#it was not a lack of inspiration but an excess thereof | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rpbetter · 3 years

Note

Hey, can I get some advice on improving my descriptions / becoming more literate? I feel like I'm really dull when it comes to my writing and would like some advice! Thank you!

You absolutely can, thank you for asking! I apologize it took me a bit to get to this, tumblr didn’t show me notifications and I’ve been rather busy. Hopefully, I can offer some good advice!

Please, keep in mind that, as always, it is just my advice. If these things do not work out for you, don’t feel bad about it! You just need to find what does work for you. And, if you have anything that jumps out at you that you wish me to elaborate more on, or even that simply occurs to you more specifically to ask as you read, please, do ask! I am always happy to have those questions, of course.

Being more literate in itself can help. It can also be a hindrance, however, as we tend to compare ourselves to others negatively. I’d say not to do that, but it’s something you have to unlearn, not something you can simply stop doing. We’re taught a lot of self-criticism by comparison in both the educational system and our society. You’ve got learn to approach material you enjoy as just that, something you enjoy, not a standard you need to uphold. All writers should be unique, they’re all individual people! I think the death of a good many unwritten works hinges on that, honestly; the writer couldn’t live up to their own expectations, born of comparison to their literary heroes.

That being said? Read.

Read new and diverse things, and revisit old favorites. Learn as many words as you can in whatever way works best for you; through reading alone, through word of the day apps, or looking up novel words you run across/looking up words as you write to compare them to synonyms. I know, tumblr has gotten really nasty in recent years about writers who seem to have “regurgitated a thesaurus.” There is always a bad way to do something good, there are always excesses when you’re passionate about something. Don’t replace every third word with an exotic one simply because you think it looks better. Do replace words that are, legitimately, better in how they evoke the setting or mood you are going for. Remember that word flow is important, perhaps especially when it comes to descriptions.

If you do not tend to read much material that is description heavy, I’d suggest doing so. Try to find works that are still descriptive, but fit with the genres you like to both read and write the best to get you started, but don’t stay there exclusively. It doesn’t need to be something like...let’s say, Tolkien. Not to piss anyone off, I’m not anti-Tolkien or anything, but I could never get into his works, regardless of interest or effort, because they’re so description heavy, and in ways that don’t pique or hold my interest much. So, if you find that you are not into description laden works, that isn’t a poor reflection on you! It’s more likely that you simply aren’t into those specific works, you need to find something that is more of interest to you, personally.

If you do tend to read many works that are descriptive at all, take up a few of your favorites and pick some passages within them that you enjoyed the most. Ones that you could feel. When they described an outfit, you not only saw it, you saw the way it moved on the character, knew what it would feel like to touch it. When they described a setting in nature, you had a sensory experience there as well; you could smell the hyper-specific scent of wildflowers on a warm breeze, or the electric chill of a sudden summer storm moving in.

Ask yourself what does this for you so that you can experiment with doing it yourself. Is it the words, the word flow? Is it what the author isn’t saying, leaving the reader to automatically fill in with their own sensory recollections? There are so many ways of being descriptive in writing, as many as there are writers, and as many as there are things to be descriptive about.

So, it’s, again, a bit of a situation of finding what naturally pulls you into those descriptions yourself. While there are always good rules that can apply across the board with writing, it is a creative art. If you’re only following the rules others have set down, you can end up feeling negative about the process, yourself, and the product...or your readers/RP partners feel like the work is lacking or boring. Even when people can’t quite put their finger on something, forced work feels forced, unnatural, or lacking substance.

Diversify what you consume.

I know, I just said that thing about the familiar stories! Once you’re better able to identify what it is that stands out as evocative to you, though, you can better feel that in unfamiliar works. You can get a better idea of how language itself works as a living thing. Read some things out of your usual genres, ask for recommendations from friends or family who read, check out some older works, and even follow some blogs that post a variety of poetry quotes or full poems.

Reading song lyrics and a variety of other spoken-word style things like slam poetry and rap is helpful as well. They’re all doing the same here, evoking imagery and emotion. That is what you are trying to do as well! These formats, additionally, use highly evocative words to describe in a shortened way. They are great for realizing unique ways that familiar words can be paired.

