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syncrovoid-presents · 1 year ago

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Okay but consider, if we stretch eyes to include all eye-like organs and not just human-like eyes, then we must include pinhole eyes (eyespots and photoreceptors, to be more scientifically accurate).

Therefore, you must consider Giant Clams! These beautiful creatures have not one, not two, but several thousand eyes each, all along the edge of their outer mantles! Each eye spot is around .5mm wide, so imagine how many of those you could fit on the mantle of a 4 foot to 4.5 foot (average size of a giant clam, it depends on the species). Plus there are approximately 12 species and they can live upwards to 100 years old!

So! That means each giant clam adds a few hundred eyes to the eye count. If you count a clan's foot as a leg, each adds only one to the leg count. (Yep, that's right. Clams have one singular foot.)

Also underwater you can find Chitons. They are truly bizarre and outstanding creatures, and also have photosensitive eye-like structures, sometimes aesthetes and sometimes ocelli (possesses lenses). Guess how many of these eye-like structures a chiton has? Not one, not 100, but upwards to a thousand (or more depending on the species!) of eyes. Want to know something even cooler? Though there isn't solid proof, I must mention that there is a small theory that chitons can even regrow eyes if they lose them. Plus they have no real legs!

I think that balances out some of the leg counts from millipedes.

AND!! I AM NOT DONE!!

If you count compound eyes as singular, then yes a dragonfly or butterfly only adds 2 to the count. But if you count compound eyes as exactly that, a compounded group of eyes, then bugs add hundreds or thousands to the eye count!

Consider, a human eye has one lens, and each facet of a compound eye has one lens. Both are a single point where light or vision is achieved, so a compound eye would be like if a human face was covered in eyes. A bit like that anyways! But then multiply that to thousands, because bugs have so many eyes!

Dragonflies have up to 30 thousand facets/lenses, butterflies have up to 17 thousand. Mantis shrimp, who have some of the most impressive eyes, can have upwards to 12 thousand. And spiders? These lovely little creatures have single lens eyes, so they only have 8. But scorpions can have 12!

Now here is the most controversial take. If we consider eyes as structures that allow a living thing to see, regardless of how bad that vision is, we need to talk about plants.

Plants, you may ask? Well, dear reader, are you aware of the fact that plants can, in a rudimentary way, see? Plants have special structures called photoreceptors, not too different than some scaled creatures that have a specialized "third" eye, a photoreceptor organ that let's them detect light. For plants this let's them detect an array of wavelengths, allowing them to sense light. They "see" through the visible, far red and ultraviolet light spectrum, although their vision is quite different than a human's.

Plants can see you (though their vision is so poor they cannot see the difference between different humans), and they can also feel you, how silly!

But with plants it isn't as easy and counting how many photorexeptive structures they have, as it grows and changes as the plant does! But if we say every plant counts as one more eye (though it would be more accurate to say hundred, just think each tree leaf counts as an eye, how many leaves does a tree have? That's a lot of new eyes to count!).

Personally, I am on the side of the plants, so I will count them as having eyes (as should you, as should you! It is very rude to ignore those that can see you (this is silly, they don't actually watch, don't worry! @:P )

Also don't forget all the microscopic creatures that live on you, because each person is an entire ecosystem of their own! But the less mentioned the better. Protip to everyone, do not look up demodex eyes. One would expect I formation of the animal, but that is not the case. And for anyone with scopophobia don't research giant clam eyes)

SO!! There are many, many eyes in the world, so think again about this question. I, for one, voted for eyes, as I am a firm believer that there are more eyes than legs on this very planet. And another fun fact, technically the average human has less than 2 eyes, which means that you reading this, yes you. You quite likely have more eyes than the average human. Aren't statistics funny?

Please vote eyes

#reblog #polls #VOTE EYES!! DONT FALL FOR THE LEG PROPAGANDA!!#there are more eyes there are more eyes there are more eyes there are more eyes there are more eyes there are more eyes #tw unreality #<- maybe???? i think it is fun silly but just in case #plants are so fascinating as they can also vocalize but in a way no human could ever hear. it gets louder when a plant is hurt so #so like technically plants do scream when hurt #another reason to be against grass lawns! each time you are hirting living things that feel it!#<- depending on how human-focused someone is they may or may not care about that #i always found it so silly when people act like humans are better or separate than animals and the rest of the planet #but acting like humans are separate from the “natural” world is used as justification and “”reason“” to separate people and #treat the planet worse (i forgor how to explain but it is sad when you notice it)#it is unsurprisingly partially caused by collonialism. they thought themselves as “above” nature and therefore must conquer #that sort of mindset #a human centric view is such a sad one to live your entire life with. but that is just my opinion haha!

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empressofdiamonds · 3 years ago

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What to do when your friends constantly associate you/ remind you of your past self? Im beginning my level up journey, and my friends keep saying they miss the old me.

*Im inspired by your anon who asked u something similar*

The old me who:

- fucked random men

- got drunk every night and smoked weed everyday

- zero ambitions or goals and lack of morale in life

basically you can form conclusion on how i was

My ex bf and i dated and he really saved me from that, and they have basically blamed him for taking my "youth" away but thats not even what I wanted anyways! Like im gratedul he got me to see the light regardless of our outcome. But theyre convinced that im just some pick me who wants to still please him.

I wanna cut everyone off, but I have done that before and felt so alone and isolated. I just dont know what to do anymore. I feel like im stuck in a cage and I cant grow and be who I truly desire because everyone associated me with being a crazy party girl.

What if I told you fucking around, being drunk everyday, smoking weed excessively, no ambitions... Is actually part of pickmeness?

I perceive pickmeness as not only towards others, it's also towards oneself, it's terrible lack of self-esteem that makes one not do what is best for oneself.

That's low-key insulting that they think the new lifestyle you adopted is all his fault; you dumped him, you still don't wanna date him (aka you're not doing this process for him), you're still keeping the new lifestyle changes after the breakup. Like, the logic's not there! I see that you're actually doing a glow-up process and not some desperate pickme behaviour to gain him back like Friends are saying you are doing.

If you don't want to cut everyone off, how about you keep contact with the most grounded and best girls in that gang, and minimize contact with the worst ones?

Sadly reputations can stay a good while after the changes, but I think that you should keep going at it, the more stronger the change and the more consistent it is, the more likely your reputation is to change. Prove to everyone the Old Self is goddamn dead and buried 6 feet under in an welded iron casket. And with fresh concrete poured on top.

Keep being consistent with the new healthy habits, and make sure all facets of your life are to your new taste.

I may add another point... Sometimes the stuff people say is a reflection of their own thought processes. If someone is unhappy that you're doing the obvious healthy choice, it is because you're indirectly doing them one hell of an ass-whooping. You're indirectly telling them to get their sh*t together because it ain't cute.

Even, sometimes, the good answer is sometimes the most hurtful one. Aka dumping them all if this doesn't gets better. No choice, gotta suffer a little bit to improve. It's a battle in a war.

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pop-punklouis · 4 years ago

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Honestly, I get really confused when Larries always say H hates being sexualized. If you look at it from an objective point of view, it is very clear that H and his team are using a "sex sells" marketing strategy. He's not uncomfortable being sexualized because that it literally part of their promo plan. Sex attracts attention. Hshq is using sex in their marketing to create an effective and memorable campaign and it's working. He literally advertised the album as being about being sad & sex. 1/2

“He did nude photoshoots. His music videos for lights up and WS obviously rely on the sex angle. If he built his whole image on sex appeal, then why blame harries for sexualizing him? They are doing exactly what hshq wants them to do. Them thirsting over him makes them keep streaming and giving him views. People are hardwired to notice sexually relevant information so it’s smart of his team to use that to their advantage to keep him relevant. Everyone else can see it except for larries. 2/2 + Harry never said he was uncomfortable being sexualized. He doesn’t care because it helps his career and he loves the attention. He said he was uncomfortable thinking about being seen as a sex symbol because it’s a weird thing to think about yourself but he didn't say anything about being sexualized. Anyway, actions speak louder than words, and his PR is all about catering to to people’s sexual fantasies so I think he's more than okay with it”

I’m choosing to answer this because there is.... a lot to unpack here. To start, i’m incredibly sick of seeing people pretending that “sexuality,” and “sex appeal” are the same thing as “sexualization” especially when it refers to hypersexualization. it’s not and it never has been. you can find someone attractive and have that person perform sexuality, at any level, and still not display sexualization of this person. it’s not a complicated concept. there are many facets of harry’s life that has been built to fit a lothario image that does drive off the hyper-sexualization of him as an image and a person, but it goes beyond just his team using it for fan? engagement? the media has perpetuated it as well since he was 16 years old (a child). past “girlfriends” have perpetuated it when their relationships end. talk show hosts like ellen and james corden would consistently push this angle regardless of whether or not they were friends. red carpet reporters have asked these questions directly to his face. past models who have worked with him in any capacity have helped this narrative along by moaning his name and sexualizing him. ben winston has no problem feeding into it. there’s branches that split from the whole that has fed into this goliath image that has been sexualized for ten years of his life.

and you think...... he’s comfortable with that? you think he likes that he can stand next to any woman and be plagued with stories about fucking them? you think he thrives off the fact that every part of who he is and what his body looks like is constantly on parade when tied to this image? you think he doesn’t care that much of the GP and those in the industry think he’s incredibly easy and will sleep with anyone and anything so long as he gives them a smile? you think he thought it was funny when he was visibly uncomfortable having howard stern ask if he wanted to fuck his therapist because she was a woman? you think he enjoys the fact that he has to watch out who he’s around or even nice to because so many have gone to papers or online and fabricated stories about sex or relationships for clout attached to his name? you think it makes him laugh when people talk about his sex life and publications like GQ pushed him to tell them how many people he’s slept with as a 19 yr old? you don’t think he cares that he’s lost a lot of his youth and control of his image due to sexualizing tycoons?

you also confuse me with the points you made about him playing into a hypersexualized image. you use examples that are so highly misconstrued it feels detached in every way. he didn’t do nude photo shoots. he did one photoshoot that featured a nude and the nude was not in any way put on display as an act of sexual fodder. it was sensual. it was fragile. it was soft. it was a piece of art and seeing as how you didn’t see it that way only falls more on you than it does anyone else. you can be nude and do that without inviting in ideas of sexualization. nothing about that photo screams sex appeal. regarding the music videos..... congratulations, you missed the entire point again. the Lights Up music video was meant to depict his experience with fame and sexualization. those pulling at him from all angles represents everyone wanting a piece of him as he just wants to exist. how his career and life since he was 16 was built off never being his own— he’s always been “on display” for everyone else. he not once touched any of the models, and he ended up riding away from it all at the end of the video finally free. even when talking to radio hosts about the video he touched on how personal that song was to him. yet the media and fans alike drew it differently and labeled it a sex orgy lmao. and with WS..... it’s the media that first drew the hyped up sexual energy tied to that song. the blatant headlines about oral sex which then hyped up fans. yes, they used the video to display oral sex but nothing about that video was sexualized in a way that would’ve been expected. the ones that have a right to be upset about the WS video are wlw because of how it could go about sexualizing the WOMEN not harry.

so again, stop pretending like sexuality and sex appeal is anything like sexualization. it isn’t, and just because something or someone portrays him in a “sexy” light doesn’t mean it’s okay or even appropriate to sexualize or objectify him based on that. olympic swimmers can be pictured as sexy because of the tight clothing, built bodies, and athleticism but that doesn’t green light sexualization of them. antoni porowski can show off his body and pose sensually (even sexually) and that doesn’t mean it gives you the okay to objectify him and his body. i theorize a big reason why harry is often seen in baggier clothes now, beyond his fashion sense, is because without showing any discernible part of his body, it stops those from sexualizing him on his off time. so, has HSHQ used his already laden image and sexuality to push further into this sexualization? yes. has fans been conditioned to think of him sexually because of this ingrained narrative? of course. but does that mean we’re all lab rats being fed what they want and we have no say or conscious decision in the matter? no.

many artists use sexuality and sex appeal in their art and images. men, women, non-binary folk etc., etc. but that doesn’t mean they love being sexualized or have no qualms about it. take for example, halsey. she’s never been shy or against showing her sexuality and sensuality in her work, music, and persona. does that make it okay to objectify and sexualize her just because she does that? of course not. do you hear how you sound when you say these things? it’s very concerning. i’m sick of people wanting justifications for sexualizing artists— especially harry. if this was a woman, this argument for or against sexualization wouldn’t even exist. but since it’s harry it’s okay? i’m so tired of it.

#harry styles #sexualization

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sparklingpax · 3 years ago

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unoriginal idea maybe, but here's a detail from my Transformers: Transcendence AU, from a list I keep on some post-it notes in my room, which I spontaneously feel like (elaborating on and) sharing:

Before the war, Megatronus--then, unnamed, but for reading purposes, I'm referring to him by name--once found a book, left behind by spectators to the caves where he worked.

[Sorry for typos, I typed this on my phone last night and forgot to post--]

///

It must have been dropped in haste.

The tour group had, after all, bustled in, murmuring and pointing, then followed the supervisor as he made his way past this particular part of the mines, and they rushed after him. They had been here to see the different facets of a life they'd never dream to imagine living, yet were fascinated to witness first-hand.

The miner had exchanged glances with a fellow unnamed mech who happened to be slicing rocks beside him. It was the kind of look that seemed to wordlessly agree that in the world of the "unreachables" who bathed in loving daylight and fresh air, enough shanix could get you most anything--even a tour to the pits of society.

To where hundreds lived, worked, and died just as unnamed as Megatronus' friend beside him.

Just for the laughs, for the rewarding ability to claim having done something--you know the drill.

But what had caught his optics as he raised and dropped another strike to the rock was not the chance to steal a glance at what "the untouchables" of society looked like, but rather...a book.

A real, leather-bound book, lying lonely where the spectators had been, starkly contrasting the lifeless grey all around it.

It was a tiny story of words Megatronus knew breathed life of its own.

Two lives, perhaps, taking into account it had to have been written by someone.

He knew of books, he'd seen the supervisor reading one, and since then wanted one of his own, but...what world was he living in where you were at literal rock-bottom and could ask for a work of art to appreciate?

Nonetheless, there it lay, and no one seemed to notice it but him.

Or, perhaps they had, but all the same felt no inclination to go and bother with it.

He hoped no one saw him snatch it up and slip off down the dark halls of grit and stone. He knew his sector's supervisor was busy with showing the visitors around, and considering what he held in his grip, was well past this sector...so the coast was clear.

He headed down a familiar path he needed no light to guide him down, until he came upon a hollowed out section of the wall. This was where he came to rest if he was afforded one of the breaks miners were given every now and then.

Breaks of a five-to-seven-minute nature.

It was a place only he knew of--well, he hoped only he knew about it--and so it would be perfect to hide this book.

Carefully, he patted away some dust and slid it behind a crevice. Some part of him wished to disobey rules more than he was already, and at least look at the cover of it, to know the title...but he concluded this was far from a good idea.

So instead, he turned and hurried back to his station.

Of course, he knew he'd be lucky today, but he could only be so lucky--the supervisor wasn't stupid enough to leave his workers of sector A-D alone. Going back now meant he'd be back well in time for the gruff mech of authority to return and find nothing was amiss with his nameless workers.

Just as it was always.

Otherwise, everyone knew, their supervisor would risk losing to sector E-H's manager, and potentially be jailed for it.

To the higher-ups, problems weren't dealt with when it came to this place--they were jailed or killed; it didn't quite matter so much since most of those in the mines died eventually anyway.

And it benefitted no one to cause any sort of trouble.

So things usually remained as they were.

///

Such a break arrived one day, and Megatronus thanked Primus for it.

His body was battered, scratched and covered in all kinds of things that made his silver-burgundy plating to seem an interesting array of greys and black, with streaks of......flourescant purple, green, blue....were they harmful long-term? What substances had even caused such coloration?

Megatronus didn't care to offer it thought--who'd know that? Or care?

He trudged down the rocky halls, thinking of nothing at all but of the pain he felt all over, as if he was being crushed by the deadly metal-press their supervisor had threatened them all with on too many occasions to count.

At last, he came upon his hole in the rocks and practically fell into it.

The spiky rocks he laid upon jabbed him, but not too much, and it was more the relief of finally being allowed to sit for a couple minutes that he felt. He sighed quietly, tiredly, and felt his systems huff their own sigh.

Wearily, he watched a small cloud of steam float away and to the ceiling.

His helm tilted back as he lamented there was only about a minute or two left in his break, which would have been three or four had he not taken so long to get to his rest place--

And then he felt something sharp, but not as sharp as stone, against his head.

He turned to see the edge of a book sticking out of a place in the rock.

With a wave of energy, he remembered finding that book a while back, and his intent to read it! And well, what better time to at least learn the title of it than now?

His optics darted up and down the hall. There was no one there to see him. The muffled sounds of metal upon rock, drilling, and screaming in the distance was all the silence had to contend with as he carefully removed the book from its hiding place and opened it.

