#honestly you can really tell that its written by a woman whos not overcome with internal misogyny because of how refreshing- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hellsvestibule · 2 years ago

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Ok I’m finally ready to talk abt dobrynya. As an aside of Catgirl nikitich from fgo. And as usual please don’t take me as a authority, if you are really curious look the stories up yourself, there are summaries online but you won’t find all the variants of the tales because some of them are said to have like 50 variations because they are meant to be performed as songs, and when performing them they would often be tweaked to suit the tastes of the individual storytellers. So what you end up w online or when handed out summaries in class is probably just a single condensation of a story which in reality has a whole multitude of variants. so keeping that in mind, what I know of these tales comes from a combo of like, 6th grade mythology, my Ukrainian roommate who grew up w these stories and refreshed me on them, and my scrounging around google for as many translations as I could find. Long post long you are warned

I don’t like dobrynya...

I adooore the Catgirl but I’ve had it out for dobrynya since 6th grade when we first read transcripts of these songs and there was a boy in my class who was super adamant about defending the misogyny in these tales. I even forgot about him before rereading a summary of dobrynya and marinka brought back the memories and I was just like oh yeah! This guy saw some pigeons chilling in a woman’s window and killed them, because he took it as a wanton invitation for sex (#symbolism) and after he antagonized her she pulled a Circe and started turning him into an animal to mess with him, and even brainwashed him into falling in love with her just to hurt him more, so like, yes she is definitely a “bad person” but the story takes for granted that in at least some varients of this tale dobrynya antagonized her first, or even just at its baseline that a woman being a bit whorish deserves to be attacked and have her pets killed and maligned as being in league with the devil. The same w another dobrynya story that starts w his mother telling him not to trample the nests of dragons, which he willfully ignores and so again he antagonizes the dragons by killing their young and they retaliate, and dobrynya is written to be the one in the right.

Fgo chose to make the dragons sympathetic and honestly this felt right to me as someone who found this unnecessarily cruel when reading it. Like. I get it, Dobrynya was written to appeal to a certain type of strong wise male authority trope, and back in the day dragons were symbolic of a specific unambiguous kind of evil (in light of reading about the historical man dobrynya was likely based on though, it compounded my frustration, because the man he’s likely based on sure committed a lot of mass murder under a similar mentality that all opposition had to be stamped out as cruelly as possible) idk for me he just feels very preachy and inconsistently characterized, and while there are plenty of good things underpinning the tales and a lot of my points of contention with him can absolutely be said of Ilya and especially Svyatogor, Svyatogor is written as a sympathetic but overtly evil villain, and at least the preachy things like Ilya overcoming being crippled because he was so good and pious, is based on a real historical priest whose spine showed signs of a deformity having been adjusted, and then like allyosha being the unconventional asshole of the 3 is also the point so while I don’t “like” him he didn’t quite irk me the way dobrynya does at times. dobrynya is the most conventional hero of these stories and the most popular to this day, so his sort of paradoxical personality and insisting he’s such a good pious person just…idk

One thing I do like in his tales is the underlying message that despite him being strong, his physical strength is never really enough on its own. It wasn’t enough to defeat the dragon, he had to pray for mercy and hold his place for 3 days, and almost lost the fight we’re it not for gods intervention. And it wasn’t enough to defeat nastasia, who just laughed and put him in her pocket. By this metric, nastasia is absolutely the unspoken star of these stories for me, because she shows up, looks at this often assumed to be a buff tough guy, goes “you are my poor little meow meow” and like that’s that like he’s married now he has a wife and she could crush him like a little bug anytime thereby rendering his strength completely invalid as a tactic for controlling her, its just really funny tbh, I’ve already admitted I love Svyatogor despite his far more egregious cruelty for similar reasons, there is something about a massive sadistic giant who can’t totally relate to humans just putting a little human in their pocket and being like “this is my anime girlfriend now” and I would read Infinite variants of this.

So the Catgirl dobrynya nastasia hybrid we get in fgo is great to me, although if she’s actually nastasia I wish they’d kept her huge. Bc the thing is, everything mean or irrational dobrynya does is so much funnier when rationalized as coming from a catgirl placeholding his identity. The fact that she is both patient and wise but also stupid and impulsive? Catgirl. The mean petty behavior like killing the birds? She is a cat… On that note, her bond with the dragons and use of the last name nikitich rather than calling herself nastasia does still sort of indicate aspects of this character are based more on marinka than nastasia. For example in one version of the marinka tale dobrynyas brainwashing breaks because she deliberately cheats on him with a dragon in front of him. And nikitich fgos max bond CE seems to be alluding to or making fun of this by flaunting her relationship with zmey as a positive one rather than antagonistic one. Considering her whole gag was marrying dobrynya for the lulz I can’t help but wonder. This reveal would not make me love her any less (plus I do think whoever she is she’s earnest about her love for dobrynya it’s just mixed in w frustration) I like both these women as characters and think that fgo would absolutely make Marinka sympathetic bc the writers understand that women like Circe and Medea are interesting and in the modern day deserve more consideration than to be labeled as irredeemably evil.

That’s sort of just where I’m at w the dude. Fgo endeared me to him a lot more specifically because it’s -not- falling back on the portrayal of him as a big buff strongman who is always right, but playing to the parts of the story where he’s just sort of helpless and sad and overtly dedicated to a cause nobody else really understands, then gets bullied by women who are stronger than him. A guy who has to plow through the depths of despair to find hope and this hope is incarnated as a funny catgirl who displays all the machismo and paternalistic authority and all that but makes it fun and lighthearted bc you fundamentally cannot take her seriously. It captures the spirit of the tale in an earnest way and attempts to rectify what might not sit well with modern audiences, you can criticize that if you want, but fate has been doing this with its heroes by and large all along, so in that case its not a contention that would be unique to dobrynya by any means.

If you do like dobrynya and hate the catgirl like. That’s fine…like especially if you grew up w this tale I’m not here to shit on you for liking him. You’re welcome to challenge me on any point but the thing is you’re probably not going to change my mind, I wrote what I considered to be the positive aspects I took out of his stories up there which are often what get recited when talking about him, and which have even grown on me over time, but for me it never quite washed away the unpleasant taste of the more cruel aspects until fgo just decided to make him the most ridiculous character ever

#also I’m sorry most of these names aren’t capitalized my autocorrect keeps defaulting them to uncapitalized and I’m too lazy to fix #idk I’ll probably regret talking about this but my friends who enjoy that I enjoy dobrynya will like it at least

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rivers-rambles21 · 4 years ago

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The one with the road trip

Part 15 of The one where Bucky has a cute neigbour series!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (f)

Warnings | 18+ only - no smut but mentions of it

Apologies for any mistakes, this has been written on my phone and its a bit difficult to edit. Once I’m back with a working laptop I’ll give it a once over :)

Bucky had intended on renting a bike so you could ride down to Louisiana but with Sam’s suit it would’ve been an impossible feat.

He settled for hiring an SUV and added you both to the insurance so you could take it in turns driving on the long trip down south.

“Been together one day and we’re already on our first trip” You teased as you rested your feet on the dash, taking in the scenery as Bucky drove. His metal hand gripped the steering wheel as he peaked a glance over to your bare legs, resisting the urge to pull over.

“You’re the one having a mid life crisis doll not me” You feigned offense and swatted the soldier beside you, pleased to get a hit in as he tried to dodge your attack. His eyes remained on the road as he grasped your hand in his. “Less of that thank you” He laughed, bringing your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the back before giving it back to rest on your thigh, his hand not leaving yours.

“Looking forward to seeing Sam again?” He didn’t respond but his face said it all. “You’re so dramatic” You chuckled as you leant down to root around in your bag for the road trip snacks. Retrieving a bag of cashews, you offered it to Bucky who gladly took a handful.

“I just know he’s going to ask a billion questions about stuff we’ve not even discussed yet, that we’re probably not even ready to talk about. He didn’t stop asking about you y’know? Y/n this, Y/n that…he kept threatening to ask you out.”

“Oh he did”

The car swerved slightly as Bucky's grip on the wheel tightened, his concentration lapsing for a split second.

“He did what?” He asked, tearing his eyes from the road to glance over at you.

“It was just a bit of harmless flirting-” You began before being cut off.

“We flirted.” Bucky stated, his jaw clenching.

“We also did a lot of things just friends don’t do. Relax Sarge, he only asked to get a reaction out of me.”

Bucky grunted in response, knowing his reaction was a tad over the top but he couldn’t help it. You were his.

“We could always mess with him in return.” You pondered as you took a swig of your drink. “Maybe hold off on telling him about us, it’s only meant to be a flying visit anyway isn’t it? So we wouldn’t have to pretend for long… play him at his own game?”

Bucky smirked in response, completely on board with your little plan.

The next few hours passed with the typical car games and a quick power nap as Bucky continued driving.

“How long until you start at Starks?”

“A month thank god, the GRC wanted me gone pretty quickly, I didn't have to work my notice which was a blessing really. I’ll schedule a day to go and clear out my desk and say my goodbyes. Will you still get your pension if we live out of the country?”

“I’m not sure to be honest, I can pick up work wherever we are though, it wouldn’t be the first time. I’m good with my hands”

“You’re telling me” You muttered under your breath. Bucky heard you loud and clear and let out a laugh as he recalled how you spent most of last night. “Are we crazy? Travelling with no plan, barely any money and only just starting out as a couple?”

“Oh absolutely”

Eventually Bucky took a break from driving after you stopped for food in a roadside diner. It had been a while since you’d driven but you wanted to give Bucky the chance to get some sleep, something you knew he still struggled with.

Despite telling him to try and get some sleep on the back seats, he remained upfront with you, doing his best to battle the drowsiness that had overcome him. He’d not gotten much rest the past few weeks, from battling the Flag Smashers in Europe, to hunting down Zemo and then back to New York. In truth he was worried he’d have a nightmare and wasn’t sure on how he’d react but upon your insistence, he tried to get some shut eye. After an hour or so he dropped off, the sound of you humming along to a song on the radio sending him off into a dreamless sleep.

Bucky couldn’t quite believe it, he couldn’t remember the last time he slept without being haunted by memories of the Winter Soldier. Granted, he only got four hours of sleep , but it was the best he’d felt in a long time.

When it came to your turn to get some shut eye Bucky insisted on stopping over in a hotel for the night. You’d tried to convince him a motel would suffice after you lost the battle of you sleeping in the car but he was victorious.

To be frank, after spending so many hours in the car, you were grateful to be sleeping in a bed with your super soldier by your side.

As you slept, Bucky took the time to fire off a few emails advising he’d be ending his lease. Having slept earlier, he felt energised and was content in browsing the internet as you slept tucked into his arm.

He did his best not to wake you as he opened a selfie from Shuri of her with Ayo and Nomble, a chuckle escaping his lips as Shuri and Nomble looked to be thoroughly enjoying themselves on a boat trip in New York whilst Ayo sulked in the background.

He also replied to an email from his therapist's office, letting them know he’d be absent from his next session but planned on returning the following week.

Bucky was tempted to let Sam know he was coming but thought it best to surprise him.

The next day was much of the same, both of you switching the drive and stopping off at diners for food. Due to the lack of respect Bucky had for the speed limit, you were making good time and would be in Delacroix the following morning.

“-it was like I didn’t exist. Honestly it was the most humbling experience of my life”

“Sergeant Barnes in his uniform… now that is something I’ve got to see.”

“Maybe one day”

Your eyebrow perked at the thought. “Good god man” You groaned dramatically and sank further into your seat, giggling as you caught sight of the blush covering his cheeks. “For what it’s worth, lack of nutrients from the rationing clearly messed with her eyesight.” You were genuinely baffled how Peggy didn’t swoon for the man next to you.

“Where were you in the 40’s when I needed you huh?”

“I doubt I’d have been your type”

“Intelligent, strong woman with a great sense of humor? And thats not even mentioning your ass.. Oh no, definitely not my type” He replied sarcastically.

“Ha ha fine, I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’d have taken you dancing, maybe gone to a show or even the carnival. Anything you wanted.” He took your hand in his again and kissed the back of it as he pondered just how he’d of won you over back then. He usually didn't like to dwell on life before the war, the pain of losing his family and the future he lost was too much but having you in his life somehow made the memories hurt less. Having you with him now along with the future he could picture with you helped him make peace with his past life and accept that it wasn’t something he could ever go back to.

When Steve was returning the stones, he did wonder whether he should go back with him but the realisation that there wasn’t anything waiting for him apart from a time that he didn't belong to made his decision to remain in the present resolute. And by god was he thankful he stayed.

On your way to your final hotel before arriving at Sams, you’d taken over the driving and had kept Bucky entertained with your off key singing and terrible car games.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” As it turns out, Bucky was a sore loser.

“What? It counts!!”

“You cannot see bacteria Y/N”

“Yes I can! It’s right...right… right there!” You pointed to a random bit of the car interior and held back a laugh at a clearly unamused Bucky.

“You’re so full of shit”

“How do you know I can’t see it huh? Guess it’s my turn again, I spy with my little -”

“No” He cut off as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Absolutely not. I’m going to choose a game.”

You let out a little smile and continued focusing on the road until the super soldier landed on something he liked.

“Okay okay, would you rather sounds fun. Doll, would you rather have the superpower of being invisible or ability to fly.”

“Aw come on Buck these are tame! If I have to answer, without a doubt invisibility.”

“Not dirty enough for you sweetheart?” A tingle rang down your spine at your new nickname. “I’d have to agree, invisibility easily.”

“Buck you’re an actual superhero, you’ve already got powers, leave some for us mere mortals!”

“... you think I’m a superhero?”

“....you’re literally an Avenger.” You reached across towards the man beside you, keeping your eyes on the road as you pressed your hand against his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

Bucky rolled his eyes at your sarcasm and swatted your hand away from his head. “Fine you made your point.”

You shook your head as you returned your hand to the steering wheel, tapping away to the song on the radio.

“The rest of these questions are boring” He muttered as he furiously scrolled through his cell.

“C’mon, go R rated”

“It’s no fun when I already know the answers to these!”

“Pfft doubtful, come on, hit me”

“Spit or swallow, you’re a swallower doll.See?”

“Okay okay! You’re right, I give in. How about we just ask each other some questions?”

“But you already know everything,” He remarked, throwing a few cashews into his mouth.

“When did you first see me as someone other than a friend?” You’d thrown him off guard with that question, his hand stuck in mid air as he went to throw more snacks into his mouth.

“Wouldn't you rather know my most embarrassing sexual encounters?” He offered but was met with silence. “Fine……. I’ve never seen you as just a friend. Yes we were friends before we became more and honestly Y/n if it never progressed further than just friendship I would’ve been fine with it, more than fine with it y’know? Meeting you was the best fucking thing-” “Buck, it’s okay” Your hand reached out towards him and squeezed his thigh as you kept your eyes on the road.

“There’s more… before we officially met in the lobby when that creep wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, I’d seen you around. I was coming back from lunch with Yori and he was complaining about having gone for burgers instead of our usual and there you were, headphones in completely oblivious to the world and searching for your keys in your purse as usual. You were just so carefree - everything I wanted to be. And then a couple of days later we met and I was a goner.”

You bit your lip as you fought back a smile, overwhelmed by his honesty. It was a welcome feeling, knowing you weren’t the only one that felt an attraction almost immediately.

“I’d seen you around too, before we officially met I mean. It’s kind of hard to miss you” You chuckled as you snuck a glimpse over at him and found him doing his usual glare. “It was pretty early on for me as well, do you remember when we went for coffee?”

“And you ordered us two cups of sugar? Yeah I remember”

“Mocha Latte’s aren’t bad for you… they just give you a bit of a buzz”

“Especially if you order extra cream…”

“Anyway! I’ve always been attracted to you, I’m not blind y’know but after seeing this dark looming strong man consume a drink like that, and have some residue cream left on his lower lip mind you, I just knew that it was more than just a crush. There’s something oddly charming and attractive about seeing someone so intimidating be so soft. It’s like I’m the only one who gets to see that side of you and I love it”

Bucky didn't quite know what to say, he was slightly flustered at the compliments you were throwing at him and by the knowledge that you’d been interested far earlier than he had ever dreamed of.

“We’re idiots aren’t we? For not realising sooner.”

“Oh without a doubt”

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song-of-oots · 4 years ago

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Fuchsia Groan: my (un)exceptional fave

A while ago a friend of mine was asking for people to name their favourite examples of strong female characters, and my mind immediately leapt to Gormenghast’s Fuchsia Groan because it always does whenever the words “favourite” and “female character” come up in the same sentence. In fact scratch that, if I had to pick only one character to be my official favourite (female or otherwise) it would probably be Fuchsia. There are not sufficient words in the English language to accurately describe how much I love this character.

The issue was that I’m not sure Fuchsia Groan can accurately be described as “strong”, and until my friend asked the question, it hadn’t even occurred to me to analyse her in those terms…

Actually this isn’t completely true; Mervyn Peake does describe Fuchsia as strong in terms of her physical strength on multiple occasions. But in terms of her mental strength things are less clear cut. She’s certainly not a total pushover, and anyone would probably find it tough-going to cope with the neglect, tragedy and misuse she suffers through. In fact, this is something Mervyn Peake mentions himself – whilst also pointing out that Fuchsia is not the most resilient of people:

“There were many causes [to her depression], any one of which might have been alone sufficient to undermine the will of tougher natures than Fuchsia’s.”

Anyway, this has gotten me thinking about Fuchsia’s other traits and my reasons for loving her, going through a typical sort of list of reasons people often give for holding up a character as someone to admire:

So, is Fuchsia particularly talented?

No.

Is she clever, witty?

She’s definitely not completely stupid, and her insights occasionally take other characters by surprise, but she’s not really that smart either.

Does she have any significant achievements? Overcome great adversity?

Not really, no.

Is she kind?

Yes. Fuchsia is a very loving person and sometimes displays an incredible sensitivity and compassion for others. But… she can also be self-absorbed, highly strung, and does occasionally lash out at other people (especially in her younger years).

So why do I love Fuchsia so much?

Well, I’ll start be reiterating that I don’t really have the vocabulary to adequately put it into words, but I will try to get the gist across. So:

“What Fuchsia wanted from a picture was something unexpected. It was as though she enjoyed the artist telling her something quite fresh and new. Something she had never thought of before.”

