnav with. What's beautiful about this is that IPK, in a way, gets religion right. God, irrespective of religion, does not have ego. This is a very human trait to force people to bow to our beliefs. So in a way I'm glad that Arnav never had a reflection of 'oh God does exist'. His pain and suffering (later in life) is due to external factors and his own deeds - not because of 'God is teaching him a lesson'. No 'God' does that, humans do though. Also Arnav is not ‘punished’ for trying to be ‘God’, he gets all the yelling for breaking another person’s privacy and trying to control another person’s life because that person rattled his ego.

- Religious or not, you have to face the consequences of your actions. God does not 'fix' everything. Khushi suffers for keeping Shyam's truth away from Anjali - a truth that could've saved Anjali a lot of pain. And look at karma, Khushi's misplaced actions endanger Anjali's life so it leads to Payal's marriage being threatened. Anjali suffers for believing in Shyam despite her own flesh and blood telling her the truth of his evil ways. She goes against her good judgement to include Shyam in her life and that costed her her child. Arnav continuously suffered multiple heartbreaks and his own relationship was always at the brink of breaking given how he often disrespected and hurt Khushi and their relationship.

- If you believe in God, you'll find a way through your faith. If you're an atheist, you'll find a way through logic. Most importantly, you'll find a way if you're smart *lol* this is especially evident during the kidnapping track. Both Arnav & Khushi finds means to get through the trouble with the help of things they believe in. Khushi's faith in Devi Maiyya leads to the chunri falling on Shyam's shoes which she follows through her instinct and intelligence. Arnav's presence of mind and quick thinking helps him give a vital clue to Khushi - which was the restaurant with Laad Governor written on it.

- And true, Anjali suffered the most despite being the most religious - but she also had miraculous saves from accidents that would've literally killed anyone else. She keeps on cheating death - electric shock, scorpion, doused in ether, car accident and a dangerous miscarriage.

So yes, I love the way IPK dealt with religion (largely) because I see religion in the same way as well. I love my faith but I don't see the logic of doing something stupid and thinking 'God will fix everything'.

Well this did become very lengthy - thanks for the interesting ask!

Much love,

- JWB

#ask #analysis anon #ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #religion #analysis #ipkknd analysis #queue farak padta hai

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limelocked · 4 years ago

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some backstory: basically look at this post then work on the assumption that phil is like Ancient/ages slower than humans/players

phil meets babyblade for the first time (brought to you largely unedited from discord messages)

---

thinking about phil being a traveller, walking or flying from town to town trying to find the new place to stay for like 100 years as a cryptid, passing thought a town, well developed with electrical streetlights not yet too common for testificates or players. The day pass slowly into night and with an unwillingness to take into an inn he settles to finding a cave or tree to camp in.

Techno is at that point perhaps half Phils height but still built shockingly strong for a child and he knows well not to disturb armed people sleeping in the woods. The dew clings to his hooves and fur as he inspects the man sleeping among the leaves and his wings. Phil is already awake, watching back from under the shade of his hat, seeing this upright, scar covered, piglet inspect him. Phil slowly moves as if he's just woken up and techno scampers away

phil knows about pigmen, hes never seen one of course but he's heard plenty about them. Theres villager texts with myths about them and its generally accepted that they're the cause of ruined structures though different cultures seem to disagree on if they caused the ruin or caused the building now in disrepair. He asks in town about pigmen but they only talk about what a pest the zombie pigmen and piglins that come through the resident portal are, the undertone of hate matching that of those that theorize towards the more... evil side of the pigmen.

They have heard nothing about any pigmen in the area, for all the town knows, and for all that most people know. They dont exist and they might never have

So he goes back to the forest and "accidentally" leaves some food and trinkets at the food of the tree, barely getting any sleep as he waits for the little creature to arrive. And he does. And with caution the piglet studies the food and items for a while, freezing with every movment of the wind through phils great folded wings. Techno takes some of the food, not all of it, and none of the items even though a cheap dagger seemed to make him hesitate on that choice

It goes on for a few nights, phil sleeping through most of them but knowing who it was that took the gifts and left the little napkin neatly still covering what he didnt take and who he found one morning returning with a handful of berries as a return gift. Phils back fucking hurt sleeping in the tree but he'd gotten invested now so what're you gonna do yknow?

Its noon after a week and a day and phil is half nocturnal because of this little thing coming to take and give like trade under his tree. He's almost falling asleep when bushes move and he's back on (exhausted) high alert. He doesnt move. Under him theres no napkin or items or food this time, he just needed a nap, but that doesnt bother the pink spot down on the ground from moving closer and inspecting the spot. He's disappointed but returns shortly after with more berries and a messy leg of lamb. He thinks, as phil will never find out, that he's stolen everything this stranger has in terms of food so he has to give back some that he's gotten himself right? its only polite?

"did you get the lamb by yourself?" to say that techno jumped out of his skin would be an underestimation.

He didnt freeze but instead, just as cautiously as he seemed to do everything, hunched down into a fighters stance knowing well that the man with wings above him could easily catch him "dont worry mate" phils tone became softer, testing the bounderies of this child "-im not going to hurt you if that's what youre worried about"

he didnt change positions other than to look up slowly to.... g- glare? was this little pig kid GLARING at him?! what was that gonna do?? who would be intimidated by this adorable little fuck?!?! Phil would admit it every time anything even remotely related came up later that he laughed, i mean who wouldnt? hed liken it to a puppy glaring you down and how could that be taken seriously its just cute if anything

techno, covered in scars of battles both with people and with nature, looked at this winged man in almost disbelief. phil, the nicknamed angel of death who seemingly could never die himself, was almost falling off the branch he'd been using as a bed for a week clutching his stomach as he laughed.

"what?!" the impatient, small, voice piped up after a few seconds "whats so funny!?" the seriousness both stopped phil in his tracks and Didnt Help At All. the tone was serious and.. desperate. it caught him off guard and finally his balance fails and he falls, unfurling his wings to catch himself and kicking up leaves and dust from the ground before his adorable little thief

"you're a piglet, you couldnt beat me up so stop looking like it" this was the closest the two had ever been, still a few meters apart but it was apparent that techno had only just realized just how Tall phil was compared to him, and how imposing his wings were when stretched to their full width

"heehh i could totally kill you" fake it til you make it, a strategy that had won him many battles before and it had only failed him.... a few times.... "oh could you?" while techno sounded cocky and serious phil was playful and in the ears of this kid, taunting "mm.. ya" but phil didnt fail to notice how easily a child had threatened murder

A month can go quick and a conversation can go slow. A festival had been set up in the time that it took the two to finish their talk under the tree, or so techno would have you believe. There had been three weeks of food being left by both parties and playful banter countered by genuine threats becoming less so by the meeting. Phil had gifted techno, who'd in exchange given his name, the dagger he'd looked at that first night. The exchange was there sure but phil had also had to joke about techno not being able to kill him with bare hoof hand things, he'd need, yknow, a weapon

They sat then, that meeting in the woods a month after their first encounter, sharing food in relative silence. "-and you dont have any parents im guessing or else you'd not be hanging out with this stranger" phil said absentmindedly, a retort to his own lack of family

"fuck off"

stunned. he looked at techno shocked not only at the swear but at the nerve he'd apparently struck, "sorry mate- didnt mean.." he trailed off, studying the pigs reaction but there was none, he'd just kept eating... he watched for a moment more before debating taking another bite of his own food but, no, no he could be stupid "that means you can travel more though right?" a recovery, but only a stepping stone

"mm, guess so yeah" bait effective

"have you been to to the north much?" "... nah.. mostly around here and west" there was a long pause before the eventual "i think" that phil had come to expect at this point, though this time it wasnt accompanied by an equally unsure "im pretty sure"

"well im leaving town, could come with me?"

#technoblade #philza #sbi #sleepy boys #this wont show up in the tags because of the link im guessing #mcyt

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zoomsbatty · 4 years ago

Text

(Repost because I had to delete my old account)

Adventures Of The Terrible Bird

Marco had overworked himself again. Hunched over his desk as he completed another stack of paperwork, and maps that needed to be done. Yet, no matter how many hours he poured in it always seemed to just increase in size. Witchcraft, he swore.

At the late hours of the night he finally decides to turn it in. Sluggishly making his way down the quiet halls, and stretching his poor sore muscles. Stiff limbs popping loudly as the noise bounced across the wooden walls. He needed a chiropractor, but that would have to wait until morning. He fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, but it wasn't Marco who had woken up.

It was the phoenix.

The moment the sunlight shone through the small window the phoenix had awoken. Moving his small head from where it was sitting snugly inside his wing, and gracefully stretching his long neck. With a ruffle of his blue feathers he had realized something incredibly wrong. He was in a place he did not like. The phoenix was angry, and he was going to make it everyone’s problem.