Megatronus was lucky to find Primus had seemingly graced him with an ability to read, and he briefly wondered how many others were also capable of such a feat.

But the thought evaporated into nothingness as he cast a concentrated eye over the title, scrawled in decorative, grey font.

Victory of Justice: A Tale of Deceit

Megatronus swallowed, knowing that he only had a couple of seconds to put it back and begin down the halls again to work, lest he be late and forbidden breaks until his spark itself died out, or--debatable if this was better or worse--sent to be smelted or crushed for materials on the spot.

But the title had almost immediately struck something in him.

Something deep, hidden away in the recesses of his processor.

His spark had seemed to jump upon registering what those words seemed to imply, and his intrigue of what lay waiting on the pages following was not a match fire, but as strong as that smelting pit further down the mines.

Victory...Justice....Deceit......

He began to think, silence seeming to further drown the noise of despair he was presently exempt of.

There was no perfect world, and therefore, all these idealistic concepts--of virtue, justice, deceit--were all just as such: ideals. For in practice of the life one lives, the waters became murky, and one never truly sees what is what until it's too late.

I must know, he thought resolutely, suddenly not feeling his body's pain as much.

The words to articulate what I've believed for all this time are in this book. The words I felt inside seeing the daylight for the last time before I entered these mines, or rather, for the last time until I've found a way out again...

He marched down the hall, something beginning to churn in the depths of his very being.

///

I must read them. This will be how I rise above. I will see the surface world and leave this place. It is my fate.

He found himself grinning, something he seldom ever did in the pits of despair which he had resided for all his life. Yet it couldn't be controlled. He widened it, feeling that fire surge within his spark.

It is my destiny! It...is my will.

#kuniwrites #megatronus #megatron #transformers #transformers: Transcendence #au #kuni does au things #writing #drabble #random #<3 #tf #maccadam #idea #transformers au

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ghostietea · 4 years ago

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On Tohru and Akito: a long overdue analysis

As some may know, Tohru Honda and Akito Sohma from the manga Fruits Basket are pretty much my all time favorite protagonist/antagonist pair. They just work incredibly well as thematic pieces and driving forces of the story in relation to eachother. And beyond even the surface level they have a rich and layered goldmine of parallels that make them fascinating to think about. While it may make many a newbie raise an eyebrow, I think this is a fact that is to some level pretty widely acknowledged in the fandom proper. However, there is another level of their relationship that is often mostly left out of analytical conversations about them and their parallels: their eventual friendship. Something which, partly due to screentime, is often somewhat simplified down and misinterpreted. Which I think is a shame because, when you look at it, their eleventh hour friendship is deeply interwoven with their parallels and the very thematics and ending of the story. So then, what’s really going on with the girls that stand as part of the thematic core of Furuba? Beyond (most of, true analytical objectivity is impossible in interpretation) my personal sentimental feelings, let’s talk Akito and Tohru: their parallels, relationship, and role in the story overal. Read more present, this is going to be a long one but I hope you stick around 😊

One facet of Akito and Tohru’s role in relationship to eachother that I think is both interesting and imperative to understanding their purpose is their nature as eachother’s foils, especially their parallels. See, the two girls are both opposite and the same. Takaya sets them up as foils before we even properly meet Akito, as you can see in these panels:

However, their foil relationship becomes a lot more intriguing once their similarities become more apparent later in the story. Just think about it: two girls with boy’s names whose fathers died when they were young, leaving them alone with their mothers, who both developed behavior that, according to the environment that they grew up in, would keep them from being abandoned. Akito, coming from the cultish Sohma clan where she was treated as a God to the point that she thinks she can do no wrong and has tied all of her self worth to the role, plays the part of a male ruler who must uphold tradition and keep the zodiac with her by any means. Akito is terrified of being abandoned, especially since she has no idea how to have relationships outside of the context of the bond, only exacerbated by the fact that Ren, one of the only people that openly questions her role, has constantly told her that she’s useless and will be abandoned. This is something that informs all of her (many, terrible) decisions and leads her to try desperately to keep the curse together, something which puts her in direct conflict with Tohru, who actually wants the curse broken in part so that she won’t be abandoned. Tohru may not be as obvious with her abandonment issues as miss screeches-at-people-not-to-leave-her, but they still inform a good deal of her character. Like Akito, she develops behavior around the time of her father’s passing to try to keep herself from being abandoned, mirroring her father’s proper speech because she was worried that she was losing Kyoko. But, as she grew older in her much warmer environment, Tohru turned to kindness instead of fear to capture others, maintaining a facade of extreme positivity, politeness, and determination so as to not bother anyone. And, while she hides it, Tohru just gets worse after losing her mother. She becomes dedicated to preserving her feelings about her mother as is, refusing to move on much as Akito also refuses to move on from the curse and what her father wanted. Then comes the beach house reveal, where Tohru learns that Akito plans to take away her new family, even locking up the one most precious to her. Tohru tells herself that she’s going to break the curse for the freedom of the zodiac and cat, but she is also, in a way, doing it to keep herself from being abandoned. Later this feeling changes to become more focused on preventing the loss of Kyo himself, something which Tohru doesn’t want to admit. Tohru is a truly good and kind person and does want to help, yes, but also some part of her is doing this to keep the ones she loves by her side, understandably as she is a teen that recently lost the person she revolved her whole life around. But it comes to a point that you have to realize: Akito and Tohru are both motivated by the same thing, they just present it in wildly different ways. I don’t think that I have to explain how exactly their behavior foils eachother, the more worldly and modern Tohru acting on radical kindness and acceptance and thinking she deserves nothing while the sheltered, traditional Akito uses manipulation and fear to get what she thinks she is entitled to. It’s very apparent, but just gets even spicier in the context of how similar they are. Another parallel is in Tohru’s mom picture vs Akito’s father box, both relics of their dead and favorite parent that they are extremely protective of and treat almost like it is their deceased parent. Early in the series Tohru is seen carrying around a photo of her mom which she talks to, something which seems pretty harmless, until we consider how terrified she is every time she thinks she’s lost it, even going as far as to refer to it as if it were her mother. Notably, it barely shows up in the second half of the series, as she reluctantly drifts away from her mom and towards Kyo. In this later part of the series, we are introduced to Akito’s box, which she (semi, it’s complicated) thinks contains her father’s soul. Akito’s box is shown in a much darker light, from how the reveal of what it us to her is framed to how cruelly she reacts when it’s being stolen. Akito’s box is to Tohru’s photo what their owners narratively are to eachother: a dark mirror.

Ok, and now for the reason that I think it was important to bring all these parallels up first: because as you cannot understand Tohru and Akito as enemies without understanding their differences, you cannot understand them as friends without knowing their similarities. While it is easy to write off Tohru reaching out to Akito as just another case of Tohru being Tohru, that does a disservice to the full picture. I’ve seen around in the fandom that a good deal of people seem to think Tohru trying to befriend her is just Tohru being overly kind and forgiving, and this is something I think ties back a bit to some early fandom misconceptions about Tohru. Bear with me for a second, this is going to be a bit of a tangent but it ties back. It’s died down some now, but in the early Furuba fandom it was very common to just think of Tohru as a pretty flat nice girl doormat character, which besides misogyny is probably partially the fault of the 01 anime, which cuts off before we get to see more of Tohru’s insecurities and tones down what we do see (also, in the case of the relationship I’m talking about, 01 ads in that God awful end confrontation that I despise for being everything that I’m about to argue the ACTUAL confrontation that I like is not). Manga Tohru is a very subtle character, she hides a lot of her feelings behind a perpetually happy front which doesn’t start to let slip until later. And, since it’s later on in the manga which went unadapted for years and is mixed in with a bunch of crazy stuff, I think Tohru’s quiet development is often somewhat overlooked. For example, early series Tohru is very well known for the speeches she gives to the zodiac when she first meets them, speeches that, importantly, always tie back to things that her mom said. Tohru’s worldview back then revolved completely around Kyoko, so it’s probably a bit of a thing that in the later story, when Tohru draws ever nearer to the realization that she must move on, she does not give her mom speeches anymore? As opposed to the early story, when it was pretty much back to back character intros, in the late story Tohru notably only gets to befriend two new Sohmas: Isuzu and Akito. Notably, she doesn’t quote her mom either time, these are both people that she can relate to on some of her more hidden issues, and she shows a more personal side of her emotions in her turning point confrontations with them than she did earlier. It is especially important to realize that, in her confrontation on the cliff, Tohru is deciding that she is willing to go against her mom. Early series Tohru was a front anyways, and is a different Tohru from the one that finally gets through to Akito. I was using it as an example, but the evolution of Tohru’s befriending confrontations will be important later. Furthermore, there is the perception of Tohru as a doormat. Listen, Tohru may be very kind and polite, but one of her defining characteristics is being very determined and strong willed when need be. This is something that is especially relevant to her interactions with Akito. From the first meeting outside the school, Tohru knows to be wary of Akito and even breaks politeness and shoves her when she senses that Akito is making Yuki uncomfortable. This sets up immediately that Tohru can and will stand up to Akito. This is driven in even farther at the beach house, when Tohru, after again physically getting between Akito and a zodiac, decides that she will directly go against all of the Sohma family’s centuries of tradition and Akito herself to break the curse. There’s even a cute moment when, upon remembering Akito telling her not to, Tohru just decides to meddle even harder. Tohru, while polite about it, does not like Akito and puts herself in direct opposition to her. Tohru does not originally want to be Akito’s friend, or to have anything to do with her. The cliff scene is not just Tohru befriending someone because she just is over forgiving and loves everyone (an argument can be made that she still goes to easy on Akito, but it’s in line with how the narrative treats her too so that’s another conversation), there was a specific reason both that she chose to try to get through to Akito and that it actually worked. Up until their big confrontation, Tohru still thinks of Akito as a threat, and while she has gotten more information that shakes up her view of Akito, she still doesn’t understand her well enough to see her as much more than an obstacle. Then Akito barges into her yard when she’s just been rejected, crying and confessing how terrified she is of being abandoned, of things changing, and Tohru just goes still, eyes wide in shock. And she realizes: her and Akito have been afraid of the same thing the whole time. This is when Tohru decides to try to reach out to her. Because Tohru, on a deep level, sees Akito because of their similarities. She calls Akito out on her insecurities, and Akito reacts badly, accusing Tohru of being “dirty” and trying to condescend. Tohru partially rebukes this, not trying to hold herself above Akito as pure and righteous, but instead confessing her own fears of abandonment and change in an attempt to empathize with Akito.

At this part of the story, Tohru is fully coming into the realization that, in order to live her life, she needs to stop clinging to this idea of an “unchanging” relationship with her mom, something that scares her quite a bit. She realizes that, while she saw the flaws in Akito’s “eternity” and tried to destroy it, she had not been as perceptive with herself, clinging to that same notion. Tohru is an incredibly repressed character, especially in regards to emotions she thinks of as “dirty,” and she is showing a remarkable amount of vulnerability in this scene. Another thing to note about Tohru is that she, in her immense repression, will often process her own issues through other people. We see this throughout the story, from her showing grief over her mom by crying for Momiji and his mom to her projecting her fear of losing Kyo onto Kureno and Arisa. So then, it’s quite something to consider that the last Sohma she befriends is the one most emblematic of the issues she keeps locked up tightest? That as she’s speaking to her she’s deciding to move forward from her own fears? In a way, could accepting Akito be a symbol of Tohru accepting what she thinks are the darker parts of herself? Akito is also coming to a realization about moving on, acknowledging that the zodiac curse is coming to an end and that everything she believes is a lie, and she is absolutely distraught about it. But Tohru, in a way that nobody else does, understands Akito, and wants Akito to be her friend. Not out of pity or reverence, but a desire for solidarity. And this is the very reason why Tohru was actually able to get through to Akito. As we see with Kureno before he gets stabbed and Momiji at the beach house and when his curse breaks, it’s not like people haven’t kindly tried to get through to her before.

Of course, the reason it worked for Tohru can also be partially chalked up to the fact that Akito herself has come a long ways in personal realizations to the point that there’s just some things she can’t deny anymore, but that’s not all. Akito tends to react very negatively to what she sees as condescension, she thinks people want to try to pick her apart and see how she ticks just so they can look down on her, so they can see her as lesser. She thinks Tohru is trying to condescend too at first, especially since she perceives Tohru as this holier than thou saint wannabe. Fascinatingly, Akito’s view of Tohru is incredibly similar to that early fandom idea of Tohru as an angelic mary sue, and she hates her for it. She thinks that Tohru is trying to be like this and is seen as such, and that she (Akito) is the only who can see that Tohru is wrong somehow.

But Tohru rejects this notion of a pure her that both the fandom and her early self tried to project, presenting herself as flawed and human and purposefully trying to not put herself on a pedestal above Akito. She makes it very clear that she’s not trying to condescend, she is the same way (well, sorta) and she gets it. Notably, after this point Akito doesn’t accuse her of looking down on her, instead freaking out temporarily because of how much Tohru called her out before venting about her fears to her. And, while, partially due to outside circumstances, it does take Akito a bit longer to accept her offer of friendship, she legitimately manages to get through to her very soon after this point. If Tohru had tried one of her early series mom speeches on Akito, or just tried to blindly accept her without understanding, it would not have worked. Akito would have just written it off or reacted badly and left it there. But because Tohru tried to befriend Akito out of understanding as an equal it actually worked. You can’t separate Akito and Tohru’s parallels and their eventual friendship because one aspect is integral to the other.

A connected aspect of their relationship that I see talked of very little but is actually a pretty strong undercurrent is that of equality and power. To explain this, we have to look at Akito for a bit. Throughout her life, pretty much everyone around Akito has either put her on a pedestal or looked down on her. This is something that not only greatly damaged the way she thinks of herself and others, but has given her an intensely hierarchical view of relationships. We even see this notion clearly take form for her in the black paint scene, where she decides that Yuki, who she’d previously seen as the same as her, has to be lesser or else she will become useless. From the moment Akito was born she was “God,” an existence above everyone else. Even her own father only seems to give her affection for being God, and when he dies and she takes his place as the head of the family she is just elevated even farther at an extremely young age. The only people (she thinks) she’s close to are the zodiac, and the curse itself puts an inherent power dynamic into that relationship that can only be overcome with its undoing. Akito clings to her power, to her rank in the hierarchy, all the while the very thing she desperately upholds has made her the real outsider. Akito, who does everything in the name of belonging, was always alone from the start. As Tohru points out, as long as she is above the group she cannot be a part of it.

Simultaneously, and almost contradictory to the pedestalization and power dynamic aspect, Akito is extensively coddled and pitied. A lot of the older adults around her treat her almost like a crotchety, spoiled child. A child who is coddled to the point of never being given any reprimand or instruction on just how to behave like a functional human being until things have gone far too far. Then you have cases like Kureno, who seems to still see Akito like a kid, pretty much just coddles her as a job, and only stays because he pities her. This leads to a strange dual sided dynamic in multiple cases, where Akito is seen as someone’s better and has more power but is also being looked down upon in a way too. Akito has never in her life been seen and treated as an equal, so it’s pretty important when it is made clear that Tohru tries to befriend her as an equal. After all this time, Tohru, an outsider that is not under Akito’s control, who can hold her ground in a challenge against her, is finally the one to meet her on the same level. There’s this page that I adore that symbolizes this idea really nicely. It opens on a panel of Akito sitting a distance away from the zodiac who are all having fun together, a motif we’ve already seen a few times, but this time Tohru sits down right next to her.

This page comes at a critical moment, when Tohru is offering her hand in friendship to Tohru, it’s Akito realization of what Tohru is trying to do. Later on, we get Akito narrating what this page was showing, which I think I just need to put in:

We also see a bit of their conversation after they reunite in the hospital later, where Tohru again denies that she is better than Akito. Now, I think both the Tokyopop and Yen Press translations of this scene are a bit weird, the Tokyopop version uses the word “pretty” (confusing) while the Yen Press uses “kind” (don’t think that’s the best word). However one time I saw like a Malaysian english release in the half price books that used “pretty on the inside” and I like that best so I’ll just pretend that’s it.