By going outside of your usual bounds, you may encounter words, writing styles, and other descriptive qualities you hadn’t considered before. If you don’t, you still end up with a fuller grasp on writing itself. Everything is a potential learning experience if you are willing to approach it that way! Use it to play around with words and styles, Use this as experimentation, and realize that it is perfectly alright for it not to work out. That’s part of the exercise of finding what works for you; realizing what doesn’t work.

When you have some ideas of what makes you experience the things being described, practice. Pick anything. In fact, incredibly mundane, irrelevant things are perfect for this. If you can describe a sock in good detail, in a way that isn’t either inaccurate or boring, giving it relevance and life, you can describe anything.

Use ask memes and writing prompts, and write them out from your character’s perspective.

Even if you are not writing a first person account, it helps you to use narrative language that the muse might use, or that gives the reader a intuitive feeling for the muse. Don’t try to fill the whole thing up with descriptions. Sometimes, just simplifying is a good thing, and will help more relevant details stand out.

For example, I will often use things in the environment around my muse to help pair with, further denote, and give the reader a feeling for the muse’s emotions, psychological state, and so on. If that muse is in a hectic state, I’m not going to describe something in the environment that isn’t, like a peaceful meadow. I’m going to describe the seeming chaos of some ants in the grass taking apart their food, the erratic seeds or spores on the wind, or the clatter of an old farm truck on the roadway that breaks up the peace of the surroundings.

It’s a very different effect than describing the entire meadow in high detail, in ways that are perceptible to my muse and not, down to a blade of grass or a rock. It then takes over too much of my reader’s imaginative process and agency without giving them anything of nonnegotiable importance about the scene or the muse. Details that reflect a state of internal distress, like the ants, seeds, or truck, then fall by the wayside of this massive scene-setting I’ve done. And, as unfortunate as it is, if you are writing RP especially, your audience is looking for details that are pertinent and impactful. They’re likely to, intentionally or otherwise, skip several paragraphs of descriptions no matter how beautiful they are.

Since you just said “descriptions” and “writing” {nothing wrong with that, I just want to be sure I’m covering as much as possible that might be of help to you}, I’m not sure if you are meaning external descriptions or more internalized, character-driven ones, and not sure if you are writing only RP, only traditional writing, or a combination thereof.

As I said above, using descriptions that reflect things about the muse is useful and interesting, regardless of how or what you are writing. So, even if you were not meaning internalized descriptions, doing the things I’m about to talk about relating to this will still be helpful!

Internalized descriptions include things like: mood, thoughts, memories, and sensory perception.

To do these things any justice, you have to really know your muse, be able to experience things from their unique perspective and not just your own - or just what you wish the reader to experience through them.

If you didn’t have inspiration for the muse, you wouldn’t be writing them, but inspiration isn’t the same as knowing them as well, maybe better, than yourself. To do that, it is a process of learning and experimentation...and practice.

Those memes I mentioned above? Those are useful here, too! It doesn’t matter if it isn’t an ask meme you want to reblog, or if no one sent you anything from it; you can find a variety of memes, save them, and ask yourself the questions.

On sentence memes, or “starter memes,” ask yourself what your muse’s internal reaction to having that sentence said to them would be, how it might externalize (or not), and if these things are true, or just your perception/what you would like to have happen. If you’ve developed this muse from scratch or spent time learning them from canon, you should have some pretty good ideas as to how they’ll feel. Expand on that instinctive or learned idea. Does it change if a different muse or character type says this? Say it is an inflammatory sentence, something accusatory, derogatory, or pushy. Do they react the same way if a loved one says it instead of a stranger? How about a person who is obviously intoxicated, or a person who is under the influence of youth, so to speak? Take that, and write out two different scenarios.

On ask, or “headcanon/development memes,” pick a question and answer it yourself. Just answer it in depth. Now, have your muse answer that question. You may notice that the muse didn’t want to answer as clearly, is lying or omitting things, and/or had other thoughts generated by that question. If you didn’t already do it this way, answer the question again as a story in which your muse goes through those thoughts. Describe their emotions using words that carry the same emotional resonance, not all descriptions need to be lengthy if the right words, right word order, are found for optimum impact on the reader. Write out the thoughts they are having, just as messy as they are naturally having them.

Outside of memes, you have yet more options for helpful exercises that get you in touch with your muse and your writing.