“YOI!” With a screech, and a flap of his wings he had declared war! He burst from his spot on the bed, and flew right to where the light was coming from. The sun was there, so that must mean it was a way outside. Yes! He will get to sun, and find his captors. Evil humans will pay! Except, that didn't happen. As he just flew face first into the window at full speed. He stopped, and hopped back to his feet like a blue feathery tornado.

What was that? He craned his long neck to the one that hurt him. Staring at the strange, invisible, barrier that had dared to stop his escape. One peck spooking the bird as he screamed, and flapped his feathers in anger. It was magic! He sent a hiss its way.

“What in the world? Marco, what are you doing in here?” His neck straightened up when he heard the voice. A human! Or in other terms, the phoenix’s next victim. The door slowly opened, and the poor soul then peaked in. Confused eyes scanning the room for any sign of the first commander. Instead, they sadly were met with a face full of blue feathers.

“YOI! YOI!” He cried in victory as he knocked puny human down. He stood on their (not actually) dead body as he flapped his wings as a show of dominance! No one can stop the phoenix! He was unstoppable! With his new found freedom he made a run for it. Talons hitting wood as he ran across the halls at top speed. Top speed being however fast a waddling goose could go at a given time. He was free, and now he may smite all the fools who had dared try to contain him!

“YYYOOOIII!” The moment he had found himself on deck he yelled. Wings flapping, and talons stomping on the wooden floor as all eyes turned to his form. A few faces growing pale at the sight of the blue monstrosity in their presence.

“Oh god, please no.”

“Not again. Did Marco overwork himself last night?”

“I hope he’s just messing with us here.”

Yes! They were trembling beneath his mighty form! Shake in fear tiny humans! He will show no mercy, and shall get his revenge!

“Ok funky goose get your ass over here.” He squawked in shock when all of the sudden he was lifted from the ground. Long neck swinging back, and forth as he tried to find the source of this preposterous situation. Who dared remove him from his war path!?

“Geez, I told you to get some rest earlier! When will you learn Marco?” Finally the phoenix’s head moved so he could stare his captor eye to eye. There was a man with strange brown hair styled up like a balloon, and the phoenix had the urge to nest within it as he stared. The human sighed, and then shook his head in disappointment. Hey! He should be pleased to be touching him! If anyone was supposed to be disappointed it should be the phoenix! He was just an ugly human after all!

He screamed, and then began to nip at the offending hands. He will murder this human for his treason against the mighty phoenix! Hissing in joy when he saw a little blood come off the terrible human’s finger!

“Geez Marco! Calm down. You're such a little shit when you go full bird.” Once the pain got too bad he released the furious ball of blue feathers. Watching with distaste as he strutted and screamed at all the watching eyes of their brothers. Though the phoenix had no idea these were his brothers at the moment in time.

“Ok, where's the bird time out bag!?” Now the human had made a mistake at this point. He had turned his back to the phoenix! He shall enact his punishment for the human’s mistreatment of him! He slowly inched forward, neck elongated as he prepared himself for his attack. And then, he pounced. Nipping the man right on his butt before running in the opposite direction, and away from the angry yells of the strange balloon man. The man has felt his wrath, and he had no plans in stopping! Chirping happily as a few pirates flinched the moment he ran past them. Yes! He was god!

“You should have seen me Deuce! The way I blasted that guy away!” The phoenix was pulled away by the sound of a new voice. Who was that? Now the phoenix normally could care less, but the moment he saw something shiny he decided it was all his business.

He hissed, and then crouched down so he could expertly make his way to where the man was standing. Orange hat perched on his head that acted like a beacon for the bird. Then, in a blink of an eye he bursted forth. Grabbing a hold of the shiny dagger, and pulling with all his might. This was his dagger! HIS! The human should just give it up right now!

“M-Marco!? What are you doing!? Hey! Let go!” No! Human should let go! Not the phoenix! This was his shiny now! With one last tug he pulled it off the guy’s hip, and ran with his treasure to a special secret spot. Or, better known as, behind a cluster of barrels that the phoenix now claimed as his nest.

“Thatch! What's wrong with him!?” Nothing was wrong with phoenix! Phoenix was king!

“Sometimes when he overworks himself he defaults to the natural bird brain of the phoenix. We don't know how that works, it just happens. He’ll be back to normal tomorrow at least.” Phoenix was normal! How dare this Thatch say otherwise! He sent a hiss in their direction, and glared as they just stared at him with tired eyes. “Well, hopefully he's his normal self tomorrow.”

Everything seemed to have returned to some normalcy. Pirates running about, and the bright blue ball of feathers enjoying his spot away from it all. Beak chewing happily on the little diamonds as he basked in his new treasure. Yes, his shiny. He liked this shiny. Though now he wants more shinies. Enough shinies to populate his nest like a treasure wonderland.

“Yoi!” He peeked his head out. Neck working like a telescope as he tried to spot his next victim. A few seemed to have noticed, and scurried away quickly to avoid the gaze of the terrible bird. Everyone knew to avoid Marco when he was like. All but the bird himself of course.

That's when he saw him, Deuce. The blue haired man leaning against a nearby railing and trying to scribble something within his tiny journal. To the Whitebeards it was a normal sight, but to the phoenix it was an opening.

He flew up to the top of the barrels, and glared down the unsuspecting victim. The blue man had a shiny pen, and he wanted the shiny pen. With the confidence of a king he strutted across the deck. Eyes trained onto the only thing going through his tiny little walnut brain. He stopped, and stared up at the man. Not thinking for a second of what will even happen if he tried to take such a thing.

“Yoi!” Quickly he jumped up, and grabbed the pen in between his beak. Wings flapping, and feathers flying all over the place as he secured his newest treasure. Yes! His shiny! His pen! His his his!

“H-Hey! Give that back!” No! Give to him! He flapped his wings at him in a threatening way, and stomped his feet as a sign for the dumb human to back off! No one touches treasure once the phoenix has it! No siree! He claimed it!

“Give it up. He isn't ever going to let that go now.” With a huff the bird made a run for it. Feet hitting the hard wood like a jackhammer as he made his way to hide the new wonder in his nest. Carefully tucking it next to the dagger with care, and practice. Cozy pen! Good pen! He liked this pen! He scratched the floor happily, and marked his territory so no other bird will dare to land in his vicinity.

Now he just needed some nesting material.

He left his cave. Neck swinging from side to side as he searched for precious soft materials to build upon. Only the best! Though he did not see any soft things. No fuzzies? He wanted fuzzies for nest! With an annoyed chortle he began to move deeper across the deck. Eyes on the lookout for the perfect piece, and wanting more than anything to build the best nest he possibly could. Bird was king! And king needed the best!

While he was walking he had found himself within the dining hall. Its wooden walls, and floors giving it a monochromatic look that the bird did not care about whatsoever. Instead, he zoned completely on a nice sound that was wafting through the room. Singing? Not bird singing. Bird singing was better! Phoenix sang much better than human!

He waddled to where the noise was, and peeked through a pair of double doors to see the weird hair human dancing about the kitchen. Singing a sea shanty, and preparing something on the stove that the phoenix couldn't discern. He didn't care what it was to exact, but it did smell nice. Yet, that isn't what had caught his attention the most.

Eggs! There were eggs within the big box! Large, and white like ones the phoenix can eat and lay on. He wanted to lay on those eggs! His eggs! He wanted eggs! With a happy screech he ran to the box. Wings flapping as his eyes scanned each uniform little orb in wonder. He liked these eggs. Very good eggs!

“Yoi yoi!” With lightning fast reflexes he grabbed an egg, and swallowed it whole. Very good egg! He shall grab more!

“H-Hey! You put those down!” Thatch had finally noticed his little escapade, spoon in his hand waving about as he tried to force the annoying bird away from the merchandise. The phoenix just growled at him. Holding several eggs within his beak, and cheeks as he did so. How dare he! His eggs! “Drop them!” The man had lunged for him, but the bird easily dodged. Feathers now all over the kitchen floor, and tables. Marking so the world could see he was there.

He bolted right away. Like a roadrunner getting away from a predator he was fast, and gone in a blink of an eye. Pride filled the bird as he escaped with his eggs without even a scratch on him. Yes! His eggs! With a happy chirp he gently dropped them next to his other treasures. The nest was starting to look good! Yes, good nest! Perfect for king!

“Well! You're having a good time my son.” A shadow then swallowed the entire deck whole. Blocking the sun, and any source of light that the bird could make out. His feathers ruffling, and standing on their ends as instincts ran wild. Darkness meant storm, and storm was bad. Instead he found his feet dangling beneath him, and hands on his body. Out of everything he could have done he decided he was going to scream.