I think this scene is interesting because it could seem like they’re just talking about morality but that’s not it. This is, once again, Tohru pretty explicitly trying to stop the creation of any sort of hierarchy between her and Akito. It’s not about right or wrong, Tohru know very well that Akito’s done things wrong and actively worked to stop her, it’s about not wanting them to be put on some sort of different rank based on morality and Tohru understanding Akito enough to empathize with the fact that (wrong or no) Akito was really hurt by Tohru and they won’t get anywhere if they don’t acknowledge that. Furthermore, I’ve already talked a bit about it already, but I think the way that Tohru asserts that she gets what Akito’s feeling and thinks she herself is “dirty” during their confrontation is relevant here too. She is, again, presenting herself as someone on the same level who understands Akito and is not being nice out of pity. This then leads to the page I talked about before which is again, Akito realizing this! This is a huge moment for her, someone who has had all of her relationships messed up by inequality and has no idea how to have a normal relationship, who is having a breakdown because she thinks that because of this it’s too late for anyone to love her, to have someone who understands her and wants to meet her on the same level. Even if she tries to deny it and shift blame, at this point Akito has realized that the zodiac bond is not what she thought and that she has been acting horribly. The groundwork is already there for Akito to have a change of heart, especially considering that a lot of her horribleness stems from legitimate extreme ignorance and her obsession with the bond so once she’s snapped out of that… The main thing that’s holding her back past that is that she’s panicking and cannot see a way forward. So then when there’s someone who actually gets where she’s coming from instead of just tolerating her and is offering her the sort of friendship that she’s never gotten to have of course she’d go for it! Tohru Honda has proven Akito wrong in ever way and, in the end, she even proves her wrong on her greatest fear: that she can only be wanted because she’s God. Because of Akito’s specific issues, nothing could have been more powerful for her than someone coming to her as an equal. Again, the piece about why Tohru could get through to her. It just wouldn’t be the same if Tohru didn’t have a reason to want Akito around or if she somehow saw Akito as below her, the very core of their relationship is the destruction of hierarchies. From the beginning Tohru has been trying to destroy the hierarchy of the zodiac, and when it comes down to it she does not take Akito’s spot at the top, but decides to stand beside her and the zodiac instead. Early in the series we see Akito trying to have some power over Tohru through fear, but when the time comes and Akito is pretty much defeated Tohru does not take power as the victor, hoping that Akito joins her instead of being somehow defeated. And at the end of it all this works, and Akito dissolves the zodiac and with it most of her power and her godhood of her own accord.

Despite their relative lack of page time, Tohru and Akito’s relationship has always been something that I come back to. Sure, a lot of that is just sentiment as they meant a lot to me when I was younger, but I think there’s something there. They work amazingly as protagonist and antagonist, contrasting nicely and working as symbols of both sides of the thematic conflict. There’s a palpable tension to their early interactions that makes you both scared and interested to see what happens when these two inevitably have to go head to head. But then, as the story goes on, it seems more and more like they are a tragedy, so similar yet on different sides of the story, fated to have one of them stuck with an unhappy ending brought on by the other.

But, even as dark as it gets, that wouldn’t really be Fruits Basket, would it? In the end, Tohru and Akito’s similarities win out, not their differences. I think it would have been so easy to just make this a story where the sweet heroine “saves” the villain just because, but that is so blatantly not what’s going on. Tohru simply sees herself in Akito, she’s not trying to somehow fix her and nor should she have to, she just wants to be her friend. And then the two manage to overcome their driving fear of moving on, forging new bonds and inspired by their interaction with the other. It’s not like Tohru somehow fixes Akito’s problems, Akito has to do things herself and in fact independence is a big theme of her endgame arc. Tohru simply offered her friendship, and that was enough. There’s a distinction to be made between how Tohru inspires Akito and Tohru somehow “saving” her, because Akito very much has to learn to save herself in the end after a lifetime of pushing her issues onto others. And, as a side note, all this is sort of why it bugs me when people act like Tohru would be like a mom to Akito. First off, Tohru shouldn’t have to be the mom to everyone. And, kind as she is, Tohru is also not a Kureno, she sees and interacts with Akito in a completely different way and their relationships with Akito are one of the big points were Tohru and Kureno differ. Second off, Akito has spent her life coddled and clinging onto anything that she can hold onto as a resemblance of parental affection to a toxic degree. Part of her arc is that she needs to grow out of this, become more independent, and have more balanced relationships. Akito at this point does not want or need to make a mommy figure out of one of her peers, and doing so may in fact be regressive. Sure, she will definitely need a level of guidance going forward, but it would be more beneficial for her to learn from example and under more of a friendly, balanced context coming from multiple people, not one person holding her hand. For all the reasons I’ve gone over in this entire post, I think it is much more meaningful for Akito to have Tohru as what she was canonically presented as in text: someone who sees her as an equal. The whole point of their relationship is, again, the defiance of hierarchies, something which I think is often sorely overlooked even though it is very openly there in text. And that, in part, is why I think their relationship is so powerful to me. Beyond hero and villain, right or wrong, or any story roles, it’s about two girls finding solidarity and friendship on a very personal, human level. This is Akito for the first time being seen not as this distant, untouchable male deity or some pitiful being, but as a flawed, hurt human girl who is nonetheless capable of change and being loved. This is Tohru coming out of hiding, presenting her flawed, terrified human self to someone she saw as an enemy. Fruits basket is, in part, a story about friendship and defeating systems of power and abuse. Even in a messy third act that muddles its themes at times by weighing character endings too heavily on het romantic love, especially in regards to the women (Hello Rin, Machi, Uo, ect.), Tohru and Akito stand out as a friendship that is given a huge amount of narrative weight. It just feels nice that, in a story that often focused on the power of relationships between women only to ditch all that and focus primarily on their relationships with men, these two girls are one of the driving forces of the endgame. The curse didn’t get broken by romantic love, but by the friendships everyone made along the way, including Tohru and Akito. Tohru has gotten it to this point, and now Akito just needs to bring it to a close and finally end things. At the very beggining, before this all started, all the cat wanted was for the God was to move forward and live as a person among the humans, and, finally, a long time later that wish was granted. The tale of the zodiac gets its happy ending not by a villain being defeated, but by the power of friendship and solidarity between women.

#fruits basket #akito sohma #tohru honda #fruits basket spoilers #meta

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 4 years ago

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The Dark Team (part 6)

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Join the taglist in here (Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87)

“What did you fuck up?”, you heard Loki’s sharp whisper through the earbud, while you frantically searched through papers and papers and some more papers.

“I didn’t fuck up. I have the guy. I have information”, cleared Bucky. “Hey, DON’T MOVE”, he shouted at the kidnapped, cocking his gun. He cleared his throat before talking again. “Good and bad news”.

“Must be Christmas”, you said.

“No, Christmas is when you only have good news”, said Bucky.

“Not in my family. Generally, there was only bad news and food. Food was the good news”.

“I love how professional and focused on the mission you two are. Stark would be so proud”.

“Wait, I’m invested now. Tell me more about your family, y/n”.

“For the Norns, I don’t have much time. The information, Barnes”. You could hear Loki's footsteps resonate. According to plan, he should've been walking through a hall full of burocrats, so he was right; he did not have much time.

“Okay, so, I know who has the stick”.

“Good”.

“He’s dead”.

“Not so good”.

“Not really, no”.

“What do we do now?”.

An alarm on the building had set off and every door locked down, with a man on a speaker announcing the disappearance of an important object followed by an awfully accurate description of the three of you.

“We run, that’s what we do now”.

You didn’t have to say more. Bucky threw himself off the window before it finished closing. You looked around desperately, trying to find a way to free yourself from that office. Two security guards entered the room screaming for you to get on the floor, and instead you made an unstable wall with the desk and chairs, avoiding getting shot and giving you enough time to figure out some sort of weapon to take them down.

The watch was already used, the knives were useless if they had guns, you didn’t have a gun yourself (silly you), and the parachute was apparently not working anymore, so you couldn’t jump off the window like your teammates. Damn.

“By any chance”, you whispered through your microphone “could you tele…”, but Loki gave you no time to finish the sentence and teleported himself to the office, still in the shape of a security guard.

“My dearest friend”, he said to one of the shooters, opening his arms welcomingly, “how’s the family?”.

“What the fuck, Robert?” asked angrily one of the real guards. “How did you…”.

Loki kicked off his gun and touched his head with a halo of green lights, making him fall unconscious to the floor. He looked up and down at the second security guard and formed half a smile.

“And what about your wife? Is she well?”.

“You ain’t Robert, ain’t ya?”.

“Mmh, nah”.

You grabbed the second security guard from behind and made him trip, immobilizing his arms and legs, and held his own gun to his head. Loki watched you amused, and then transformed back into himself.

“Oh, there you are”, you greeted him. “Did Buck say anything about the walking dead?”.

“The… what?”.

“The man with the stick. If he’s dead, who activated the alarm? Someone has to have it”.

“He didn’t say anything else. Can’t you track it down?”.

“If I could, why would we have done all of this for?”.

“Point made”.

“I need to get back to our room, take some things off the checklist before going all in for a new plan”.

“Alri…”, he started saying, but his gaze fell back on the immobilized guard you were holding down. “What are you planning on doing with him? He saw our faces”.

“If you let me live I won’t talk about this at all”, he pleaded, face squished against the floor. “I have kids, please”.

“He’s lying, he has no kids”, he said with a neutral face, and you looked at him trying to tell him to communicate telepathically. Surprisingly, he understood. “What?”.

“I’m not killing him, what do we do?”.

“Just kill him, what’s all the fuss about?”. You looked at him horrorized and he rolled his eyes “alright, just threaten him enough”.

You let him go, still pointing the gun at him, and gestured to the door so he could leave. When he reached for the door knob, you shot twice at the wall, mere inches from his head, and he froze in place.

“Talk and I’ll find you”, you threatened.

“I won't say a word, I promise”.

You looked at Loki and he nodded, letting you know the man was telling the truth. You kept your eyes fixed on him while he ran away, terrified. Must be new, you thought. Loki grabbed your waist.

“What the Hell are you doing?”, you pushed him away.

“Teleporting us, as you asked”.

“You have to grab me to do that?”.

“I don’t have to. It’s so you get stability”.

“Oh. Give me a big bear hug, then. No, better, let’s cuddle” you spat with sarcasm. He sighed annoyed, massaging his temples.

“Fine. I’m not even touching you”.

As he teleported both of you, you felt your whole body tear its own cells apart and dissolve, and then regenerate them. Your head spinned like it never has, and something hit your head; but you weren’t sure if it was the floor, a wall or the roof, for your sense directions were nowhere to be found. You took a few seconds to compose yourself before opening your eyes once everything stopped moving. When you finally managed to realize where your head even was, your eyes met with Loki’s, who was holding back a smirk with his arms crossed.

“Reconsidering that cuddle next time, are you?”.

“That was… hilarious. Such a shame I missed the previous part to give me context, though”, said Bucky from the counter of the hotel room, munching on some chips. “Look, the tiny fridge had these. You were right, they’re actually great”.

“Yeah. Grab whatever, they’re on Stark’s”, you said, still with your head a bit fuzzed. Loki offered his hand to help you get up but you did it yourself. He sighed.

“How do you fit your clothes with that huge ego of yours?”.

“I don’t, I walk around naked”, you answered, opening the nearest laptop and starting to work on the checklist.

That night was like the last one. Dark, silent and with your head full on the work. Bucky was barely snoring, and Loki was sitting on his bed reading a book. Every once in a while you glanced up your work to look at how painfully beautiful he was. You hated every thought about it, of course, but you couldn’t deny his sight grew on you a bit. He was an asshole, of course. A parasite on your head. An inconvenience. A distraction, sometimes. But the warm light of the bed lamp and the shadows it formed on half of his face enhanced his features, almost like a sculpture, a piece of art.

While you thought of that you checked on his expressions, making sure he wasn’t listening to your highly embarrassing thoughts.

After a few hours, Bucky had already woken up and you were still spread on the floor, surrounded by the files and laptops from before. The light conversation had caught half the attention of the God, who was still reading peacefully. He seemed so calm you wondered what kept him up anyways.

“You think he still has it on him?”, asked Bucky, changing his shirt.

“I think it’s a possibility. I’m tracking his body down. Should be in the morgue by now, maybe they haven’t taken off his clothes yet. But if not, the security cameras would have recorded who took it from the body”.

“Groovy”.

"Oh my God, James".

"What?".

"What does groovy even mean?".

"You know... it's like saying cool beans".

"Coo... alright".

After a while, you collected all the data you needed for tomorrow. You were so exhausted your eyes were getting dry and blurry. Loki was still reading in that same place, not even fazed by the amount of hours that had happened. You got up to clean the dishes from the last meal, and he lifted his gaze up from the book.

“Wait”, he stopped you. With a wrist movement, the dishes got as clean as they could get and arranged on the shelf. You chuckled.

“I wish I had that ability”.

“Are you going to sleep now?”.

“A few hours”.

“Sleep here”, he said from his bed. You looked at Bucky��s; he fell asleep back again.

“You haven’t slept yet. I don’t want to occupy your bed”.

“I won’t, don’t worry”, you nodded, kind of worried he might pass out of tiredness in the middle of the mission. Why the hell was he not sleeping? “If it doesn’t bother you, I’d rather finish this book on here too”.

“I think there’s enough space”.

He moved and gave you space for half of the tiny bed, and you laid by his side with your arms crossed and a leg on top of the other. He went back to his book, and even though he was sitting and your sight couldn’t reach the pages, you were sure it was in Old Norse.

“What are you reading?”.

He didn’t answer right away. Doubtfully as in to share it with you or not, he then proceeded.

“Hamlet. It’s a translation in Old Norse from an author I adore. I’d say it’s an even better version than Shakespeare’s”.

You felt yourself about to smile. You tried not to, but you probably did. That was your favourite piece of literature of all times. You wondered how could that have gotten to Asgardian hands, and why would he (certainly a Midgardian hater) want to read Earth’s literature. You were so curious in that version. Was it really that good, that would be better than Shakespeare himself? Sadly, you didn’t even know how to say hello in that language.

“Do you like it so far?”.

“I’m re-reading it. Brings good memories”, he said with a subtle smile he had hoped you wouldn’t notice. But you did. Something in your chest warmed up a bit and you shook it off. No, no. Not feelings. Don’t confuse your physical attraction, don’t feed your touch starved soul. No. You had to repeat to yourself a couple of times. You were just very, very tired.

“Brings good memories to me too. I love this book”. You figured it was alright to open up a little. The situation was relaxed enough. He wasn’t snarky or avoidant. He looked… melancholic. Sad, even. Like a facet of himself he didn’t allow everyone to see.

You connected with that. Maybe you could even relate to him in some way. For years, you had a feeling of something not adding up quite right. A longing for something you couldn’t exactly pin up. Melancholy for a blank space.

But there you were, barely knew him for three days yet felt close enough. Not too much. Just a feeling. Just the traces of something that maybe happened in another life. But in this one, you would get the mission done and leave. So don’t get attached, you ordered yourself.

“It’s a really good version”.

“Wish I could read it but I don’t know Old Norse”, you said slower than you intended. Loki chuckled at your tiredness. Maybe you could push your curiosity a little further. What was the damage? That he could just say ‘piss off’ or something like that? “What good memories does it bring to you?”.

He sighed and muttered almost to himself “I used to read it to my beloved”.

You almost gasped, surprised he actually answered you. You didn’t ask for more. It was already a lot he had just trusted you with. He told you he had a beloved. You didn’t even know he had a lover, but of course he had. He was nearly a thousand years old; why wouldn’t he? Did he lose that lover, in past tense?

Curiosity grew bigger on you, but fear pushed you aback. But the questions floated around in your head as a lullaby. Your head started to weigh a little more on the pillow and everything happened slightly slower. Loki closed the book and left it resting on his lap. He whispered ��I feel you have questions”, and you denied it with your head. Your eyelids fell heavier than before.

“I’m mmnmnnhnm”, you managed to sort of say before getting knocked down by sleep. You heard his laughter, but nothing more after that.

#loki #loki of asgard #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki mcu #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x y/n #bucky barnes is an old man omg

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pika-ace · 3 years ago

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I FINALLY SAW THE IN THE HEIGHTS MOVIE

HOLY SHIT

HOLY FUCKING SHIT I JUST WITNESSED MANNA FROM THE FUCKING GODS

My skin is clear, my children are fed, and my crops are thriving and I have SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT IT

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT! Seriously, do not read if you want to see the movie, I want you to experience this emotional ride yourselves

- I don't really need to talk about the music because, as expected, it was top-notch. Everyone was great, great voices, god-tier dancing, just good shit all around

- Songs are cut and things are changed, but honestly, NOTHING was lost so there's no need to worry. For every story element they take away, they add SO MUCH MORE with the changes they made to make up for it. It's like ITH for the first time all over again :D

- First up, Usnavi. MY GOD ANTHONY RAMOS, I AM SO SORRY I'VE BEEN SLEEPING ON YOU FOR SO LONG! I never paid him any mind back in the day because his face was just plastered all over Lams stuff (UGGGGH) so seeing him doing his own thing SEPARATE from that? I WAS ONCE BLIND BUT NOW I SEE

- The whole beach story-telling thing was throwing me off the whole time. I remember how PETRIFIED everyone was when the trailers showed that, but I had faith that there was a point to it and I WAS RIGHT!! The SECOND Sonny pointed out that green crab he painted, it was like a slap in the face, and when Usnavi started his whole 'There goes my flight' part, my cousin and I silently fist pumped in pure joy

- Also, USNAVI👏AND👏VANESSA👏AS👏MARRIED👏BUSINESS👏PARTNERS👏FUCKING👏ALL👏MY👏YES (Why did none of us think of this before????)

- USNAVI AND VANESSA GETTING A CANONICAL DAUGHTER, FUCKING YES PLEASE, PUT THAT HAT ON HER HEAD

- Next, Nina. Just...OH her voice...so soft...so gentle...I could fall asleep to that shit...