Try out photography and inspiration blogs. Pick a some pictures that drew your attention, and write about them descriptively. Write out how the picture makes you feel, what it makes you think about. Practice not just describing how something looks, but how it would feel to be there. Using the same pictures, write as your muse in the same way. Put them in this scene to give their experiences. It helps you get a grasp on putting impressions and experiences down in creative ways that allow others to experience it the same way, and it helps you more easily step into your muse’s mind and experiences.

Seeing things through your muse’s eyes (through the lens of their life experiences, preferences, biases, emotions, and thoughts) is critical in giving authentic descriptions. To do more of this, you can practice in every day life. Even if you cannot write it out, or write it out yet, you can consciously think as your muse. If your muse was watching this TV show or hearing this song, what would they think? Don’t just answer as, “they would/n’t like it.” Answer as to why they would or would not, what it makes them feel and think. You can continue doing this with your muse’s impressions of different environments and people.

You can even simply contemplate an emotion and how your muse feels and expresses it.

Adding on underlying and overarching emotions to the mix as you go along; emotion, and thought, is complex. We very rarely are only angry, sad, or happy. We are very rarely only thinking of a single thing, and even rarer, thinking of it out of nowhere. It’ll help you identify the way your muse experiences emotion and thought, as well as how best to describe these things.

For example, I write a muse that can easily present as simply being quiet and angry. Additionally, as the character develops, his actions and general behavior can seem to not match well with his overall, genuinely kind nature. It’s necessary for me as a writer to identify where the anger comes from, what its components are; it isn’t just anger. It’s built on the things anger so often is; frustration, sadness, and fear. It gives the reader insight and helps delineate the muse’s expression of “anger.” When the anger is coming more from a place of insulation and protection than it is frustration, it presents differently.

I describe the sensation of the most obvious emotion, the anger, but also the underlying states that have led to it being apparent. How it really feels to be a wounded animal in a corner. I describe an experience or two pertaining to the emotional pain and fear, keep it relevant throughout the text in callbacks (what set him off is related to those experiences in some way, and during or after the experience of anger, those other situations are referenced again). Maybe it is an outright flashback, maybe it is less thematically stated. The descriptions I use, again, of his surroundings-not just his expressions, tone of voice, or movements-denotes that he is in this particular state of mind. He might notice similarities in the environment relating to a previous bad experience, since he is in that mindset, or he might be noticing things in a more critical way than he normally would. Things he might see every day are being processed as hateful in some way; garish or otherwise visually displeasing, might be seen as outright harmful, or even menacing. Bold colors, sharp lines, stand out. Things come into high relief and are painted in large swaths of color, the minute details missing suddenly.

Further, you can think of things that make your own similar state of mind so much worse in these situations. Is there a repetitive sound in the background? Is the person he is speaking with seemingly blowing him off in some way? Is he hungry, tired, thirsty, in physical pain? I then write those things throughout as additional, building irritants.

Using your personal experiences isn’t a bad thing, I really wish tumblr hadn’t gotten into that mindset. Unless you really have written a 100% self-insert character, they shouldn’t experience things exactly as you do, no. However, you have a basis to go off of already when you are describing their inner life; your own.

Maybe you have never been so wracked with grief that you collapsed, but you have been caught up in a significant loss of some sort that you can build upon. If you can better imagine what your muse’s experience is, you can describe it not only better, but also in a way that reads as legitimate. It’s not a description of grief that you could have gotten from anywhere else, doesn’t have cliché lines in it about grief, such as, “though he was drowning in an ocean of loss, he knew he had to be strong for his friends, so, he put on a brave face.” (There are other issues with that, but that’s a whole other post!)

My point is, you have the tools of accurate inner life within you, and you should use them to build that accuracy in your writing. Again, play with the words and structure, make sure you are building the feelings or otherwise being immersive about them. Keep them throughout the thread, do not have a muse magically become the opposite of what you’ve described because it is no longer convenient, and do not forgo little reminders that the muse feels the way they do, no matter what their actions might be saying.

When you describe your muse’s actions that are being influenced by an emotion, good or bad, use words that evoke the emotion while describing those actions.

If the muse is very sad, do not use words that bring to mind vivacity and passion. Don’t use metaphors that bring to mind those same things. Your muse doesn’t slink like a jungle cat to the table when depressed, but they might move in a daze, like a shadow, or a have to put maximum effort into their every step as though heading to their own execution.