“Yoooiii! YOI!” he kicked, and used his beak to nip at the offending hands that had trapped him. No one traps the phoenix! That is punishable by death! The bird only got angrier as the one imprisoning him refused to release his form. Only for him to stop in his tracks as a booming laughter shook him to his feathers.

“I’m glad you still have your spirit Marco! That's my boy!” When the phoenix finally craned his long neck to see who could create such a noise he was in absolutely shock. That was a big human! Large crescent mustache, and giant face seemed like a predator to him. One big finger then reached down to pet the bird, causing a happy little chirp to reverberate in his throat. He liked this human! Good human! Big human can protect him! Very good servant!

“Yoi!” He flapped his wings until he was finally placed down. Puffing out his chest, and glaring up at the large man that held his hostage. He can be good slave to the phoenix, but that did not mean he could touch him! No touching!

“Alright alright. How about you go back to your nest.” The large finger patted him on the head again, and the bird just sent a nip his way in annoyance. No touching! Bad human! “I’m sorry, you never let your old man pet you though. Here, a little gift for my boy.” Something glittered in the corner of his eye, and when the boy turned he screamed in joy. Yes! A shiny! Golden treasure!

“Yoi!” He grabbed the glittering ring with his beak, and waddled off to where his nest was starting to form. He had decided now he liked this human, but he will probably forget such a thing in a few minutes anyway.

“Pops! Stop spoiling him! Now he’ll think it's ok to steal from us!” Bird ignored insignificant humans. Those humans were just slaves to the phoenix! Bird was better than them!

“Now, making him happy doesn't hurt anyone.” He hurt all, and bird enjoyed it! All bow to him! A loud snore then snapped him away from his nest, and forced his neck to stare at a nearby body that had parked itself near his area. Bad human! He marked this territory!

With an angry growl he stomped right up to the human. Orange hat over his eyes, and messy black hair all over the place. Bad human! Terrible human! The phoenix used his beak to nip at the boy’s skin, but instead found an incredible discovery. He was oozing a nice, comforting, heat. He rubbed his head against the man’s stomach, and purred in delight at the cozy feeling. Better than nest! Very safe, and nice!

“Yoi!” He jumped up onto the man’s stomach, and walked in a few circles before settling down. Tucking his head into his wing as he cooed in delight. The warmth spreading throughout his body, and making his feathers tingle in joy. This human was nice, and he liked this human. And he was sure to not forget that this time.

#one piece #portgas d. ace #op marco #marco the pineapple #marco the phoenix #one piece marco #whitebeard crew #whitebeard pirates #whitebeard one piece #one piece fanfiction #op fanfic #one piece oneshot

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vampiric-daydreams · 5 years ago

Text

Severance

Jasper x Reader

This is Part 4 of the Jasper miniseries. Here is Part 1.

Summary: Jasper approaches you one evening and tries to make things right - but between your fear and your lust, you find time to question the motives of him and the rest of his family.

Word Count: 5,057

“(Y/N), please come with me.” Jasper’s voice pulled you out of your shock. You never thought you’d ever see Jasper Hale standing in your bedroom. Sure, you’d thought about it almost every night, but you never thought he’d be standing there under these conditions.

“No.” Your voice sounded firm. You kept your breath steady, refusing to succumb to the hysterics that had preyed on you earlier that day. His molten gold eyes softened. He took a cautious step towards you, but stopped as you met him with a glare.

“You figured it out all on your own,” he spoke his words slowly, as if he was afraid of scaring you away again. “I know you have a lot of questions, and I will answer them for you. But before I do, I need to be sure we’re talking about the same thing. I need you to say the word out loud.”

“You say it.”

He exhaled sharply, “I can’t. I can’t say anything until I know you’ve put it together entirely on your own.”

It was there, lingering in your mouth, impatient to be spoken but afraid to drip from your tongue. “Va-” It wouldn’t come out. Just say it. Vampire. You were in love with a vampire.

“Please, (Y/N).” Was he serious about telling you the truth, or was this all a ploy to see if they could trust you? Did they send him here to kill you? All of this had started from your silly crush on him. Was it his job to dispose of you?

You swallowed hard, and then the word fell out. “Vampire.”

The word hung in the atmosphere, turning the frigid air so brittle it could snap. He glued his eyes to you, but you could only look at the ground as your cheeks burned. How silly it sounded out loud. You may as well have called him a fairy. Your teeth nipped at your bottom lip as your last shred of confidence diminished, stranding you with dread and anticipation for the mocking laughter that never came.

Jasper denied nothing.

“I tried to give you answers at school today, but you wouldn’t follow me.” He took another step towards you; careful and steady, leaving a muddy footprint in his wake.

“Are you going to kill me because I found out?” You looked at him then. He seemed so out of place, surrounded by your mess; and thoughts of dreams you’d had of him coming to your room like this contrasted with the cold reality that threatened to devour you.

“No,” Jasper stopped you in your tracks. “We aren’t like that. We’re different from our kind, we don’t hurt humans.”

“But don’t you… drink blood?” That brought your attention to each pulse of your heart. It made you aware of the warmth rushing through your veins; and how gratifying it might feel for Jasper if he sank his teeth into the soft flesh guarding your neck.

Jasper took another wary step closer to you. “Think of us like vegetarians. We don’t drink blood from humans, but from animals instead-”

“So, you bite neighbourhood pets?” You tried to lighten the mood, hoping to distract him from your growing anxiety with humour. Jasper returned a polite chuckle, seeming to understand.

“Think more like mountain lions and bears.” A sudden flash of delicate little Alice tearing at the throat of a mountain lion made you shudder.

Jasper glanced around. “(Y/N), please know that I understand your discomfort and I don’t want to worsen it, but your house won’t be empty for much longer. It isn’t safe to have this conversation here, and I know you won’t wait until tomorrow. Please come with me, and I swear I will return you safely. The minute you say you want to come back home, I’ll stop everything and make it so.”

You wanted to take the plunge—you were already alone with him, so how different would it be? But the thought of being the single human among a family of vampires—vegetarian or not—begged you to refuse. Though it wasn’t like the last time you had spoken to him; it wasn’t like when Alice or Rosalie or Emmett had approached you. This time, your gut fought its natural survival instincts and told you that the sincerity splashed across Jasper’s refined features rang true.

“I’ll go with you on two conditions.” Jasper held eye-contact; ready to abide by your rules. “One; you keep your promise and bring me home as soon as I ask for it.”

“Of course, (Y/N).” He gave you his word. “And the second condition?”

“I get to leave a note behind saying I went with you in case something happens. Neither you nor your family can touch it, hide it, or edit it. If you meant what you said about not hurting humans, accountability shouldn’t be too harsh a term.”

He followed you into the kitchen where you grabbed an orange sticky-note and began writing a quick message. “There is no reason for us to meddle with it. You’ll be safe.”

“You guys can’t steal it either, like I know you did with my notebook.”

Anyone else would have missed the quick flash of hurt in his eyes, but you caught it right before he masked it. “My family and I aren’t the evil people you think we are. But that notebook is evidence, and therefore a danger to our existence. We can’t have it falling into the wrong hands.”

You frowned, “I wasn’t going to…”

“We know that now, but we can’t risk anybody else finding it.”

“Is… Is that why you guys were so unkind to me? Was I close to figuring it out?” Despite the supernatural discoveries and truth, being treated like that by those so close to the guy you liked had stung you deeply. If you were correct about him having an emotion-influencing ability, it was likely he knew how you were feeling. Jasper didn’t answer.

“We need to go, now,” was all he said. You grabbed your keys as he led you out the front door to where his motorbike was parked on your front lawn. He passed you a black helmet. “I’ll answer more questions when we get there—whatever you want. I’ll stay by your side until sunrise if that’s how you want it.”

You took the helmet from him, grazing his hand on purpose. It was just as cold as last time. You took his hand in yours and held it for a moment. He didn’t pull away yet, and allowed you to press your soft, warm flesh against his icy marble skin. It was hard like stone. You turned his hand so that his palm was facing upwards and traced it with your finger; slowly grazing from his palm to his wrist, noting the absence of veins but the appearance of bite marks, similar to Bella’s; though larger in quantity. He pulled away from you, then.

“The sooner we leave, the sooner you can ask me everything.” He put his own helmet on, likely for the sake of appearances, and sat on the bike. You followed him.

“What, you aren’t going to turn into a bat and fly me there?” you asked as the motorcycle revved.

A genuine chuckle escaped his lips. “No, that’s a myth; and I didn’t want to scare you with our natural method of travel.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist as the bike took off slowly, building speed. “What is it?”