- The extra details of her being discriminated against at Stanford, just...DAMN, that shit HURTED. Best Girl doesn't deserve that shit!!!

- And her deciding to go back after learned that Sonny wants to be like her but can't due to discrimination just...BEST GIRL

- Benny just...OOZED charm, man. It almost makes me sad that he and Nina didn't play as big a role in the movie as they did in the play compared to Usnavi and Vanessa. ALMOST.

- Speaking of, Vanessa got an expanded role, HELL TO THE FUCKING YES. (She got a last name change from Otilla Garcia to Morales, but hey, her last name was just a workshop thing anyway so it's JUST not-canon enough to make changing it acceptable)

- Vanessa being the one who decided on the mural thing and getting Pete and Sonny to help just...BEAUTIFUL. That's TRUE LOVE right there

- Lin as Piragua Guy and Chris Jackson as Mr. Softee; that was the funniest meta shit I've EVER seen.

- I?? Did not expect?? To come out of this LOVING Kevin Rosario??? Like, he was SO MUCH BETTER and less antagonistic??? And I LOVED IT??

- Seriously though, getting rid of his prejudice against Benny was THE MOST WELCOME CHANGE in this whole movie (to me at least). When those two were together in the dispatch during the Blackout and helping people, that was just *chef's kiss* That was the pseudo-father-son shit I have been CRAVING for those two!

- Blackout was much less scary and chaotic than we were led to believe in the stage play; a part of me was disappointed, but the way they made it with everyone taking it in stride made up for it. It was like 'Aw dammit, blackout! Welp, bust out the fireworks and the Bingo boards, we're gonna be in the dark for a while, you all know the drill.'

- Also, lights turning back on RIGHT after Carnival del Barrio? Nice touch 👌

- Pete was SO GOOD. Favorite scene:

Usnavi, with Sonny: You're out here; who's watching the store? *points to Pete who's booking it out of the store having stolen something*

Sonny: *runs after him* PETE NO, YOU CAN'T JUST DO THAT!!!

- Age gap still seems a bit ambiguous between Sonny and Pete, so until confirmation is given, this pairing is staying EXPLICITLY in the stage version tag on Ao3 XD

- PETE PROVIDING VANESSA WITH INSPIRATIONAL MATERIALS, THAT IS A FACET OF FRIENDSHIP I NEVER KNEW I WANTED

- Also, appreciate Usnavi being MUCH less antagonistic towards Pete, just treating him as an annoying kid that enjoys getting a rise out of him rather than a vandal that's a bad influence who Usnavi WILL call the cops on if pushed.

- Daniela and Carla were REALLY awesome together and I'm DOWN for them being a couple, even though Hollywood STILL decided to be cowards about it with no on-screen kiss or mention that they were girlfriends (come on guys, it's 2021, stop hiding the gays!!)

- Abuela. ABUELAAAAAAAA. NEED I SAY MORE????

Usnavi: I wanna take you and Sonny to DR

Abuela: I'm not leaving without Sonny

Me: MY QUEEN, YEEEEES

- When I saw her lying down during Blackout and staring at Usnavi and Sonny and then started transitioning into Paciencia y Fe, my writer brain IMMEDIATELY began putting those metaphor pieces together and was like 'No...no no no no NO, don't you do this to me, DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE DO THIS TO ME-'

- Alabanza had me sobbing; no comment.

- The lotto money twist was SO GOOD??? Like, my cousin and I were VERY concerned when it wasn't brought up AT ALL, but then when it turns out she saved the ticket to give to Usnavi as a final gift after her death just...TEARS EVERYWHERE

- And last but not least...Sonny. Sonny Sonny Sonny Sonny SONNYYYYYYYYYYY! My son, my child, the light of my life, the stars in my sky, was given justice on this day!!!

- HE HAS A DAD!! IT'S A SHITTY DAD BUT HE HAS A PLACE TO LIVE!!! IT'S BETTER THAN WHAT WE HAD BEFORE AND I THANK BASED LMM FOR GIVING MY BOY THE BACKSTORY HE DESERVED!! (Fanfic writers, I expect MOUNTAINS of angst and hurt/comfort from you all with this new material!)

- RIP Smol Sonny, but that baby face of his MORE than made up for it :3c

- Usnavi WANTING to take Sonny to DR right off the bat, just...THANK YOU. That was DESPERATELY NEEDED and was even wrapped up early and neatly with Sonny saying to Usnavi 'Nah, I grew up here in NY, I have no memories of DR but YOU do, so if you wanna go, then go, I like it here.' and since he HAS A FUCKING HOME here, the worry for his well-being is GONE and it feels GOOD.

- Learning Sonny was undocumented was a PUNCH IN THE FUCKING HEART! My mind IMMEDIATELY reminded me when his dad asked Usnavi why he only paid Sonny in cash and the FACE HE MADE when Nina said that undocumented kids can't get in college just BABY NOOOOOOOOOO

- Usnavi. Using. The goddamn lotto money. TO GET SONNY DOCUMENTED. MY DE LA VEGA COUSIN LOVING HEART HAS FUCKING ASCENDED AND IS NEVER COMING BACK DOWN. DADNAVI SUPREMACY.

Do I have ANY gripes with this movie? Yes, I do.

THEY FUCKING KILLED CAMILA. I DO NOT APPRECIATE BEST MOM GETTING THE DISNEY TREATMENT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH >:/

Other than that though, this movie is a 10/10, go see it. Right now. I mean it.

#in the heights movie #in the heights 2021 #sonny de la vega #usnavi de la vega #in the heights

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breaking-shadows · 4 years ago

Text

Elain’s POV

Silence reigned at last. Elain had waited for the raucous laughter to die down, for the evidence of her sisters’ joy to fade along with the faelights.

Her plan was simple, to leave Azriel’s gift subtly and unnoticed amongst his pile of presents.

Her heart drummed in her chest as she rose and went to the door, twisting the ornate handle before stepping out into the darkness. Out in the hall, shadows swarmed, cloaking her but she was not afraid. The Elain of old would have been, would have rushed back to the light and the heat of her room. Her family tended to forget though, or perhaps they had never seen at all. The Elain who had gone into the Cauldron had not been the one who had come out.

She padded with soft steps under the stairway arch and then stalled, her breath catching in her throat.

There he was.

The sight of him called and the thrumming of her blood answered. He looked tired, as if sleep had eluded him for weeks, not that it detracted from his beauty in anyway. Whenever anyone described Azriel, they all used the same band of words, semantics carved out of the very block of ice they said made him. The knife in the dark, Feyre had once said.

It was not what Elain saw. Where others witnessed an icy exterior and distanced aloofness, she saw a guarded vulnerability, a wonton need for light and warmth and space. Every inch of him begged to be kissed. Kissed to be told he was worthy. Kissed to be told he was loved. Kissed to be told he was enough.

She shuddered.

He was more than enough.

There was a tug somewhere deep down.

He was everything.

“I…” His eyes were on her throat, the small gift trembling in her hands. “I was coming to leave this on your pile of presents. I forgot to give it to you earlier.”

Azriel, the High Lord’s Shadowsinger, was as guarded as the secrets behind her own lips, but his eyes sparked at her lie, beautiful hands twitching as though his first instinct was to grab Truth-teller and wheedle out the fiction.

What he didn’t know was that it wouldn’t take much for him to learn her truth, every scrap of it. Him and only him.

Elain closed the space between them, breath quickening but stopped a foot away. Too close and the scent of him would overwhelm her senses and they’d been so careful, a brush of fingers, and a few exchanged glances, but never anything more.

“Here,” she wished she could control her trembling, so he didn’t see. But then that was the tether between her and the beautiful Illyrian, the thing that connected them. Despite the Cauldron gifting her the power of sight, it was always him who’d seen her, only him who’d ever seen her.

Tentatively, he took the gift, staring explicitly at the box in his hands. It wasn’t much. The only intention was to replicate last year when she’d asked Madja to concoct a powder for his headaches. Elain had never seen him use the gift, but that didn’t matter at all when he’d laughed in such a way it felt as if it had come from deep within her own chest. It was the sound of cool rain in the height of summer, the one that made you forget yourself and want to dance barefoot.

Elain watched as he unwrapped the box, glancing at the note she’d scribbled there. You might find these useful at the House these days. Then he popped open the lid. Two small, bean-shaped objects lay within crafted from fabric.

“You put them in your ears, and they block out any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you…” she murmured, stopping only when a chuckle filled the foyer.

“No wonder you didn’t want me to open it in front of everyone.”

They both knew that wasn’t the only reason, but Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Nesta wouldn’t appreciate the joke.”

He offered her a smile back. “I wasn’t sure I should give you your present.”

Elain winced as Azriel left the rest unspoken. The Fae and their mating bonds. It meant nothing to her, never would. For the rest of her immortal life, Elain would belong to no-one, but her heart, her precious heart would be given to someone she chose. It made her heart skip when she thought of it. What could be greater then to defy fate itself for the one you love?

Azriel pulled the velvet box from the shadows behind him and opened it for her. She sucked in a soft breath, his shadows skittering back at the sound. They’d always been prone to vanish when she was around, the shadows which formed in the absence of light.

The golden necklace was lovely, and at the end, a tiny amulet with a flat rose fashioned of stained glass.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white.

Azriel let his shadows whisk the box away.

“Put it on me?” she asked, softly.

He went still for a moment, but she barely gave him chance to breathe as she lifted her unbound hair out of the way, exposing her graceful neck.

The world as she knew it vanished. It was as if Azriel’s shadows had swirled around them, protecting, and blocked out all else. Elain was aware of every glancing brush on her neck, her throat, as he slid the necklace across her skin. She shivered in response, silently begging him to do more. As she’d done many nights in her own bed when she imagined her hand was his.

Heat rose in her cheeks at the thought.

Slowly, she pivoted into his touch, until his palm lay flat against her neck. She fought to calm her breathing, to keep control. It had never gone this far.

Something changed in his scent, not that she knew what it meant.

And yet he still didn’t move.

Elain bit her lower lip. “I should go.” Her feet didn’t budge.

“Yes,” Azriel agreed, his thumb sweeping in long strokes along the side of her throat, his eyes becoming heavy-lidded.

She drifted closer, tilting her chin to look at him.

There was a glance to his hand, a dulling in his eyes. For a brief moment, Elain expected him to pull his hand away. He hated them and what he did with them, believed that she didn’t know the unspeakable things he’d done. But she did. Elain saw everything he was and…understood. After all, it was Elain herself who had gotten her own hands dirty when she ended Hybern’s life, ramming Truth-teller into his neck until the blood had spilled out, staining her skin rose-red.

She saw him, and the decision he now contemplated.

One moment.

A taste.

“Yes,” she breathed in answer.

Azriel’s hands slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain’s lips parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before flickering shut.

She heard a groan lodge in his throat, felt his head lowering towards hers. She waited for the heat of his lips against hers, eager to learn the taste of him.

But it never came.

His hand was out of her hair, and he stepped back. “This was a mistake.”

Hurt swam the length of her veins, flooding her. Drowning her. How could she ever think… “I’m sorry.” She almost couldn’t get the words out.

“You don’t – Don’t apologise,” he seemed to struggle forming his own, a bleakness darker than any shadow crossing his face. “Never apologise. It’s I who should…” he shook his head. “Goodnight.”

Before she could say anything, he’d winnowed into the shadows.

What a fool she was. Alone in the foyer in a house of love.

Fighting the tears that threatened to come, Elain forced one foot in front of the other. She would not stay. She would not cry.

Leave it.

The necklace grazed her skin. Her hand went to the rose, curling around it as if to protect it somehow.

You don’t need it, or him. You only need me, come to me.

“Why don’t you leave me alone?”

You sought me first, seer. You gave me a taste and now I want my fill. Leave the necklace.

Elain hastily unfastened the chain. She’d wanted to keep it next to her chest, but now the sight of the glass rose wrenched her heart. It was wrong to return a gift, but she didn’t want Azriel to feel obligated by it. So, she lay it on his pile of gifts, a thing of secret, lovely beauty.

Now, don’t you feel better?

Elain hurried upstairs and it was only when she was in her room with door closed firmly behind her that she dared answer the voice back. They had grown worse since she’d first glimpsed the onyx box. Months had passed with nothing and now they were as frequent as the northern wind.

“I’m going to kill you,” she whispered into nothingness.

Laughter came back in reply. Enough of this nonsense. Human born, Fae-made. You are no match for me. I know no death; I am a god, and you will bow.

“They’re all wrong. You are wrong,” Elain said, her voice slicing through the air like steel. “I am the one who rips diseased roots from the earth. I am the Kingslayer. I am the knife in the dark,” and with those words, the deathless god replied no more. She went to her bed and from under her pillow drew out a dagger. It was all silver, the hilt twisted into a spiral of metal rose vines. Elain turned it from side to side, watching it glint in the golden lights. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

#elriel #elain's pov #elain #elain archeron #azriel #azriel chapter #elain x azriel #sjm #acosf #acosf spoilers #acotar #azriel x elain #sarah j maas #elain and azriel

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years ago

Text

Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

You were anxious, but you couldn’t describe exactly why. Was it as narrowed down to Ran and Yixing simply interacting? The two worlds colliding? Or was it as broad as the fact that Yixing was stepping into your apartment?

The place wasn’t dirty. Both you and Ran were diligent on keeping on top of the dishes and dusting. You weren’t necessarily the “make your bed everyday” type, but it wasn’t too much of a jumble of sheets. There were no leftovers out on the counter or crusted plates in the sink. The air smelled of artificial citrus thanks to the plug-in that Ran kept up with on a steady rotation.

Ran ushered everyone in and then closed the door with no concern of a noise level. “Pizza should be here any minute.” The only responses she received were silent nods.

It was awkward as the three of you stood around, no one talking, no one moving towards the available seating in the living room. Ran often brought friends over and they naturally made themselves at home. Whenever Victoria or Amber were in town, you met up with them at coffee shops or restaurants serving brunch. Your apartment was not a typical place to congregate. It was your sanctuary, the place you went to in order to get away. Now the outside world was coming in and you weren’t sure what to do.

“Yixing, you want a drink?” Ran offered.

He nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

Ran shot you a very pointed look before whisking off to the kitchen. Yixing’s eyes roamed over the mostly empty walls. Neither you nor Ran were good with tools so ramming a nail into plaster didn’t seem like a logical way to spend an afternoon. Any decorating done to give the apartment a homey feel was done on the side and coffee tables. Ran’s novels were stacked in with your medical textbooks for easy reaching. Picture frames containing silly faces and fond memories sat on top of the wooden surfaces. Your favorite was the one of you and your aunt mid laugh, soaking wet from the water ride that had splashed from behind. Wherever you went, that picture went too. Yixing found it after a few seconds, walking over to it like in a trance. He picked up the cheap, plastic black frame with a gentle hand. A dimple made an appearance in his right cheek as he studied the photo.

“You look like you had fun.”

A small laugh pushed out as the memories of that trip flashed through your mind like a PowerPoint. Lost chargers, multiple changes of clothes from water rides and dropped ice creams, and dozens of wrong turns to get to the right ride. Neither you nor your aunt were good at working the app made for the amusement park, but that only added to the adventure.

“We did,” you replied. “That was right before my freshman year here. One last hurrah before moving on to adulthood.” That was what your aunt had said, anyway, though both of you knew she meant it sarcastically. She didn’t believe in full adulthood. A little bit of childishness was necessary to live life to the fullest – a concept that you couldn’t quite fully understand in words but could when you were looking at her. Yixing nodded, the smile growing by a few centimeters as he set the frame down again. Ran entered from the kitchen and handed him a steaming mug of fresh tea. You nearly hid your face in your shirt when you noticed which cup Ran had chosen or the gesture of a gracious host.

Little chibi figures depicting characters from your favorite drama danced around the porcelain mug. It was cute in your eyes when you’d ordered it from the online shop. Now, it was mortifying. You just hoped that Yixing assumed that it was Ran’s and that Ran didn’t mention anything to the contrary.

“Thank you.” Yixing blew on the steam that danced from the caramel colored liquid and took a sip small enough for a mouse. Still, no one sat. Ran glanced at you with a curious expression. If she was telling you to do something, you weren’t able to pick up on what that thing might be. Miraculously, you were saved by the door knock.

Ran shuffled over to the door to answer it. Yixing leaned down and placed the mug on the coffee table and that’s when it hit you.

He still wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Grabbing his wrist, you pulled him into your bedroom while Ran was distracted with the delivery guy. You let go of Yixing and started rifling through your closet for a more unisex shirt.

“What’s wrong?” Yixing asked right behind you.

You jumped at his sudden closeness but didn’t look behind you. “You’re still just wearing the jacket. When Ran notices, she’ll start asking questions.” Your fingers landed on an old band t-shirt that you hadn’t worn in a while. The black was a neutral color and most of the wording was faded. You doubt Ran would recognize it. “Here. Put this on.”