I don’t think anyone should describe, let alone to an extreme, every action their muse undertakes, but when you are imparting these things with emotional tone or thought processes, it really shouldn’t be done. It’s exhausting for you to write, and just as exhausting for your reader, who is very likely going, okay, we get it, she’s angry. Like the descriptions of the surroundings, try to keep it to important and telling actions. You needn’t describe your muse’s every eye movement, but if they are so embarrassed they’re having trouble keeping eye contact, or so annoyed they glare, that is a description you want to add.

Writers never seem to forget facial expressions or dramatic body movements, which is reasonable, considering how visual a species humans are, but quite often forgo tone of voice and word pronunciation entirely. These are great ways to denote what your muse is feeling. Consider how your muse speaks most often, whether they work at proper pronunciation and hiding an accent, or if they simply let their most natural speech flow. Then, consider how different emotions might impact that. I’m not talking about the only go-to many muns on tumblr have, the “my muse speaks -first language here- when angry” thing. I’m talking about your muse entering into any emotion strongly enough to drop crisp pronunciation, outright mess up familiar and easy words, stumble, stutter, or pause. Write emotion into your muse’s speech, and don’t keep it to adding things like, “said angrily.”

That’s telling, not showing, and is the death of descriptive writing of any sort.

Doing any of the above in a document is highly recommended. Not only are you less likely to encounter tumblr eating your drafts as you work on them, you have more freedom to open it up later and play around with the structure. Additionally, writing directly on the platform can be distracting in more ways than just the desire to dash scroll! It can make you feel like you need to be doing what you owe instead, need to be responding to messages, posted memes, comments. Taking it off site feels more like your own space and time for experimentation.

I know this was long, and covered many points (though, it could always use more). So, I’m going to kind of rehash some below!

For learning and inspiration:

read things both familiar and not in order to figure out what sort of descriptions speak to you, then practice doing them yourself

read a variety of works, not just books, and not just new books; oftentimes, the lessons in older books will stand out to you even more for using descriptions that are no longer common. Those lessons still hold, like the very act of using common, highly recognizable objects and settings to describe a person, place, or thing. In those cases, see what you can rewrite that would give the same feeling using things that are currently so recognizable

don’t count out things like music and poetry, they flow with emotion and it is imperative that they give emotion and setting in unique ways

use ask/starter memes, pictures, and even common situations occurring around you to experiment with both writing descriptions and getting into your muse’s mindset

think on your own experiences with your environment and emotions

consider how your muse’s perceptions may change based upon thoughts and emotions, and/or how you can describe the setting to reflect and drive home these factors

really get to know your muse by exploring headcanon memes, giving yourself a refresher on their canon (yes, even if you wrote it), and comparing and contrasting your experiences with your muse’s on the same topics

experiment with new words, their use, and their flow

seriously, practice! Outside of writing you intend for anyone else to ever see!

Things to Remember:

you are unique as a person, therefore, you are unique as a writer...and that is a good thing, you just need to find what works for you

describe things that are important in setting the scene in ways that are not just visual; be emotive, and pick things that have bearing on the immediate topic

don’t forget that your muse’s voice and spoken words use can, and should be, impacted by thoughts and feelings

just like you, your muse is unlikely to see the same objects in the same light under any manner of strong emotional influence

also just like you, who is saying something and in what context is extremely important in how your muse reacts internally and how that is presented externally; if your muse feels and reacts the same way no matter the other party, they’re a little cardboard and you’re not being descriptive or thoughtful enough

listen, if you just really need to describe something utterly irrelevant to live another second? That’s fine, but you need to make it relevant. Perhaps, your muse noticed the cracks on that rock because they’re in an altered state - be that by way of a substance, or an emotion

there is a reason why we use clichés, and I am not going to say they should never be used, just that you should try to be more creative with them, and they should always be viable ones that truly match the mood

the same is true of words, we have some words that are just so commonly expressive of sensations and emotions that they come up quite often, but again, try to find something similar if possible, and always make sure it’s still evoking the right thing

I repeat: get in touch with your muse, even if you do not write them from first person. The language you use as a writer to describe them and their world is better if it feels like them

no support for tumblr’s anti-wordiness, but huge support for optimizing word use for maximum impact

to that end, if you’re a RPer, even a fic writer, please know that your desire to write descriptively isn’t going to be appreciated by some people. That’s their fucking loss, and you are better off without them. You will find the audience that will properly appreciate what you’re doing!

I hope some of this helped to give you some starting points you might not have thought of!