He didn’t answer you; not that you would have been able to hear him as you ripped through the wind, wondering if you were on the road to certain death. As hard as your heart was beating; both from the uncertainty and the physical contact, the smell of Jasper, of fresh citrus and some sort of flowery scent, made you never want to let go. You waited for him to speed up again, to give you an excuse to hold on tighter. The town of Forks faded away, your surroundings growing deeper and denser with forest. Before long, you could see the Cullen house through the trees.

It wasn’t at all what you had expected. You hadn’t thought of gloomy castles with dungeons or anything, but the openness of the architecture surprised you. The house was large and extravagant, easily worth millions. The bright colours stood out against the greens and browns of the surrounding woods; and the rectangular shapes and wide windows introduced a stunning, modern feel.

Jasper parked the motorcycle in the driveway, hanging his helmet on one handlebar. You copied him. “Are you going to tell me everything, now?”

“(Y/N), I’ve admitted to being a vampire and brought you to my home. Don’t you want to poke around?”

“Loitering outside the lion’s den is risky enough; there’s no way I’m walking straight in.” You spotted a log in the distance; blanketed in thick, green moss that was definitely not inside his house. He followed behind and sat beside you.

“What do you want to know?”

You didn’t even know where to start. Combing through what you already knew, you thought it best to elaborate a little. “Why do your eyes change colour?”

“They change based on feeding. When we’re full, they look like mine always do. But when we’re hungry, they darken.”

“So, do you… overeat or something? I’ve never seen your eyes look any different.”

He shifted his weight. “I prefer to be well-fed when in the presence of humans; particularly in high-density areas like high schools.”

Stupid question. “O-Of course. You guys wouldn’t want any accidents… Have there been any accidents? Have you ever killed someone?” When you asked him this, it was because you were embarrassed about asking such an obvious question. You tried to cover it up by rambling. So, when Jasper’s gaze lowered to the forest floor and his lips sealed shut, the shock of it made you jolt. He had.

“You’re getting scared. I can feel it. (Y/N) I promise that was a long time ago and as difficult as this diet is for me, I’m getting better and better every day.”

The next question shot out of your mouth like a bullet. “Exactly how safe am I with you right now? You’re getting better? Is it hard for you to be near me right now?”

“You’re very safe. The others are inside and will stop me if anything happens.” The way he spoke about the prospect of murdering you was so uncomfortably casual, like it happened all the time. It was as if a thousand disapproving eyes were glaring down at you, wondering what the hell you were thinking by coming here.

“When was the last time you killed—no—when was the last time you tried to kill somebody? Successful or not?” Bella’s bitten wrist was at the forefront of your mind as you waited for an explanation. “Did you give Bella that bite?”

“No, that was from another vampire. He’s dead now; but he drank human blood and went after Bella.” Jasper paused, studying you with his citrine stare. “This isn’t helping. You’re still afraid.”

“Am I already in danger because I know?”

Jasper slid closer, bridging the gap between you. “Not so long as no one else finds out.”

“I’ve told you I won’t tell anyone.” It hurt that he didn’t seem to trust you; like this entire thing was an excuse for the Cullens to follow up on your character. You stuffed your hands in your pockets and looked at the dirt beneath you; wondering if that was how the Cullens thought of you. Dirt. For liking Jasper, they probably hated you; Edward certainly seemed to feel that way. Perhaps their apologies only came once their rudeness drew too much of your attention? Little did they know.

“Other vampires,” Jasper’s clarification interrupted your spiralling mind. “So long as no vampires find out.”

“What about Bella? Is she-”

His next words slashed your heart like a knife. “Bella’s situation with Edward is different to yours and mine.”

The reminder knocked the wind out of you. It was the truth; the vampire you had fallen in love with wasn’t available, and you solving the mystery of his true nature would not change that. It would not impress him so much that he’d slide into bed with you and abandon the girl who—for all you knew—he had been with for hundreds of years. An unkind part of you wanted to kiss Jasper there and then; just to get something out of this mess. Or was it to prove to him you could be like Edward and Bella? A powerful urge to further insert yourself fought to take over. It couldn’t be that difficult. He wasn’t too far to miss. You fought back against the desire.

“Can we go inside? I-If that’s still okay… I’m cold.” You disregarded your fear about entering a vampire’s lair. Now, you wanted to see where he lived, and sat, and watched TV.

Your hands were still stuffed in your pockets, freezing. You wondered if they would be the same temperature as his now. You got your answer as he held your hands in his, gently helping you stand; ever the gentleman. Every instance of chivalry you had watched him perform for Alice ran through your brain like a movie. It was a habit of his time. His hard marble skin contrasted with your own soft flesh as you fought the urge to entwine your fingers with his; to bring your lips to his, to make him press you against a tree.

Instead, he pulled you up and then let go of you without a second thought. Shame weighed down your shoulders. He winced, not looking at you now. Your voice trembled. “Can you sense emotions?”

“Yes.”

Did that include lust?

You changed the subject, not daring to ask for elaboration. “When we go in… is everyone—are their eyes going to be gold?”

He seemed to relax as you said that; chuckling softly, like music to your ears. “Nobody is thirsty, so yes. You’ll be fine in there. They want to see you for themselves again, though. And there are some things Alice would like to clarify.”

Alice. Would she pull you aside and intimidate you? Stay away from my boyfriend or I’ll literally kill you?

You swallowed thickly, following Jasper up to the front door of the house. Inside, his home was light and inviting. The walls were painted white, and there was a lot of open space. Various paintings decorated the walls, including an enormous picture frame filled with a rainbow of graduation caps. Your lips curled as you got the joke.

“Where is everyone?” Knowing they were aware of your presence was startling, in a way. Could they smell you the whole time you were outside? Had they heard what you were saying? An overwhelming sense of dread consumed you as you realised who else would be waiting. Did Edward hear you contemplating kissing Jasper? You hadn’t seen Edward at all since the incident at school. He hadn’t approached you like the others had, and the mere thought of seeing him again after all his mind-reading made your knees quiver.

Jasper didn’t reply and continued to walk. You followed behind him, sticking closer than he probably would have liked.

Alice was the first to reveal herself, meeting you at the top of the white staircase. Her usual beaming smile was absent from her face as she looked between you both. “(Y/N), thank you for coming.” Bile rose in your throat; you wanted to throw up. Edward had likely told her about what you were thinking outside. You couldn’t speak and only nodded your head in response. You risked a glance at Jasper, who was staring intensely at his girlfriend; but Alice’s attention was fixed on you. She took a small step closer to you. Her usual voice, as graceful as wind chimes, sounded cracked. “Can I borrow you first?”

Jasper’s eyes were downcast while Alice’s held an edge of urgency. “O-Okay… Um-”

“I won’t be long, Jaz.” She cut through your mumbling, still not looking at Jasper. He nodded, jaw clenched, and walked past her, deeper into the house. Alice seemed to relax after he left and took your hands in her cold ones. “How are you feeling about everything?”

That was the last thing you had expected to hear from her just then. “I’m fine… considering.”

Her smile returned, adding sugar to her sweet, honeyed eyes. “I want to take it upon myself to explain what really happened. I’m sorry I lied to you at the café—but we have an important secret to protect and I just couldn’t-”

“I get it, it’s fine. But now I’m wondering, did I actually deserve it?”

“(Y/N), come with me.” She twirled around and fluttered down a hallway to your right. She led you to a room covered in everything Alice. Walking through the door was like having her entire personality punch you in the face at once. Like the rest of the house, the walls were painted white, and the ceilings were to the heavens. All-white modern furniture decorated the space; accompanied by some mannequins modelling some of Alice’s nicer luxury pieces by the vanity. White, floating bookshelves hovered on the back wall beside modern artworks and posters of fashion designs. Enlarged photos of Alice and Jasper in black-and-white decorated the walls on the opposite side. A pile of designer clothing was heaped onto the enormous, white bed on the left side of the room.

“Couldn’t decide what to wear?” You cracked a joke as you took everything in. Alice returned a smile.

“At least someone around here understands.”

Looking at the intricately designed headboard, the words left your mouth before you could stop them. “You don’t sleep in coffins?” You looked at her wide-eyed. Just because Jasper was okay with the stereotypes, it didn’t mean Alice would be.

“Oh, no. That’s a myth. We don’t sleep.”

“At all?” You looked between her and the gigantic bed, and then realisation clicked. A pang of jealousy twisted your insides as you understood exactly how the bed was used. You recalled Jasper’s old words. So, Alice and I will have the entire house to ourselves again, which is always a pleasurable time.

As if sensing where your mind was going, she changed the subject. “There are some things that I need to explain—with the truth, this time—I promise. Please, take a seat wherever you like.”