This statement summarises not only Fuchsia but also the way I feel about her (and for that matter the Gormenghast novels in general). Fuchsia is something I’ve never really seen before. On the surface, she fits the model of the somewhat spoiled but neglected princess, and yet at the same time she cannot be so neatly pigeon-holed. It’s not just that her situation and the themes of the story make things more complex (though that is a factor); Fuchsia herself is so unique and vividly detailed that she manages to be more than her archetype. She feels like a real person and, like all real people, she is not so easy to label.

Fuchsia is also delightfully strange in a way that feels very authentic to her and the setting in general (which is particularly refreshing because it can all too often feel as though female characters are only allowed to be strange in a kooky, sexy way - yet Fuchsia defies this trend).

She’s a Lady, but she’s not ladylike. She’s messy. She slouches, mooches, stomps and stands in awkward positions. Her drawing technique is “vicious” and “uncompromising”. She chews grass. She removes her shoes “without untying the laces by treading on the heels and then working her foot loose”. She’s multi-faceted and psychologically complex. Intense and self-absorbed, sometimes irrational and ruled by her emotions more than is wise, but also capable of insight and good sense that takes others by surprise. She is extremely loving and affectionate, and yet so tragically lonely. Simultaneously very feminine and also not. Her character development from immature teenager to adult woman is both subtle and believable. She has integrity and decency – she doesn’t need to be super clever or articulate to know how to care for others or stand up for herself.

Fuchsia is honest. She knows her own flaws, but you never catch her trying to put on airs or make herself out to be anything other than what she is. She always expresses her feelings honestly.

She’s not sexualised at all. I don’t mean by this that she has no sexuality – though that’s something Peake only vaguely touches on – but I don’t really feel like I’m looking at a character who was written to pander to the male gaze (though her creator is male, I get the vibe he views her more as a beloved daughter than a sexual object).

Finally, I find her highly relatable. I am different to Fuchsia in many ways, but we do have several things in common that I have never seen so vividly expressed in any other character. This was incredibly important to me when I was a teenager struggling through the worst period of depression I ever experienced – because she was someone who I could relate to and love in a way I was incapable of loving myself. Her ability to be herself meant a lot to me as someone struggling with my own identity and sense of inadequacy. It didn’t cure my depression, but it helped me survive it.

What am I trying to say with all this?

I love Fuchsia on multiple levels. I love her as a person and also as a character and a remarkable piece of writing. I mention some of the mundane details Peake uses to flesh out her character firstly because I enjoy them, but also because it’s part of the point. Her story amazes me because it treats a female character and her psychological and emotional life with an intense amount of interest regardless of any special talents or achievements she happens to exhibit. She doesn’t fit the model of a modern heroine but neither does she need to – she’s still worth spending time with and caring about.* To me the most important things about Fuchsia are how different and interesting and relatable she is – and how real she feels.

* To be honest, this is part of the point of the Gormenghast novels in general. The story is meant to illustrate the damage that society – and in particular rigid social structures and customs – can do to individuals with its callous indifference to genuine human need. Fuchsia is one of many examples of this throughout the novels. These characters don’t need to be exceptionally heroic in order to matter – they just need to exist as believable people. And despite how strange they all are, they often do manage to be fundamentally relatable.

Why am I talking about female characters in particular here?

The focus on “strong” female characters and the critique against that is pretty widely acknowledged. Growing up, I definitely noticed the lack of female characters in popular media and the ensuing pressure this then places on the ones that do exist to be positive representations of womankind – someone girls can look up to. It’s very understandable that we want to see more examples of admirable female protagonists, given that women were traditionally left to play support roles and tired stereotypes. The problem is that the appetite for more proactive female heroines can sometimes lead to characters who are role models first and realistic human beings second (characters who I mentally refer to as Tick-All-The-Boxes Heroines). It’s not a problem with “strong” proactive heroines per se, but rather lack of variation and genuine psychological depth (not to mention a sometimes too-narrow concept of what it even means to be strong).

Male characters tend not to have this particular problem because they are much better represented across the whole range of roles within a story. You get your fair share of boring worn out archetypes. You get characters who are meant to represent a positive version of heroic masculinity (and now that I come to think of it, having a very narrow and unvarying presentation of what positive masculinity looks like is its own separate problem, but outside the scope of this particular ramble). We don’t usually spend time obsessing over whether a piece of fiction has enough examples of “strong” male characters though, because we’re generally so used to seeing it that we automatically move on into analysing the work and the characters on other terms. And because there are often more male characters than female, they don’t all bear the burden of having to be a positive representative of all men everywhere. They exist to fulfill their roles, and often exhibit more variety, nuance and psychological depth. They are also often allowed to be weird, flawed and unattractive in ways that women usually aren’t (which is a damn shame because I’ve spent my whole life feeling like a weird outsider and yet this perspective is so often told primarily through a male lens).

Tl:dr; Fuchsia Groan is a character who feels like an answer to so many of those frustrations that I felt growing up without even truly understanding why. A large part of why I love her is simply because of how much I relate to her on a personal level. I admire her emotional honesty and her loving nature… But there’s also a part of me that was just so relieved to find a female character who exists outside of the usual formulae we seem to cram women into. She is unique, weird and wonderful (but non-sexualised). Psychologically nuanced and vividly written. She isn’t exceptionally heroic or talented or a high achiever – but she does feel like a real person.

Female characters don’t need to tick all the right boxes in order to be interesting or worth our time any more than the male ones do.

#fuchsia groan #gormenghast #mervyn peake #female characters #mental health #depression #long

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bluephoenixdruidicprincess · 3 years ago

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Hi, I'm working on a SPN fanfic right now and I was hoping I could get some character ideas from you. It's a destiel fanfic-I know you don't ship them anymore but I'm kind of stuck on what to do with John? I want him in the story because I love Jeffrey Dean Morgan and the way he plays Dean but I also don't want to write him in a repetitive way, I want to do the character justice and not make him all cringe. Got any ideas?

Hi! Yes, I'd be more than happy to give you some advice.

To me, John Winchester is such a fun character to write, full of angst ripe for the picking with Sam and Dean, ya know? And Jeffrey does such a good job bringing the character to life, I just hate reading fics where the the writers just make him the cringey, abusive, alcoholic, homophobic father, the obstacle needed to overcome for Destiel (or whatever ship) to truly be together, you know? I'm not saying that we shouldn't use the abusive parent trope in coming out stories because obviously those family dynamics exist in real life so of course many who have suffered through that trauma want to write about it to work through it and I do not begrudge them at all for that. But, the trope is overplayed and typically there isn't a whole lot of nuance to it so its kind of boring to read about all of the time, and when something gets boring, it gets cringey.

So my advice if this story you're writing is going to have some sort of coming out story feat. John Winchester aka Abusive/Homophobic Father of the Year, then try to add a little bit more nuance to it to give it a freshness so it doesn't feel so overplayed to your readers. No one likes carboard cut outs of characters, they want characters not caricatures (at least that's I want but you know depending on your audience, maybe they're ok with caricatures as long as they get their fanservice). So definitely, if you can, try and dive a little more deeply into the psyche of John Winchester. Really analyze his emotions, his motivations, his reasonings for why he does the things he does. If he's gonna be abusive and homophobic, think about why is he really those things? Is he abusive because he can't look at his kids because they remind him of Mary? Is this his own way of protecting them? Is he homophobic because he's a product of his time? Or is there a deeper reason behind it? Is it a means of protecting his sons from the harshness and brutality of living that life? Because while it is freeing and liberating to come out and truly be able to be yourself, sadly, the world is filled with bigots that won't see it that way, that are threatened by it and will enact violence because of their bigotry.

Me personally, if I were to ever write for John Winchester, I'd choose to stay away from the abusive, alcoholic, homophobic angle that so much of the fandom likes to depict him as. Like I said before, its overdone, boring, and cringey. And truth be told, I've never jumped on the band wagon of hating John Winchester. Honestly, when I rewatch Season 1, the episodes featuring him are always so enjoyable to me because he's so interesting. Sure, he's terrible for his sons, but digging into his motivations and how he thinks, in his own twisted mind, he means well and he's genuinely thinking that these means are what's going to keep his boys safe. So I don't know, if I were to write a coming out story whether it be destiel or sastiel, I'd kind of like to depict John as being supportive of his son coming out because there is an aspect of his personality there that does treasure his boys. Sure, it doesn't negate that he's a terrible father who has treated his children abysmally but everything that he's done in the show, it's never screamed at me that he's homophobic. I'm sure some Dean Winchester stans will come at me, get up on their soap box and try to tell me that we can gather that John Winchester was homophobic because of Dean's own homophobia and repressed feelings towards men, how he womanizes and fetishizes women, etc. He learned it from John. Or maybe, just maybe, John Winchester was not around a whole lot and Dean watched a lot of macho cop shows and things of that nature whilst spending endless hours cooped up in a hotel room. Or Dean Winchester actually is straight, I know horror of horrors for me to suggest something like that and I'm not really here to make an argument on that. If you want to yell at me and tell me all of the reasons why Dean Winchester isn't straight, don't bother because I don't care. SPN is done and over with and we all now have the freedom to characterize Dean however the fuck we want and we need to stop getting into such heated arguments about this. If you see Dean has a repressed homosexual, great I totally see how you would see that so you should write about it, I don't have a problem with it. But I also don't have a problem with him being characterized as straight either. I have written Dean as straight before and I've also written him as LGBT as well. I'm not more partial to any reading of his sexuality really, he's never been a favorite character of mine, most of the time I have to really fight my own dislike of him to even find him palatable. If I think of a story and I want to include him in said story, I'll characterize him in whichever way befits the story I'm writing. But the point is, in regards to John Winchester, I kind of went on a tangent there, but what I'm essentially getting at is John can be abusive, he can be alcoholic, but I would also find it interesting if amongst those things he was supportive of his sons' sexuality or at the very least apathetic to it.

But anyway, those are my thoughts/advice. Hopefully it helps and good luck on your story. If you post it on Tumblr, be sure to tag me, I'd love to read it.

#john winchester #anti dean winchester #critical dean winchester #i'm just going to use the dean anti and critical tags just because I dont want a whole lot of dean stans up my ass

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alightwhendarknessfell · 4 years ago

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Album Review: From Filth And Dust - Lilith Czar

First of all, I'd like to say that this album completely blew me away. From Filth And Dust perfectly showcases Lilith's (formerly known as Juliet Simms) vocal abilities and songwriting skills. The lyrics are meaningful, witty, and raw with emotion. The vocals are clean with just the right amount of grit and pair beautifully with the instrumentals. The album tells the story of a woman who has been through hell and back, who has fought battles both external and internal. The sound is pure rock n' roll. It's not a passive album. You can't help but sing along, experiencing all the emotions the songs pack in.

The album cover, music videos, name change, and new look all work perfectly to create a stand-out album in Czar's discography.

Song Breakdown

Intro Poem: I'm a huge fan of albums with intro tracks. I think if done correctly they can really add a lot to an album and set the tone. I really liked this intro, the transition into Feed My Chaos is phenomenal. It does a good job introducing Lilith and the overarching thems of the album.

Feed My Chaos: Easily one of my favorites on the album, this song is, for lack of better words, badass. One of the heavier tracks, it's loud and in your face with hypnotizing vocals. I think this was the perfect full-length track to start the album off with.

King: The message of this song is exactly what the world needs. The lyrics are powerful and meant to ruffle the feathers of any man who thinks women should shut up and stay in their place. The first time I heard this song I remember thinking "wow, that's exactly how I feel". I hate that we live in a world that is male-dominated, where there is an innate privilege in existing in a body that is seen as "male". If that's the way the world is, then I'm not okay just being a "queen" still subservient to a man. I want to be king, equal power, and equal respect. This song perfectly captures that feeling.

Anarchy: Another one of my favorites, I'm a big fan of political songs and messages in rock. The beat of this song and vocals are top-notch. After the past four years of political insanity and the deliberateness in which the rights of oppressed communities were targeted, this song is cathartic. The end of the song really puts the exclamation point on this track; shots, sirens, and a man's voice over a loudspeaker can be heard in the background. It made me think back to last Summer and the volatile state the country was in. Very nice touch to the song.

100 Little Deaths: Another strong rock track, this is a song easily chanted from the top of your lungs driving down the highway. The message of overcoming your personal struggles is an inspiring one. I also think its placement before the next song, 'Lola' was a great choice. The messages flow together quite well and I like the dichotomy of such a hyped-up song being followed by a slower emotional one.

Lola: This song has grown on me a lot, and I really like it. There is raw emotion in Czar's voice which easily takes center place in this track. It'll have you on the brink of tears but also ready to rise up and sing your heart out. Anyone who's ever hit rock bottom and had to fight to find themself again can relate. The is one of the most open tracks on the album and I think that's what makes it so impactful. One of my favorite lyrics from the album is in this song "Time flies by when you're 25 n' about to die"

Edge of Seventeen: Stevie Nick's fan or not, I think everyone has heard this song. There's a risk that comes with covering an iconic and beloved song, and it really paid off for Czar. This is an amazing cover, her voice fits this song very well.

Bad Love: Another one of my favorites, this song is a masterpiece. It's sultry, exciting, and catchy as fuck. The song speeds up on the chorus and then slows back down for the verses; a rollercoaster that you'll have on repeat for days.

In My Head: When this song started I thought "I'm either going to really, really like this song or hate it". It did not disappoint at all. Clearly a song about fighting the demons in well... "in my head". As someone who struggles with mental health and my own thoughts this song hits home. Lyrically this is probably my favorite song as well, I mean "It gets me off like nothing else, no one fucks me like myself" come on, that's just a fucking cool line.

Unholy: Fuck... I love this song. When I saw the title for this track I had really high expectations because I love rock songs that use religious symbolism with just the right amount of blasphemy. This song gave me everything I wanted from it. I've had it on repeat all day. It's a tie between this song and the next for my #1 favorite on the album.

Burn With Me: This song reminds me of Automatic Love Letter (her old band). I love the sound of this song and the lyrics. This is my type of love song for sure. You can't help but dance around the room while singing along. Czar shows off her vocal abilities and control over her voice, hitting notes that make you go "damn- how the fuck did she do that?!?!".

Diamonds to Dust: The perfect closing song, a slower acoustic track that sums the album up and leaves you wanting more. You can literally hear the emotions in Czar's voice, and like Lola, it's a very raw track. Amazingly well done.

I rarely find albums in which I like all of the songs, but this is one of them. None of the songs feel rushed or unfinished, incredibly well done. Anyone who's written Lilith off before should honestly give this album a listen and let it speak for itself. She's an incredibly talented singer, songwriter, and musician and this album is proof of that. I've unfairly judged her and her music in the past, and I'm so glad I decided to give her and her music another chance. I believe in the message of this album and women supporting women. I can honestly say that I love this album and I highly recommend it.

Total rate: 9/10

Top tracks (in my opinion): Unholy, Burn With Me, Bad Love, Lola

#lilith czar #juliet simms #from filth and dust #album review #rock music #sumerian records

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danganronpa-21 · 4 years ago

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Naegiri Week Day 4 - Rain

I can barely believe that it’s Day 4 already. Also that I’m on time for this one, because I didn’t think I was going to be. It’s a welcome surprise! This particular piece is much more of an angst/whump piece, but there’s still a bit of sweetness attached to it. 2020 is just the year of angsty Makoto, I guess! Anyway, I hope you like it! Feel free to let me know what you think.

Oh, and please keep in mind that this does contain some rather graphic depictions of death and violence. Be sure to play on the safe side if that’s not your thing. Thank you so much for your time and attention!

______________________________________

Makoto was about to shower for the first time in four years.

Of course, that wasn’t to say that the man never bathed – quite the opposite, really. He tended to bathe rather frequently; it was just way he did it that changed the conversation. After all, taking baths was still apart of good hygiene. It was just widely regarded as less convenient to bathe that way. What was a man to do? There was something about standing under the showerhead, watching the water bead onto the tile and slowly roll away… Something about it just made his skin crawl.

Well, perhaps it was wrong to say “something” when he was well aware of the cause. Four years since the School Life of Mutual Killing, and the image of her never left his mind. Sweet, beautiful Sayaka with a fractured wrist and a knife plunged into her stomach, blood pooling all over her belly and lap. Her eyes shut in a way that could not possibly have looked peaceful even if he wanted it to. Her last message to him written across the wall in disjoined letters – a final plea for him to try and survive. She’d signed her death warrant, yet she refused to sign off on his as well. Kyoko told him that he should take some comfort in that, but it was a comfort he could only half-hold. In truth, try as she might, there was nothing that Kyoko could tell him to take away that pain.

That was why he was where he was, actually. Kyoko’s inability to remedy his pain. He’d been trying for ages now to counteract the thoughts and feelings associated with the shower, but none of his attempts bore fruit. Even Kyoko’s strategies, helpful as they usually were, did little to assist him. At this point, she could only hope to support him through his struggle. So, when he came to the decision to finally step foot in the shower once more, she did as she always did – supported him as best she could.

Some would find it weird that a couple who had only recently started having sex would so readily strip down to nothingness and jump into the shower together, but neither he nor his wife found this to be a situation way out of their comfort zone. It wasn’t like the situation would be overtly sexual in any way, shape, or form. They would just be two people like any other, showering in each other’s presence. That was it.

Still, Makoto wondered if perhaps it was pent-up awkwardness that made his hands tremble as he moved to lift his shirt off over his head, or if shower nerves were getting the best of him. He would always feel flustered at the sight of his wife completely undressed, but this felt like so much more. Within seconds he his throat started to dry up, and his heart picked up its pace. God, he wondered if this was a good idea. It had seemed like one at the time, but now he knew he had second thoughts.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

It was like Kyoko sensed his anxiety without him having to lend his voice to it. It was almost funny that even after all that time together, he still found himself surprised by her ability to read him. She did still insist on referring to him as “Mr. Open Book”; she’d just also begun to refer to herself as “Mrs. Open Book”. Not that that was true, but he appreciated her joke about their marriage nonetheless. Her playfulness brought him respite.

“Honestly… no,” he answered, pushing a hand through his hair, “I don’t know what’s going to happen if I do, but I don’t want to keep avoiding it like this.”

Kyoko frowned. “What’s the problem with not showering? There’s nothing wrong with you only taking baths. Regardless, you still emerge cleaner than you were when you entered.”