#rp advice #writing advice #descriptive writing #Anon E. Mous #answered

27 notes · View notes

fandom-pardes · 4 years

Text

According to halacha, which actions are Azula liable for?

Reposted from my Tumblr.

One of my favorite ways to study Jewish texts is to take a fictional character or situation and examine it through the lens of Jewish text and tradition.

I’ve done this before with ABC’s Once Upon A Time. Now I’m going to take up this exercise again with Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Before I begin, a few things to keep in mind.

I’m not a Talmud scholar.

There is no definitive Jewish Opinion™ about any issue pertaining to halacha. Unanimous opinions on halacha are so rare that when we find one, we assume something went wrong in the process..

Azula is a morally polarizing character in AtLA fandom. Regardless of who you ask, you’re bound to get some strong opinions about exactly what she’s done, the extent to which she’s responsible for it, and what this says about her morality or lack thereof. I’m not going to rehash those arguments. I think I’ve made it clear that I care less about whether people approve of her behavior than I do about how their statements about her reinforce harmful messages about women, people of color, LGBT people and mentally ill people.

Nevertheless, she’s incredibly interesting, and studying Jewish text is fun, so here we are.

Why examine Azula’s actions through the lens of halacha?

Halacha gets a lot of flack because it comes off as excessively legalistic. But, in my opinion, that’s based on a misunderstanding of what halacha is. Usually translated as “Jewish law,” the word halacha actually comes from the root word that means “to go/walk.”

Halacha is not a collection of rules for the sake of having rules. It’s meant to take us somewhere. You can write a library of books about exactly what that is and what it means. But for the sake of simplicity, halacha is how we show that we recognize the holiness of everything in creation. So we aim to do right by one another, by the land we live in and by the creatures we share this world with.

Before we can launch into examining the halachic ramifications of the things Azula does, we need to establish some boundaries.

Only the show counts. It’s the common frame of reference universally accepted by the vast majority of fandom. Fandom’s stances on the comics, novelizations and other tie-in materials are too variable to base an analysis on.

Word of God is immaterial. While some would use the phrase Death of the Author, Jewish tradition has a more entertaining take on it. In the Talmud, there’s a dispute between Rabbi Eliezer and some of his peers. In that story, Rabbi Eliezer says that if he’s right, this or that miraculous thing would happen, and those miraculous things do happen. But the other rabbis still reject it because we don’t determine halacha by miraculous signs. Eventually, God parts the heavens and says, “Rabbi Eliezer is right.” But another rabbi responds, “The Torah is not in heaven,” meaning that the Torah was meant for human beings on earth to interpret for themselves. And God’s response? To smile and say, “My children have defeated Me.”

Now, let’s begin.

Is Azula bound by halacha?

She’s not Jewish, so no. However, all human beings are bound by the Noahide laws. For the sake of argument, let’s say that the Noahide covenant applies to all humans on all worlds. According to the Talmud (Sanhedrin 56a.24):

Since the halakhot of the descendants of Noah have been mentioned, a full discussion of the Noahide mitzvot is presented. The Sages taught in a baraita: The descendants of Noah, i.e., all of humanity, were commanded to observe seven mitzvot: The mitzva of establishing courts of judgment; and the prohibition against blessing, i.e., cursing, the name of God; and the prohibition of idol worship; and the prohibition against forbidden sexual relations; and the prohibition of bloodshed; and the prohibition of robbery; and the prohibition against eating a limb from a living animal.

What is Azula’s legal status?

In any case, we know the rules, and now we have to decide whether Azula broke them or not, right?

Not so fast.

First, we have to determine if Azula is of the appropriate legal status to be held accountable for upholding the Noahide laws. In other words: when she committed certain acts, was Azula an adult capable of making rational decisions?

Clear your mind of the idea that being an adult is the same as being a grownup. Instead, think of it as a term that defines when people can make legally binding decisions.

As far as I can tell, the Talmud doesn’t say when a gentile becomes an adult. However, we can use halacha as a guide.

Now for a warning.

If frank talk about the physical development of adolescents makes you uncomfortable, you might want to skip this next part. There’s nothing graphic or titillating about what I’m going to discuss, but if breasts and pubic hair squick you out, skip this part until I say it’s safe in bold like this.