After seeing the bed and knowing what its sole purpose was, you couldn’t stop yourself from spitefully sitting right on it .. “Did I freak you guys out back then or something?”

“(Y/N), we know you’re already aware of what Edward and Jasper can do. My gift is seeing the future. It’s a little flimsier than what you’re imagining. I can see the decisions people make and then what the outcomes of those decisions will be. And I’ve been having quite a few visions about you.” You watched her, mouth hanging open, waiting for her to continue because you didn’t know how to respond to that. What had she seen? What decisions had you made without realising? Alice continued, “I saw you finding out we were vampires early on. During your fascination with Jasper, you noticed the same things you ended up noticing, anyway. In the vision, you reacted differently. You let your fear rule you, and you came close to exposing our secret.”

“Did you kill me?” You asked. “In the vision?”

“No, but the decisions themselves were fragile. I had three unique visions about you in one day, all in which you found out about us. And in only one of them, you kept our secret. At first I didn’t realise how you were figuring everything out, but Edward heard your thoughts about Jasper and we put it together. We tried to wean you off of him; so Jasper talked to you more - but only about me and how happy we were. The plan was to make you stop liking him so you’d stop noticing things—but it backfired. Jasper used his gift on you when you were too close to figuring it out. Edward suggested a colder approach, which was too hard for Jasper as he could feel everything you were feeling.

“Then, I met you at the café and tried to smooth over the situation. We approached it differently again. So, we treated you kindly and acted like the entire thing was just Edward running on a tangent—but my visions about the outcome were murky. They kept changing. Sometimes you’d figure it out and react badly, other times you’d let it go and move on from us, and only once did you find out and accept us. I think we’re living in that vision now.”

It was a lot to take in, and you had so many questions; but the one that came out was, “I can’t imagine trying to tell anyone about any of this.”

“The whole Edward-as-the-scapegoat story wasn’t a complete lie. When he read your mind, he saw that you would often fantasise about-” she paused, almost as if she was about to choke. “About separating Jasper and myself. Jasper had no intentions of letting that happen—but Edward wondered if your disposition might change after you found out about everything. If you were capable of blackmail, or-”

“I’m not. So you can all chill out, if that’s what I’m really here for.” Your anger at Edward was justified, then. “For all of you to check if I’m safe.”

“My intention tonight wasn’t to upset you-”

“Jasper!” You called out. Behind you, one door to the adjoining rooms opened and Jasper emerged. “I want to go home now.”

“Of course.” You didn’t miss the look he gave Alice; it was one of frustration. And as before by the stairwell, Alice didn’t look back at him.

“Goodbye, (Y/N),” Alice’s angelic voice rang from behind you as you left the room. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you.”

It didn’t take long for you to get back outside. The wind had picked up, and the air smacking against your face made it harder to hold back your tears. Jasper’s voice came as a comfort. “Are you okay, (Y/N)?”

You didn’t reply and only shook your head as a stream of tears spilled down your cheeks. The embarrassment of it all. These people truly thought the worst of you. Edward was still assuming your entire personality and relaying the most negative parts of it to the rest of his family; and Alice insinuated that you were a traitor. Meanwhile, all of this was happening in front of Jasper. You were now crying in front of him, and he wouldn’t even comfort you.

“What were you doing in the neighbouring room?” You wiped your tears on your sleeves.

“We have a closet and an office adjoined to our room, and I wanted to be nearby to keep my promise about taking you home.”

You were glad you were facing away from him, because you couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing your eyes shut and silently sobbing. Our room. They shared it; of course. You had been mistaken in thinking it only belonged to Alice. All the humiliation on top of the physical reminders that Jasper was spoken for was too much at once. You regretted ever going inside. Now you definitely wanted to throw up. The vampire thing should have scared you away from him. It should have made you run for the hills; and while you were still afraid from time to time, it somehow made you love him even more.

Jasper had moved closer to you while you cried, and you could feel his cold hand chilling your shoulder through the fabric of your shirt. “Are you ready to leave?”

You still had so many questions—the tension between Alice and Jasper being at the forefront of your mind. Had you caused it? But you couldn’t ask, not with your feelings already so out in the open. You had embarrassed yourself enough up to this point. So instead, you nodded and turned to face Jasper; no longer caring if he saw you cry. Your voice sounded raspy as you said, “I want you to use your gift to make me stop feeling sad. Will you?”

“You’re sure?” But he didn’t hesitate; and already the melancholy made way for contentment. You wiped the rest of the tears from your face.

“Thank you.” You wanted to ask him to do something else, but couldn’t will yourself to ask the question. He handed the motorcycle helmet to you for the second time that night, and you paused. “What’s your natural method of travel? The one you mentioned earlier?”

“We can run really fast. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen, and faster than you could imagine. I’d be happy to run you home, but not if it will scare you.”

“It won’t.”

He gestured for you to climb onto his back, and you did; resisting the urge to bury your face in his neck. His muscular arms held you close as he reminded you softly, “Hold on as tightly as you can.”

Without another moment’s notice, he launched you through the forest at an impossible speed. The tall trees surrounding you morphed into an indistinguishable wall of brown and green, and the ground behind you moved so quickly it made your eyes blur. Before you could even think to breathe, Jasper had stopped outside your front door and the world around you was visible again. The world was spinning, and Jasper picked you up bridal-style and carried you through the front door to your bedroom; carefully laying you down on your bed and sitting beside you on the mattress. “You’ve had a big night, you should get some sleep.”

“Wait,” you called out before he could disappear. “What happens now?”

You wanted him to say he would call you tomorrow, or meet you somewhere. You wanted to be told that this would continue—but the serious look on Jasper’s face warned that you wouldn’t be hearing any of that. Conflicting looks crossed over his features as he looked like he was debating something within himself. “You should talk to Alice again when you can. There’s a lot more to her vision than what she explained to you. It’s important that you seek her when you’re ready to listen. It’s about you, and you deserve to know what she believes will be coming.” He added dryly, “You’ll like what she saw for you.”

“And what about you, though?”

“Because of… foreseen circumstances, Alice has asked for some distance in our relationship for now. I can feel her emotions. I know what she’s trying to do—and you’ll find out when you talk to her—but I can’t let her. Please understand this. Regardless of whatever Alice says to you, I need you to keep a distance from me.”

“But-”

“There is nothing you can say to change my mind, I meant what I said. I love Alice with my entire heart. We have been married since 1950. Now you know everything, there’s no reason for you and I to continue talking about it. Please talk to Alice; but listen to me. I will not leave my wife for you.”

That was the final blow; all you needed to push you into an unfamiliar territory; one where you wanted to sever the one-sided bond. You thought back at the question you didn’t ask him earlier and realised you might die if you didn’t. “I want you to use your gift again to help me achieve that. Every time I feel attracted to you, every time I love you or I want you… You have to quell it. I realise I’m in way over my head. I realise I am embarrassing myself by continuing to love you.” Jasper winced as you said the last sentence, but watched you intently as you continued. “I can’t stay away from you if I can’t get over you. I need help. Will you please put me out of my misery and control my feelings for me?”

“I can only do it while I’m in range. It’ll wear off-”

“It might at least condition me to stop thinking about you. I don’t know. Can we at least try it?”

His beautiful eyes locked with yours, and your heart felt lighter. As you watched the vampire in front of you, he looked less godlike, less devastating. Still conventionally attractive, you felt the adoration slip away as you studied his face, his hair, his body… Everything melted away and was replaced by neutrality. For the first time in a while, you stared at Jasper Hale and you didn’t want to kiss him, or hold him, or profess your love with him.

If anything, you wanted him out of your room.

And so, with one last look at you to make sure it worked, Jasper turned away from you and walked out the door.

For the first time in a long time, you could breathe again.

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @eggmettcullen @scuzmunkie @xcharlottemikaelsonx @oi-itsemily @cacti-succulents-andlesbians @aw0kenangel @jelly-fishy-babie @kawaiikpoplover268 @awkwardnesshabitat @salsameter @dillybuggg @awesomebooklover17 @badgirlsdeaddreams @raindancer2004 @camillapad @champagnejoker @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo @starrybumbles @bubblegumcat229 @boywivlove @mauvette268 @pleasantlycrazyworld

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timextoxhajima · 4 years ago

Text

GEN Z SERIES, HYUNJAE: The Third Eye

"Will you choose to believe what you see or what you feel?”

Member: Hyunjae

Genre: Fantasy / Slice of Life / Supernatural / Angst / TW

Trigger Warnings: Rape, Self-Harm

Word Count: 5.8k

Taglist: @yn-am-pm @fleurseoul @sunwoowuvbot

The first time I knew I saw something that wasn't there, I was scared. How was an eight-year-old supposed to treat an elderly man who looked closer to a skeleton than a human being standing in the corner of the room... of an elderly's home?