His shoulders rose and fell lazily; his eyes drifting towards the shower. The thing looked so innocent just sitting there, the glass pane cracked open ever so slightly to reveal the silver mechanisms inside. They looked so pristine and nice in there, glittering with a shine that proved how recently Kyoko cleaned the faucets and spout. The whole structure appeared so unintimidating; he felt foolish for even being frightened of it.

“It’s a personal thing, I guess.”

His wife’s arms crossed her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Makoto gripped his arm tightly, his nails digging into the skin. He knew better than to grab at himself like that, but confessing to his pain was next to unbearable. Even talking about it threatened to send him spiralling. “Just that I think this is something I need to lay to rest. Not just for me, but for Maizono-san, too. I want her to be able to sleep peacefully…”

Her expression softened like well-loved leather. “Always thinking of others, Makoto. You really are the kindest person I’ve ever met,” She murmured, reaching over to cup his cheek with her hand, “Still. Are you sure that this is how you can help her? Maizono-san wouldn’t want you to do anything that might cause you to hurt yourself.”

“If there’s some other way to help her, I don’t know of it.” Makoto mumbled awkwardly, leaning his face into Kyoko’s hand. It was sort of strange feeling her hand on his face; without her gloves her hands seemed so much rougher than he was used to. Not that he minded any. In a way, he almost liked that Kyoko’s hands were like that. It made her touch easy to distinguish from everyone else’s, and made him a lot more comfortable knowing that she was right there at his side. The only situation in which he’d ever want her hands to change was if that was what she wanted. “I think this is the only way I can really go about it.”

Kyoko nodded thoughtfully, a half-smile playing at her face. “If you’re certain. Still, I ask that you let me know if we need to put an end to it. You know I’ll be swift in putting an end to the exercise.”

“Of course.”

With that, the two separated once more, both of them moving to continue to do away with their clothing. It didn’t take them long to strip down to nothingness, feeling the cool autumn air hitting their bare skin. For both of their sakes, Makoto tried to make not too much unnecessary eye contact. Kyoko seemed to care much less about it. When they were done, Kyoko took his hand, and guided him towards the shower. Sweat coated Makoto’s palms immediately as they made the venture forth to the silver beast; his body suddenly feeling much too cold for his liking. Part of him wanted to run over and snag his clothes, put them all back on, and tell her that he didn’t want to do this after all. It would certainly be a lot easier than confronting his fears. Still, could he really convince himself to give up on his task when he was this close? He should award himself more faith than that, after all. Like trying a new food, there was no sense in giving up before the flavour hit. As frightened as he was, he wanted to at least try to bear it.

Unfortunately, his desire to soldier through didn’t stop his body from reacting to the stressors. He practically jumped out of his skin the moment Kyoko turned the faucet; he’d always hated the low rumbling the shower made when it roared to life. It had been a while since he was close enough to hear it, but now that he was… he was suddenly reminded of how awful it was.

“Are you okay, Makoto?” Kyoko asked, turning her head back to look at him. Her face looked so innocent as she blinked at him, her brows knitting themselves together ever so slightly. Her obvious worry made his stomach twist. How could he be so determined to overcome his fear if it concerned the woman he loved so greatly?

Attempting to swallow around the lump in his throat, Makoto nodded. “Just got a little surprised by the sound, that’s all… We’ve got to wait for it to warm up, right?”

She bit her lip, taking one long look at his expression. Without even having to use her words or much expression, he could tell she didn’t believe him. “Yes. It should warm up fairly quickly, though. We’ll be able to step in soon.”

“Good, good…”

It was not good. Not that he was going to tell Kyoko that.

Anxiety spun his head like a vinyl record; he fought to keep his belly from churning. God, he just wanted to get this over with. Be a hero, conquer his fears, and then curl up in bed with his wife and snuggle her until his limbs stopped shaking. Every passing second was agonizing. He honestly felt as if he could cry when she told him that the water was finally warm enough.

“Do you want me to go in first?”

“It would probably make me feel a bit better if you did… Just like… take me by the hand and guide me in, please.”

She smiled at him as genuinely as she could manage, her worry still seeping through ever so slightly. “I can do that.”

He breathed a silent prayer as Kyoko’s hand found his own, slowly guiding him towards the shower. He couldn’t stop himself from squeezing his eyes shut, letting himself be lured into the trap by his lover. The moment the water hit him, he let out a gasp. Desperate to stay grounded, he found himself squeezing Kyoko’s hand for dear life. She took such care to ensure that the shower rain wouldn’t be too hot, yet it scalded his skin as he tried to adjust to the feeling. He almost cried out the moment it collided with him. The sensation could be compared to freshly boiled water being poured down his spine.

“Just breathe,” she spoke so softly he almost missed it, her hand rubbing against his back to try and comfort him, “It’ll be okay.”

It’ll be okay, he repeated to himself. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.

Adrenaline hit him in a crashing wave. It was as if a bubble had burst in his brain, soaking his entire being in paralyzing fear. Every part of his body suddenly seemed full of… something. What it was, he didn’t know. He only knew that he could feel it somewhere within himself, accompanied by a shooting pain somewhere in his chest. If he hadn’t known what the symptoms were like, he would have assumed that he was going to faint. This definitely wasn’t fainting, though. It was… something else entirely.

All he could see was red. Red streaked on cold grey tile; the liquid having lost its warmth after spillage. A knife plunged into the depths of Sayaka’s belly, diving past her uniform and the protective layer of skin and muscle. How far did it pierce her stomach, one couldn’t help but wonder? How long was she in pain? Did she lay there bleeding out, praying that someone would come and rescue her? There were tear tracks on her face when they found her. She’d cried in pain. She’d sat there writhing in it, bleeding out – five minutes of bleeding out, Kyoko told him – with nobody to soothe her.

He left her behind to die like that. He’d left her to die like that because he was too stupid to think about what she intended to do. If he’d stopped her, she’d still be alive. If he’d been smarter, or braver, or nicer, everything would have worked out for her. She’d have stood on Kyoko’s side at their wedding, hair curled and adorned in purple flowers. She would be positioned next to Aoi, looking absolutely beautiful in the soft material of her lavender dress. The gown would hug her curves in a way that would surely have made Leon talk, but she still wouldn’t be the most radiant woman in the room. He could picture the smile she’d give from where she was standing, silently wishing him a lifetime of happiness with the love of his life. She’d have been there. She’d have protected him from the harm of the shower’s rain, slicing through his skin like a blistering razor.

“Makoto!”

The image persisted behind his eyes, but the sound proved he could make out his own world. Sayaka’s death played on continuous loop like a movie; none of what was happening was real anymore. Water droplets having completed their race were not the same as Sayaka’s blood; there was no reason to see it as such. The grey tile had not been scrubbed white; it was the tile of his own home. The voice calling out to him was not his own frozen in a hellish scream; it was Kyoko’s. Shame seeped into his bones. Go away, he pleaded, I’m begging you to go away.

Without any choice, his legs gave out, sending him falling to the floor. His knees would surely be bruised the next day.

Kyoko didn’t kneel down to his level, not at first. Her hand instead went darting for the faucet, twisting it off as soon as she could. Only a twinge of relief washed over him as the pitiful rain dribbled to a stop, leaving him and Kyoko to bask in the new found silence. It made Makoto acutely aware of how sharp his breaths had become, with his body struggling to gather some sort of relief. He squeezed his eyes shut. Oh, how he prayed the darkness would swallow him whole to make this pain stop.

He barely noticed when Kyoko knelt down on the floor, placing a gentle hand on his back. It wasn’t until her rough hand made contact against his skin… It wasn’t until that moment that he found himself anywhere close to okay. Oh god, he hoped she knew how much that meant. Even with his mind persisting at that image of Sayaka, the contact healed him like an EpiPen.

“You’re experiencing a flashback, Makoto,” she murmured softly, tracing loops on his back. How could she sound so steady at a time like this? Jealousy at her coolness pricked him. What he wouldn’t give to experience it anywhere but between images of Sayaka, blood leaking from the side of her mouth.

“Sayaka’s dead,” was all he could utter. No “help me”, no “hold me”, no “I need you to do this for me” … Just an admission that his dear friend was very much dead.

“She died, but she didn’t die here. It was years ago, Makoto.” The circles she drew between his shoulder blades slowed down. She hoped for him to focus on the sense of touch. “You remember that, don’t you? And you remember that you didn’t have any control over what happened to her. She didn’t blame you for what happened.”

He didn’t answer. Just kept staring aimlessly at the tile, wishing it would be the way he remembered it. The way it looked when Kyoko had just finished taking a shower. God, he’d have done anything to be able to breathe in the scent of her cherry blossom shampoo, rather than the vague stench of copper.

“Do you feel my hand on your back, Makoto?”

He licked his lips, blinking slowly. “I do.”

“It’s rough, isn’t it?”

“Very.” He muttered.

“Just try to focus on that roughness as my finger moves. You can feel me there, can’t you?”

“Yeah, I can.”

“Good,” she outstretched her other hand so he could see it, her golden wedding band flickering at him, “Now look at the other. It’s kind of funny-looking, isn’t it?”

“Like hamburger meat.” He murmured, not thinking about how that might insult her. His mind was too far into its loop to consider it. His body trembled as he tried to ground himself there on the tile; nausea prodding at him to have its way.

To his surprise, Kyoko laughed. Not a full, hearty laugh like he could usually stir from her – but a laugh nonetheless. “I suppose it does sort of look like that. What I want you to focus on, though, is the colours. How many different colours can you pick out when you look at my hands? Remember, undertones count too.”

His eyes wandered across her hand, observing it carefully. Naturally, red was the first colour that came to his mind. Red like blood, red like fire, red like a poisonous animal. The red on Kyoko’s hand was an inky layer sandwiched between lighter and darker hues, skirting about midway along her palm, it danced so close to her knuckles. From there, the colours faded into a deeper crimson, then to a brown, until finally they reached a blackened shade at the tips of her fingers. It was only below the streak of red that he could see pink, like apple snail eggs. So close to being warm and rosy, but a sign of damage nevertheless.

“There’s… red, and brown, and pink… black, crimson…”

“Crimson? It sounds like you’re getting a little excited with your colour comparisons there. Good for you. Just keep listing the ones that come to mind.”

“Um… I guess there’s a bit of umber in there… maybe some charcoal?”

She nodded. “Good. Now, do you know what day it is?”

Makoto blinked once. Twice. Three times. His breaths still felt much too laborious, but in a way, he felt like things were almost getting clearer. Like he’d been freed from suffocation in ash. “It’s… the tenth of September, right? Autumn?”

The circles continued as she cracked a small smile. “Good, good. Now can you rub your hands together for me? I want to get you a towel to dry off with. It will keep you warm while I do.”

Once again, he didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at her, just nodded and started rubbing his hands together for friction. He couldn’t bring his eyes to follow her as she pushed herself to her feet and strode out of the shower, tugging his fluffy white towel off the rack. Focus rested on the heat generating between his hands, he almost didn’t notice when she returned and draped it over his shoulders. His movement screeched to a halt the moment it connected with his body; god was it a soft towel. Taking hold of both corners, he pulled it over himself as much as he could manage. They definitely needed to keep buying whatever fabric softener they were currently using.

Kyoko slowly lowered herself to sit at his side once more, returning her hand to the same position it had been on his back. It was true to say that he could no longer enjoy her rough skin against his own, but the pressure of her presence still made him a bit renewed.

“Are you okay, Makoto?” Though he couldn’t find the energy to meet her face, the concern coated her voice. It wasn’t difficult to picture her lowered brows; her mouth curved into a hesitant grin in hopes of offering solace.

His shoulders quirked, and he leaned himself into her. By now she must have known how badly he needed her; he figured she wouldn’t mind if he cuddled up. Touch always rejuvenated him when he grew melancholic or distressed. Hers, especially, brought him a comfort unlike any other. “Honestly… no. I’m not.”

Kyoko scooted closer to him, and pushed his head so that it would rest on his shoulder. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“No,” the answer came much faster than expected, “Not right now, anyway.”

“That’s fine. I don’t expect you to be okay. We can talk whenever you would like,” she paused for but a moment, carefully scrutinizing his face, “Is there anything I can do?”

“I don’t think so.”

He could tell she was frowning now. “That’s a shame.”

Makoto quirked his shoulders once more. “It’s okay. You’re already doing everything you can, and I appreciate that. All I really need right now is your company.”

Cautiously turning her head towards his, she pressed a kiss against his head. Her hand rested on the top of it, stroking his hair ever so gently. A miniscule happiness swelled within him at the sensation. He was a lucky man, who had a woman who cared about him so much. “I think I can manage that.”

Though it was hard, he did everything he could to push a smile. It must have been awfully weak, but he hoped she could appreciate it nonetheless. “Thank you, Kyoko… I love you.”

“I love you, too. And I’m here for you anytime.”

“Shower or no shower?” He joked, chuckling half-heartedly.

“Shower or no shower. I’ll love you, always.”

#naegiri2020 #danganronpa #naegiri #danganronpa 3 #kyoko kirigiri #makoto naegi #makoto x kyoko #naegi x kirigiri #kyouko kirigiri #naegi makoto #kirigiri kyoko

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keyofjetwolf · 4 years ago

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Hi would you like some rage about She-Ra season 5?

If the answer is no, please don’t click below. For real. Really for real. I’m not looking to piss in anyone’s Cheerios. I think if you were satisfied (or better!) with the show, that’s fantastic and I envy you. As I have always said, love what you love. My opinion is mine and means precisely nothing beyond that. If you think you may be even a little bummed reading about how someone didn’t like it, skip this post and go on with your day, I promise you’re not missing anything worthwhile.

IN A SIMILAR VEIN: If -- before, during, or after reading -- you feel inclined to argue with me, I am begging you to please not. I cannot begin to tell you how much I don’t want to be argued with on this right now. I’m still extremely disappointed and cranky, and I’m not much in the mood to have a measured, reasoned debate about my feelings. Much as my opinion has no bearing on you, your opinion has no bearing on me, and as I’m giving you the option to opt out, I’d appreciate the same courtesy. If you want to write your own post on your own blog, go nuts! Just please leave me out of it. I PREFER TO BE CRANKY AT TELEVISION SHOWS THAN PEOPLE.

The rest of you, come on down. I don’t promise coherency, but I DO promise a lot of stuff said in all-caps!

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Hello! Thank you for joining me! We watched the remaining few episodes of She-Ra last night! I hated them! Yaaay!

What did I hate? OH HO HO MANY THINGS FRIENDS MANY THINGS. It’s not just stuff from the final couple of episodes either, I want to clarify. It’s the entire final season, settling on last few episodes like the freshly fallen snow on your front lawn that some frat boys decide to pee their names into. By the time we’d gotten to these last episodes, there was really nothing left for me but confirmation of all the shit I’d come to hate. SO THANKS I GUESS FOR PROVING ME RIGHT

Which isn’t to say there was nothing to enjoy in the final episodes! There was!

5. She-Ra’s Triceps. GET BUFF GIRL. I LOVE how Adora and She-Ra look similar, but very much not identical. Adora’s no slouch when it comes to physical stuff, but they go the extra mile to show us how She-Ra is that much more. HOW RARELY DO YOU GET TO SEE A WOMAN WITH MUSCLES. I’ve been nothing but impressed by the ways the show drew the line between Adora and She-Ra, and however I felt about its handling of other elements, it didn’t let me down here.

4. Sometimes A Family Is A Twink, A Lizard, And Their Imp Baby. I don’t have further commentary on this, and I need none.

3. Welcome Home, Daddy. THIS WAS SO SPECTACULAR. Glimmer had, I would argue, the most realized arc in the story. It was so gratifying to see this as a culmination, not just of her own struggle with her magical power and ability to harness it, but her willingness to do what needs doing, however personally difficult. That was a stumbling point Angelica could never overcome, continually trying to micromanage and protect Glimmer rather than trusting her and recognizing her for the asset she was. Also though, more succinctly: YESSSS BITCH

2. A Shanty! THIS WHOLE SCENE WAS PERFECT NO NOTES. Just the right blend of silly and sincere, a genuine delight as even brainwashed Mermista had had enough of Sea Hawk’s shit, AND so much more clever than it seemed at first glance. THIS IS THE ONLY VALID HETEROSEXUAL RELATIONSHIP IN SHE-RA I AM NOT TAKING QUESTIONS AT THIS TIME

1. Shadow Weaver. SHADOW FUCKING WEAVER. What a complicated, fascinating character, bar none the most interesting in the entire series. I do think they pulled their punch right at the very end with her, but I AM capable of remembering I’m watching a kid’s show, so I can only get so disappointed about it. Mostly, she remained a beautifully morally complex character, and she was one of my greatest personal delights from beginning to end*.

(*) Boy did this show have one single solution for mommy issues though.

THAT WAS ABOUT IT. So let’s get to why we’re all really here, and that is MY SCREAMING OH MY GOD WHERE DO I BEGIN

Nah, I know exactly where to begin.

GLIMMER AND BO JESUS MCTRISKET I AM GOING TO EXPLODE AND SHOWER THE UNIVERSE IN THE SHRAPNEL OF MY HATE

WHY IS THIS HAPPENING

WHERE DID IT COME FROM

HOW CAN I SHOVE IT BACK IN THE HATEFUL SPEWHOLE THAT SIRED THIS BULLSHIT

WHY WHY IS THIS HERE WHY IS THIS IN MY FACE WHERE MY EYES HAVE TO SEE IT FUCK ME SIDEWAYS THIS IS THE MOST UNNECESSARY SHOEHORNED IN HET ROMANCE FUCK A DOODLE NONSENSE I HAVE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE TO BEAR WITNESS WHAT IS IT DOING IN THIS OTHERWISE EXPONENTIALLY GAY CARTOON

WERE YOU PANDERING TO THE STRAIGHTS

WHY ARE YOU PANDERING TO THE STRAIGHTS I ASSURE YOU WE ARE COVERED BOTH HISTORICALLY AND FICTIONALLY

ALSO NEED I REMIND YOU THAT YOU HAVE ALREADY ACHIEVED HETEROSEXUAL PERFECTION

NO MERMISTA NO WE ARE NOT ALL JUST LIKE OKAY WITH THIS

Oh my FUCKSTICKS, I could’ve rolled with so much more that angers/disappoints me about She-Ra’s ending if every single thing I feared about this hadn’t proved true.