According to halacha, a girl reaches adulthood when she’s twelve years and one day old and has two pubic hairs. Yeah, you read that right. Twelve and two pubes are the requirement. Before this point, nothing she does is legally binding, even if she’s really smart and claims to be fully aware of what she’s doing. After this point, her actions are legally binding, even if she says she had no idea what she was doing.

On the show, we see Azula in a range of ages. In “Zuko Alone,” we see her at roughly eight years old. In “The Storm,” she’s about eleven. In all the other episodes she’s in, she’s fourteen. So, from a legal standpoint, flashback!Azula is too young for her actions to be legally binding. At that point in time, the responsibility would fall to her parents.

Um, I’m not willing to speculate about the genitals of an underage cartoon character, so for the sake of argument, I’m assuming that 14-year-old Azula meets the two pubes requirement. Thus, 14-year-old Azula is responsible for her actions.

If you skipped that last part, it’s safe to continue now.

OK, we’ve established that flashback!Azula is too young for her actions to be legally binding, but in the main story, Azula is legally an adult and responsible for her actions.

We good? Alright.

Which Noahide laws does Azula actually break?

This is both easier and harder than it seems.

The laws about idol worship, cursing God, and forbidden sexual acts don’t apply to her because neither religion nor sex are portrayed as such on the show. Also, the law about establishing courts of justice is a communal obligation, not one that falls on a single individual, so that’s another one we don’t have to concern ourselves with.

That leaves the prohibitions against bloodshed, robbery and eating a limb cut from a living animal.

First up: bloodshed.

The connotation of the prohibition against bloodshed is not for general acts of violence, but actual murder.

Here’s where I think I’m going to throw a lot of people for a loop. Azula doesn’t kill anyone on the show. She tries. She comes close. She wouldn’t lose sleep over it if she did. But nobody’s dead because of her. She doesn’t even take lives as collateral damage.

One could argue that zapping Aang with lightning counts as killing, but when the Sages talk about death and dying, I assume they mean the kind where the dead stay dead, not people who are revived by magic spirit water. Furthermore, if someone’s about to kill you (and I think entering the Avatar State qualifies here), you are halachically obligated to save your own life, even if it means killing that person.

Second: robbery.

We’ll come back to that.

Third: eating a limb from a living animal.

This prohibition is often expanded to incorporate all forms of animal cruelty.

The show does portray animal cruelty. We see a prime example with the circus in “Appa’s Lost Days.”

But what about Azula? We don’t see her interact with many animals on the show, but there are two notable examples: Appa the sky bison in “Appa’s Lost Days” and Bosco the bear in “The Crossroads of Destiny.”

How does her behavior measure up? Despite her earlier behavior of terrorizing turtleducks, Azula does not harm either Appa or Bosco.

On the show, Mai and Ty Lee are seen spending time with Bosco in the throne room while the Earth King is imprisoned. So, at the very least, they treat the bear well.

So, Azula is not liable for animal cruelty.

*hands Azula her Not As Big A Jerk As She Could Have Been award*

Now, let’s revisit that prohibition against robbery.

Given the prescribed punishment (decapitation), the connotation seems to be taking the rightful property of another through violent means. That being said, the prohibition against robbery is often extended to include all sorts of theft.

This one might have some legs. On the show, does Azula take the rightful property of another, and does she use violent means to do so?

Absolutely.

A major example is stealing the clothes of the Kyoshi Warriors after defeating them in combat.

But!

The show takes place during a time of war, and the Kyoshi Warriors, as allies of the Avatar, are enemies of the Fire Nation. So does beating them up and taking their uniforms fall under the prohibition against robbery, or are the Kyoshi Warrior uniforms considered the spoils of war and thus free for the taking?

Halachically speaking, it might actually be the latter. When fighting the Kyoshi Warriors, Azula acts as a military commander during a time of war and achieves a decisive victory against an elite combat unit. Thus, she is entitled to take their stuff.

So, back to the original question: which actions does Azula commit during the show that she’s halachically liable for?

The answer, shockingly, may be: none.

On the show, we’re encouraged to think of Azula as a Very Bad Girl who does Very Bad Things. She’s calculating, ruthless and deceptive. She’s also full of herself. She’s not someone who inspires warm, fuzzy feelings in most people. But when you put her actions under the microscope, she exercises remarkable restraint compared to what she’s capable of.

Don’t worry. No one’s going to nominate her for a Nobel Peace Prize just yet. This is Azula we’re talking about. She’s not acting out of an overwhelming love for humanity. But it is interesting that despite her threats to kill, maim and destroy, she doesn’t participate in wanton destruction or wasteful loss of life.