I remember my mother combing my grandmother's hair while my father was helping me pick up my crayons off the floor when I saw him. Nurses were walking down the corridors in a hurry. I remember nobody noticed -- or at least, unlike the conventional way of death that has been portrayed in movies and books by the very cliché usage of the flatlining on the monitor. He had a good amount of hair for an old man in his nineties.

Then again, it might've been his deteriorating health that made him look older than he actually was when he died. Time seemed to pass a lot slower when they let me see them. Unlike the way his skin seemed to sink in between his ribs and wrap around the bones of his arms, his eyes were full of light. The kind that I recognised when I was at school. I didn't know then, because I was just a child he realised could see his soul. But I will never forget the blessing he placed on the top of my head. Every single word etched into my mind like carved into stone.

I told my grandmother about the man I saw earlier that day when my parents went to talk to the nurses of the elderly home. She was scared at first, when she realised her grandchild had abilities that not many had. Yet, she never told my parents, because she knew they would convince themselves that they could do something about it -- as if one could really remove the powers of a third eye all so easily.

Angels are not beings with wings or halos but instead, a bright orb of gold and white. The old man waved so dearly to me, after giving his children and grandchildren a kiss atop their heads though they couldn't feel it. He was 88, auspicious numbers in many cultures. Then when the orb of light drifted in through the window, I remember I could almost hear the sounds of kittens and puppies. But just as it neared him, I heard the familiar sounds of laughter from his children and grandchildren, then static sounds of radio and music I didn't recognise. I will later find out that the music belonged in the 40s.

The orb presents you with everything you've loved and enjoyed and held close to your heart in your life, and should you be content with what the orb has to offer you, then it must be time for you to go.

But where there is light, there is darkness. Where there are orbs of smiles and flowers, there are daggers of blood and evil lurking in the shadows. I was 13 when I saw evil in one of its many forms. I had a headache the entire day, a sign to tell me that my third eye is in close proximity with something that did not align with my believes and morals.

I had expected something to jump out at me through the reflection off the mirror, or a hand to burst through the ground and grab me by the ankle. But no, evil in one of its many forms does not need it to be horrifying and scary.

Her hair was long, and her face was covered in what looked like burn marks.

Does Hell burn through you so quickly?

She looks human, but her fingers were split down the middle, thorns sticking out every finger, in which on each hand she has ten.

As she graced the corridors of school, she sheds these thorns that drop like nails to the floor, waiting for someone to step on those facing upwards. Have you ever gotten a sharp ache or pinch in the soles of your feet when you're walking sometimes?

If you have, then you would've probably stepped on a Hell's Thorn, or at least, that's what I called it. I never found out if she could see me, but when I realised I could touch the thorns and kick them out of sight, they'd roll off into some corner before dissolving into red ash.

Over a decade of being stuck between two worlds. I've done enough reading to understand the dangers of prancing along this line, not being able to shut one side off completely. So, when the ghosts, demons and spirits hide in the shadows of my room, or stare at me point-blank in the middle of the day like a normal human being would, it becomes normal.

They are everywhere, even when you cannot feel them. It gets confusing, when they look more human than some human beings.

Just how much longer... or how much more can I stay like this?

"I don't know where your diary is. If you're telling me it's here, then I'm telling you it's gone."

You are standing right smack in the middle of the school field, afternoon sun beaming down onto your hair. Squinting your eyes, you look around the large space of artificial grass and beyond that, the tracks, where students were finding some fun in running laps in the summer heat.

"But..."

"Lee Eun," Your heart breaks, more than necessary, because this is not the first time you've done it. "What you're looking for isn't here. The building your locker was in was torn down 20 years ago and if it was there, it's gone now. Or at least..." She watches you turn around and stare at the ground beneath your feet. "It's not here anymore."

Lee Eun was a student from your school that graduated in 2000. But she lost her life the day she graduated, only because she hadn't seen the brick falling from the nearby construction site where the school building you attended now was being built.

The silence becomes unbearable so you look up, but you only see the two male students jogging along the track and nobody else in sight. The orb did not come to collect Lee Eun's soul; this is not over.

The sweat has stuck your uniform to your back when you return to class, and it becomes apparent to you that a particular shadow has not shifted an inch since you've stepped into the classroom. You weren't in pain, so this entity is not a demon. Yet, you cannot identify its gender. It had no face, no hair, just... a volume of shadow and darkness and if the girls sitting before it knew it was there, they'd probably scream their head off.

You know its staring at you with every intention in its spirit, though you cannot see its eyes. And it stays when the teacher enters the classroom with a new student trailing behind him. For a moment, your attention is diverted to Jang Jun Hyuk, hair brown and skin fair. The girls in the class were already ogling over him, it's not a surprise anymore. But the shadow turns to look at him, then at you, and the darkness dissolves into the beige wall behind it, vanishing as Jang Jun Hyuk bows and introduces himself.

Then the king of the class speaks at a volume you know you weren't supposed to hear, but consider it a special talent now that you've honed the skills of your third eye.

"Strange vibes," Lee Hyunjae was probably talking to Younghoon. "Don't you think there's something off about him?"

"Are you sure you're not just threatened that there's someone who rivals our popularity?"

Jang Jun Hyuk bows to the class, then is instructed by the teacher to take a seat diagonally behind you, right in front of Lee Hyunjae.

"Hey, new kid."

A frown gently presses itself into your forehead when you can hear Younghoon give Hyunjae a gentle whack on his shoulder.

"Where did you move from?"

"Ah, I moved from another city. My father was transferred."

The shadow was now standing by the door of the classroom, watching the teacher scribble on the whiteboard.

"Cool," Hyunjae offers a friendly laugh. That's more like him. "Join us at lunch, provided you don't have a crowd to hang out with yet."

“Uh, sure.”

The shadow turns to look at you -- even without eyes, you know it’s watching you.

By the time you have been dragged to the cafeteria by your friends (though most people tend to think you’re weird for talking to yourself sometimes), Hyunjae has doubled over on some bench cracking up at a joke Jun Hyuk made.

Your friends can’t help but to draw your attention to the new addition to the group of popular males.

“Man fits right in, doesn’t he?”

“At least he looks like one of them.”

“y/n,” One of the two call out to you. “What happened to... what was her name?”

“Lee Eun.”

“Right, the ghost from twenty years ago. How is she?”

The two look at you with wide, glistening eyes. Most people aren’t as accommodating to your abilities, so it’s a blessing to have them by your side.

“I haven’t seen her since earlier today. She said she had a diary in school but she never found it.”

“Well, maybe it is still in school somewhere, locked up in some lost and found box or lost in some locker. Why else would she still be here and can’t... you know, move on?”

You shrug. I wish I knew.

The library was always comforting. The silence, the sound of pages being flipped and the occasional clicking of someone’s keyboard. And strangely enough, the library’s never really a hotspot for other beings except humans.

The peace was, unfortunately, disrupted though, when Jun Hyuk shows up with his backpack and tie neat around his collar. You greet him subtly before returning to your notes, but he sits down opposite you and renders your desire to be alone useless.

“Hyunjae and Younghoon told me you would be here.”

The pen in your grip gets lowered into the ivory sheets, gaze travelling up to look at him through your lashes. “Lee Hyunjae and Kim Younghoon? Why would they tell you where I am?”

Jun Hyuk offers a shy smile, diverting his brown irises away from you for a second. “Because I asked.”

The cold air stings your nose when you suck in a deep breath. “Why, do you need help with work? Because I’m literally the worst person to ask--”

“No, I just needed to know where I could find you so I could spend time with you.”

Your heart begins to thump madly, because it’s not everyday that a guy is so straightforward with his intentions to someone he just met.

“Uh--” You purse your lips in a bid to form a coherent sentence. “That’s really... honest of you.”

Jun Hyuk grins sweetly, eyes halving into crescents and creasing his skin around his lids. He has a dimple in his left cheek, a detail that you wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t sitting directly opposite you.

“So, can I?”

Confusion strikes you, only because assumption is a dangerous thing we like to do.

“Can you... what?”

“Hang out with you.”

The whir of the air-conditioner in the library becomes a little louder alongside the thumping that was now difficult to ignore in your head.

The blood rushes up to your cheeks and you can feel your face catching fire, so Jun Hyuk eases it by restarting a conversation.

“Anyway, have you done the work from today?”

“I--” You look down at the worksheet he was taking out from his bag. It’s barely filled. “I’ve been staring at it for awhile now--”

“Not good at Math?”

“I’m better at...” Jun Hyuk takes the worksheet and gets up, scooting over to the seat next to you. A gulp finds a way down your throat. “...English and Literature...”