AND. IT. WAS. SO. UNNECESSARY.

What exactly did pairing off Glimmer and Bo do for the story? For their characters? THIS IS THE PART THAT’S STABBING ME IN THE DELICATE WEBBING OF MY TOES. Because -- COME WITH ME A MOMENT SWEET ANGELS -- because I was under the impression that, oohhhh, I dunno, FRIENDSHIP WAS A HUGE FUCKING IMPORTANT PART OF THIS PASTEL HELLSCAPE

Is it, She-Ra? IS IT REALLY???? When not one but BOTH of your childhood friendship pairings end in romance? When you close out your five seasons with romantic relationships so painfully and specifically sown across the character landscape like an overzealous gardener turned loose on the world?

You know what you have at the end? DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID

THIS ISN’T A BEST FRIENDS SQUAD IT’S A DOUBLE DATE THAT NEVER MERCIFULLY ENDS

And again I ask, Why?? What was it about Glimmer and Bo’s relationship that needed them to become romantic? What was LACKING that this was the solution?

THIS IS WHAT MAKES ME LOSE MY GODDAMN SHITTING MIND I AM SO FUCKING DONE WITH THIS INSIPID MYOPIC TRASHBAG OF A CONCEPT

I believed She-Ra’s entire premise about friendship, I believed it wholeheartedly, and I’m so PISSED that at the close of day, narratively, it swept it all the bin. AND YES, YES IT DID, otherwise, WHY IS IT THERE. It serves no story-based need, it serves no character-based need, it has no NEED at all. So is it meant to be a “reward” to Bo and Glimmer for winning the war, as if their lifelong friendship were not reward enough? Is it meant to show they’ve walked through the flames and emerged with stronger, deeper bonds, because of course a relationship can only go SO deep without fucking. There’s no avenue to Romantic Relationship that doesn’t simultaneously point to something lacking in Platonic Relationship, AND I AM FURY PERSONIFIED

I am so tired of this. I’m SO TIRED of this.

And it didn’t need to be there. They didn’t even TRY to give us a good reason. That may be the part that makes me the angriest. Of COURSE they hook up romantically, of COURSE their platonic love would grow into “more”.

Fuck YOU, She-Ra. I thought you were better than that. YOU WERE SO CLOSE TO BETTER THAN THAT

THEN THERE WAS CATRA

I get it, I guess. I mean, I think it’s shittily written, but I GUESS. Honestly, end of day, I just don’t care about Catra enough to really get too angry about it, particularly when as I’m so fucking incendiary over something much more important to me. But it’s also the show’s greatest creative failure, and even if I HADN’T gotten angrier at other choices, it would’ve still cut its own legs out from under it.

Catra’s “redemption” was weak and sad and did a disservice to her and everyone involved. She started self-centered and shitty, and she ended just as self-centered and shitty, only we’re fine with that now. She learned nothing and changed nothing, but also nobody ever demanded it of her, so I can only lay so much at the character’s feet. The problem is ultimately creative, where I think Noelle Stevenson got lost in her own love of the character, and somewhere along the way forgot that if you take them out that far, you have to be willing to walk them the long road back. Compare to poor Glimmer, for fuck’s sake, whose greatest sin was being desperate enough to be manipulated by the character whose entire fucking DEAL is being THE manipulator. How much shit did she get for that? How long was she punished? Meanwhile Catra becomes THE Big Bad for a while, nearly unravels all of reality in a fit of supreme lesbian angst and self-pity, directly leads to the death of the planet’s ruling monarch who also happens to be GLITTER’S MUM and DIRECT FRIEND TO THE SHOW’S HEROES, but that’s fine, you did one sorta good thing one time and even though it was also wrapped in a thick film of self-pity and a final fuck-you at Adora, all is forgiven!

Speaking of, Adora suffers just as much from stunted growth. From the beginning, her thing was control, unable to free herself from the responsibility of everything and everyone. What did we have at the end? Adora as the only one who could save everything and everyone. Yeah, they kept asking what it was SHE wanted, BUT THEN SHE NEVER ACTUALLY GOT TO CHOOSE. NOT activating the failsafe wasn’t an option for her, and while she wound up not having to die to do it, even that wasn’t her choice in the end, it was Catra’s. (Don’t even get me started on her nth hour “You love me?” fuckery when it wasn’t once for one single second shown to be a question of such life-turning importance.)

All of which could be interesting! That Catra and Adora went through all this, came so far to wind up right where they started? AWESOME. LOVE IT. FUND IT. But really all that happens is nobody minds now that Catra’s a self-involved little shit and tee-hee another Best Friends Squad Mission being bullrushed by Adora within five minutes of ending the last one isn’t that funny?

I can’t even dig much enjoyment out of Adora and Catra as a trope subversion (if one of them was a male, their romantic involvement wouldn’t have even been a QUESTION), because the show lost its fucking mind with romantically pairing everybody off in the final five minutes. WHICH BRINGS ME RIGHT BACK TO MY PREVIOUS SCREAMING SO I’LL STOP THERE.

There was other stuff, of course. I think it was a TERRIBLE decision to spend the last season with the focus split between the two groups of rebels, and writing half the cast into brainwashing. I think the Nettossa and Spinnerella stuff was wasted and lacked any punch at all because the show for some reason or another couldn’t be bothered to let us spend any time with them to care. The waste of Scorpia and Mermista especially (to people named Jet Wolf who are me) was fucking CRIMINAL. Speaking of Scorpia, wouldn’t her showdown with Bo have been so much more poignant if they’d had really any kind of interaction before that moment to build from? (Sure, it’s Scorpia, so if you’re going to sell the lack of context with anyone it’s her, BUT ALSO.) Hey, remember Huntara? No? NEITHER DID THE SHOW.

All my details aside though, MY MANY MANY MANY DETAILS, what kills/rages me most about She-Ra was how so much potential from the first four seasons was just flushed away. Whether it was the creative team shooting itself in the foot or corporate pressure and rushing from Netflix, I don’t know. I don’t CARE. This is the show I was given, so this is the show I have, and that kind of fall after that kind of potential doesn’t just irritate me, it makes me SAD. I wouldn’t be this disappointed if I didn’t think it could have been -- WAS -- so much more.

Time will tell if I can separate out the final season from how much I loved those that came before it. I like to hope so, because I did love it intensely and loved whenever I got the chance to really dig in and talk about it.

WHATEVER ELSE I SUPPOSE I WILL ALWAYS HAVE THIS

Again please remember that I am not at present looking to argue or debate my feelings and opinions. I get to just be angry and disappointed, as a treat!

#jet wolf watches she ra #a novel by jet wolf #ANYWAY THAT'S ENOUGH ENERGY SPENT ON THIS CHILD'S CARTOON FOR ONE 24 HOUR PERIOD

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carriagelamp · 4 years ago

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September Book Roundup, back-to-school edition aka The Season Of Red apparently?

Here is a selection of the books I’ve read this month. Summer is over, so the little bit of brain power I had managed to scrape together is quickly disintegrating, so enjoying the hodge podge of stories.

Binti

This was probably my favourite book that I read this month. It’s a novella I first heard about hear on tumblr and went to find a copy in my library. I have since bought the collected trilogy so I can read book two and three at my leisure because it was honestly just that friggin cool. This is exactly my flavour of scifi and I tend to be very very picky about the scifi I consume. It’s about a girl named Binti, a member of the Himba people (a real group of indigenous people from Namibia). They are a people well known for their mathematical and technical prowess, but due to their strong connection to their homeland and the earth they choose not to travel through space like so many other humans do. However, when Binti secures a position at Oomza University, the greatest university in the galaxy, she chooses to go against her family’s wishes and traditions in order to set out into space to attend. Everything is ruined though when her spaceship is attacked by a hostile alien race and everyone is killed but Binti, who must rely on all her intellect and abilities if she wants any chance at survival.

A seriously cool book with great world building – it really successfully introduces readers not only to the fictional scifi world and races of the novel but also to the culture and traditions of the Himba people. It’s a quick read, and feels like a cross between Dead Space and Tamora Pierce. Would totally recommend a read.

Fake Blood

A Canadian graphic novel. It was a goofy cute read. It’s about an awkward group of friends in middle school, and one boy with a crush on one of the girls in his class. Knowing her love for vampire stories, AJ decides, like any self-respecting middle schooler, to try to pretend he’s a vampire. Naturally nothing goes right and some things go wrong in unexpected ways. It’s funny and cute. Nothing amazing but it was a cozy evening read.

The Last Book On The Left

I’ve been listening to this podcast a lot since my friend recommended it to me and finally decided to read their book. For those that don’t know, The Last Podcast On The Left is a immaculately researched comedy podcast that’s hosted by Ben Kissel, Marcus Parks, and Henry Zebrowski, and explores the darker realms of human nature. Ghosts, paranormal, aliens, cults, and of course serial killers. In this book they collected several of their biggest name serial killer series, did some renewed research, and put together a book that is both informative, irreverent, gross, and very funny, complete with some really amazing illustrations by Tom Neely. A very cool read (and listen, if you decide to check out the podcast instead), I really love how they tell these stories without idolizing or romanticizing the people they talk about. Their humour always makes sure you know exactly how much of a pathetic loser these people are. Fantastic true crime, from someone who has never really felt the need to read about true crime before.

Midnight Sun

I won’t harp on this one, everyone is already going to firmly have their opinions here. I grew up on Twilight, I was reading them as they came out, and I still love them. Were they dumb? Oh my god yes. Did they have problems? Sure, they came out in 2005 it was part and parcel. Were they also a really fun for a thirteen year old to read? Absolutely, I don’t regret it. Sometimes teenage girls should just to get like things without being mocked.

Anyway, I am off my soapbox now (can you tell this is still a raw spot for me?) I unironically loved this book! Getting to see Edward’s perspective was really cool, and since he can read minds it essentially let you get the perspective of everyone else around him too. The Cullens family is a great set of characters so it was really cool to see more of them, and I was very impressed by how Stephenie Meyers took a YA romance she wrote in 2005 and was able to make it feel updated and more appropriate for a 2020 audience even though she couldn’t actually change any of the events themselves. So fans of Twilight, don’t be ashamed, go read Midnight Sun and have the shameless fun you deserve. Is there anymore appropriate book for the bizarre ass year that was 2020 than a return to this goofy nonsense?

The Paperbag Princess

(and Up, Up, Down, and Robert Munsch in general)

I’m back in schools so I’m back to reading children’s book! And honestly, and of you that don’t occasionally sit down and read a kids book out loud don’t know what you’re missing. Anyway, Robert Munsch is a Canadian author, and one of my all-time favourite children’s authors. It surprised me to learn he isn’t as well known in the States apparently? I don’t know if that’s changed or not, but he is a Canadian staple for a good reason, his books have ridiculous premises, are specifically written to be fun to read out loud, and have beautiful, involved, and hilarious illustrations. The Paperbag Princess is one of my absolute favourites, and as a kid it was one of the first stories I had ever read where a princess is the one saving the prince… and then telling the prince to piss off when it turns out he’s a jerk. Up, Up, Down is another favourite I reread this month, because it’s just hilarious funny and makes a fantastic read aloud with kids. Some other Robert Munsch I reread this month include: Mmm, Cookies, More Pies, Ribbon Rescue, Just One Goal, and Andrew’s Loose Tooth. You just cannot go wrong, for kids or adults.

Pit Pony

Another Canadian staple while I was growing up. If you’re a young adult know who went through the Canadian elementary school system, you probably had your entire heart ripped out and stepped on by this chapter book. It’s a historical fiction that looks at the economic hardship, debt slavery, child labour, and animal abuse that was tied to coal mining in the Maritimes. Finding a copy was harder than I would have expected give how pervasive it was a decade or so back, but reading it again was a pure shot of nostalgia.

Seeking Refuge

A graphic novel written by a German-born Canadian about a Jewish girl who flees Nazi-occupied Austria by way of Kindertransport to become a child refuge in England. It follows her as she is moved from host family to host family as the war continues to pick up and gradually makes it’s way to the United Kingdom as well. It’s very poignant and the pencil-sketch illustrations are an interesting change to a lot of the graphic novels that are out right now. This story is still aimed at a younger audience, so it never gets too brutal but it still is a hard hitting story, especially with everything else going on right now.

Silver Spoon #9/10

I know I’ve talked about these books before, but my library got some more since I last read them, so I’m continuing my way through the series. It’s about a teenaged boy who, after having a breakdown from the pressure he was feeling to study and succeeded, decided not to attend an academic, urban high school, but rather to apply for an agricultural high school so he could live in the dorms, far away from his parents. The series just gets more and more heartwarming as it continues. It’s all about failure and overcoming and how worth can be measured in different ways, and about family and understanding each other and coming together… but also about the realities of farming which aren’t always very nice, especially when it comes to finances and survival. It’s written by the mangaka behind Fullmetal Alchemist but I’ll be honest… I think I like this series more. It is honestly one of my all time favourite manga series, it just has so much heart.

Ruby Finds A Worry

aka Ruby’s Worry apparently? I can’t figure out why this has more than one title. I actually read it in French not English, so for me it was Le Souci de Calie. Regardless, this was a nice little picture book for talking about worries and anxieties with children… especially with the amount of Covid stress a lot of kids are dealing with. It explains in a really nice way how talking about anxieties are often the best way to make them more manageable, and how pretending nothing is wrong can just let it grow bigger and bigger. A good explanation for kids and possible a good reminder for adults.

War of the Realms: Journey Into Mystery

I read this because the Mcelroy family wrote it so I figured Hey! Why not give it a go! And I’m glad I did. Their brand of humour was all over it, and it made the story a delight to read. I don’t follow all of Marvel’s weirdness, so I didn’t actually know most of the characters (Miles and Kate were actually the only two I was familiar with) but they do a great job of introducing the characters and making them all feel distinct and interesting. I absolutely adore the Dog of Gods (God of Dogs) who is a very very good boy. And Miles is absolutely always a delight so you can’t really lose. It’s a single book that I think is a part of a larger plotline that I have zero interest in. This book is a fine one to read though if you don’t mind jumping into the middle of the action and just getting swept along for the ride. Also Mcelroys!

Witcher Omnibus

Bleh. Absolutely not worth it. All the misogyny and Dumb Bullshit that I hate in the original books and from video games in general. Honestly, Witcher III did way better by its characters than most of these short stories. The only one worth reading in it is Curse Of Crows – that one was actually really enjoyable, probably because it was about Ciri and had an actual fucking woman on the writing team. (Seriously guys what were you thinking with Fox Children that’s literally just a story from Season of Storms but done worse. Fuck off.) If you like The Witcher, go read Curse of Crows and skip every other story in this book.

Billy Stuart: Les Zintrépides #1

Another French (Quebecois) book I read, though I believe you can get it in English as well (Billy Stuart and the Zintrepids). It’s a chapter book / graphic novel hybrid, and was honestly a fairly fun little read. It’s in a similar vein to Geronimo Stilton but done much better in my opinion. The humour was funnier, the characters felt less like caricatures, and while it still used stylized fonts it was also less intrusive and eye-strainy than the Stilton books. Also when the story suddenly pivots into the main adventure and mystery of the series? Fantastic. Was not expecting a hell-beast to appear part way through the story. Very interested in reading more.

Over all, it was cute and funny, and I can see it being a good next step when children have read their fill of the Stilton series and want something similar but possibly a bit more involved and coherent.

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vivalavi-daa · 5 years ago

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Fav 2019 K-Dramas

2019 blessed us with many intriguing kdramas with unique stories, don’t you think? I’m bored during quarantine and decided to post this. Anyways, here are my favs:

1. Vagabond

There, this picture says it all: this drama is fast paced, SO intense, and on fire. I love every minute of it! Vagabond is different than another k-dramas. I’m not lying when I say this drama literally makes me cry and scream. Sometimes I even had to pause in the middle of episode just to catch my breath lol. The plot is so well written and full of unpredictable storylines (which is what I love the most about Vagabond–that every episode always has a way to surprises me). Although, many viewers disappointed with how they ended Vagabond with a cliffhanger. I, too, really hope they consider making the second season to satisfy our curiosities. But either way, I don’t regret watching this drama. Not at all. Because this drama is too amazing

2. When the Camellia Blooms

Unlike majority of romance k-dramas, this drama’s love story is centered around a young woman who raises her child on her own. I gotta say, this is one high quality k-drama. I could even judge it from its lovely opening video. Every episode always has meaningful messages behind it. The storylines are rich and presented in such a way that makes viewers immersed in the stories and emphatize with the characters. First, they make us understand Dongbaek’s dark past and her struggle as a single parent, then they make us emphatize with Dongbaek’s son who grow up without a dad figure. We also get to see the perspectives of her mom & Yong Sik (the lead guy)’s mom as mothers, the issues faced by side characters, and conflicts that arise from triangle love story. In addition, they also involved mistery of murderer in the stories! Can you believe how many of these can we swallow in one drama? One time this drama is heartbreaking, then it’s heartwarming, another time it gets super dark.

Also, what I find many viewers love from this drama is how Yong Sik cherishes Dongbaek and love her for what she is, which is why I concluded this drama is perfect for woman who feels insecure. Why? Because with the way Yong Sik endlessly convinces Dongbaek, he reminds us that every woman is good enough, deserves to feel loved and receive happiness. And I love him for that.

3. Her Private Life

There is a reason why people said this is the perfect kdrama for fangirl, since the story is told from the perspective of a die hard fan (Sung Deok Mi). Those who have experienced being fangirls know how well this drama represent fangirls’ life: what fangirls do, and how fangirling affects our lives. It’s all displayed in such fun atmosphere that it’d give you good feelings while watching it. Personally, I am attracted to its opening video. It’s really catchy and reflect the fun vibes of Her Private Life. I really recommend this drama if you want to lift your mood.

But on top of that, Sung Deok Mi’s relationship with Ryan Gold is the major part of why I highly appreciate this drama!! Their relationship is unlike any relationship I’ve ever seen before. They’re very mature, respect each others’ dreams and what each other loves, always resolve conflicts through discussion. They portray the definition of a healthy relationship and I really admire that.

4. Extraordinary You

The word extraordinary isn’t used in the title for no reasons. The storylines are, indeed, extraordinary. It is a mix of comedy, high school romance, star crossed soulmates, fantasy, mistery, comedy and a glimpse of stories in historical settings at the same time. Thus, it’s not exaggerating when fans said “you don’t have to look for specific dramas, you can get it all here”.