Seemingly laughing at you in his head, Yixing smiled and unzipped his jacket.

The first time you’d seen him shirtless, you were too distracted by the hiker to take real notice. Now that he was the only one around and standing in your bedroom… heat exploded all over your body. And the jerk seemed to notice as he took his time to take off the jacket and push his head through the shirt. You scurried around him and poked your head out of your room just in time to see Ran hand over the tip, closing the door with the pizza boxes in hand.

“Smells good,” Yixing commented as he snuck up behind you once again. He really needed to stop doing that.

“And its still warm, too,” Ran cooed, having heard him. She took a long whiff. You couldn’t help but take one, too. Delicious. Your mouth was already swimming when you sat down at the table. You didn’t even remember telling your feet to move. Ran grabbed plates from the cabinet before flipping open the lids, engulfing the apartment with that familiar scent. “Bon appetite!”

“Thank you for dinner,” Yixing said again. He was always so polite. It was endearing. So much so that you had paused midbite and started staring at him with a grin of your own pulling at your lips’ corners.

Ran chewed through a mouthful before answering. “No problem. You just have really good timing.”

A silence that you couldn’t quite call comfortable settled over the meal. You thought over and over of what you could say to continue a conversation, but all options fell flat. The consequence of that? Ran jumping in.

“So, Yixing, how do you know (y/n)?”

“We have class together,” he explained, not bothered at all by the questionnaire he was about to receive. Or he was simply unaware that this might only be the beginning.

“Which one?”

“Human physiology.”

Ran’s eyebrows shot up. “The one that just combined? So, did you have the other professor?”

Yixing nodded solemnly. “I did.” Though there were still several bites left of his current slice, he put it down and folded his fingers with his elbows resting on the table. “She was a good teacher.”

“That’s what I heard a lot,” Ran agreed. “It’s scary what’s going on. You never know who’s going to be next. I heard that there might have been another attack today.”

You looked at Yixing thinking that he would do the same given your shared knowledge that there was indeed another attack, but he didn’t turn his head in the slightest. He kept staring at the table. You knew this was bothering him. It was written in every facet of his posture and face. But Ran didn’t seem to notice.

“I think they should send the rangers out and put down the animal. I mean, I hate to kill anything that is just living its life, but there’s obviously something wrong with it. Like it went mad or something. Putting it out of its misery might be—”

“Ran, do you have plans tonight?” you jumped in.

Ran blinked as her mind quickly changed gears. “Yeah. Hae In is picking me up in a few minutes and we’re going to go out. You two are welcome to join us.”

“That’s okay,” you answered for both of you. “Thanks, though.”

Ran grinned cheekily. “I kind of figured.”

A quick succession of knocks rattled from the front door. Ran leapt up and ushered her friend inside.

Hae In, a girl whose personality was as bright as her blonde hair, waved excitedly at you and Yixing. “Hey! Ooo, that looks good!” She was quickly distracted by the pizza, grabbing a slice as soon as Ran gave her the okay. She swallowed down a few bites. “I’m Hae In, by the way,” she said to Yixing. “Are you (y/n)’s friend?”

“Yes, I am,” he said, a bit his previous light coming back. “I’m Yixing.” Standing up, he held out his hand for her to take.

“Nice to meet you,” Hae In shook his hand after wiping the grease off on an unused napkin.

“We should probably get going,” Ran suggested. “You know Marnie will take forever and we want to get there before they start charging covers.”

“No kidding,” Hae In giggled. She waved goodbye and followed Ran out the door.

Yixing turned to you. “They seemed nice.”

“They are,” you nodded as you stood to your feet and started clearing the table of the dirty dishes. Yixing was soon on his own feet, helping by moving all the leftover pizza into one box and then closing the lid so it could fit in the fridge. You rinsed off the plates, the water plashing all over the counter. After a quick clean up, you put the plates in the dishwasher. Yixing had moved on to the living room. He was seated on the couch, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his thighs and looking deep in thought. You sat down beside him. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he said none-too-convincingly. He sat up so he was now sitting back into the couch. “I’m okay. It’s just been… a day.”

You snorted. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

He didn’t respond to what you had said. He changed the subject in a sharp turn. “This shirt’s comfortable.”

You frowned, confused. “Yeah, its old so its been washed a few times. But it was soft like that when I bought it.” What were you even saying? Why were the two of you talking about your shirt? Honestly, you wanted to forget for a second that he was wearing your clothes at all. Because then you mind drifted to what was underneath the cloth.

“I think I’ve heard of this band,” Yixing said as he tugged on the front where the members were proudly displayed in a tough-guy fashion. There were a few breaks in the plastic-y photo that split some of the faces at odd angles. “They’re a pop group, right?”

You cleared your throat as you shifted in your seat. “Yeah. I guess you could call them that.” Why were you suddenly dying of humiliation? Why should you have any anxiety over what music you liked? One fear might have been that he was one of those people who looked down on others for liking such “shallow music.” You never thought the group in that way. If the vocals were good, who cared if the songs were mostly about love? “I like them anyway.”

To your surprise, Yixing was smiling. “I like them, too.”

In your heart, you were sure he was saying something else. Implying someone else that he really liked.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Because… well, you were realizing that you liked him. Very much. More than a friend. You liked Yixing. And you wanted him to like you, too. While you weren’t a mind reader, you thought that maybe there was a chance that he already did.

Going with the second thought that popped into your head, you looked at him shyly. “Thanks for coming along when you did, by the way. I don’t think I would have been to get him help in time if you hadn’t.”

Instead of returning your soft expression, Yixing remained stoic. He reached out and touched your cheek with the tips of his fingers. They were warm against your skin – No, not warm. Even with the minimal contact, you could feel the fire. It felt like a constant wave of sunshine pulsing into your skin. By sheer instinct, you leaned in deeper to his touch. That was encouragement enough for him to shift so now his palm was against your cheek. The reaction to pull away coursed in your mind, but you couldn’t bring it to fruition. If it had been anyone else, you would have been up and off that couch, putting plenty of room between you and them. But with Yixing… you simply wanted to move closer.

And someone did.

You weren’t sure if it was you or him – your money would have been on a mutual understanding, an equal pull that shifted both of you like magnets. But there was no gnashing of teeth or crumpling of shirts. It was a softer collision. A hesitant one. Your hands dug into the cushion to force you not to move as his lips brushed against yours. When he pressed more, his other hand came up and pulled you in closer by your hip. You didn’t resist, encompassing the space that was his lap.

That fire – that heat and warmth like a log alite on a winter’s day – was everywhere now. But just as it was growing, it was also drifting farther back in your mind. Yixing’s presence, his touch, was consuming your thoughts. You were not the kind of person who did this. You shied away from intimate moments like this. The weeks you had known Yixing were short, but that felt like a detail of little consequence. You believed yourself safe in his embrace.

The kiss ended abruptly. With hands that were simultaneously harsh and gentle, Yixing removed you from his lap, placing you on the cushion beside him. He gave no explanation for his sudden switch in direction. You weren’t sure what for, but the urge to apologize was swelling up, like you were the only one who had crossed a line.

“I’m… sorry.”

Yixing rubbed his eyes, releasing a sigh. “No. Don’t be. I just… I need to figure some things out first.”

“Some… things?” Was he… already seeing someone else? That’s what that usually meant, right? In all this time, he had never mentioned having a girlfriend. He wouldn’t have let you borrow his jacket if there was a chance that another girl might see it. Unless— unless she didn’t go to the university in town and they were in a long-distance relationship? The more you thought about it, the more your stomach was beginning to churn.

“I know that’s— What I mean is—” With another heavy sigh and a shake of his head, he stood to his feet. Not looking at you, he concluded, “I should… probably go.”

You were in state of confusion and sadness as he hurried out the door. Your eyes stayed trained on the last space that he had occupied. This was exactly why you didn’t do things like this. No moment of bliss was worth the terrible heartache that was always doomed to follow. Bringing your feet up on the couch, you made yourself as small as possible. Minutes went by. You weren’t sure why you didn’t move. Was there some stupid part of you that was waiting for him to come back through the door? Things like that only happened in the movies or a teen novel. As if to prove yourself wrong for why you were still in that spot, you peeled yourself up and walked into your room.

Laying there on your bed, folded like a store window display, was the jacket. Divided more than ever, you continued to stand in your doorway and stare at the last remaining evidence of Yixing’s presence.

As soon as he was outside, Yixing whirled and threw his fist into the grimy brick. Shaking out the pain, he cursed at himself under his breath. Stupid. He didn’t lash out like this. It wasn’t the right way to work out his anger. Even if it was towards himself.

The wolf both cheered at the line he’d crossed and whined at the sudden retreat. Part of him knew what the outcome would be once Ran left the apartment. The right thing to do would have been to say goodbye immediately and leave. But he had you to himself and to a wolf with his mate, that was a drug that couldn’t be discarded. So, he sat down on that couch, waiting for you to join. Sitting so close, Yixing’s muscles had tightened from the restraint. And then he snapped.

The scent rolling from you was too great to resist. Besides, you were leaning in, too. You were wanting it, too. Lips so soft as they kissed him back. Minseok had been right; it was like heaven on earth.

Then his mind pulled him back to hell.

A hiker had been attacked right around the time that he had blacked out. Again. And this time, they’d lived to describe the animal that had charged on him. A gray wolf. The same color as his own fur.

He fought against the thought that it might have been him. He held on tight to the chance that it was coincidence. But if it wasn’t… he couldn’t risk you getting hurt. If he did something to cause you harm… he’d never be able to forgive himself. He needed to get a handle on this, and fast. He just hoped that you didn’t hate him for the stunt he pulled back there.

In his pocket, his phone rang. Thankful for the distraction, he pulled it out and then the gratitude scrambled away.

It was Junmyeon.

Already knowing what this call would be about, he answered it. “Hello?”

“Yixing? Where are you? I need to come back to the house for a family meeting.”

He didn’t even bother to pretend to not understand. He didn’t ask for the reason to cover his current state of mind. “Okay. I’m in town, so it’ll take me about an hour to get home.”

“We’ll wait for you.”

Exhaling as his thumb hit the red button on his phone, Yixing pushed off the wall of the building and hopped into his car. A back and forth debate carried on as he drove down the backroad. Would he tell his pack what was going on and risk being ostracized? Or did he try to do this on his own and risk everything?

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platypanthewriter · 4 years ago

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Road Trip

Maybe call this your royalty/road trip prompt, @awickedplacethisis, it’s much shorter! Harringrove April prompt day 14, Road Trip

Once upon a time, in Westfield Indiana—not far from Indianapolis—there was a very, very large mansion, almost a castle, where there lived a family named Harrington.

There were servants inside the mansion, and servants outside the mansion; caddies to attend the golf course, and six crews of gardeners: two for around the reflecting pools, the rest for the grounds, and a tree surgeon on retainer. There were specialists for the indoor tennis courts, and the outdoor tennis courts, the outdoor swimming pool, and the indoor swimming pool.

And over the garage there lived a chauffeur by the name of Hargrove, imported from England years ago—together with a Rolls Royce—and a son, named William, or Billy.

It was a different world, for Billy Hargrove, watching the Harringtons through the bushes, or getting out of his father’s car—little Stevie Harrington wore suits, and rode horses, and sometimes, when his parents were on holiday, little Stevie Harrington would invite Billy to play.

Steve was a general, in these games, or sometimes the president, and Billy was, as ever, whatever was required, whether that was a dragon, or a magic steed, or a princess. When Steve’s parents came back from wherever they were, Billy saw him only from the garage windows, again.

The Harrington parties were otherworldly, for Billy, watching from the apartment over the garage. Billy folded his arms over the railing, watching the orchestra, and the fireworks—and sometimes Steve would climb his tree afterwards, with stories.

“I brought you something,” he would say, leaning to sit a folded linen napkin on Billy’s windowsill, containing three chocolates, or sometimes, “—they’re too busy to give me a kiss goodnight, Billy, so I came to you.”

He fell out of the tree, once, and Billy yelled, and then Steve was forbidden from climbing trees, and forbidden from waking the staff in the dead of night. He tried to climb it, still, with his cast, until Billy hid with the window closed. Steve called softly, and then more softly still, as Billy plugged his ears under the window, until finally he went away.

Steve ignored him, after that, until Billy made a paper airplane, stood on the edge of his railing out of sight of the car pulling in, and threw it when their fathers looked away. Steve saw it fly into the hedge, snatched it, and stuck it in his jacket, but he didn’t look over. Billy didn’t hear anything until Steve ran into the garage two days later, looking around wild-eyed, and waved to him, then hauled him into the hedge around the side.

His cast looked grubby—probably from climbing trees—and the hand not in a cast clutched tightly at Billy’s wrist. “Why wouldn’t you open the window,” he muttered, huffily.

“You might fall again!” Billy whisper-yelled back at him, but it was too good to see Steve to stay mad at him, so he hugged him as hard as he could, cast and all.

“I’d rather fall than not see you,” Steve said, and Billy swallowed, squeezing him tighter.

“I—I’ll sneak out. We could meet in your garden,” Billy said, meaning the grounds, and Steve shook his head.

“They’ll send you away. They caught my mother’s maid by the pool, at night, and they sent her away.” He thought. “I’ll write you letters,” he said, pulling away to stare into Billy’s eyes, and squeeze Billy’s hands, even though they were covered in oil. “I’ll leave them under the driver’s seat. You’ll have to be fast.”

“I’ll find them,” Billy told him, nodding, and that whole summer he found pictures of their games, and stories, and once, a picture of Billy himself, and Steve, holding hands.

That was before Steve was sent away to school. He was different, after—they were both older, but his eyes didn’t look for Billy, and he invited different people to the pool, his friends in their tailored suits, with no oil stains. Friends who would not be sent away.

Steve would come around while Billy was fixing cars, though, and brush his hand around Billy’s waist as he bent over an engine, or slide the trolley out to pull Billy from under the Rolls Royce as Billy changed the oil, and feed him sweet and unusual fruit. Billy stared up at Steve Harrington’s smile as he tried mango for the first time, licking it from Harrington’s fingers as he laughed, and then star fruit, and papaya.

Billy still watched the parties—Steve’s parents’ parties—from a tree, swinging his legs as Steve laughed, and flirted, and occasionally came over and leaned back against the tree, holding a glass of champagne up where Billy could reach down and take it.

Once, when Steve’s dance partner wandered over, he kissed her, whispering and laughing. Billy clenched his fingers against the tree’s branches for long minutes until they’d wandered away, and then he swung down. He went to bed early that night. His pillow was nearly enough to block out the music, and even the fireworks, until he heard the sound of a knock at his window.

He opened it on Steve in his suit, and Steve crawled in, right inside Billy’s room, with his creaky old floors, stained curtains, and the picture Steve had drawn of them holding hands, before he’d been sent away to school.

Steve stepped forward and kissed him the way he hadn’t done since they were children. Billy stared at him, half sure he was asleep, shivering a little with the open window in only his wifebeater and shorts. Steve’s hands were warm around his biceps.

“Wish I could dance with you,” he whispered, then brushed a kiss against Billy’s mouth again, and Billy inhaled in a quick jerk of his lungs. Steve leaned in again, and the floor creaked, and Billy pushed him back towards the window.

“Ssshhh,” he whispered, his fingers sinking into the silk of Steve’s cuffs, and the warm folds where his shirt was tucked into his trousers, under his jacket. “Sshhh…” he muttered again, letting Steve tilt his head, and kiss him softly, his mouth a little open so Billy couldn’t help chasing the warmth.

“You really want me to go?” Steve asked, laughing against his lips, and Billy snorted softly.

“Of course I don’t,” he whispered back.

The next dance, Steve came and leaned against the tree, held up some champagne, and said, “Meet me at the indoor tennis court.”

“...I’ll get fired,” Billy whispered, laughing, and Steve was quiet for a long moment.

“...I’ll understand if you don’t come,” he said softly, tipping back the champagne, “—but I’ll wait until the orchestra stops.”

Billy thought about what his father would do, already, if he was caught in the tree—what Steve’s mother would do if the chauffeur-in-training startled party guests, wandering around in work clothes—but he set his jaw. When everyone gathered around to hear Steve’s father speak on the podium in front of the fountains, Billy snuck off along the hedge—inside the hedge, within view of the house, his heart pounding—and then lingered outside of the tennis courts.

Steve arrived a few minutes later with a whole bottle of champagne, and slid his fingers through Billy’s, tugging him inside. “Why didn’t you go inside?” he asked, bending to sit the bottle down, and then sliding his hands around Billy’s waist.

“...I don’t know,” Billy laughed, who’d only ever been allowed near the courts to clean, or pick up balls. “Want to show me around?”

“This is where I play tennis, to keep me occupied, when I’m missing you,” Steve told him. “This is the wall that makes it so I can’t see your house…” he whispered, and Billy laughed, and slid his arms around Steve’s neck, holding him close. After a few minutes of just...molding against each other, sighing with relief, Steve’s head jerked up, his smile widening in the soft reflected light from the party. “Here,” he whispered, “—this is the song I had to dance with somebody else, when you were right there, in the tree.”