“Well, it’s your lucky day because I’m great at Math.”

Up close, Jin Hyuk smells like fresh linen.

Not a great sign. He knows what makes a girl tick.

Jun Hyuk spends the rest of the afternoon helping you with the worksheet, and the glimmer in his eyes...

“Are you listening?”

Your jaw slacks in surprise, blinking your attention away from staring at him. A chuckle sounds from Jun Hyuk, who looks away with the slightest hint of pride.

Jun Hyuk makes you feel like you are prancing on clouds for the next few weeks. The little notes he passed in class that earned the attention of his new friends, Younghoon and Hyunjae. The sweets and treats that he’d leave on your desk before school and the after-school study sessions were your favourite part of the day.

He’d expected you to be calm and collected when he took the initiative to hold your hand under the table, but he could read how nervous and anxious you got, so he thinks it’s a good idea to ease that anxiety with a kiss on your cheek.

Lee Eun was no longer around to ask you for her diary, but the faceless shadow was still tailing you when you were in the classroom. It’s never interfered with your daily routine though, thus you choose to leave it be and enjoy being a normal teenager for once.

Three months after you met Jun Hyuk though, you could tell Hyunjae was deliberately steering away from him, dragging Younghoon along with him. You can’t help but wonder if it was because you and Jun Hyuk were now romantically involved and that Hyunjae had probably caught wind of the fact that you could see things that weren’t there, leading him to ostracise Jun Hyuk.

Not that it had that much effect anyway, Jun Hyuk was a charming boy on his own; he didn’t need Hyunjae’s help to ‘make it’ in school.

The day carries on as per usual with Jun Hyuk staying in school to study with you. Hands busy scribbling away and eyes darting across worksheets, you’ve always admired how focussed he gets when he does his work.

In attempt to pull him out of his stress-bubble, you cap on your pen and lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder after making sure there was nobody else left in the library.

“Do you want to take a break? You’ve been going at it for quite some time now.”

“I’m just about there, just hold on a minute, would you?”

A pout surfaces on your lips. “I know. I just... do you ever feel bad that Hyunjae and Younghoon aren’t as close to you as before?”

Jun Hyuk finishes the line he’s writing and looks up at you. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know, I just... you must’ve heard the rumor that I can see ghosts. Aren’t you upset that they might be leaving you out because of that?”

“You can see ghosts?” He scoffs. His attitude feels strange today, though he hasn’t said anything wrong. “That’s just stupid. And no, I don’t really care.”

“Oh,” A pause halts you, so you can think of an appropriate response. “You don’t... believe in ghosts or spirits?”

“No, that stuff is for kids.”

The thought of Jun Hyuk not believing in something you were known to be able to see was strangely more discomforting than not.

“Why’d you ask about Hyunjae and Younghoon? I thought you weren’t close with those guys?” He’s placing his pens into his pencil case and keeping his worksheets in his file. You start doing the same.

“I-- I’m not, I’m just asking for your sake.”

“My sake?” He clears the table of his items and leans back in his seat. “Why would it bother me? Is it because you don’t get to talk to them anymore?”

“What? Why would that matter to me?”

“I don’t know, you were pretty smitten with Hyunjae just a few weeks ago.”

“Since when?”

“You think I didn’t notice when you were smiling at him when he was making those jokes-- they weren’t even that funny?”

A frown has finally cemented itself between your brows. “I’m sorry, where is this jealousy even coming from? Why didn’t you just tell me when you saw it?”

Jun Hyuk goes silent, and you can tell he’s upset just by thinking about it. Sighing, you rest your head on his shoulder again in a bid to appease his anger.

“Alright, I’m sorry, okay? I was just concerned that you might feel left out or anything. And rest assured, I wasn’t flirting with Hyunjae.”

Jun Hyuk hums in response, reaching your chin to pull you closer. Your heart starts to pound in your ear when he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips against yours, the sudden intimacy catching you off-guard and sending chills down your spine.

Something doesn’t feel right.

“Jun--” You manage to cough out, just as he starts to bury his nose and lips into your neck. “Jun Hyuk, not here.”

“Come on, there’s nobody here. Isn’t it exciting?” He smirks into your skin but it makes you feel dirty.

“Jun, we really shouldn’t. I’m tired today so...” Gently pushing him off, his eyes are now filled with the ache of rejection. Somewhere inside you, you hope that he understands. But you also hope he knows he’s being an asshole.

“I... I think I’m going to go,” Backing away, you can hear your heart in your ears as you reverse, returning to the table to clear your stationery. His footsteps come dangerously close behind you before you are yanked around violently, each of your elbows coming into tight restraint in his palms.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going home,” When your eyes meet his, they are dark under the lighting. And even then, it seems like the man you trusted had turned to dust and blown away in the wind. “Please, let me go.”

“But don’t you trust me? Didn’t you say that you didn’t know what you’d do without me?” It’s horrifying when his nose comes dangerously closely to yours, his lips that were once part of a daydream now slowly being torn to shreds, forming an idea of a nightmare in your mind.

If you could feel darkness, you were sure you could hurl out nothing but black masses, when he aggressively pastes his lips to yours. There’s a stark difference being in love and being trustworthy... and being this person who was cutting off the blood supply from your face to your mouth now.

“Let me go, please!” Your strength is rendered useless in his tight grip around your wrists, and now he decides to shift his tongue to your neck, harshly sucking on the skin and flesh and making you want to hurl and sob instead. The struggle you offered was of no use to Jun Hyuk, not when he is able to shove you backwards and plaster your back to the study desk with all your pens and pencils under your back.

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?!”

“You should’ve thought about that before you kissed me first in the garden the other day, no?”

The tears finally stream when the betrayal sets in. Not even prayers would work anymore, would they?

Using his upper body weight to hold you to the table, the metal clinking of his belt comes like a warning when you can feel the tears wetting the strands of your hair.

“Jun Hyuk, please...”

“Shut up,” Ice cold fingers run up the length of your thighs and around your hips under your skirt, scratching your skin as he removes your underwear. “Isn’t this how much you trust me?”

Sobs run through gritted teeth as your chin tilts to the ceiling, his body absorbing every ounce of struggle and force you were exerting on him. But, it was so easily drained into him that you were gradually turning limp and lifeless. Hearing him undo his zipper while he wets and marks your skin with his tongue and teeth shuts off all your senses. Your eyes flutter shut with resignation, the shivering and trembling seeping away with your need to escape.

Help me.

Something fuses loudly. The lights go off.

“Who’s there?! Motherfucker!”

The zip goes back up, and the weight on you shifts away.

“I’m going to kill you!”

His voice wears away, getting softer with his footsteps.

Still crying, you pull up your underwear that was dangling at your ankles and push yourself off the surface of the table. Everything on the desk gets swept into your back before you stumble out of the secluded study area, the light of the late sunset greeting your tear stained face.

Reaching home feels like reaching the end point in a marathon, just that instead of feeling pride and glory, you were feeling nothing but worthlessness.

The lukewarm water feels like a gentle hug around your body when you sink into the cold marble, knees propped up and surfaced with your feet flat against the base of the bathtub.

Swollen eyes from crying but too tired to cry somemore, and you find difficulty in even remembering why you even fell for Jun Hyuk in the first place.

It was my fault for bringing it up. I shouldn’t have brought it up.

Maybe if I didn’t have this gift then I didn’t need to ask or worry about Jun Hyuk being ostracised. Maybe it shouldn’t be called a gift after all.

This pain is temporary, right? This small blade can do more than ease the pain. This blood that colors the water can do more than dry the tears from my eyes.

I wish I wasn’t born with this gift.

You close your eyes and let yourself sink into the tub, under the surface of the water. The water starts to feel thicker, and before you can count to five, it starts going up your nose.

But then it feels like you’ve been sucked into another dimension and thrown back onto your bed when you gasp, sitting up and choking out what feels like water in your throat.

Your hands fumble around yourself, and you wince when you look down at your wrists. The vertical cut looked more like a scar that’s already healed, rather than an injury you had chosen to inflict on yourself just hours before.

The clock strikes 3.33am, and while you would usually be kind of freaked out because 3 is not an auspicious number, you can’t help but to feel some kind of relief when you realised you were still alive.

The next few days you spend in the shadows. Jun Hyuk tries to apologise to you on more than one occasion, but when you glitch and nearly break down when he gets anywhere near you, your friends start to understand that something had happened.

Why would you want to take your life all of a sudden?

Mr. Shadowman doesn’t leave you alone though. Instead, it starts following you more aggressively, showing up in the strangest of places and in the most horrendous positions. You had seen it standing with its feet planted to the ceiling of the cafeteria, then again standing perfectly still behind the classroom door when the teacher closed it.