The actors & actresses’ acting skills are superb and we can find so many funny & relatable lines here. But one of the best things about Extraordinary You is they place the second leads in the center of spotlight! Finally nice second leads get the justice they deserve. They portrayed how lead guy who’s rude and feels entitled to have his crush doesn’t have the slightest chance of capturing the woman’s heart. Instead, the nice second leads who show respects and always put the woman’s desire before his own are what woman find attractive. I highly praise this drama for that.

5. Crash Landing on You

In 2019, we encounter many dramas with unique synopsis, including this one: a relationship between a North guy and a South woman. I have no doubt in Son Ye Jin and Hyun Bin’s chemistry since the beginning. Their incredible chemisty makes every romance scenes look even more sweet and pure and sometimes cute. Although I wasn’t really engaged with the first two episodes, the next episodes gets more appealing and satisfying. It’s nice to see the progress of both lead characters’ development and how they help each other overcome their issues. Aside from Se Ri (Son Ye Jin)’s relationship with Jeong Hyeok (Hyun Bin), her relationship with the North soldiers and neighboors at millitary village are pretty adorable. Their interaction always give me warm fuzzy feelings and they’re what I miss the most from this drama honestly.

6. One Spring Night

If you love Something in the Rain, I’m sure you’ll love this one too since both are the works from the same director. It has similiar atmospheres and similiar soundtracks vibes (both have really beautiful soundtracks by the way). Like Dongbaek from When the Camellia Blooms, the lead guy in this drama (Yoo Ji Ho) is also a single parent. I agree with fans saying this isn’t the kind of drama for everyone. This is more like slice of life and they aren’t in a rush to throw in conflicts as well as its resolution and I love it that way. Through this, they made it possible for us to process our emotions while the conflicts are presented.

The stories are also realistic: the issue experienced by the lead guy as a single parent, issue that’s arised from triangle love story, how pride and status mean for men, also a glimpse of abusive relationship, and the heartwarming sisterhood. And if we look closely, we could see how they tried to portray the influence of culture in the family and in the way they resolve a conflict.

7. Catch the Ghost

I thought the ghost from the title refers to an actual ghost but thank god it’s not. Here, ghost is a nickname for a criminal–the villain of the drama. Even when the story centered around the same villain from the firat until the last eps, but I wasn’t bored at all watching this. In fact, it is what made me engage with the stories and made me continue watching the next eps although I had assignments to do 😅. It’s just so, so exciting to watch. The stories are dark, sad, but funny at times. However, some viewers (including me) found the lead woman (Yoo Reung) annoying at first because of her selfishness. But I promise it’s still worth to watch because in the later eps, you’ll understand why she is the way she is which makes it easier to tolerate and even emphatize with her. She’s actually lovable, and her relationship with the lead guy (Ko Ji Seok) is really cute! In fact, Ko Ji Seok is one of my fav characters in kdrama land!

8. Class of Lies

You know, I always love kdramas with unpredictable storylines. Just like what this drama has. I know the settings are set in high school but it is waaay too dark for a high school story. You can even see it from the picture that it has gloomy vibes. I thought it’s the typical high school kdrama about bullies or corruption but it’s truly exceeds my expectation. From the first episode, I already saw the potential of this drama and already hooked with the misteries. I felt so tense throughout watching the entire drama. I kept clicking the next eps to find out if things are getting better and if there is any clue to the misteries here. But I swear everytime I thought I figure something out, this drama always has surprises to give. So brilliant. I stan.

9. At Eighteen

We could tell from the title that this drama must be related to the dynamic life of 18 years old teenagers. Considering this is the age where we explore ourselves, this drama portrayed how different teens could have different issues to face: trying to fit in at school, stand up against bullies, trying to be in top tier at school, trying to get good grades whether it’s to get into reputable colleges or to meet parents’ high expectation, trying to experience romance, AND exploring sexual orientation (actually this is the first kdrama i’ve watched that portrayed gay issues so I was like wow??). So, the stories aren’t only focused on the main characters, but the side characters too. Though I really adore the main guy in this drama: Choi Jun Woo. I even made an essay about why I think he’s an ideal guy lol. If you’re interested, here you go

Not only does this drama describe the issues faced by 18 yo students, but also the struggles faced by the teacher. It shows us how teachers can feel nervous too whenever he’s about to teach or deal with the students, how certain teachers care about the wellbeings of their students, not just care about their grades. I appreciate that from the drama, really, I do. This drama is calm, heartwarming, and meaningful.

10. Love Alarm

Tried to watch it because of Kim So Hyun, and I quickly got invested in the stories. I like the futuristic theme in this drama. The idea of a Love Alarm app itself is already interesting. Moreover, So Hyun has good chemistry with both guys. Though I don’t find both lead and second lead guys as my best type of guys, but I couldn’t stop watching it and I don’t regret watching it. Their lovestories are bittersweet which kept me looking forward for more. The last episode ended in cliffhanger though, typical Netflix series. If you don’t like uncertainty and want to watch this drama, I suggest you to wait until season 2 is released (yes, they announced there will be a season 2).

k-drama recommendation: 2/?

#fav kdramas #fav 2019 kdramas #kdrama recommendations #vagabond #when the camellia blooms #her private life #extraordinary you #july found by chance #crash landing on you #catch the ghost #at eighteen #moments at eighteen #class of lies #love alarm #kdramas #korean drama #k-drama #touch your heart #one spring night

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thefiveavengers · 5 years ago

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jester and sexuality/romantic inclinations

so, this is my last day of summer break (actually the day before last, but tomorow is monday) and I decided to put into words what my thoughts about this dicey, dicey subject are. First, these are solely my opinons based on 1) watching the second campaign, 2)watching talks machina and the meta knowledge that comes with that and 3) assuming the players are playing in good faith and are open minded to organic changes that might come to their characters along the way.

and second, I do have my biases, and I come from the following inclinations: I ship lavorregard, and I don’t believe Jester is straight.

That said let’s begin. I’ve written a far amount about the lavorregard ship, but mostly focused on Beau’s feelings and her perspective. Right before the ep that Beau reveals the crush to Nott I wrote the following: “ If I were to put a chronology on Beau’s feelings for Jester it would go something like that: 1)“This girl is cute and somehow I like her way more than I usually like, well, anybody” 2) “This girl is cute and we are… friends???” 3) “This girl is cute, we are friends and I love her” 4) “We are friends, I love her AND I think she is hot” 5) “This girl is hot, I love her and maybe I love her as more than friends?”

But last ep I think it shifted to, “I’m definetely into Jester as more than friends and she’s never been hotter AND I think I’m getting to a point where I’m ready to actually process my feelings regarding that and be open about it.”

And lo and behold, the very next ep we saw Beau actually processing her feelings when talking to Nott. But what about Jester?

I’ve seen some people express the idea that “wouldn’t it be galaxy brain if all three cr ladies had independently decided when creating their characters that they are lesbians?” and honestly, while a cute thought, I don’t think that’s what’s happening. In my opinion what happened was, Marisha created Beau as a lesbian and she made sure to make that clear as possible from the get go, and one of the reasons I think she did that is because she entered the campaign looking to avoid a pc/pc romance, since the one she was in in cr1 took such a toll on her. She probably figured it would be a safe bet, playing a lesbian she would shield herself from the male characters and most likely the other female characters would not be interested in Beau, right?

Enter Ashley Johnson. Honestly I don’t think Ashley had such a clear idea that Yasha was (or is) a lesbian. She had a wife, and from what has been said in canon Zualla was her only romantic and sexual relationship. Now, from what we’ve seen Yasha hasn’t expressed any interest in men, but to be fair she hasn’t really expressed interest in much anybody. She called Jester adorable in the very first ep and she seems to be fond of Beau’s flirtations even if not directly responding to them. The conversation where Yasha has said that she has “seen {Beau} a lot” coupled with one of the songs in Yasha’s playlist has me convinced that Yasha has some kind of feelings for Beau, even if is just a small crush. And I say this as someone who doesnt ship Beau/Yasha. I don’t think they would make a good match, but that doesn’t mean I’d deny either of them having interest in the other. But that doesn’t mean Yasha is for sure a lesbian who would never engage with a men ever. She seems pretty adamant on not having any romantic connections, so its hard to gauge really where her interests lie. She is for sure though a wlw.

Now, when it comes to Jester and Laura Bailey that’s when things get complicated. I would assume that most of us that have considered the possibility of Jester not being straight have read the excellent essay on comphet by tumblr user fuzzy-face ( https://fuzzy-face.tumblr.com/post/185001577009/you-make-your-own-fairytale-jester-comphet ), so I’m not gonna rehash what she’s said already. While I do agree almost wholeheartedly with this post, I’ll say this, I don’t think Laura Bailey when creating Jester set out to tell a story of a wlw learning how to overcome comphet. But (BUT!,!) I also don’t think her idea was Jester is totally straight and that’s that! I think she created Jester as a sexually and romantically inexperienced young woman that almost immediately got a crush on Fjord because, among other reasons, he reminded her of a hero from her smut books.

Recently, with the new upload of talks to the CR youtube channel, I rewatched this talks: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YZqJzNj_1tI , which is about the ep a Hole in the Plan, deep into the pirate arc, but before the first big Beau/Jester moment, the conversation they had in the boat on ep 46. First I must express my annoyance at the fact that Laura and Marisha are the guests and yet at least 80% of the questions are about Fjord. I know it was in his arc, but COME ON! Also I was very surprised by how open they are talking about Fjord/Jester as if it were a done deal alaready. When anyone involved in Talks claim that they don’t do shipping questions, you should show them this ep because it is all about shipping questions. Anyways, Laura clearly states that Jester has a crush on Fjord (at the time at least) and she compares it to a super intense high school crush. So to me there is no refuting the fact that at least at some point Jester had a crush on Fjord.

What I do find it interesting is when you compare her answers in that talks to what she said in the most recent talks she’s participated ( https://youtu.be/_NmZ2b_Q3So ) which seem to at least indicate that Jester has, on a level or another, moved on from said crush. It’s also, the now infamous moment where Laura talks about Jester’s crush...es. We’ll get back to that.

That’s all good and dandy, but this is meta outside the game. Let’s go analyze actual in-game developments. As far as I can remember (and I’m not an expert in Fjord/Jester, so I might be forgetting something) these are the moments Jester spoke directly or inderectly about her crush on Fjord; when Caleb point blank asked her if she was sweet on him (to which she answered “I don’t know” and let’s keep that in mind); when she talked to nott about first kisses and the best thing she can say about it is that it didnt make her feel dead, and to me the most significant moment; when she asks the traveler how to make a boy like her. Now, I’ve seen some people band about this as irrefutable proof that Jester IS straight, otherwise she wouldnt be asking the traveler advice about boys, but in this case she wasn’t talking about boys in general, she was talking about ONE boy and that was Fjord.

And that’s the crux of the matter isn’t it? Jester has demonstrated sexual/romantic interest in one man and one man alone, and that’s fjord. That does not mean she is straight. It doesn’t even mean that she, if a wlw, is bi. Her crush on Fjord has been wrapped around in all these expectations and I think its hard to parse how much was just projecting, among other things, the romance her parents had. Also, let me comment on how all these developments were long ago, during the pirate arc, over one year ago in real time.

Jester has commented about Fjord’s appearance and Caleb’s and even pointed out to Reani that hot boi Essek was hot, but its all done very matter-of-factly. And if we are going to talk about Jester commenting on people’s apperances we have to acknowledge how Jester cannot SHUT UP about how she finds women beautiful. From Beau to Nott, from Reani to random shop girl in Uthodurn and her obssession with the Bright Queen in particular its all very in your face. Once someone wanted to argue with me that this is just how straight girls air their insecurities, and even if that’s true and not just misogyny, the only time Jester commented on a woman’s apperance with any kind of insecure note was one time when she compared herself to her mother.

Look, the thing is, if we take at face value every comment Jester has made about Fjord’s looks and strenght, we also have to take at face value how distraught she looked and sounded facing the idea that Beau’s new vestiments wouldn’t let her abs show. Is it funny? Yes, but it’s funny for the idea that Jester is very appreciative of Beau’s abs, which, I’m still waiting for the straight explanation if anyone if willing to give me.

To end, this goddamned book that I’ve started, the thing that gives me the most certainty that Jester is not straight and that a Beau/Jester romance is not only possible but likely is that I do not believe Laura Bailey is cruel. If she had no interest in exploring the possibility of a not-straight Jester and a B/J romance she wouldn’t been doing what she has been doing for awhile now.

And what do I mean about that? I mean that even before Beau’s confession there’s been a different dynamic to their relationship. I already mentioned the “but can I see her abs????” incident, but also her encouragement about beau’s qualities and abilities (beau, you’re super strong), using the traveler as a proxy to her feelings (the traveler thinks you’ll do great, the traveler thinks you’re awesome, the traveler loves you), waiting to hold beau when she went up a column and showing disapointment when she didnt fell into her arms, listening to Beau regarding her wanting to confront her dad, being super, and I mean SUPER bummed out when Beau and Reani kissed and took a walk. And after the confession things ramped up.

Like, that was Laura Bailey listening to the conversation between Nott and Beau, not Jester. She could have had continued to play out their friendship as usual, but that’s not what she did. She used this opportunity to play the romantic possibility as never before. Making sure that Jester shielded Beau’s body in combat, being VERY specific that when her double cured her, she leaned over her body and put her hands to her face and even contradicting Matt, pointing out that when she woke up, it wasn’t the laughing hand that she first saw, but Jester’s face. And then there’s ep 89, the juiciest lavorregard ep since ep 46. It’s romantic comedy set up, one character confesses their love to a third one, and the one character who is the target of that love starts a conversation with “Are you avoiding me? Because I think I know why.” That’s a romantic trope ladies and gents, and Laura Bailey the genius she is played it to perfection. Not being sure why she was so upset about not curing Beau (a sentiment that battle mercy Jester has never expressed before). Wanting to punish Beau’s dad for not treating her right, getting to an agreement after arguing about tarot and molly. Afterwards engaging Fjord in an activity that she usually associates with beau, that goes disastrously and thanks to the dice gods, I could see, in real time the comphet melting away.

And concluding with the fact that she bet 20 extra gold on Beau on the down low.

So coming back to the idea of Jester having crush...es, to me is very clear those crushes are, the one she has/had on Fjord and her new emerging one on Beau. do I think Jester herself is aware of these feelings? Not really, but Laura sure is.

look this is not about being entitled or acusing anyone of queerbaiting if my ship doesnt pan out. its just, you know, laura’s sister is a lesbian, and I do think that gives people some perspective that they might not have, and I genuinely don’t think she would be playing things as she is, if she didn’t have any interest in playing out to the end.

#critical role #jester #jester lavorre #beaujester #lavorregard #this got super long and took me a few hours #but anyways these are most of my feelings regarding queer jester

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withlovekth · 5 years ago

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Darkroom (Part Six)

Part One / Two / Three / Four / Five

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader Genre: artist! taehyung, best friend! jimin, college au, fluff, smut, angst Contains: swearing, suicide mention Word Count: 3.2k

Author��s Note: Okay, honestly this was supposed to be a stand alone one shot that I wrote three years after I had stopped writing Darkroom but my housemate inspired me to rewrite it to fit because she didn’t want me to abandon it, so here we are.

You couldn’t help but constantly come back to a city that reminded you of him, all because of a conversation you had years ago in his nearly empty room. Given opportunities, a steady job, free housing— Who would pass up a chance like that? You thought, maybe, he would.

Is that what you’re still up to these days?

You shoved your hands into your coat pockets. A stream of air visibly left your lips as you aimlessly walked by random store fronts. Your reflection reminded you of a time where you stupidly started smoking because you hoped it’d help you stop thinking about him. But thinking about him also made you stop smoking. Maybe he would have told you to quit anyway.

Was that the kind of person you were? It’s getting harder to remember.

Every time you’re here, you’d make an excuse to explore as if you haven’t seen all the touristy spots the first time around. A part of you hoped you’d run into him, but the thought of your paths crossing filled you up with anxiety. You’d fantasize what you’d say to him. If, that is, you’d say anything at all. Most of the time all the daydreaming would leave you a complete mess, whether it was a bubbling one or a sobbing one, it was still a mess. But that was nothing new.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket. You braced yourself for another round of freezing your fingers off as you raised the device to your ear.

“Y/N, where are you?” Your best friend’s voice brought a part of you back into reality. “You were supposed to be here like ten minutes ago.”

“Jimin,” your voice trailed off. You tried to process where you were. “I’m... Lost?” That was your quickest answer.

“What do you mean you’re lost?” There was a hint of panic in his voice. “Geez, I need to stop letting you take public transit by yourself—”

“Sorry, sorry.” You cut him off. If he knew you still felt this way, he wouldn’t let you go around searching for trouble all by yourself. “I see the glass and garden museum—”

“Oh! Okay, go inside and wait in the gift shop. I bet you forgot your gloves today too.”

“... You’re not wrong.” He knew you too well. He always has.

He let out a slight chuckle. “I’ll be there soon.” He hung up.

You found refuge in the shop, weaving between customers and body heat. This city was so, so cold, and yet it never got cold enough to snow, just rain.

You stopped in front of a wall of postcards, thinking about all the times you’ve wanted to send one to him. You never knew his new address, so why did you have a stack of unset mail tucked away in a drawer back home? His name written all of them. Signed: With love.

The postcard’s design was a picture of one of the glass sculptures that hung from a window paneled ceiling. The mixture of orange and yellow glass popped out among the night sky in the background. You wanted to write to him then and there, asking for his opinions, if he’d like to see it with you one day. You knew he’d like it, or at least you hope he’d like it.

You reached for it, with your now warm hands and the goal of buying it to just hide it with the rest of the unsent letters. You instantly retracted your hand the moment it brushed against another’s.

“Sorry,” your voices came out in unison.

“No, I’m—” Your throat closed up for a second as your eyes met.

“Y/N?” His voice echoed in your ears. That voice that you thought you had forgotten, but remembered as if it were yesterday. The voice you remembered saying its goodbyes and you not realizing that was meant to be forever. “It’s been forever.” He smiled softly. “How have you been?”

“It’s been forever,” you repeated after him.