Billy laughed again, shaking his head in disbelief. Steve grabbed his hand, lifting it like a dance, and slid the other around his waist, kicking at Billy’s feet to get them to move. “I don’t know how,” Billy told him, squinting down at his feet, and Steve kissed him again, missing his mouth, laughing, and leaning to try again.

“I’ll show you,” he whispered, counting. After a while Billy realized Steve leading meant he wouldn’t get to spin him around, so he spun Steve anyway, and Steve staggered, yanking him along.

“...he’ll notice you’re gone,” Steve said, finally, as they lay next to each other, panting in their backs, passing the champagne back and forth for swigs. “I’ve kept you too late.”

“I stayed,” Billy told him, leaning over for another soft kiss, and then another, because Steve Harrington was his, at least for a few hours.

The next day, Steve came out while Billy was washing the cars, and leaned against the wall in his tailored suit. He had a weird-looking fruit—dark red, and not very...plump looking, and he carved at it with a penknife as Billy worked. The purple juice stained his fingers.

“You know the story of Hades and Persephone,” Steve said, idly, and Billy thought about it, wiping sweat off his face.

“...he stole her, didn’t he?” Billy asked. It had sounded scary, as a child, reading from the huge illustrated book in the Harrington’s massive echoing library, but he thought, now, maybe he understood. “So they could be together. And her parents rained destruction on them.”

Steve grimaced. “...this is a pomegranate.”

“Oh,” Billy said, intrigued. He rinsed his hands and head off, pushing his hair back to see Steve open-mouthed.

“Come here,” Steve whispered, and Billy came over, and they risked just one kiss, in the middle of the garage, with their fathers both away at work. Billy could barely make himself let go, but he backed away, after, and leaned against a car. “...I thought I’d bring you some seeds,” Steve said, softly. “So you’ll stay with me.”

Billy dug his fingers into his own crossed arms, laughing. “Sure,” but then, when Steve held out the six tiny, bright, faceted seeds, he swallowed. “...six doesn’t seem like enough, now I see how many there are. Give me half.”

Steve grinned, glancing up at him with a wry smile. “That’s fair,” he said, nodding, and they counted them out on two plates. Steve held the odd one up to Billy’s mouth, and he leaned in and ate it, his tongue brushing Steve’s fingers. He helped Steve wash the juice off, after, sliding their fingers together.

When Steve began to work at his father’s company, Billy became his chauffeur. He waited for Steve Harrington every morning, and every evening, and Steve sat in the back, watching him in the rearview mirror.

When Steve bought a car, he took Billy along, and on the way home, he asked him to pull off of the road, into a field. The stars were bright, and his kisses were warm, and Billy helped him lay out a blanket.

Billy wondered, as he fumbled with their belts, clumsy with kissing, whether it would ever happen again.

It didn’t.

Steve wanted ice cream, occasionally, or dinner, and asked Billy to join him, but he worked very early and very late. He still sometimes pressed a quick kiss to Billy’s lips—if no one was looking, if he wasn’t running late—but there were no lingering touches, except one time.

The girl Steve had kissed under Billy’s tree was the daughter of another CEO, and their engagement was announced on the local radio. Steve stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched, and then told Billy to use the back elevator, and come up to his office, right away. When Billy got there, Steve locked the doors, and pulled Billy along to the bed behind the kitchenette. He didn’t say anything, he just slid his hands up under Billy’s shirt, and followed them with his mouth, kissing softly up Billy’s stomach to his chest, and then across his collarbones, as Billy wriggled out of his clothes.

They didn’t unlock the door all day, no matter whose voice came through.

Three weeks later, when Billy climbed in the car and suggested Steve’s favorite cafe, and then the office, Steve said no. He sat looking out the window, his eyes far away.

Billy waited silently, full of dread. “...Mr. Harrington?” he asked, finally, and then, because his voice gave out, he cleared his throat. “...do you have...something to tell me?”

“No,” Steve said, smiling—sadly, Billy thought, and he clenched his hands on the wheel. “...I think I just want to drive. South.”

“...yeah, okay,” Billy said automatically, and then, as was ingrained, “—sir.” Steve snorted a laugh.

As they passed through Carmel and then Indianapolis, Steve slowly relaxed, finally asking Billy to stop for breakfast when he was already an hour late for work. It wasn’t Billy’s place to ask, and he hardly wanted to remind Steve they were not where they were supposed to be, but something must have come across in his eyes as he chewed his bacon and watched Steve, because Steve’s smile went tense again.

“It’s all handled,” he said, sipping his coffee. “I think we can take a little road trip, don’t you?”

“For how long?” Billy asked, his fork freezing in midair, imagining just—spending time with Steve, walking, maybe. Going to a movie theater, he thought, huffing a laugh. He wondered whether Steve Harrington had ever been in a movie theater.

“I’m not sure,” Steve said, glancing up at him with an impenetrable expression, and Billy’s heart hurt, a little, because Steve Harrington had never been a difficult person to read.

After breakfast, Steve slid into the seat next to him, instead of the back, and rested his hand on Billy’s as he shifted gears. Billy could hardly keep his eyes off it.

“How long is this road trip,” he asked, keeping his voice even, and Steve laughed, grimacing.

“Depends on you,” he said.

I ate half of the pomegranate, Billy wanted to say.

Steve directed Billy into the garage next to a tall, narrow blue house with a long, wide porch and white trim, and Billy’s heart started to pound. “...is anyone else staying here?” he asked, cautiously, as Steve unlocked the door, and he shook his head, watching Billy’s face. They wandered into a fine living room, Billy thought, though sparsely furnished. As they wandered through the kitchen and upstairs, Billy pushed open a door on a room with a small, plain bed, and his things. His shoes, his trunk, no longer in the little apartment he shared with his dad.

No longer overlooking Harrington House.

“My friend Buckley has a house near here,” Steve said. “She told me this one was coming up for sale,” he said slowly, glancing at Billy. “...I could afford it.”

Billy was...happy, he thought, probably. “You’re...leaving me here?” he asked, his eyes stinging, and fixed on the plain little room. “You—you’ll visit. Sometimes.”

“I’m—no,” Steve said sharply, grabbing his arm, and Billy yanked away to sit on the squeaky mattress.

“You want me gone before the marriage, then,” he whispered. “I get...a few days? A day,” he bargained, glancing up at Steve, and setting his jaw. He wanted to swear at Steve, for—for being everything he wanted, he guessed. And everything he couldn’t have.

“No, no, I’ve broken off the engagement,” Steve said, grabbing Billy’s hands, “—and I’ve quit. I have a new job, Billy.”

“What,” Billy asked him, hoarsely.

“I’m disowned,” Steve said, laughing, his voice unsteady. “I’ve convinced my father I’m too difficult to reason with. I’m out of the will. I will live here. I bought the house with my money, from Mother.”

“Here,” Billy breathed, staring around again, and then at Steve’s face.

“I hoped you would like it here,” Steve told him. “I wanted to show you, so you could—road trip here. Come down on weekends, maybe—”

“You packed my things,” Billy reminded him. “Is this a little road trip, or—”

“This could be home,” Steve told him, smiling tensely. “Come see our room.”

“...our room,” Billy laughed, disbelievingly, as Steve drew him down the hall, and into a wide, high-ceilinged room with a massive bed.

“Our room,” Steve repeated, smiling against Billy’s lips, as Billy took shaky, bewildered breaths. “Who would question a single gentleman having a gentleman?”

The other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done

#harringrove #Harringrove April #Steve's the richest boy in the state probably #Billy's a chauffeur #They pine

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ooc-but-stylish · 3 years ago

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freezedive:

I think I said it in one of your other beautiful posts, but I thought I’d mention it again. All of the ridiculous cutscenes did give us a golden nugget of information on Luna that most of us who are brutally critical of her (like you and me), suspected all along: Luna openly admits to Gentiana that she doesn’t think she has anything to offer Noctis outside of being an oracle. And Gentiana makes it worse by speaking in fancy words by saying some bullshit about her being the oracle is her being human or something and that she is fulfilling her true calling and that is what Noctis needs? Idk but it reeked of emotional manipulation.

I hold little to no regard for Ravus because there’s evidence Luna was being brutally beaten right under his own nose while he was busy being the Emperor’s lapdog thinking it could maybe give him the power to save his sister? The man should have opened his eyes and defended her against the men that kept them jailed

I happened on this reply to roxainn’s post while trying to recapitulate all my other FFXV critical posts and reblogs on the way to making new ones.

Crawling back to find anything about this point, I find that it was posted 3 years ago. But at least I reblogged the reply to it.... and missed that it was literally @ ME. Goddamn did I slack.

But here’s my reply, 3 years late, which should elaborate on where I stand on this.

Yes, the flashback that gets triggered by a random creepy little girl in Tenebrae is about Luna and Gentiana. Somehow the little girl knew about that conversation even though she wasn’t there to witness it first-hand? Or maybe Noctis was imagining what the conversation would be like between Gentiana and Luna off of the vague suggestion from the girl, and it’s just him telling on himself that his imagination of Luna says all that? Otherwise the not-altogether-tinfoil-hat theory says it’s Gentiana in the form of a little girl, telling Noctis something that IMO should piss him off but just makes him sad and guilty because Luna loved him so much, don’t you see. She loved him so much that after wrapping her entire life around him, she’d just want to keep that going for the rest of their lives!

Gentiana opens the conversation with, “At first, the father had mourned the fate of his chosen son. Yet in Tenebrae, the two found solace. It was not the Oracle who assuaged their fears. But the girl…she holds…the true power.”

Then Luna replies, “I have little to offer a king, other than the voice afforded the Oracle. Nevertheless…” She turns to look at the wedding dress. “And—I’m afraid he might find this foolish… But…to be together with Noctis again, even if only for a short while… It…would mean the world to me. I do not seek to guide him, merely to stand beside him.”

The exchange is all types of fucky.

First off, she was twelve. What comfort could she have offered Regis and Noctis? What comfort was she capable of when Sylva was right there, an adult with experience of an Oracle and a personality thanks to a presumable full life not hampered by grooming of the gods?

Second, every other scene of Luna as a child is of her telling Noctis his duty, and that it was her duty to see it through. Did that assuage his fears-- the fears he didn’t have at the time since he never knew the entire meaning of his fate and was being told a saccharine, embellished version of it by Luna right there? Did that comfort Regis, knowing a little girl would also die to protect his son if the gods wanted it, but that she wouldn’t have the will to avert their fates whatsoever?

Third, even she thinks Noctis would think her desire to be with him is foolish. So... was she expecting that Noctis himself didn’t have feelings for her or want to spend time with her of his own volition for reasons outside of her job? She was looking forward to a marriage with no emotional security, where her desires are one-sided and unreciprocated, and the man she cares for think she’s worthless outside of her powers? She would’ve been willing to put herself through that, given a choice?

We know what we know and think what we think, but the fact that this was placed right in the vanilla game and no one thought that was wrong, and instead they doubled down on it in patches, is pathetic on their part.

Moreover, what does The Girl have, that was separate from The Princess and The Oracle? Every facet of her being wrapped around Noctis since age 4. She was nothing but her duty by the time Noctis met her; they had no scenes where they acted as children would. Even supplemental/promotional art for other XV media and related locales cement that. Little Luna serves Little Noctis pastries, she’s not seen eating with him. Luna teaches Noctis how to play piano, she’s not playing with him. Dawn of the Future came out with its own art, and Noctis is afforded the liberty to sit in a chair, and his son(?) sits on his lap, while Luna and her spitting image child(?) are both on their knees, looking up at the dudes.

In most of their art together, Luna and Noctis are either not meeting each other's gazes, she's bending or kneeling to him, or he's supposed to be holding her close but he hover-hands her, or there’s that one time where they took a selfie and the picture was of their Pocket Edition versions. They’re still not looking at each other in that one. And it’s not canon.

Anyway yeah, any conversation Gentiana has with Luna about Noctis is emotional manipulation on Gentiana’s part, but the writers manage just enough to make everyone involved seem creepy and reprehensible in their own way.

In DOTF, Luna has a death soliloquy that confirms she sunk into the water at the end of the game’s Chapter 9, but the soliloquy is about how she was prepared to die even at the age of 12, and she put on a smile and resolved to be strong for Noctis’s sake, so that he wouldn’t remember her having a look of despair. There’s a line there about how she would cry herself to sleep but Gentiana would wipe her tears. Gentiana does nothing else except allow her to cry and wipe her tears afterward, and makes no effort to save her from her fate or at least take her out of terrible situations so that she would cry fewer tears. But there is cut dialogue from the game, and used in the novel, where Gentiana revealed herself as Shiva when Luna was <16 (probably still 12 at the time), when she thought she was being held back from forming the covenants, so there’s that. And Luna still somehow ignored that this meant Shiva allowed Sylva to die, and thanked this useless goddess for her nonexistent generosity.

For whatever reason they had to add a passage where Luna superimposes the image of an eight-year-old Noctis onto the adult version-- quote, "the image of him as a child, burned into my eyelids, overlaps with his now-grown face"-- even though Noctis has canonically sent her photos of him as a teenager (15-16, around the time he met Prompto in high school, see: Brotherhood). Granted, that's a translation from Luna's voice actress reading an excerpt as if it were first person POV. The English version says she sees the child image first, then the adult version is superimposed. Then not much after that there's a passage where Noctis smiles as his child self and it was "that smile she loved that had been in her heart all these years, giving her strength, always and forever".

So she was groomed and turned into a shell since age 4, believes she has no value outside of her job and turned her grooming on a similarly vulnerable child, and her strongest image of him, the one she fell in love with and kept in her heart, is of the helpless boy that promised her the world without knowing the cost. The smile of the carefree boy that didn't know his journey would end with his soul annihilated. It couldn’t have been that hard to have her see an image of him as the 30 year old True King of Light that he would become. At least she'd sound a little less like a weirdo who continually places herself (and is placed by the narrative) as below him, unworthy of him, etc. but also has strong feelings and memories toward a goddamn child.

Re: Ravus: you already got a reply to that, but for real? Ravus was also shafted by the plot and beaten down by terrible, amateur writing. The narrative shits on him as if it’s written by a high schooler or otherwise emotionally arrested adult trying to push a Mary Sue Protagonist. The modus operandi for those stories is that everyone who disagrees with the protagonist in any way has to suffer tremendous humiliation including but not limited to death, because the Protagonist Is Just So Good And Perfect And Always Right.

Nothing Ravus does justifies his treatment in-game or in-fandom like he’s a one-note out-and-out villain who wanted nothing but to kill Noctis and disrespect his sister, to the point where his corpse is defiled multiple times in Chapter 13 and he’s twisted into a perversion of himself that begs to die.

Chapter 13 has Noctis land next to Ravus’s corpse and all his letters to Luna, and Noctis has piss all to say about it, either out loud or to anyone. He looks at the Sword of the Father, glances at Ravus, and without a word takes the Royal Arm and lets the Magitek arm-- still dripping, still gross-- fall onto Ravus’s body and doesn’t even move it.

He had no way of knowing beforehand that Ignis and Gladio knew of Ravus being killed. WE didn't even know they saw security footage until Ch13V2 was added in. Noctis happening on his late fiancée's dead bro sounds, I don’t fucking know, like something you’d want to tell everyone else about later. Along with the letters he wrote evidencing that he intended to return the Sword of the Father to Noctis!

An aside: The Letters from Ravus are just weird to behold; it isn't 100% clear whether Luna ever received all of those letters. She had to have received the first one, at least. But the idea that Ardyn intercepted even one other letter so that Luna never heard from her brother between Tenebrae and Altissia is farfetched. He shouldn’t be able to intercept those messages as if they were delivered conventionally. Luna has a pair of magic space-bending Shiba Inu that send letters instantly across continents. If she’s sparing their use to send Noctis one-liners and stickers but can’t afford that for Ravus to send her discrete updates on Noctis’s status, she’s a piece of shit.

They do meet in Tenebrae as Ravus wanted her to, and they have the conversation where he gets on her case about her “throwing [her] life away” for Noctis. So chances are higher that Ardyn only got a hold of all three letters after Luna received them and no sooner, but then he shouldn’t be tossing letters from Ravus at the dude’s body when it makes more sense for him to toss down letters to Ravus, since the writers wanted to make a point of Ardyn having a vicious streak. It makes way more sense for Ardyn to deprive Ravus of Luna’s writing, then insult him with them post-mortem, unless Ravus’s notes were really all he could acquire, meaning Luna never once wrote back to her brother.

The Doylist explanation is that the writing team sucks and couldn't be assed to think of anything for Luna to say because they didn't think of her at all. The Watsonian explanation is that Luna’s a piece of shit and that tracks with her in Kingsglaive watching her brother burn alive in response to the Ring, but ignoring him and running to Regis’s aid instead, but then the rest of the plot presents her as morally pure through her white clothing and “unconditional, self-abnegating love” for Noctis.