Then it finally follows you into the bathroom after school. You’ve changed your studying location to your classroom, so you wouldn’t need to worry about being alone.

But no matter how many times you see this shadow, seeing it curled up under the sink in the female’s toilet makes you yelp and jump backwards, not even enticing a reaction from it.

“You...” Gripping the edge of the sink, you squat and stare at it. “What do you need from me?”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere nearer to it if I were you.” Your eyes dart up into the broken glass above the sink. Seeing Hyunjae staring at you through the reflection, with the pillar hiding the rest of his body was surprising.

It dawns on you that whatever you were seeing, Hyunjae could see it too.

The shadow remained still under the sink, crouched into a mass like someone holding its knees to its chest. The water dripping from under the sink slips through the mass like it wasn’t there. Hyunjae spares you a few seconds to stare at it some more until he grabs your arm and pulls you out of the toilet.

“What the-- don’t touch me--” Yanking your wrist out of his hands, you jerk away from him. The impact pulls your sleeves upwards, revealing the bruises that Jun Hyuk had left on you just a few days ago -- and the scar of the cut down your forearm.

His attention is stolen by the marks, cuing you to nervously pull your sleeves back down as you steal a glance at Hyunjae’s face.

“Don’t interact with that thing,” He advises after a few moments of silence. “It’s been following you.”

Looking up with a harsh frown on your face, confusion and anger starts to seep through your bones.

“You mean to tell me you could see these things all this while?”

Hyunjae’s eyes fill with a tiny pinch of guilt, but he doesn’t look away.

“That thing is harmless,” Your thumb brushes across the area where the bruise was hidden under the material of your sleeve. “It saved me.”

“If it’s harmless or any bit human then why doesn’t it have a face? Or eyes or hair or a mouth?”

“So, you can’t see what it is either. Have you seen others? Ghosts, the angel orbs, demons--”

“Get this clear in your head, I am not here to discuss what you can see,” Hyunjae takes a step closer and looks at you with an expression you can’t read. Was he angry? Frustrated? Worried? Concerned?

“But do not engage with whatever that is. They only stick around if you entertain it, and right now, you are just short of becoming friends with it.”

“You make it sound like you know everything about that other world.”

“And you make it sound like you haven’t seen a demon and that there are no dangers of it.”

The proximity starts to make you anxious; his build is similar to Jun Hyuk’s and the physical confrontation starts to knock on your skull is all the ways possible. Hyunjae retreats when he notices your eyes are unable to meet his now, and he walks away with his fists clenched.

That night, you are unable to fall asleep. Not with the new revelation that Hyunjae can see the same things you do. Or was it just the shadow that he can see?

Has he seen the orbs or angels or demons?

You sit up in your bed, eyes adjusting to the darkness when a thud wakes you up. The crickets outside are loud in the silent night, but it takes you just a split second to recognise the shadow standing in the corner where the door meets the corner of the room.

Keeping your eyes peeled, you fumble around at your nightstand, searching for the button of the lamp. It doesn’t disappear though, when the amber light illuminates the cream-pink room.

“What do you need?” The query comes out more like a whisper, because most spirits you meet are ghosts who need your help or are willing to talk to you -- most of them have faces and eyes and have some resemblance to being human at some point of time in their life.

The shadow pulls itself off the wall, and turns from a flat, regular shadow into a mass of darkness; the same way it was in the classroom when you first saw it, then later under the sink in the bathroom.

This is the first time this has happened -- a shadow that was very obviously a being and yet you cannot decide if it was something harmful or something that once walked the Earth.

By now, the shadow is just about two metres away from your bed, yet you find yourself inching backwards because you cannot predict what it would (or could) do to you.

Then it lifts an arm that reaches out to you, darkness flowing like steam off its limbs as it gets closer to you. But just before it can touch you, a flash of brightness interrupts your interaction.

“Stop.”

Your room is brightly lit up for a split second, blinding you from seeing the shadow. So when your eyes come back into focus, your eyes are about to fall out of your skull when you recognise the back of someone you know.

Hyunjae was standing right next to your bed, between you and the shadow, now visibly a physical blob of darkness.

“You have no business here with her. You don’t even need to be here.”

Silence.

Hyunjae looks at the shadow intently. He is listening to it talk to him, but you hear nothing but the crickets chirping outside.

“Jang Jun Hyuk will be mine to deal with, not yours. You do not need to be here.”

Lee Hyunjae... just what are you?

“Seer but is she a...”

“What did you just say?” You blurt out when the strange croak gets to your head. Hyunjae flinches and turns around to look at you, eyes flickering with worry before turning back to the shadow.

Now, you can see blue orbs for eyes and skin pulled and stretched like it had been worn out through hundreds of years. It was neither a ghost nor human.

It didn’t look like Lee Eun or the elderly man you saw when you were 8, nor did it look like the female demon you saw at 13.

“Leave, you do not belong here.”

“To deserves she know.”

“Know what?” Impatience and fear was getting the better of you, and if Hyunjae was more than human, he would know. “...That I can see you?”

“No, she cannot know!” Hyunjae tries to block you from the ghoul. “That is not your place to tell her!”

The ghoul proves more powerful than Hyunjae and reaches right through him, creating a bright outline of his limb through Hyunjae’s chest.

“No!”

That was the last thing you hear just as the shadow touches your forehead, snapping your neck backwards and sending your memory into a dimension you cannot recognise.

“You will be blessed with eternal protection.”

That was the blessing the elderly man offered you when you were eight. Little did you know that he was merely reading a blessing pinned to your existence on its own.

"The son of Saint Michael had fallen in love with the fairy of the mortals. Saint Michael hadn’t offered the tiniest bit of worry or concern over his son becoming star-crossed lovers. Angels were meant to be with angels and fairies with fairies... Granted that even if you did know about his son’s feelings, you would eventually realise that it was against the laws of the world, for you were a gateway for the Good to seep into the mortal world. But what Saint Michael did not know was that the fairy his son had fallen in love with had stored the same amount of love he had for her in his heart.”

“The Heavens forbid star-crossed lovers between the two breeds of beings. Saint Michael himself couldn’t believe it when his son caved into his feelings right after you did. Fairies were fickle-minded; the only beings of the world of immortals that once walked the Earth as human beings. It was expected that you would provide the same love to the Archangel’s son -- but when he decided to embrace you in his all-gold halo of light... Saint Michael knew he could not afford losing the bearings of his son. He had decided that mortalising you would be a smart decision; keeping you close by letting you protect your ability to connect with this world but restraining you from ever returning to Hyunjae’s side.”

“Yet, like mortals, even immortal beings are unable to fight the strength of love. Hyunjae had decided descend to the world of the Humans and Mortals... to protect you by your side in your second life, allowing you to see him, touch him.”

The day you were reborn was the day Hyunjae had decided to humanise himself, albeit the process was draining and set him on a ticking clock from returning to the other world.

The ghoul looks at you, his blue eyes now revealing himself as a fairy who had disguised himself, in a bid to warn you before you had sold your heart to Hyunjae, something you cannot be with.

“You are paying the price for a fault that was his, do you not bear any resentment?”

The memories return. Flashes of Hyunjae smiling at you because he knew you could see him. The kisses that stained his skin because you were a mere mortal with abilities, and he was a being that was meant for more.

“How is this his fault?”

The fairy is silent, thinking of the words to say.

“Had he lived up to the responsibilities of being the son of Saint Michael, he wouldn’t have caved in.”

Your hair feels light around your shoulders, watching the fairy slowly morph into something less ambiguous.

“What would have happened if we didn’t fall in love in my first life?”

The fairy had grown wings that looks like glass, reflecting light into seven colors into the abyss beyond you. He looks at you, blue eyes never faltering.

“You would’ve become an Undine Fairy, and Hyunjae would’ve had to return to the world of the Skies--”

“And I would never see him again.”

He can see that you’ve had a glimpse into your past life; the forbidden love you had for Hyunjae now buried deep inside you. It feels like someone had just stuck a shovel 6 feet into your heart and dug out every remnant he could find.

“Would you have let him go, had he been true to his existence and you had become an Undine?”

“There’s no way I can answer that, can I?”

The fairy blinks and starts walking backwards. “The rules between the two Worlds are forged in stone, but everybody knows that the matters of the spirit and soul cannot be bound by tangible logic. Your choice depends on what you believe: will you choose to believe what you see or what you feel?”

The question echoes inside your head, and the world around you flashes brightly like you had just died and walked into heaven.

Your consciousness returns to current time, eyes fluttering open as your alarm clock rings you awake. Sitting opposite you, eyes closed as you watch him snoozing lightly despite sitting in a chair, you feel a pinch in your chest.

It’s not his fault, and never will be.

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