Forever. It wasn’t your choice to never see him again. It was his choice to never see you again. A choice that kept you up all night wondering if it was something you did or said for it to turn out this way. A choice that’d hit you out of nowhere with a whirlwind of emotions as you tried to enjoy an outing with your friends or while you were in the middle of a test you didn’t study for. And you thought it’d be this way. Forever. But forever decided it lasted long enough. And now forever was over. Now a new set of emotions overcome you. A confusing mixture of upset and gladness and maybe relief. You hoped the relief would last forever.

Somehow you managed to say, “I’m fine. Great, actually.” You swallowed. You felt the corners of your mouth twitching from how hard you’re actually smiling. And you wondered what this response was, but at the same time it was almost expected. You wanted to be upset, angry. And yet you’re here, smiling like an idiot, as if he didn’t move and disappear without a word for years. “How are you, Taehyung?”

Saying his name to his face felt so unreal. But this was really happening. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, your face getting hotter by the second, sweat building up under your clothes.

“I’m good. Life’s been treating me well.”

“That’s good.”

You felt his eyes on you, watching, analyzing. Does he know? Can he tell that you’re about to lose whatever is left of your sanity at any moment? It’s hard to tell what he was thinking. Was it always that way?

“Have you been inside the museum yet? It looks even better in real life.” He looked back up at the postcard. You could tell he was trying to make small talk. “So, who were you going to send this to?”

You. But of course you couldn’t tell him that.

“This is kind of… Embarrassing…” Your voice trailed off before you got the chance to spill your guts.

“Oh— You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.” He looked at the ground, smiling slightly to himself. “I guess this is kind of embarrassing too. I was actually going to get it for myself. I just collect them. I’m not sure when that started. And I don’t really have much of a reason to. I guess I just think they look cool.” He grabbed one off the wall.

Without thinking you took it from his hand. “I’ll buy it for you,” you blurted out.

“No, no, it’s okay!” He tried to take it, but you hid it behind your back.

“I insist.”

He towered over you, his face inching closer to yours as he attempted to reach around for the postcard. “Y/N,” he grinned. “It’s fine.”

You found yourself stuck, unable to look away from his face. Remembering the cute little mole under his eye, then the tip of his nose, and the one under his lips.

A child running by bumped into you and you fell forward. It wasn’t romantic like in those romcoms, you head-butted his lip and he retracted backwards, covering his mouth.

Your eyes widened. “Taehyung I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay. It was an accident,” he checked his fingers for blood. “I’m okay! I’m okay.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. Okay now I definitely have to buy this for you, hold on.” You made a dash for the counter a couple steps away, nearly clipping another small child as they chased after the one who probably bumped you. You can hear Taehyung laugh as he trailed behind you.

You quickly made the transaction and handed over the card to him. “Here. I’m sorry, again.”

“What? You’re not going to write something for me?” He playful tilted his head.

You mumbled under your breath, “You’re killing me, Kim Taehyung.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing— Here, just— Ah. Did you want me to? I don’t have a pen…”

He held onto the postcard without taking it. “How about you think of something to write and then give it to me by the end of the day.” He nudged the card towards your body. “We’ll find you a pen later.”

“We? Later?” You didn’t want to look stupid in front of him, but you couldn’t help it. You quickly clenched your jaw after you realized you were staring at him with your mouth open.

“Yeah, later. Unless you have something else to do today?”

“Oh fuck, Ji—”

“Taehyung, who’s your friend?” An unknown woman walked up next to him, locking her arms around his. She glared at you so hard you could have sworn lasers would start shooting out of her eyes. She was beautiful. Of course she would be, it’s Taehyung.

He looked at you, but it felt more like he was looking past, maybe even through you. “She’s an old friend.”

You let out an awkward, almost forced laugh. “Yeah. An old friend. Right.” Right. That was all. Maybe a little more. Or could have been more. There was definitely more. But to him maybe you really were just a friend. Just a photo in an album at the bottom of an old moving box.

“Okay, well, we should be going now.” She began to drag him out.

You just watched him walk away. At least this time you already expected him to walk out of your life. It’s fine. This is fine. It’ll be fine.

He glanced back at you and stopped in his tracks. He gently detached himself from her and walked back over to you. He looked like he was trying hard to find something to say. Looking around as if the words would appear out of the air. He locked eyes with you once again, biting his lip. He really was thinking, but all he could come up with was a hushed, “Run.”

He had a wild look in his eyes as he grabbed your hand and bolted out of the museum, passing the girl he was with earlier. All you could make out was a string of some unkind names as the two of you darted out of earshot. He laughed the whole time. You ran for God knows how long before collapsing on a park bench. The cold air burned with each deep inhale. It hurt, but all you could do was smile.

As you tried to catch your breath you had to ask, “Who was that?”

“Just some girl I’ve been seeing. We met a few weeks ago at a coworker’s party.”

You’ve become more aware of how long you’ve been holding hands and you finally let go.

“It’s not serious though.”

You shove your hands back into your pockets, sitting up straight. “Why did you just ditch her? You’re on a date, right?”

He shrugged. “I’m not that into her. Besides, you’re way more interesting to hang out with.”

“How do you know that? It’s been three years.” You lowered your head to cover your face behind your hair. Your eyes stung, but now was not the time to be crying.

He hummed. “For starters, you nearly split my lip open, insisted on buying me a random postcard, and didn’t stop me from running away from her.”

You didn’t want to cave in so easily, but he knew how to make you smile. You can claim you hate it, but you secretly loved it. The part you hated the most was that he knew you loved it too. He still knew you so well.

“Y/N!” A voice called out from the distance.

You turned your head to the sound. “Jimin!” You shot up out of your seat. “Oh God, I forgot about him,” you mumbled under your breath.

He lightly jogged over. “Why did I just know it was you running out of the museum. I knew I should have just made you stay over at my place while you’re in town. What the hell were you doing? I told you to wait there and—” He finally looked over your shoulder. He grabbed you so fast you didn’t have time to react, shoving you behind him so that he kept you away from Taehyung. “What did you do to her?” His voice came out low.

“Nice to see you too, Jimin.” Taehyung got up with his hands outstretched for a hug.

Jimin stepped back, losing his balance for a moment as he stepped on your foot. “Ah— Sorry.”

“Jimin.” You gently put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile. But was this really fine?

He sighed, loosening up. He cleared his throat. “Good to see you too, Taehyung.” He opted for a handshake instead. “Anyway, Y/N and I have somewhere to be. So if you don’t mind, we’ll be leaving.”

You grabbed your best friend’s wrist before he got the chance to walk away. “Wait.”

“What?”

You didn’t know what to say. You just wanted to cherish your time with Taehyung. Even if it was only for a second longer. You didn’t want him to disappear, although it was probably inevitable.

“Hey, I don’t mean to intrude. Sorry.” Taehyung apologized with a tone that was enough to nearly shatter your heart. “I’ll let you be on your way.”

“No. Wait. Please.” You raised your voice as you whipped yourself around to face him. Your head began to spin, your breathing was shallow. You weren’t ready to let him go. It’s too soon.

Please don’t go. Please don’t go. Please don’t go.

“Please don’t go.” You covered your mouth so quickly you practically slapped yourself.

“Y/N,” Jimin whispered, holding on to your shoulder as if it was like he was trying to stop you from shaking.

You held your breath, waiting, wondering what Taehyung will or won’t do.

Taehyung reached for your hands, uncovering them from your mouth. The look on his face. What was that look? You couldn’t understand how an expression could suddenly make you feel so full of love.

“I won’t. I’m here.”

“For how long?” You studied his face, searching for any indication he was lying while at the same time, trying to remember every part of it— the mole placements, the curve of his lips, the way his eyelashes moved as he blinked. Everything. Because you wanted to be ready for when the time comes he’ll leave you once again.

He looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“How long?” You repeated yourself. “How long will this last before you leave me again?” You stepped back, releasing yourself from his hold. “Are you just going to disappear again? Are you just going to leave me alone because I mean nothing more to you than just a friend? Well, friends don’t just up and disappear like that. Without a word. What kind of friend does that? I thought, maybe, I wasn’t just a friend to you. I thought I meant more to you. Like you do for me.”

You began to laugh in the middle of the silence. “Oh, God. I just sound so stupid and pathetic, don’t I?” Your lips quivered as you failed to attempt to keep your tears in. “That was so, so stupid—”

“Jimin,” Taehyung's voice sounded a bit annoyed. “You didn’t tell her?”

“I never got the chance to,” Jimin was frantic. “Now is not the time.”

“What were you going to tell me?” You rubbed your eyes, trying to see Jimin past the blurriness.

“Are you serious? You didn’t fucking tell her?” Taehyung bit his lower lip, trying to keep his cool, but it was obvious he was fuming.

“Tell me fucking what?”

“He told me to leave you alone—”

“Taehyung, shut up.”

“No! No! She needs to know.”

You grabbed Jimin by his coat, shaking him. “Why did you tell him to leave me alone?”

His face looked pale. “Y/N,” he sighed, brushing the little hairs away from your face.

You stiffened up.

“I couldn’t stand to see him with you,” he whispered, almost sounding ashamed.

“Why?” You couldn’t bear the silence, but you already have realized why.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” He caressed your tear stained cheek.

You stepped away from him in disbelief. “This isn’t really happening, is it? Jimin, I… I don’t even know what to say to you.”

“Tell me anything.” He accepted his fate.

You glanced at Taehyung. He pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow, his way to encourage you.

“I…” Your eyes settle back on Jimin. Somehow he looked so small, like he wanted to disappear. “I want to be angry with you. I guess I am angry with you. Could you not see how much I was hurting?”

“I did.”

“And you let me fucking feel this way for years?”

“I thought I could win you over. But when weeks turned into months then into a year, and then two, and three... I realized I wouldn’t ever win. It would always be Taehyung. It was too late for me.”

“And you?” You asked Taehyung.

“Jimin was my best friend too. And I didn’t want to get in his way.”

You laughed harder. You couldn’t believe this is where your life has led up to. For the longest time you thought you had done something wrong. That you were the selfish one. Selfish to think you could have someone like Taehyung.

You thought it was karma. You were the bad person. You made yourself out to always be the bad person and you couldn’t even remember what you did, but all you knew is that you deserved it. All those endless nights drinking your sorrows to failed suicide attempts. It was karma for mistreating yourself for all those years, even before Taehyung came into your life. Jimin finding you in the second year of high school, out cold with a bottle of sleeping pills in your hand, waking up to getting your stomach pumped. You did this to yourself because you believed everyone would be better off without you. God was punishing you, but at that point, you had forgotten over what, and it’s laughable.

But maybe you weren’t being selfish. What was wrong about feeling the way you felt? Liking someone? Loving someone? It was okay to love who you loved. You don’t need to be sorry about that. There’s nothing to be sorry about.

“I’m sorry, Jimin.” You said you weren’t going to be sorry, but you couldn’t help but think about all the times Jimin was there for you. This was your karma for everything you put him though, and you accepted his envy, his selfishness.

“You don’t have to be. I should be sorry. I just couldn’t make you happy.”

“Jimin—”

A sudden clash of thunder interrupted you, followed by heavy rain. There hadn’t been any signs it would rain, let alone a thunderstorm. But that was just expected of this city, unpredictable, just like everything else in your life.

Jimin took a step back, this interruption was just what he needed. “I’ll talk to you later. I promise.” He ran off into the direction he came from, disappearing behind the endless rain drops.

You looked up into the sky, feeling the water soak your hair. You closed your eyes and took a deep inhale. You wanted to scream. Then you couldn’t feel the rain on your face. You opened your eyes to find Taehyung shielding the both of you with his coat. He gave you a half smile.

“Let’s get you out of this rain?”

“Can I stay with you? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Of course.”

#bangtanwriters-net #pocarmysunited #bangtanbuds #boy group writers net #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung smut #bts scenarios

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rwdestuffs · 4 years ago

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I need to vent a bit right now, so forgive me if I go a bit… defensive of the show and its characters… Like all the stans I tend to make fun of.

Recently, Soku dropped this and vagued about a “rwde poster” who was defending Yang and Salem.

Now, I know he’s talking about me. I’m literally the only person who defends Salem in any capacity. Like I said before, in a setting where names are significant to a character (ie: Pyrrha = “Pyrrhic victory”), Salem being named after the period in time where women were falsely accused of crimes is significant. Which is why I tend to lean towards defending her, and bashing the nameless gods who pretty much decided to not give advice, and decided to act like entitled douchebags who treated humanity like a science experiment that they could scrap at any time. Humanity was sentient, and they wiped them out because they couldn’t handle one person being uppity. Seems to me that they were being spoiled brats about the whole thing more than Salem was about Oz’s death. If you’re not willing to fight god for the people you love, then you didn’t really love them in the first place (Looking at you, Abraham).

Now, should Salem had shown more remorse for what happened during the fight?- Absolutely. But the way that she’s being treated right now is that she’s irredeemable. She’s a total monster who can’t handle loss, and was terrorizing people. Last I checked, she was bumming around in her cabin until Light God was all “I know I had this whole thing about balance that I ignored when my brother and I wiped out humanity 1.0, but I’m bringing you back so that you and your ex-wife can fight for my amusement. Try to unite humanity, or else you’ll all get wiped out again!”

For a bunch of supposedly omnipotent gods, they seem to need Oz to solve all their problems… Well… Mainly Light God, but that’s beside the point.

Like… Maybe it’s because I have my own issues where I want Salem to adopt me, and I was also spoiled by fanfics that made her sympathetic and also the ones that outright made her irredeemable in a more blatant sense, but I can’t hate Salem. It’s just not for me. Like… Sokumotanaka claims that Salem could have broken out at any time with her own power.

Okay. Then why didn’t Blake beat up Adam before Volume 5? Why didn’t any of the abuse victims beat up their abusers prior to the show?

Answer: Emotional Manipulation. They get gaslit into thinking that they’re weak. Now, obviously, this should have been shown in the flashback that the writers decided should only last one episode because they think that the audience hates backstories… Because they’re idiots who don’t actually listen to feedback, but they decided to put it in supplementary material. More on that in this video.

Now, onto Yang.

Now look: I’ve said this before. Yang is pretty much the only reason I still watch the show. I recall being pretty miffed about her being stiffed on screentime back in Volume 4, and being very upset and vocal about her being written inconsistently.

But the bar? It has to be a “wretched hive of scum and villainy” at all times for it to be considered a criminal hotspot? I really don’t want to use this card, but… Ever hear of a front? It’s a front so that they can do their shady dealings in the background. Junior’s sure as hell not going to sell out his customers! Now, it could be inferred that he is in fact, telling the truth, and that he genuinely didn’t know any of that. And yes, Yang endangering the patrons should have been a point that should have been brought up in Volume 3. Does anyone have a count for how many posts I’ve made about how that should have been a thing?- I genuinely want to know.

So really, treating me as if I’m blindly defending Yang is honestly flawed at best. And deliberately blind at worst. If Yang, or any of these characters are supposed to be “perfect” as Soku seems to imply that they should be, then the characters would be boring. There would be no flaws. Now admittedly, they really should be treated as flaws that they should overcome. But people aren’t just going to solve all of their problems. Show me a man who has made no wrong, and I’ll show you a man who has accomplished nothing. These characters are always going to have flaws to them, and while it would be nice to have the show actually acknowledge them as flaws, one has to accept that.

This is all on bad writing, and really… I think those anons that I had to deal with from before burned me out on resenting the show. This show is improving in a sense, but it ignores past transgressions that made it hard to watch back then. It’s only in the recent episode (8:4), that any past transgression was called out on… And it was Miles’ pet.

So excuse me for having opinions conflicting with yours because I focus on other details that you don’t! There are details that you focus on that I don’t. I’m not here to blindly hate the show. I’m here to try to provide an introspection on the show, what mistakes were made, how it can improve, and to provide a source of something that other people can come to for gripes, questions, or opinions.

And really… You’re a coward for vaguing about me in the first place Sokumotanaka. You could have called me out or contacted me directly, and we could have had a calm discussion about this. But instead, you comment in such a way that makes it hard to actually reply to you, and then you go on and vague about me doing things like… Having a take about Salem that you disagree with. Or defending Yang’s choices. I’m not saying that these are good choices, but if you want a perfect character that does no wrong… Then we’d be talking about the show for far different reasons. Pyrrha was the perfect character who did no wrong. And outside of her brash decisions to follow through on Oz’s ultimatum and her not turning Jaune in for forging his way in, what character flaws can you really name about her?

Pyrrha was boring. The most notable thing about her was that she was a good fighter (which didn’t matter since that applied to all the characters except Jaune at the time), and that she was attracted to Jaune of all people. And she was an attractive young woman, but outside of that, there was nothing to Pyrrha. She was a boring character. If Yang was as perfect as you seem to want her to be (I assume, considering your weird resentment of her for daring to have flaws), then we wouldn’t be talking about her being “Bad.” We’d be talking about her being boring. Same with Blake. If Blake was a flawless character who spouted everything right about how to combat oppression, then we wouldn’t be talking about her. If Weiss was actually genuine about wanting to end her company’s racism from the very start, and never had to learn a lesson on not being racist (that for some stupid as fuck reason happened OFF-SCREEN), then we wouldn’t be talking about her. Same with… all the characters.

We don’t talk about perfect characters because they’re boring. And I can’t believe I have to actually defend the writing choices here.

I’m trying to see this from an introspective point of view. Not one where the characters should make all the right decisions. Mistakes are how people and characters grow.

Now if the characters grow, is another question altogether. But given that the show is improving (even if only marginally), then there is some level of hope.

People can link this to Sokumotanaka or @ him. I don’t care. I’m tired, and I wrote this at like… 3 in the morning. This was all just to vent about some stuff that I’m tired of seeing.

So, maybe it’s because HBomb’s video raised my hopes and made me actively start looking for the good in this volume, or maybe it’s because I’ve burned out my resentment, or maybe it’s because I’m taking the table scraps of improvement that this show is giving me, but I’m finding myself liking this volume. It still has its flaws, even when it’s so early into the volume, but it’s actually looking good.

Now if only they could have improved earlier… Maybe then, this blog wouldn’t be as active as it is right now…

But anyways, vent over. I’m tired. And I want to sleep. Fucking hell… It’s 3:40 am…

#does this count as rwde?#does this count as rwby?