Back to the topic: I don’t know, maybe I’m being old fashioned, but Noctis should’ve given more of a shit that his dropping the Magitek Arm on Ravus’s body was probably what turned him into a mutated abomination begging to die, and he thought so little of Ravus that the dude isn’t even in the glimpse of "people who helped me get this far" in the Beyond. Ravus doesn’t even get a spot to wish Noctis and Luna well on their afterlife wedding, not that it makes any sense for any of them to have words to say since Noctis is already dead, no one was there with them, and none of the bros expressed any sign that they knew that Noctis was bound to get married after his sacrifice (he sure doesn’t mention it in the final campfire scene and that’d be a better place than any). But anyway, Regis is in the Beyond at Noctis’s side even though he never told Noctis a damn thing and still never spoke to him from within the Ring, but Ravus? Nah, he’s the real asshole somehow and doesn’t deserve any recognition whatsoever.

The only other characters I know of that have a remotely similar dynamic to Noctis, Luna, and Ravus (lovers, but the girl has a straight-edge protective brother working for the bad guys) is Nero, Kyrie, and Credo (see: Devil May Cry), but as much as I think the writing in that series is hokey as fuck, at least the writer(s) for DMCs 4 and 5 had enough sense to make the love story simple and based it from a line from Amagasaki City-- “I love you, so I love the city that you love.”-- and opted against portraying Credo as an outright villain because if Nero killed him, Kyrie would resent him for it even though she knew Credo was working for the same Order that threatened her life.

Shouldn’t Noctis care about the shit Luna cares about even if he has no personal investment in it or it’s inconvenient to him? Shouldn’t he care about Tenebrae and its prosperity? or about Ravus? Nah, it’s okay, Noctis doesn’t have to respect Luna’s love for her brother or her kingdom because for all intents and purposes, she doesn’t care for Ravus or for Tenebrae as much as she loves Noctis. Her love for Noctis and her looking forward to the wedding is what matters here.

The yaaaas queen vicious clapback from Kingsglaive!Luna about how Ravus is the Empire’s dog is especially rich coming from her when she’s fellating the gods all through the game even though Eos’s equivalent of The Holy Bible says the Hexatheon’s Revelations destroy cities and that undoubtedly means people are killed by the gods, and their summoner is complicit, because there’s no such thing as a perfect evacuation. See: "Revelations left great devastation in their wake, with entire cities being laid to ruin," noted in the Cosmogony long before the True King even exists.

Luna herself didn’t see a problem with this and helped in the effort, with no regard to the collateral damage she would cause with the summoning: bonus points for the part where Leviathan is hostile to humanity and threatens to eat every living being if Noctis fails! She had even less regard to the damage Niflheim would cause in their attempt to kill the gods even though she was first-hand witness to them sacking Insomnia. Waking and defeating Titan deprived Lestallum of the meteor they derived power from. Waking Leviathan destroyed Altissia. Luna’s refusal to leave Insomnia when told to by Regis led to her being used as bait and taking the whole of the Kingsglaive out of Insomnia in time for their Face Heel Turn and Insomnia being destroyed. Everything else leads to the eventual World of Ruin where people also die.

All because she killed herself prematurely from the covenants and didn’t hold back the longer nights as she promised to the public’s face and on her honor as Oracle she would do. Her dying words in Chapter 9 were her being completely satisfied with her fate because “[her] prayers were answered, [her] calling fulfilled”, even though the calling requires that she dies and she should’ve known better than anyone that her death, even if it was for Noctis’s ascension, would endanger the rest of the world for 10 years and helped the Starscourge spread. But instead of fighting for her own life to stem the plague for as long as possible, she let herself die under the belief that "Noct can handle this" to give him the chance to be the revered King of Light. She also didn’t make a single appearance on the world of the living in her spirit form during those ten years until Noctis needed help with a piddly imitation of the Magic Wall, only then does she come down in her ghost form with seemingly all of her power intact, and summons five of The Six as if Noctis can’t easily do it himself.

But Ravus is the lapdog? Luna’s the one with her “ends justify the means” behavior and what looks like general neglect for actual human beings.

Anyway, Ravus stabs Caligo in the back and kills him, and that move only makes sense in light of the idea that Caligo was manhandling Luna as seen in the Dawn trailer. Ravus was 16 when Tenebrae was overrun, and there’s no reason to believe he was magically immune to institutional abuse, so there’s a high chance that he was abused by the Empire too, held resentment of that, and waited for the time he’d be able to retaliate with no repercussions. Gentiana as a goddess is 1000000% more on the hook about letting Luna be beaten than Ravus is, since he saw his mother die in front of him while Regis ran away. Regis had the power of the Ring and could have used elemancy to put out that fire, or void magic to banish Glauca and his MT army, didn’t do that, but he totally spares enough magic during the treaty signing to toss around Thunder spells straight from his hand, cast barriers, and summon some Royal Arms straight at Iedolas, and that’s bad enough. Gentiana who’s been the Fleuret family attendant since Luna was born and also is Shiva who can freeze people with her fingertip had even less excuse to let that fire rage, to let Sylva die protecting her son, and to stand by and allow her ward(s) to get thrown around by some random Imperial soldier.

#freezedive #ffxv critical #ffxv criticism #lunafreya critical #gentiana critical #regis critical #lunafreya nox fleuret #ravus nox fleuret #regis lucis caelum #ravus deserved better #long read

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onebizarrekai · 3 years ago

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I think that lucia di lammermoor is one of my new favorite operas not just because of the mad scene but because the opera makes no sense whatsoever

there are literally so many plot holes in the libretto. there are so many unexplained facets of the narrative, unresolved arcs, dialogues that mandate copious creative liberties, things that only happen off-stage, and some unsolvable problems that can only be fixed by cutting things or directing things a certain way. there’s so much nonsense it’s actually hilarious. if you read the source story of the bride of lammermoor the opera diverts quite a bit, but the bride of lammermoor is actually even worse, so let’s put that to the side.

let’s just start from the beginning of the opera, paraphrasing as much as possible. lucia’s evil brother, enrico, is the first lead to greet the stage, minutes after his goony normano. normano tells enrico the tale of how enrico’s archenemy, edgardo, saved the life of lucia, and he reluctantly admits that they are now in love with each other and are secretly meeting up all the time. enrico flips his shit and sings about how he’s going to kill edgardo or whatever. bide the bent (aka raimondo, but schirmir really said bide the bent, whatever the hell that means) exists and does priest stuff because he’s a priest. by the way, there’s this whole thing about how the ashton family (aka lucia and enrico) are protestant and edgardo is catholic and that’s why they hate each other and that’s why there’s a priest.

anyway they all leave, and then lucia and alice enter. lucia is, naturally, waiting for her illegal boyfriend: edgardo. she is very scared because enrico is a piece of shit and wants to kill her boyfriend. alice is like “yo man this is a bad idea” and lucia is like “where’s edgardo” but lucia is also perturbed by something else. she has a ghost story to tell about this nondescript fountain and tells alice about the girl who was killed by her lover at this fountain, and then suddenly goes like “by the way the ghost of the dead woman appeared to me” and like wow ok lucia. after singing about all of the water turning to blood in her hallucination, she proceeds to completely change moods and sing about how much she loves edgardo because she is crazy. after all of this, edgardo finally arrives and tells lucia about how he actually has to go to france to do ambassador stuff and disappear for an indefinite period of time. he says that they should finally tell enrico about their relationship. lucia completely shuts him down, and then edgardo cries about how enrico has killed his family and how she’s the only light of his life. they end up deciding to keep their relationship a secret anyway and then vow to marry each other.

act 2, enrico has ordered normano to forge a break-up letter from edgardo to send it to lucia. normano shows up to give it to enrico, enrico summons lucia into wherever he is to tell her that he needs to marry her off to some other guy in order to save their family. lucia is like “but I’m marrying someone else” and enrico is like “oh yeah? read this” and gives her the letter, and lucia naturally breaks down because it’s a big lie about how edgardo has found someone else in france. she cries about it until this big fanfare plays to welcome her new husband, arturo. at this point lucia is singing about nothing except how much death would benefit her right now. enrico leaves after being an asshole for a few more minutes, and then in comes bide the bent to lecture lucia about the invalidity of her previous marital vows. she leaves to change into a wedding gown.

enter arturo, this random loser that enrico wants lucia to marry. his lines are so cliché that he’s probably reading them off a sheet of paper (which is exactly how we staged the production I am currently doing). somehow arturo knows about lucia’s affair with edgardo because those two were actually horrible at being secretive, but also he doesn’t care because he gets to marry a hottie. enrico tells arturo about how lucia’s mother died and that’s why she’s crying about the wedding. lo and behold, lucia enters and she is crying. they hold the wedding right then and there under the Authority™ of bide the bent, enrico forces lucia to sign the wedding documents, and then everyone is like “wait who’s at the door?” and then EDGARDO BREAKS IN and he’s like “EDGAAAAAARDO” and they sing a whole sextet that borders a confusion ensemble except it’s a bel canto tragedy.

edgardo is like “yeah man! it’s my right to be here since I’m engaged to lucia!” and enrico is like “PSH” and bide the bent comes up like “sorry she just signed this Other Marriage Contract” and shows it to edgardo and edgardo is like WHAT and he comes up to lucia like BRUH YOU DONE THIS?? and lucia doesn’t even know what’s happening at this point, she’s just like “yes?? but” and then edgardo takes off his ring and hers and then throws a temper tantrum before he gets kicked out.

behold the wolf’s craig duet, the most stupid and pointless thing in this opera considering what happens later. enrico barges into edgardo’s house and they sing about how they’re going to kill each other and duel at the graveyard. that’s it. there’s probably sexual tension.

after that, there’s a wedding party, except with a Horrifying Twist. lucia goes upstairs with arturo and fucking kills him. having lost her mind, she comes out covered in blood and sings for like twenty minutes in a very impressive manor. she collapses on the floor at the very end.

there’s a random recit right afterwards where enrico, bide the bent and normano briefly talk about lucia losing her mind. while enrico is crying about lucia, bide the bent literally blames normano of all people, who did exactly nothing, for every bad thing that happened to lucia.

the final scene begins at the graveyard. now, I know what you’re thinking. edgardo and enrico promised to duel each other here, right? right! so where the hell is enrico? I dunno, not here. edgardo is here, and he’s crying and stuff about his dead father. he’s very sad and probably wants to perish. a chorus shows up mourning something. edgardo asks about it and no one wants to tell him. bide the bent appears in all his priestliness and tells edgardo that lucia is now in heaven. how did she die? beats me. she died of insanity or something. edgardo has lost the final thing in his life that matters to him, so he decides to “go see her” and stabs himself.

the opera ends.

welcome to lucia di lammermoor. now, some of these plot holes are resolvable through directing. for example, lucia’s insanity is inexplicable in the libretto. nobody is just sad about their boyfriend and commits murder–granted, her first aria had her singing about a ghost and a fountain of blood. why’s she like this, though? she’s probably not ok. so like, some people explain this by making enrico way way worse than just a big liar. in the production that I’m doing, enrico is being depicted as sexually abusive towards lucia, and like, yeah that helps do some explaining. but you know what it doesn’t help? the parts of the opera that normally get cut, like the stupidass wolf’s craig duet that exists for no reason and usually gets cut because it makes no sense. also, the scene right after the mad scene where bide the bent comically blames normano for everything even though it is clearly enrico’s fault and enrico is randomly mourning lucia even though he was horrible to her for the whole opera. unfortunately, when you have companies like the met, which do full operas with no cuts, you get the whole, nonsensical story in its full glory, not to mention the met tends to shy away from taking creative liberties with the directing.

so like, why do I say this opera is a new favorite? well, aside from it being fun to sing, since I’m doing it for the first time, it’s absolutely hilarious to consider who the real mastermind here is, since for some reason, the librettist seems to think that it’s normano. you have to make up so much subtext in this story in order to even make it begin to make sense, so how far can you take it? how much nonsense can you create?

easy mode is assuming the mastermind is enrico. he’s a horrible person. obviously bide the bent accuses normano because he’s trying to divert the blame from enrico, who may or may not kill him if he says the truth. however, enrico does not go to the graveyard to kill edgardo and tie off loose ends (which I personally think he should have). enrico just kind of disappears, honestly, in spite of being the main bad guy.

bide the bent is another viable option. he blames normano to divert attention from himself. he plays the role of the peacemaker between edgardo and enrico during the sextet, but it’s all a sham. the reason bide the bent appears in the final graveyard scene is because he’s the true villain here. he simply took advantage of everyone around him in order to make sure everything went according to plan. enrico’s bs towards lucia, lucia’s insanity, edgardo’s depression, normano loyalty, the whole deal. he wishes to rise in power… perhaps the reason enrico does not show up in the final scene is because bide the bent has already disposed of him.

what if it was edgardo? what if he and lucia devised a plan to create an opening that would allow them to run away? what if arturo was in on it? lucia pretends to murder arturo, pretends to go insane, and the plan was to finally flee with edgardo… but then they were INTERCEPTED. their plan was ruined. lucia was disposed of by the enemy off-stage and it was too late. they claim she died of insanity, but she was killed by normano under enrico’s orders, or whoever else is the designated evil one here.

in the met, for some reason, they decide to have lucia’s ghost come in during the final scene and silently “coerce” edgardo into ending his life, which sounds cool, but it was ridiculous. I just remember the blood bag being in the wrong place so he had to stab himself in the kidney and lucia actually pushed the prop knife in like she wasn’t literally a ghost. there was also a ghost during lucia’s first aria that totally upstaged her. this opens up many stupid doors for directing such as arturo’s ghost returning as well if need be. anyone’s ghost could be there. ghosts canonically exist at the met. arturo could be fortnite dancing during the mad scene.

behold, a terrible take. edgardo is having a secret affair after all, but he’s having an affair with enrico. enrico is enraged when he discovers edgardo’s relationship with his sister because he thought that THEY had a thing. he vengefully tries to break them up by marrying lucia off to arturo. enrico and edgardo sing the wolf’s craig duet as a not-tragic breakup song.

honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in this goddamn cast was sleeping with each other. the possibilities are endless

during the staging period of the show, we all came up with so many stupid and hilarious ideas that we could stage an entire comedy version of this opera. maybe one day it could happen. maybe…

anyway it’s like midnight and I’m doing my cast’s performance of this opera in two days, and I just drove home a while ago from performance 1 today talking with my family about all of these stupid possibilities, so it’s all on my mind. at least the mad scene is fun to sing

#random stuff #me? going on a comical tangent about opera? more likely than you think #there's a lot of content warnings for stuff here but that's to be expected of opera #honestly I'll lose my mind for real if I have to do this show at face value #enrico isn't evil enough in just the libretto alone #see operas usually have pretty simple stories #and plot holes #but LUCIA #lucia is something else

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flickeringart · 3 years ago

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Thinking and Feeling - What keeps you civilized?

In order to be able to live in a civilized manner, a person has to align with certain values and standards that enable behavior that doesn’t threaten, disturb or cause disruption in social interactions. The air signs in astrology represents the thinking function, the ability to formulate ideals and communicate with the environment. The air element is the function of deductive reasoning and it allows for a certain detachment from the emotional-physical reality. The thinking function allows us to interact with the world on an intangible level, through sublimating actual experience to conceptual reality. “Communication” is only possible when there’s separation present – where there’s a subject and an object present.

The air element is often referred to as the basis for “civilization”. It is uniquely human; it is what sets us apart from the animals. Without thinking, there are no ideas, no conceptual ideal to strive for. This is not to say that thinking on its own is productive – there needs to be a physical- emotional reality in order for thinking to have something to conceptualize of in the first place. As humans, we are only partly thinking creatures, and we can hardly be said be defined solely by our thoughts. Even though air dominant types might be more justified in basing their identity on their capacity to think and navigating conceptual reality, there is so much going on at a denser, subtler level, a feeling level that might or might not fit into pre-conceived conceptual framework, that might not be understood through concepts.

Thinking is undoubtedly powerful. In a “civilized” society the pen is mightier than the sword, if used skillfully. A lot can be done with a sharp intellect and a quick mind. However, thinking is not responsive, it is a conscious construction. Powerful emotion or overwhelming instinctual reactions are more organic and dynamic. People can hold values and ideals that are perfectly in line with civilized society, but it doesn’t mean that the instinct is ever “tamed” because it can’t be constructed. Thinking can’t hold emotion back and the thinking function can’t ever perfectly define or describe what is felt simply because emotion is subjective and not objective. No person can completely act and behave in accordance with ideas and ideals. Emotions prevent this from happening – they are immediate responses that are personal – not impersonal. This is why, on an intellectual level one can say, “it’s wrong to kill”, but it won’t prevent the person from affectively responding to a situation in a way that results in a killing. Reversely, on an intellectual level one can say, “I have to kill”, but it won’t prevent the emotions from moving in a different direction.