#azula #atla meta #jewish meta

62 notes · View notes

starshine583 · 4 years

Text

Le Paon Part 10

(Hello all! This is part 10, two weeks later, but I have to admit it’s slightly shorter than usual. The next chapter will be the same. I hope you enjoy reading nonetheless!)

Part 1 / Part 9 / Part 11

Allegra couldn’t help the ear-piercing squeal that escaped her lips as she stared at Marinette’s picture of Le Paon. Finally! After weeks of chasing that man’s tail around the city, they finally got a good- no, not just good, a great picture! This was incredible! She felt like bouncing around the room from pure joy, which she did, along with singing a happy little ‘victory tune’. It wasn’t appropriate for the school classroom, but dash it all if she cared what her teacher might think. They were on their routine break between classes anyway.

“I can’t believe you got this!” She exclaimed after a good few moments of staring at it. She wanted to memorize every detail. “I mean, how did you get it? The picture seems so close! It’s like he’s standing right next to you!”

Allegra was too excited to notice Marinette shifting uncomfortably next to her.

“W-Well, I was out on the balcony and.. and I saw him on one of the rooftops across the street. My phone just happened to have a good focusing feature.” The ravenette explained.

Allegra’s features twisted into a scowl, though it wasn’t necessarily directed towards Marinette. “I wish I could get that lucky. You’d think after months of waiting, he might show up on my doorstep every-”

Her miniature rant was cut off by the vibration of Marinette’s phone. Someone had texted her, and from the pop-up notification at the top of the screen, it appeared to be.. Felix? Since when did he get her number? Since when did they text?

~My Father’s at home today, so you should be able to visit this afternoon after school hours. Does that work for you?~

Allegra squinted at the text. He was inviting her over to his house?

“That’s scroundal.” She muttered.

“What?”

Allegra snapped back to reality at Marinette’s voice. “Hm? Oh, nothing.”

She handed Marinette’s phone back, subtly checking the time as she did. It was important that no one- especially Felix -interrupt. “Do you like greenhouses?”

Marinette blinked. “Greenhouses?”

“Yeah! Claude and the rest of us are going to visit a greenhouse tomorrow, and I was wondering if you’d like to join us.” She requested, making sure to keep a light and sweet tone. Hopefully, Marinette wouldn’t remember the last time she asked her to go somewhere, not that the girl seemed to mind running into Felix so often.

Marinette hummed. “I think that should work. I don’t remember having anything else to do tomorrow besides school.”

Allegra clapped her hands together as the bell rang above them. “Wonderful! I’ll tell the boys.”

Marinette nodded and gave a quick goodbye as she left to go back to class. Conveniently, Felix walked in right after her exit.

“Felix!” Allegra nearly cooed. “How do you feel about greenhouses?”

Felix paused at his desk and rose a brow at her. “I’d say that I liked them until you asked that question.”

Allegra only smiled. “Why don’t you join us this fine Thursday on our trip to the greenhouse?”

Felix sat down, pulling his bag onto his lap to rummage through it. “As fun as that sounds, I’ll have to refuse.”

She let out a long, wistful sigh as she sat down next to him. Claude wouldn’t mind sharing his seat with her for a minute. “What a shame. I’ll tell Marinette you couldn’t come then.”

Felix twitched next to her, and she felt her smile widen. Checkmate.