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yeoldontknow · 5 years ago

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Bloodletting: 4 (M+) (FINAL)

Author’s Note: for @ditzymax | this story includes graphic and extremely triggering content including but not limited to: predatory/dominating language, themes of gas-lighting, explicitly graphic violence against women, graphic depictions of blood and torture, and character death. please take every single warning on this chapter seriously and absolutely do not read if you are under 18 or uncomfortable with these warnings. | i absolutely do not condone any of these themes or actions, and all content below is written with creative license. none of these are a reflection of my character. Pairing: Taehyung x Reader (oc; female) Genre: Vampire!AU; horror; thriller; suspense Rating (this chapter): M (for violence) Warnings: predatory/dominating language; themes of emotional manipulation and abuse; explicit language; explicitly graphic violence against women; graphic depictions of torture; graphic depictions of blood; themes of gas-lighting; entrapment; character death. please take absolutely every single warning on this chapter seriously and do not read if under 18 or uncomfortable with these warnings. Word Count: 5,976

masterlist

It would be utterly ignorant to assume that I remained at your bedside while you slept.

Perhaps, even more so to assume that you were the only prey I had focused on. Fidelity or monogamy, whatever human word that could be applied to the theory of singularity, means little to me. No human is so unique: all will bleed the same, all are so painfully, achingly alive, and each is comprised of their own cadence of taste written into their DNA.

In the endless, limitless length of my existence I have found that many are more delicious than some, but you, my darling, were the flavor upon which all palettes were meant to be based. I wonder now if you knew how drunk I was on you, my mouth still tingling with your taste long after I had departed from your spent body. Could you feel me as I felt you? The iron richness of you keeping my mouth wet and cock hard for hours. Yes, there was something special about you, but it would be a lie to define myself as picky- to deny that I was, in fact, the embodiment of greed.

I always did want to tell you that I was a lush for bodily fluid. And so, it was my lack of inherent selectivity mingled with your beautifully flawed human trait of curiosity that lead you, quite gloriously, to your death.

If I had learned anything about you in the months I had spent studying your shape and mind and person, it was that indolence did not suit your character. As a natural force of habit, you always had to be moving or in the process of completing a task, otherwise the very shell, I believe the very chemistry, of you would quake with an anxious sort of boredom. After only two short days of resting in a paralysis not unlike death, you pulled yourself from sleep and began to move through the house as though your body and limbs were trapped in a sensory fog.

I was lounging in the library, reading a sixteenth century German medical text with pages still silky and waxen, when you slid into the room. Your feet hardly touched the floor, gliding, as one would believe, over the floorboards in a semi-conscious state. You were sluggish and barely lucid, eyes struggling to focus and I daresay this amused me. It was rare to see you in a state so unaware and bleary. An unusual sort of terror filled me, wondering what exactly it was about you, a mere woman, that meant you could be strong enough to even walk so soon after our joining, and I watched you with a calculating gaze in an attempt to see if something had gone wrong.

‘How long was I asleep?’ you asked, voice thick and heavy. The words rolled off your tongue at a too slow pace to even be considered coherent, and I suppressed a chuckle. So unlike you to be slow and indelicate with your speech. Gravity took hold of you as your lowered yourself into the chair opposite me, sinking and dropping into the leather like you were being molded to fill it, boneless and inelegant.

I smiled, keeping my features cordial if unable to be truly concerned. ‘Two days.’

‘Jesus,’ you sighed, closing your eyes from the effort of existing. ‘I feel sick but I didn’t think I was that bad off.’ Leaning your head back against the chair, you pressed the back of your hand to your forehead, feeling your skin and seeing that it was dry. At this, you grimaced, feeling feverish without your adrenal glands helping you through the illness.

‘Are you hungry? You should eat.’ I said the words with a powerful sharpness I knew you would be too dazed to recognize or question me on, my quizzical brow remaining unnoticed.

‘Honestly, if I eat I feel like it’ll just...come back up, you know?’

Your lack of hunger eased the nerves that arose at the sight of you on your feet. Still, you were fading, and it was working. I fought past the urge to smile and morphed my face into one of mild tenderness, mimicking the shades of worry I had noticed over time on concerned mothers.

‘Are you sure?’ I kept my voice low, though far from soothing. The rumble of it would convince you these things were one and the same.

‘Yeah.’ You paused to breathe deep, the damp sheen of your skin glistening through the effort of being alive. ‘How are you feeling? I probably gave you this or was contagious.’

I snorted, a harsh sound that echoed around the room, and I did not bother to mask its cruelty. ‘I’m fine. Perfect, really.’

‘Yes, you are,’ you breathed, somehow finding the energy to provide me a lewd smirk. ‘That was the best orgasm of my life’

Death, though many would never know or allow it to be, was perhaps the most sensual and erotic experience imaginable. The total collapse and liberation of the soul from its bodily chains is, indeed, orgasmic, and it was no surprise to me that you would have found your brief encounter with the true essence of finality absolutely breathtaking.

Thinking on this, I offered you a grin, a face I had spent decades learning how to make without the natural malice I felt it deserved.

‘Go back to sleep. You’ll feel better.’ I kept my words slow, knowing you would mistake the pace for gentleness.

You proved me right not seconds later. Even though they contained the barest hint of a command, an edge to my voice that would normally have made you shiver but instead, you blithely ignored my warning as though it were merely a request.

‘No,’ you said, heaving a shaking breath that rattled in your lungs. Shaking your head, you gripped the arms of the chair with vigor. ‘I’ve been sleeping for days. I need to move around, get my mind off how I feel...if I can.’

Grimacing, you closed your eyes and brought yourself to a stand, the action itself looking slow and painful. The anguished creaking of your bones rattled in my ears, a symphony. It would be a lie, a consideration, to say you walked away from me, legs heavy and hardly carrying you away from me. Lumbered, I think, would be the more accurate word, and I smothered a smirk that dared to pull at my cheek.

Frowning at the sight of you, I remained silent, keeping my expression placid. Your body was withering, trapped in a slow decay that would slowly consume your senses, and soon enough your limbs would give out beneath your weigh, entirely overcome. Throughout the endless and innumerable years of my existence, my engagement with the element of surprise had been reduced to little more than a slight raise of an eyebrow. And the number of times I had seen a mortal try, exert their most treasured effort to the act of living bordered on insufferable.

I’d grown used to the frail monotony of human survival and will, bored by its absurd lack of creativity. Oh, they would fight, gloriously attempt a triumphant battle that offered little sport beyond coy entertainment, but the body would never support the mind and soon they would surrender themselves to defeat.

But I had not ever considered that, perhaps one day, I would be able to surprise myself.

You had affected me, somehow brought me inches closer to humanity than I had been since, perhaps, weeks before my turning. Like a diamond stone to a blade, you had sharpened my cruelty, smoothed the edges of my glacial heart merely by turning the act of hunting you into a gleeful game of simplicity. And so, when I heard the weary, slow footsteps aimlessly drifting through the house, barely awake or even aware of your surroundings, I found myself willing you towards the attic.

How strange of me, honestly! To silently will a human towards their death days before it was truly meant to occur! But you sauntered towards your doom like a cat in heat, positively eager for it - just as you had been so wont to do from the very moment I laid eyes on you. Who was I to resist or deny the finality you so obviously craved? And you did, oh you did, even if you could not sense it, even if, when confronted with the truth, you would have combatted my every word, you inherently were called towards the majesty of it.

Just minutes after I began mentally guiding you, I heard your feet come to pause outside the attic door.

Again, I surprised myself, hearing you easily turn the knob and open the door to ascend the stairs, running the pad of my index finger over the supple flesh of my lip in thought. I had left it unlocked, such an out of character thing for me to do that it became clear to me I had been subconsciously aware that it was time; the death of a human is exquisite, but the death of a human whose face is painted with betrayal and shock is something biblical.

There was a childlike excitement to the way I leapt from the chair to reach you, the kind of excitement I reserved for silent kills and the erasure of a person's identity to hide the nature of their death - that slow, intricate peel of their fingerprints from their skin. You were slowly making your way up the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing for purchase. It felt natural to follow behind in the shadows, to lead without the obvious exertion of power. This is was my purpose, the subtle control of a person's fate without the influence of their creator.

You reached the landing and stared ahead, the muscles in your back tensing as your mind, your heart, and your soul sobered to process the sight presented before you.

The attic was a large space, one that covered the majority of the top floor of the house. At some point during the 1940's, I had it renovated to become a fully functional room, moving in the excess furniture I acquired throughout the years of my diligent collecting. Over time, I arranged the pieces and placed them specifically to act as an extra sitting area and dining area, a sort of retreat for myself should I require the dark or the solitude. The walls were lined with bookcases, featuring items not suited for my library: empty wine bottles with labels dating back to the 1700's, various vials of herbs and poisons I had been making since boyhood, the occasional skull from precious kills - a relic of the sort of young man I used to be.

The overall decor of the room was cluttered, yes, but I imagine had there not been a naked woman bleeding on the dining table the most unusual or, perhaps, eye-catching aspect of the space would have been that it was carpeted with a fifteenth century oriental rug.

Paralyzed in a state of shock and confusion, you became a more perfect version of yourself. There was an otherworldly quality to the ugliness of your panic. The way terror and anxiety seemed to grip you, course through you at a rapid pace that was at once both arousing and grotesque. I reveled in the sound of your racing heart, battling mightily against your chest as the whole of you began to swell with adrenaline.

It was a test of my will not to laugh at the way you took her in. Lingering behind you as I was, I could sense your face had mutated into a grimace of disgust at the sight of her waxy skin, glassy eyes open wide - vacant and unseeing, the pretty pink of her lips open in a silent gasp. Perhaps what horrified you most was the sight of several slits along carefully selected points of her skin, arms and legs splayed to hang over the edge of the wood. She was bleeding into crystal glasses, the blood trickling in lines down her skin to linger on the tips of fingers or toes before dripping home into the pool below. But then, that is just my guess.

Having looked your fill, you turned quickly - the fastest you had moved in days - prepared to leave or to run, only to rear back and shout at the sight of me, barely visible in the shadows.

'What the fuck is this?' you croaked, voice strained and panicked and positively erotic in your horror.

I stepped forward and sighed, my footsteps impossibly light in comparison.. 'Oh, darling.’ I sighed. ‘I know you dropped out of university, but I refuse to believe you are truly that stupid. Surely,’ I began, gesturing vaguely towards the general atmosphere of the room, ‘this is self-explanatory?'

'I-wha-who-'

You were stuttering and I was bored of your sudden dalliance with mental failure. 'Spit it out.'

'I have so many questions I don't know where the fuck to start!' You were shouting, truly frightened, but the rage within you. Oh, if you could have seen how magnificent you were.

Cocking my head to the side, I breathed you in, taking the ambrosia of your perspiration deep into my lungs. 'Why not start with the most obvious.'

'You're a murderer.' It was a statement that came without a moment's pause, confident and accusatory.

I chuckled. 'Well, that's one label I've heard for it.'

'"IT?"' you exclaimed, eyes wide. 'What the fuck do you mean "it?"'

‘Child, use your eyes and assess what you see before you. This is not a difficult test.' I pointed over to the woman, prompting you to turn for a second look.

Had you been unwilling, I’d have never known. You took everything in, consumed the details with a voracity that mirrored my own hunger and studied it with a reserved eye as your body cowered as far away from the light as you could manage. You were repulsed and I was drowning in the thrill of witnessing your mental process.

'The glasses,' you breathed, finally turning back to me with a pallor in your cheeks that turned your skin ashen.

I nodded, fingers twitching with excitement. 'The glasses.'

'Why are -’ Cutting your mumbling off, you swallowed thickly, afraid of the truth that burned against your tongue. ‘Why is she bleeding into glasses?'

Exasperated with your indolence, I growled. 'Why does anyone put something into a glass? To hang it from their ceiling? Just because they're made of crystal does not mean they lose their purpose.'

Your eyes blew wide, lips trembling in disgust as you took a step back, craving distance between our bodies. Realization looked so wonderful on you, the dread of death mixed with the sudden eclipse of total awareness of your oncoming fate. 'You're going to drink her.' It was not a question. You knew.

'I intend to, yes.' Crossing an arm over my chest, and resting the index finger of my free hand on my lips, I chanced a step towards you, humming in delight when you stumbled back. Darling, you were like candy in that moment, trying to keep distance between us but still trying to live. Can’t you see, you had never been so beautiful to me? So delectable?

'Are you a...a fucking cannibal?' You said the word like you were learning how to curse, and I wanted to break the purity of you in half.

I shook my head and stepped forward again. 'I'm not in this for the meat, child.'

Oh, your face as you understood my play on your continual use of the word 'daddy' was extraordinary. A concoction of mortification and pained betrayal - would that I could look upon such an expression until the sun dissolves.

'So-so you're a...monster.' You could barely let yourself say it, barely let the word hang in the air before speaking again, and I felt a twinge of wrath that you refused me the victory of relishing the truth after so long. 'That's impossible,’ you rationalized. ‘They aren't real, just horror stories and Halloween tales to scare kids.'

'I am very real,' I said, taking several quick steps toward you. The speed and coordination required of this failed you, limbs unprepared for such agile movements. Tripping over your feet, you collided into one of the bookcases and pressed yourself against it, neither cowering nor begging. You stood to your full height as I leered at you, extraordinarily brave. 'I believe I told you that myths will only cause you pain on that very first night we met.'

'Who is she?' you asked, gaze shifting away from me and onto the woman on the table.

I'd seen it before. Such a human thing to do - deflect and change the subject to buy themselves time. It was a last effort to make me forget who the prey was, to remind me that there were eight chalices nearly filled to the brim with warm blood for me to drink. It never served as a proof of reason for them to live, merely made me want to silence them faster.

Coming to stand directly in front of you, I rolled my eyes and readied to end this conversation. But the smell of you, darling, it was so sweet I simply took you in deep and obliged your request, happy to carry on a little longer; anticipation in the blood always made for powerful drink.

'Her name is Katya. She is twenty-three, homeless, and a prostitute.' Turning my head, I brought my eyes back to her body, the sight of her round breasts gleaming with a dried sheen of sweat, lines of her ribcage raised like a book of Braille.

'Do you only kill those society deems unworthy?'

Your voice brought my attention back to you, gaze snapping back with vigor. Your lips kissed at the word “society” with a disdain that bordered on vengeful. In your eyes, I could see the self-reflection occur, the wheels of your mind transmuting this realization into the iconography of your self-worth. But even then, you did not deflate, choosing instead to war against me, and this, my dear, was perhaps your most extraordinary trait.

'These days, yes.' I sighed. 'Oh, darling, if only you knew how hard this has become. Being me, slowly erasing humanity. It is no longer a means to survive, it has become a test of intelligence. I can't just hide the truth of my identity from you or the world, now I must also hide the truth of you.'

Closing your eyes, you attempted to sort through my words or plan an escape that would be flawed from the moment of its inception. I took that as an opportunity to continue. I would have you soon enough. I’d learned to be patient.

'It is no longer 1650, my darling. Technology and science are against me.’ I don’t know why I had decided on this lecture. Perhaps, in that moment, I was glad to share this with someone who would soon no longer exist to tell. ‘The claim of an animal attack does not suffice. I am lucky that my fingerprints were burned off as a result of my turning, but I am still burdened by weight and teeth marks. And...your colleagues. No matter how insignificant you are, someone will always notice your absence. Someone will always come looking. I cannot afford to not be neat.'

'Neat,' you repeated, weakly.

Again, I looked back at Katya. 'Do you know how long one has to drain a body of its blood after the heart stops?' I asked. You were silent. 'Well?'

'No,' you said, forcefully. 'Unfortunately that wasn't part of my biology exams.'

'It takes two hours for the blood to congeal once the heart stops. I am sure you can understand how difficult it would be to accomplish this task if one is suddenly limited to time and scientific constraints. Oh, of course I could tear open your throat and feast, but again, the mess of you would be against me.'

Under pressure, you were truly a star. Your gaze followed mine over to Katya, slowly and sympathetic, and I smiled at the sound of your breath halting momentarily before wavering an unstable continuation of its rhythm.

'So -'

I cut you off, childlike in my eagerness. 'Yes.’ I nodded. ‘Her heart is still beating.'

It was as though those words alone had ignited an inferno in your soul, adrenaline pushing you to your limits.

'You sick fuck!' you spat, positively venomous. 'She’s still alive and I get to watch her die? I'm not your accomplice!'

'No,' I said, giving you my full attention once more and the full length of my smile. 'You are my dessert.'

The struggle in you erupted with a force. Suddenly, you were trying to fight your way past me, screaming and lashing at me like a rabid beast.

'You fucking cunt! You forced me here and lead me here to fucking die!’ Oh, you were howling, battling against the rationality as a huntress. And, even I will admit, you impressed me with the strength of your tongue while your heart was ever so slowly weakening. ‘You fucking bit me-'

I rolled my eyes and stepped forward, flush against your body and caging you between my arms, pressing you back against the bookcase with ease.

'No,' I said sternly. 'You must be aware of this, my darling. Think of me what you will, but anything that has happened to you was a cause of your own consent. You invited me to your home that first night. You accepted every offer I gave. I never once had to influence my will over you. Do you realize how stunningly perfect that makes you?'

I pressed my face against your cheek when you fell silent, recalling every yes and every please you had ever said, admiring the warmth your skin radiated as I inhaled a deep breath of your scent. My eyes rolled back into my head, then, and it was an extraordinary act of will not kissing you, letting my lips have their fill of your cheekbone.

‘How dare you manipulate my consent?’ you exclaimed, offering the pretense of shock but even then, deep down, I could sense the flames of shame burrowing in your belly.

'I would be so good for you, darling,' I whispered, so close to your ear I was positively humming with the urge to bite it and tear it free. ‘I would make it sweet for you. For you, death would be something sublime. I can take the pain of it away. Every second, with every breath, you’ll beg me for more, to sink my teeth deeper, to suck -’ I took my time to linger on the word ‘suck,’ licking lightly at your jawline. ‘Harder,’ I finished. You shivered and I nipped at the plump sinew of your cheek.

As I spoke, you shut your eyes, teeth coming to bite your lip with a vulnerability that was electrifying. There was a quake to your bones I found myself becoming addicted to and, for a moment, I found that I would miss your sensuous displays fear once they were gone.