Does thinking really keep us civilized in a real sense then? It seems not; it only creates a façade of civilization, a light façade of connectivity and communion, a light façade of love that stems from detachment from actuality and idealization of potential. The intellectual ideal is impersonal, seemingly more pure than the ambiguous and powerfully primitive emotional response, but in a sense, also inhuman (superhuman?) and inorganic. The thinking function is indispensable, but it is shallow in its own way, less potent and less alive than emotion. Words only have true power in connection to emotion; on their own they are simply tools, empty and dead. Perhaps it is accurate to say that civilization cannot manifest without alignment of the soul and the mind. Thinking can’t control feeling and feeling can’t control thinking, inevitably one is operating separately from the other but they can align. Thinking and feeling are unable to reduce each other to nothing. Thinking doesn’t cancel out feeling and vice versa. Strong emotion might call for intellectual justification socially, yet, since thinking didn’t cause feeling in the first place (at least not consciously), one can only speculate as to what the emotion is or was in response to – why it was so intense and if it was reasonable and so on… In a sense, trying to conceptualize of emotion is like trying to conceptualize of life and it’s never productive because it won’t make the feeling nature be different than it is or prevent it from expressing itself.

Generally speaking, emotions don’t “fit in” socially and societally because they are strictly personal and untamed – often impossible to fit into a conceptual framework that everyone can understand and make sense of. There is no logic behind emotions because they are immediately experienced and are not part of some pre-conceived conceptual construct. In fact, many people find it insulting when others try to make sense of their reactions and responses, to make them fit into a neat intellectual-conceptual “box”. Emotions demands acceptance no matter what – they essentially reflects organic truth rather than conceptual truth. The feeling function is often devalued and deemed “less evolved”, but without it, we would lack deeper “personal truth”.

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On a separate note, albeit connected to the text above,

Some claim that thought creates reality and emotional experience is a direct result of subconscious thought patterns and programming. I believe this is true in the sense that there’s a universal blueprint that is set up for us, however, I don’t think that thought creates reality in our own personal lives in the sense that we can separate ourselves from our personal blueprint (reflected by our birth chart) by “working on ourselves”. It is true that one can become more conscious of components and facets of the psyche, but it’s too presumptuous to believe that one could “change” the self for the better to fit a preferred mold. Some people seem to work well with the “law of attraction”, they are able to positively focus and manifest the personal reality they want. This ability is undoubtedly reflected in the birth chart of these people – optimism, a propensity to believe and receive effortlessly. Not everyone is set up that way, which is quite evident considering the struggles and hardships that people face, despite the effort to look on the bright side of life. Some charts are set up in order for the individual to experience pain and crises in order to discover something of value through the death and rebirth process. This is a valid path, although it might not seem blissful or peaceful in the least. For these types it is not realistic or rewarding to soar on the surface of life.

Take Esther Hicks for example, a famous channel, author and public speaker. She helps people to close the gap between their desires and the manifestation of them. She is channeling a “collective thought stream” (called Abraham) in her talks that is concerned with seeing humanity actualize its desires and dreams. Her chart, as shown below (from astrotheme.com) has a grand fire trine with Jupiter, Venus and Mars. This trine blesses her with a certain fundamental and natural faith in her own ability to receive what she wants from life. Her chart is not void of friction and trouble, but this grand trine has her back when the going gets tough. She would have a natural propensity for generosity and an “abundance mindset” as they call it.

The conjunction of Pluto-Saturn-Mars (all in retrograde which makes the energy experienced internally) in Leo points to a charged desire nature, a concentrated and powerful drive that is, for lack of a better word, ruthless and almost painful. As Mars is the fighter of the personality, this kind of configuration makes me think of an insatiable, prideful yet painfully contained fighter who can’t admit to any personal passions without feeling weakened, but at the same time can’t let go and has to have at all. It makes sense, that a person who helps people to get what they want through mental-emotional alignment would understand the pain and dissatisfaction caused by not being able to control life. The conjunction opposes Mercury, which is interesting since she writes and speaks for a living, or rather speaks for an autonomous “entity” of sorts. She lends her communicative ability to something other than herself. When she channels, she’s not in her Pluto-Saturn-Mars mode. Venus and Jupiter, the two benefics, and Uranus nicely support Mercury. She can convey ideas that are revolutionary and speak of happiness and abundance. It strikes me that when she speaks, she speaks to people with frustrated desires (Mercury opposite Pluto-Saturn-Mars) – it is as if she projects this cluster of energy and experiences it through her audience. I’m sure she avoids identifying with it and meets it through others that she encounters. The Pluto-Saturn-Mars conjunction is highly uncomfortable and the person would likely attempt to work around it in any way possible if the chart allows for it. In Esther’s case, she has a lot to lean on in order to avoid its harshness - the trine certainly helps and the Mercury opposition allows detachment. Nonetheless she meets it in her life because it’s part of her blueprint.

My point with all of this is to illustrate that certain “philosophies” and belief systems come easier to others because of the personal astrological setup and it being backed by experience in accordance with the planets. It always makes sense why a person thinks and feels a certain way from looking at the natal chart. Nobody’s wrong and nobody’s right, there’s only the chart and what it allows for and doesn’t allow for. I do believe that no one can act outside of his or her chart. All paths are ultimately valid from a universal perspective. Work with your own blueprint because that is the only way to live anyway.

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runningdownthatroad · 3 years ago

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I just have to get this off my chest after seeing some very disturbing posts about 9/11 floating around on my dash as well as some truly crude commentary. A lot probably won't agree with my sentiments but I feel like this needs to be said.

I've seen a lot of things on Tumblr in the past that maybe I consider to be in poor taste or don't agree with but I usually just scroll past, sometimes block for curating sake, but today is the first time I truly was shell-shocked. To see the memes and blasé jokes people are making about this day are just absolutely horrific and appalling.

I get that a lot of people on this site now may not remember what happened that day and only learned second hand through school or media or other people telling them. I get that a lot occurred after this that wasn't right which we definitely should be learning from. I also get that there is a lot of anti-American and anti-white sentiments going around currently, especially on this site.

But here's the thing:

Not only Americans died that day. Not only white people died that day. That's the thing about terrorists and what these hijackers did: they don't care about your skin color, your culture, your religious preference, your sexual orientation, your gender orientation, your age, your economic status, your personality, whether you support them or not, your political persuasion, your job, or any of it. Everyone is fair game to them. For crying out loud, look at what the Afghani people are currently going through and how the Taliban are treating their own country's people, women especially. If you think this is bad (which it truly is), have you seen how things went under their rule before 9/11 even happened? Do you know their terrifyingly violent and brutal history? Women had acid thrown in their faces if they didn't wear a full hijab. People were mutilated or executed if they didn't fall in line with the law of the Taliban. And this doesn't even begin to go into Al-Qaeda or Isis. But I'm not here to talk about that or delve into that topic too much.

My point in mentioning all of this is that white Americans weren't the only ones that were killed that day. People of all faiths, of all colors, of different countries, died that day, too. And the unity that is consistently discussed every 9/11 anniversary is in regards to us being aware of that fact, us mourning all of their losses together, and the collective desire to come together and help once the planes hit and after the towers collapsed.

So when people say "why am I supposed to cry over white Americans getting killed that day" think about that. Not only white Americans died that day. And regardless of their color, their nationality, their culture, their religion, etc. anyone dying is always sad. Whether it be a jetliner being used as a weapon that crashed into their floor or someone dying of cancer or someone being killed in a mudslide or someone dying in a car accident -- it is always sad. And empathy should always be shown in response, even if it doesn't impact you personally. Let's not forget these people have loved ones that got left behind, that are still here.

So when people say "if something knocks into a cow and knocks it over, I'm not expected to care, but if something knocks into a building and knocks it over, suddenly I'm supposed to care?" think about that. People aren't grieving two large pieces of steel architecture. People aren't saying "always remember those two towers". The WTC Towers were a symbol (yes, for American wealth, I get it) but became so much more of a multi-faceted powerful symbol after 9/11. The towers represent a way of life before 9/11 happened, but more importantly they represent the people lost that day, who were in the towers when they collapsed. For all of the first responders who were stuck on those floors still trying to help evacuate people to safety when the buildings finally gave. The two footprints and two blue lights aren't a symbol of American wealth or a naivete and simpler way of life pre-9/11 - they are a symbol of memorialization for that day. The Freedom Tower was erected to show that despite the loss of that day, we stood united (even if there seems to be more and more division these days). It's a message to the world that yes, destruction and death happened that day in NYC, but so did rebuilding and life carrying on. It's a symbol of strength, resilience, and unity - something that was everywhere you looked days after this event occurred. The two towers (aka NYC) may have gotten knocked down but the city got back up. They weren't kept down - that's the point of the Freedom Tower.

When people say "I don't understand, what is it that I shouldn't be forgetting since I can't remember it anyway" here is what we all should be remembering despite our age or our connection (or lack thereof) with this event:

2,997 innocent civilians died that day. Among them were 343 firefighters, 37 police officers, 23 Port Authority police officers, 8 EMS workers, and 4 other first responders. Also among them were 246 people on the four planes that crashed.

The passengers of United Flight 93 made a choice to fight back against the hijackers and saved lives that day by sacrificing their own.

Many children lost parents. Many parents lost children. Many brothers lost sisters, and many sisters lost brothers. Many spouses lost their significant others. Many lost friends, family, and loved ones.

For those who want a better connection to this day who didn't experience it and/or don't remember it, and for those others who are seriously lacking in empathy: yes, it was a highly publicized event due to the hundreds of cameras (including media outlets) watching that day, but if the horrific images aren't enough to garner some of your empathy, then there are plenty of other resources at your disposal. Documentaries like 9/11 by James Hanlon and the Naudet brothers, 102 Minutes That Changed America (which shows you not only all of the first-hand eyewitness accounts that day but also lets you hear 911 calls, radio transmissions between firefighters, and people's reactions to the event and each other who were there), 9/11 Firefighters (on Discovery Plus) and even more recently, 9/11: The Turning Point (on Netflix) which provides a 360 degree view of the events that led up to 9/11, 9/11 itself, and what came after, displaying all different viewpoints. You can read the 9/11 Commission Report or there are several books and memoirs out there like Wake-Up Call by Kristen Breitweiser, or even historical accounts in books, newspaper articles, and online. But most importantly, listen to people's stories. The ones who were there, the ones who saw it happen, the ones who ran in to help, the ones who lost loved ones. That is the most important part and the most powerful. On Hulu, ABC News ran segments of 9/11 Twenty Years Later, "Women Of Resilience" being especially powerful. It's hard not to feel a human connection to these stories or any kind of empathy.

For those who are making these jokes and memes, if you like shows like 9-1-1 and Chicago Fire, etc, imagine those first responder characters rushing into those buildings to save lives and losing theirs in the process. If you don't remember 9/11 or feel any connection or empathy, imagine hundreds of Bucks or Eddies or Bobbys or Hens or Chimneys dying that day as they worked to save so many. Sorry to be so blunt because I love those characters too, but do you get a little bit of the connection now? Do you feel any empathy? I'm not trying to equate real life heroes and sheroes with fictional characters of course, but if it helps you to understand a little better in some way, well...I'm throwing it out there.

I myself lived in the Tri-State area at the time of the attacks. I remember seeing the second plane seconds before it crashed into the second building. I remember the devastation I felt watching the first tower collapse knowing that a loved one was most likely inside and how hard I cried thinking he was dead. (thankfully, he had been late to work that day and he got out of the area before the towers came down) I remember the relief and gratefulness we all felt hearing from him to assure us that he was alive when he finally was able to get to a phone, stating he was covered in dust and ash from the buildings. I remember the panic and fear we all felt, thinking the world was ending and we were all going to die, that this was it, this was World War III, after it was confirmed that the Pentagon had also been hit and there was also a downed plane in Pennsylvania. I remember the grief another loved one suffered because she lost her entire floor (she had been out sick that day) and every single one of her co-workers. I remember the race to pick up children from school and get them home as soon as possible. I remember the rage that coursed through us seeing the footage of some people in certain countries celebrating the attacks in the streets, enjoying the deaths of so many Americans, a couple of these countries who lost citizens themselves in these attacks. I remember the camping out in front of the televisions night after night for a week straight afterwards, watching the news 24/7, worrying that there might be more attacks. I remember the feeling of sheer terror anytime a plane was heard overhead or seen appearing low enough in the sky that you could practically make out which airline it was for months afterwards. I remember seeing the lights the first time they were lit from our home. I remember feeling pure fear not only for what happened that day but also what came afterwards (not yet understanding that these weren't practitioners of Islam that did this but radical extremists who had literally hijacked the religion). I remember seeing the devastation at Ground Zero through a tear in the fabric over a fence as we walked through the city months afterwards. I remember not wanting to fly for years. I remember the anger I felt that our government had failed us due to political bs between agencies and countless others (which we found out especially when the 9/11 Commission Report came out) and that because of this horrific and absurd failure, thousands of innocent people had died. I remember seeing the crushed ladder truck, and the toy of the little girl who was on one of the planes at the 9/11 Memorial Museum and all of the pictures in that room that just floored me. (I also remember being pissed off that many were treating it as a selfie op where they were allowed to take pictures, completely missing the point of the museum's existence) But most of all, I remember feeling that life would never be the same for any of us ever again, and that the feeling of safety we had naively enjoyed on September 10, 2001 would never return.

But I also remember the compassion and unity we saw rising in the country after those attacks. I remember the gratitude for all of our first responders, those we lost that day and those who were still with us, actively working to recover those lost and to clear Ground Zero. I remember the feeling of collectiveness, that we all shared grief and showed support to one another in those days afterwards. I remember the fallen heroes and sheroes who ran into those buildings, who were off duty but raced from wherever they were that day to come and help. I remember The Man In the Red Bandana aka Welles Crowther (and many like him who worked to save others) who has become another important symbol of that day. I remember hearing all of the stories of people helping one another before and after the towers collapsed. I remember the good that this day represents. That while we may have seen some of the worst of humanity that day in the form of violence, death, weaponized airplanes, and devastation, we also saw the very best of humanity in the form of our first responders and people helping one another.

Look, did Islamophobia happen? Yes. Was it right? No, absolutely not. As I stated above, I myself feared the idea of the religion until I was educated by a friend of mine about the difference between the religion and extremism. This form of hijacking ideology can be seen in examples like the Westboro Baptist Church or even Hitler. Terrorists do not represent the true spirit of Islam no matter what the former tries to force people to believe. Just as the WBC is not the true spirit of Christianity, and so on and so forth. But even during the time I had feared the religion before gaining understanding and clarity, I never confronted or mistreated any practicing Muslim or Arab-American. Ever. I never posted hate or spewed vitriol against them. Just like with the current pandemic, I still cannot believe there are people out there attack Asian-Americans as if this whole thing is their fault. That's still mind boggling to me and it is absolutely 100% WRONG. It should not be happening. Same with Islamophobia. And it breaks my heart to read that many Arab-Americans and practicing Muslims still worry when this anniversary comes around that they may be attacked. It might not mean much, but I just want to say I am truly sorry for that and you have my full support. Always.

Did we go to war and was it just? Yes we did go to war. Was it just? Afghanistan? I need more information in order to have a fully-formed opinion but there are plenty who say yes and plenty who say no. Plenty who say we made things better over there (before we exited and the Taliban advanced) and plenty who say we didn't and only made it worse. I truly cannot say which assertion is correct and I think it would be narrow-minded and completely moronic (and possibly arrogant and presumptuous?) of me to speak on a subject I know so little about, one way or the other. Iraq? No, I don't think it was just and I honestly wish we could go back and do things differently.

But coming back to 9/11 and what this day means for so many, the people who died, the people who rushed headfirst into danger, the people who lost their loved ones. We saw incredible bravery, selflessness, and compassion for your fellow human that day despite what happened. We saw the strength within ourselves despite the fear and anger. We saw resilience. That is what the anniversary is meant to be a reminder of. The sacrifices, the loss, the courage, and the strength. Black, White, Gay, Straight, Christian, Muslim, Man, Woman, Young, Old -- it didn't matter. We all came together.

So regardless of whether it's the cool thing to do right now on this site (or elsewhere) to hate on America or 9/11 or white Americans or the anniversary itself on the very anniversary of these attacks, I ask that you please consider when posting these hurtful (and frankly harmful) words of hatred and vitriol such as referenced above that there are people out there who lost their loved ones on 9/11, that yes some of them may be on this very site and going through the 9/11 tag, and that some of them may have even lost a loved one in either war and are again on this site reading your words. Regardless of what you think or feel, please consider them and tag appropriately if you're going to post. Please consider that some of these people are currently losing their loved ones due to 9/11-related illnesses because of the cleanup at Ground Zero. Please consider that there are children who lost a parent or loved one, or who were orphaned that day (yes, they exist, we had some in our school district) who are also on this site reading your words. Basically, please just consider and be considerate. Please stop spreading hatred on a day that happened due to hatred; please stop perpetuating that cycle.

Like Martin Luther King Jr. said, "Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that."

TLDR: Love and light, my friends. Love and light. ✌️❤️

#9/11 #never forget #remember 9/11 #9/11 isnt a joke or a meme

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