But even in this moment, quiet and still and breathing the last, sweet drops of oxygen your tongue would taste, you still were on the edge of choice. Just as you had always been, the thought of finality, the peace of it, teased you. You did not rush to a denial, you simply lingered, considering me and considering yourself, weighing the length of your life in a single moment.

‘Or,’ I hummed, toying with your silence.

‘Or?’ The flutter of your eyes as they opened made me bark out a laugh, the hope you had somehow managed to find rooted itself your irises positively charming. And you chose to believe it, if only for a single, fleeing exhale.

Letting my hand come to your hip, I held your waist firmly, watching you as though I were watching the Devil. ‘I can offer you eternity.’

The slow widening of your eyes enthralled me, the way the blood rushed from your cheeks, leaving you to appear sickly and frail. I saw you then as a statue, waiting to be cracked.

‘Oh, think of it darling!’ I exclaimed in a low hiss, imagining a companion, one I would not need but one that would burn through the world with me, a partner, a lover, a bride. I did not think then of love or lovelessness, only of the blood I could kiss from your lips. ‘I could take you on as my apprentice. Finally become your ‘daddy.’ After all, isn’t that man’s true purpose?’ I buried my face into your neck and inhaled. ‘To breed?’ The words were released as a growl, and I couldn’t resist pressing my hips just a little harder against your groin just to make you whine involuntarily.

‘What if,’ you began, voice dry and suddenly unafraid. ‘I choose to live.’

I reared my head back, far away from your skin, and chuckled, amused by your endless will to negotiate.

‘Darling, that is not a choice you have been offered,’ I chastised, shaking my head. My grip on your waist tightened, demanding that you listen. ‘Do you know what I’ve learned in all my years? The only gospel truth that absolutely rings true? It’s that governments rise and fall, people plead for peace and amnesty, but the only thing that seems to carry on throughout the meaningless wasteland of human life is that everyone craves a little death. War and greed and death, it’s in every living thing’s nature. And I am giving it to you! Twice over! You will never, ever be in such control of your fate as you are now.’

You took in my words, eyes searching my face for some kind of a trick or sign of insincerity. After several moments, you gripped the wrist of my hand that was still around your waist and sighed.

‘Let go of me.’

I cocked an eyebrow and stared at you.

‘Please,’ you said politely.

It is important to understand that you had made a choice. It was there, lingering behind your eyes and I could see that you had settled on something, though I could not have been sure what that choice entailed. This was the tragedy of you, the utter tragedy of your story. From the moment I laid eyes on you, my love, you were always in control of your own choices. There was a will at your core that could never be swayed, and, I assume, if I had tried to use my influence over you it would only have had the weakest effect. This was your greatest gift and, you would argue, your downfall; the total control you had over yourself meant every choice belonged entirely to you, and every choice somehow lead you into my arms.

And, perhaps, the barest shreds of mercy had been left inside me, lingering in the crevices of me unwilling to fully decay, because I obliged you. As soon as I released you, I could read the details of your decision all over the furrow of your brow and the heroic glow of survival resonating from your lungs to your ribs to your hands.

I was only too eager to extinguish it.

My hand had barely left your hip before you launched yourself at me, punching me with a surprising force before starting off at a groggy, sagging run. I sighed and took in the sight of you, your slow moving limp and the haggard way you breathed, quickly moving to plant myself in front of your body. Your shoulders slumped, heartbreaking at the sight of me standing so tall and so unfazed by the brush of your fist with my jaw.

This was not the first time I had been punched, nor would it be the last I imagined, but it was indeed the first time someone had stood before me - the poison of me still coursing through them - and remained tall, and fierce, and unbroken. I hated tarnishing this spirit, a spirit so perfectly suited for the life I lead.

It took little effort, walking you backwards to the bookshelf once again, just a few steps that had you racing away from me. We found ourselves in a similar position, your chest rising in even breaths, eyes locked on mine and choosing to not look away from me. You kept choosing to match me, choosing to keep me near you, choosing me. How was I ever to let you go?

Bringing my face inches from yours, I ran my lips over your slick flesh, the scent of you enhanced by the poison. Your heart beneath your sternum was a hummingbird, fragile and delicate, but the thunder of you rattled like wildfire. Running my hands over your hips, I smelled and smelled and smelled you, leaving the barest of touches against your skin as I spoke.

‘I have thought about killing you since I first saw you,’ I mumbled to myself, unbothered by your small whimper of understanding. ‘In my head, I have planned an infinite amount of ways to break you down.’

‘Fuck you,’ you choked out.

Smiling, I ignored you. ‘I could disembowel you, suck the blood from your still warm organs and feast on you until you were nothing but skin and bone.’

Growling, you raised your knee and thrust it against my groin. With a hiss, I chuckled, and pressed you harder against the bookshelf. Turning your head to the side your lifted your eyes, and fell still, pausing for a moment before you looked back, truly awoken.

‘I will choose how I die,’ you bit out, the power of you so intoxicating. ‘My life and my death are my choice alone.’

Pulling back, I fixed you with a curious stare, intrigued by your ramblings. In all my years, I had never heard these words, and the barest embers of excitement ignited within my spirit. You meant it, every word that spilled from your tongue contained a conviction I had not heard from a mortal since the French Revolution, when men were passionate and the women were lonely.

‘You can give me eternity,’ you said, eyes casting a glance over to Katya. Briefly, you bit the inside of your cheek, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you considered your words. ‘But you will not make me into an ornament.’ And when you looked at me once more, had I been alive and mortal and small, I imagine I would have trembled. ‘I deny you the pleasure of playing with your food.’

Pursing my lips, I regarded you in silence, hearing the tumble and timber of your heart. No one had ever challenged me, dared to fight me a cruelty that matched mine. In that moment, I had never wanted you more.

‘You know what this life requires?’ I challenged, reminding you of the scandalized expression you wore at the sight of a body. ‘The blood you will coax from people.’

‘Yes.’ For such a quiet word, the echo of it surprised you, catching you off guard before you pulled my hand from your body, gripping my wrist tightly. ‘But I am going to teach you how to really move a woman. And my choice,’ you paused, tone even and commanding, ‘will be your choice until the sun goes black.’

Raising my hand up to the shelf just above your head, you pressed it against an empty wine bottle, one I had saved from a special night on a ship from Calais to Dover in which I had drank every passenger dry. Lowering the bottle to just below your neck, you tilted your neck and I positively wailed in delight.

‘Oh, darling,’ I whispered, utterly pleased into spun gold. ‘I do love it when you choose.’

Pressing the sharp nail of my thumb into your throat, I pierced your skin as through it was silk, burying the finger into your neck and watching the crimson of you spill. Wrapping my free arm around your waist, I held you to me, looking deep into your eyes and into the ravenous war of your soul, and saw the truth of you while I made the pain disappear. As your pupils slowly dilated, I saw the trauma of your brief existence, the insignificance and the pain of it, all of it until the moment you realized life was little more than a series of hurts and this was the moment you would be free of the shackles that bound you to constant survival.

Placing the tip of the bottle beneath my thumb, I slowly removed my nail to ease the bottle into the hole I had created, draining you into the glass. You fell limp against me, humming demands into my ear that made my mind race, already envision you as a creature of war and death.

‘You will never drink from this bottle,’ you mumbled, words garbled and messy, but still I heard them. ‘I want you to remember the death you were denied.’

My mouth watered and my cock stirred, aroused by the torture of keeping you near me, always. No one had learned me quite as easily as you had, so full to the brim of witnessing me. This, darling, was the surprise of you.

When your eyes began to fall closed, so near passing, I removed the bottle and quickly placed my mouth to your skin. In this sense, darling, you were my first - the first I had turned, the first who had learned to challenge me, the first to deny me of things I wanted to call mine. The first I imagined I could truly crave, for any extended period of time beyond the brief affair between life and death. Turning you was an effort I had never imagined would be so easy, letting my poison be pulled to your open pores and ignited into molten gold. Holding you tight, you writhed against me, sputtering and moaning as your teeth gnawed against your tongue.

And when you stilled, I felt the wetness on my cheeks, remembering my own turning - the violence of it and Sonia’s pathetic, glassy eyes - and hated you. Hate, which so easily is mistaken for love, all of it burning together and forcing me to truly, fully remember humanity before it faded into little more than nostalgia. I had sucked you into me, keeping all that human newness and softness in my bones until you stirred against my shoulder.

Glaring down, ready to tear you from me as dead weight, I saw the silver of you, the effervescent nature of your eyes and craved, more than ever, to always see the moon in your irises.

Eight months without you now, my loss of you a tragedy that leaves me so encumbered, and I think of you often, when the moon is full and high and red. Other kills, men and women alike, have come and gone, none as vital and alive, yet, conversely so long past the point of living, as you. The bottle of your blood lingers on my shelf, and sometimes I feel you, hunting and warring against the world much like me. I’ve pressed similar bottles to lithe necks and hoped they would regard me with the same rage as you, missing the way it felt to look upon the purity of such an expression. They never do, and in this I scowl, forever aware that you have left me absent.

The bottle lingers, and at the sight of it, I think, much like tonight, that you were my favourite.

End Journal #826

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ashfaqqahmad · 5 years ago

Text

Faith versus Logic Final

Could Shara’s rule be an ideal system?

Click here to read the previous part of this article

If you want to give the example of Sharia law as an example of low crime rate and safe environment, and then also consider that ten countries of the world with the lowest crime rate Iceland, Denmark, Austria, New Zealand, Portugal, Czech Republic, Switzerland, Canada, Japan, and Slovenia are there— so why not their system is ideal?

Sharia laws were defined at a time when there was a tribal culture in Arabia – the monarchy was the system. In that era, there were often wars for animals, women, domination, and expansion of power, in which women were widowed largely— to support them, more than one marriage or to make them mistress was allowed… what wars are happening now?

If the people living there accept it due to happiness or helplessness, but even if enjoying full civil liberties in democracy, the Sharia system of Saudi Arabia is attracting you, where there are restrictions at every step, then you are religiously ill— and you don’t want to think anything beyond faith. Even in that system, this thinking of mine will also come under Blasphemy because I raised the questions, whose punishment is death— do you want such a system? I really do not want it. The one who follows another religion cannot get citizenship there nor can he adopt his method of worship.

How did humans start their journey on earth

And in India, those who are advocates of Sharia seen wandering here and there – there is a request to them that even if our rule is a democracy, but as a true believer, they should apply the Sharia to themselves and don’t do anything which is wrong or a crime with the Shariah. For example—

Avoid the interest-bearing banking system— immediately cash whatever mutual funds, shares, FDs you have. Avoid stealing power, which is the most common custom among Muslims. If photos are not allowed in the house, then break the TV and throw it away. Since porn is also available on mobile and you can see a picture/video of unknown women on Facebook etc., then quit using your Smartphone and keep a simple buttoned mobile. Do not wear tight clothes (jeans, t-shirt, etc.). On the way, getting-up or sitting, do not look at any girl and woman. The Sharia has made the daughter a shareholder in the property, immediately give her due right to your sisters or daughters. These are the deeds which Momins are doing indiscriminately— the rest things like gambling, liquor, womanizing, are a different issue.

If you can do this much then try doing it, then after that, if you talk about Sharia law or Sharia, only then your say will matter to the people.

Did God make a man or the man, made God?

God created man or the man, made the God— this dispute may never be resolved, but an unseen God is in existence ever since the first human being in the world would have found first hope amid awe. Fear and hope – right here begins the God, and even though he may not have been known in any particular way then, but as man became smarter, God too became accepted in different forms and its separation is the prevalent “religion” at present.

Where did religion come from and how logical from the point of view of science?

The real meaning of religion is not what is in front of everyone in the world today, but its practical meaning is this— you are Hindus, I am Muslim, that is a Sikh, that is a Christian and that is Jew.

So for a while, free yourself from this tilak, cap, cross, turban— and find out what is religion? What is its real form— why is it and what has it given to you? What are you achieving from this religion?

Leave the past in the past, whatever was written in those books, was according to the circumstances of that time, was written to handle the humans of that time. Come in the present and think, can it be a religion to abuse someone, or to speak to someone with love should be the religion?

Can it be religious to hate someone or to love someone should be the religion? Taking someone’s life should be a religion or to save someone’s life? To take away someone’s right can be religion or to help any poor fellow to get his right? Can injustice done to someone be religion or give/help to get justice? To torture, someone with the opposite ideology can be religion or to give respect to people of other ideology?

Think as many questions like these as you can think, think those questions with closed eyes and introspect yourself honestly. Test your answers on the criterion of religion you have been carrying from generation to generation. Think, brainstorm what religion was for— why there was a need for religion and how you are practising that religion. Among Hindus too, “Meditation” is said to be the way to seek God and to connect oneself with him and in us too it is called “Salat”.

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Salat means meditation, that is, attaching oneself to God— the Prophet adopted this Salat as “Namaz”, Sufis in some other form— but later on people adopted Namaz as a rule and today its meaning is lost somewhere. Do not ask me this question, but ask yourself whether you reach that state of “meditation” in Namaz? That you feel connected to Allah or does your mind keep wandering in worldly additions/subtractions? Remains stuck in High pyjama or Skull cap? Do you find yourself ever close to “Salat”? If not, find out the reason for that.

However, if by churning so much you do not get this pearl of knowledge, that to hurt someone is not a religion, but to help in someone’s suffering, to help him overcome his suffering is religion— then be sure, that there is a lacking in you being a human.

Religion, Iniquity and Foul-Iniquity

Here people are often seen asking the question, what is religion? So the question is right in its place but the answers of those in front can be different… Actually, when you say Religion in English or ‘Mazhab’ in Urdu, it has a direct and only meaning— The particular ideology, creed, the enclosure bound with the law of uniformity— but when you say ‘Dharm’ in Hindi, then it has two meanings. The first meaning that is commonly practised is Religion itself.

If God is there then how can it be from the point of view of science

But what it has as another meaning is, in fact, the actual meaning of the word “Religion”. Your good deeds— your behaviour that is in harmony with the welfare of humans, that actually is the religion. Now understand this in detail—

Every small or big practice of your entire life is divided into only three parts— Religion, Iniquity and Foul Iniquity. Maybe you ever gave attention to this or not— but every little or big work of yours, every small or big decision taken at every step of your life, comes only under these three rules.

Telling the truth, supporting the truth, living honestly, avoiding false deception, doing justice, to support the justice, to stand for the rights of the victim, to stand against the cruelty, not doing injustice, helping others, avoiding illegal, excluded and selfish deeds that are outcaste by society, means to say that everything you do for the betterment and welfare of human beings… is actually religion.

And on the contrary, whatever you do, the result of which is harmful, troublesome to any human being, which gives suffering… will come under the purview of Iniquity.

Now there is a link between them, that is, your acts which may seem iniquitous to appear but religion is hidden in them— that is a ‘Foul-Iniquity’ You can understand this with two or three examples— You lie in a place where telling the truth can be harmful to one or more humans— then that lie of yours is Foul-Iniquity. You steal somewhere, where the stolen goods have the welfare of others hidden behind them and not your selfishness, then that theft is a Foul-Iniquity.

You stand somewhere with a Cruel, and there you can help the victims in any way, then it is a Foul-Iniquity to stand with that cruel. You may or may not understand this, but every activity of yours is tied to these rules. And the interesting thing you will find is that it is the core of all religions. On this basis in the Gita, the ‘Kauravas’ were declared unjust by Lord Krishna, or else they also believed in the worship of God and other things— and in fact, “Kafir” in Islamic Mythology has also been determined on this basis. People derive the meaning of ‘Kafir’ as an atheist or non-Muslim according to their own belief.

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Whereas, as a religious person, whatever rituals of worship, Aarti, Pilgrimage, Roza Namaz, Hajj, Zakat, etc. have you mistaken as religion, they, can be called the flattering methods or ritualism of God, but it is not the real religion. Real religion is your good conduct, with which if you do these rituals, then in a way we can see them as religion, but alas that it does not happen in practice.

The real religion is Humanity and not these worship methods

Let’s give many examples of this and explain— A true Momin believes in himself that by doing Namaz, keeping Roza, and doing Haj, he is doing a lot of good work and he will get a lot of praise for it – but while he sits at the shop and lying to the customer that this much of this merchandise is purchased, he can give it in that much— though this is not true. He is performing all the good rituals but he is sitting on the rented or untitled land occupied by a house or shop. The stolen light is glowing in the house and after washing himself with water pulled with that stolen electricity, he is reciting Namaz. He is eating sacred food made on the heater burning with that stolen electricity.

Consuming water, fans, lights obtained by direct theft or rigging of the electricity in the mosque, is washing himself and performing Namaz— Performs Haj and becomes a Haji with the money acquired through bribes, commissions, frauds, rigging or by other illegal means. Performing Namaz by surrounding roads as religious work, doing processions, even if all traffic is disrupted, may someone miss their train, plane or bus… or may someone die in an ambulance.

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Similarly, a true Hindu by applying a Tilak on the forehead, ties a red thread in his hand, chanting Ram-Ram day and night, keeps on ringing bells for hours in temples— but at the same time lies, deceits, manipulations, deception are all being done. Donating from the money saved through commissions, bribe, black marketing, stealing tax. The religious pandals are decorated with stolen electricity. Narrating religious stories by installing big loudspeakers, DJ sound— whether there are sick people around, children going through exams or people are going crazy by the noise.

They have been occupying the streets in the name of Ganapati, Navratri, Kanvar processions, even though the traffic system is collapsing. By surrounding the roads in the name of Jagran or big sacred type of religious events and causing problems for the people wandering around— by making noise pollution from the heavy sound systems, making people around it sick— but thinking that he is doing very religious work and this will give him great virtue, which will lead him to salvation or heaven.

In the name of religion, all these people who commit hypocrisy, pretence are in deception— they are confused as to whether they are doing any religious work worth virtue. Actually, while knowing all of this, he is engaged in wrongdoing with closed eyes and it is not that he has is no feeling of it… he has it and to erase the guilt created by this feeling, they try to show that they are very religious people and continue to prove others as trivial, by making a lot of noise from personal life to social media.

What do you think are these religious people and if there is a God/Allah will he be happy with them? So by putting yourself in his place and thinking about it, maybe instead of being happy on their gimmicks, you will reel off their skin by hunter until they do not truly understand the difference between religion and Iniquity.

इस लेख को हिंदी में पढ़ने के लिये यहाँ क्लिक करें

#religion and science #islam #faith vs fact #faith and logic #athiesm

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