Unfortunately, she had to go back to her seat after that, but Allegra still counted it as a success. Felix didn’t agree to go with them out loud, but somehow, she knew he would be there.

~~~~~~

Marinette clutched her sketchbook to her chest as she stared up at the large, metal gates of the Agreste Mansion. Despite it being the middle of the day, she couldn’t help finding the sight a bit eerie. Normally, one would find gates like this outside an abandoned house on the outskirts of town, not in the middle of Paris as if it were as natural as a mailbox.

A compartment opened to her right, and Marinette jumped back with a slight squeal when a silver bulb shot out at her. Something red in the middle of the bulb seemed to shrink and expand a few times as it circled her. A camera, she realized. It had to be one of those built-in cameras that she’d heard about.

~Name?~

Marinette faltered at the sharp tone. “Ah, u-um..”

The camera inched closer, somehow appearing to glare at her. ~Name?~

She swallowed. “M-Marinette.”

A pause.

~You are not on our schedule for-~

~Oh, cut it out, will you?~

Marinette blinked. Was that Felix?

~Apologies, Marinette. Our secretary’s not that bright.~

A click emitted from the metal gates, and they swung open, allowing her to enter. Marinette spared the camera one last glance as it retreated to its compartment in the wall before starting forward.

Felix greeted her at the entrance. “Sorry about the camera. Father can get a bit carried away when it comes to security. ‘Overprotective’, if you will.”

Marinette gave a tight smile. This whole situation didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t remember the security being this overbearing last time she visited for her and Adrien’s history report. Paris had some criminal activity, yes, but surely cameras and two-story sized walls weren’t necessary. Who was M. Agreste trying to keep out?

Or keep in? She thought, her gaze flicking to Felix as he closed the front door behind them. He mentioned a few weeks ago the lengths that M. Agreste would go to keep them at home. Marinette can understand wanting to keep one’s children close, but this is a little.. excessive, especially considering the fact that she’s barely seen their father around the house as it is.

Felix showed her to his father’s office, and Marinette briefly noticed a woman sitting at a desk not too far away, the barest hint of a scowl adorning her lips as she typed away on her computer. That, Marinette assumed, must be the secretary that had talked to her over the camera earlier.

Her attention was turned back to Felix when he pushed open the office door. It wasn’t until they were inside that Marinette realized she was holding her breath. This was M. Agreste, after all. He was known world wide for his fashion achievements, and his company was one to be coveted. Honestly, she could only ever dream of reaching his level of success, and here she was, about to meet him face to face for the first time.

“Father, this is Marinette, the one I told you about.” Felix introduced.

A slight blush brushed Marinette’s cheeks at the thought of Felix talking about her, but she tried to push the feeling aside. Right now, she needed to focus on making a good first impression.

Gabriel’s gaze flicked to her briefly, but he kept his main focus on his screen. “Ah, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. Of course.”

Marinette rose a brow. “Of course”? That’s it? She didn’t expect any sort of special treatment, but she liked to have some common courtesy. He could have at least put a light note into his tone instead of sounding as enthusiastic as a rock.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, M. Agreste.” She finally said, an equally cold tone of her own. Two could play at this game.

She caught Felix giving her a surprised look out of the corner of her eye, which was understandable. Marinette didn’t tend to hold a sharp tongue, but sometimes, exceptions needed to be made.

Gabriel looked up at her as well, and that’s when she stiffened. In hindsight, this was his mansion that she was standing in. If anyone had a right to practically ignore her, it would be him. Nevertheless, Marinette had already made her position clear, and she wasn’t going to back down now.

Her shoulders straightened as M. Agreste’s hollow, grey eyes assessed her. “You’re from the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, correct?”

Marinette forced a neutral expression. How did he know that? She supposed her last name made it obvious, but still. “Y-Yes, sir.”

He nodded. “Your designs are impressive, albeit a bit rough. With guidance and practice, I’m sure you can inspire a new era of fashion. Have you anything else to show me?”

Marinette took a step forward, offering him her notebook. The tense silence that followed had her fidgeting with her hands as he flips through her designs. His expression didn’t even change while he studied the pages. What kind of robot of a man was he, anyway? Or were her designs just not good enough?

Finally, Gabriel nodded again and handed the notebook back to her. “Splendid. I appreciate the visit.”

Something about his tone- or lack thereof- made her more irritated than pleased about the compliment. They’d barely said two words to each other. Was this his way of blowing her off? She simply couldn’t tell.

Felix, obviously used to this behavior, nodded as well and lightly grabbed her arm for them to leave.

“Felix, next time you intend to bring someone new to my mansion, I’d prefer to look into it myself first.” Gabriel remarked as they reached the door.

“Of course, Father.” Felix said, opening the door for them to make a quiet exit.

Marinette, however, didn’t move. She couldn’t. She was too bewildered to do anything other than stare at Gabriel with a quizzical expression. “Look into it myself first”? “My mansion”? She could explain away his need to look into visitors, controlling as that may be, but for him to act like he alone owned everything here was outrageous. Whether he bought the place himself or not, Felix and Adrien were his sons, and this was their home too. Let’s not even mention that she was not, in fact, “new to his mansion”.

Actually, no. Marinette thought. Let’s mention that.

She turned away from Felix, ignoring his panicked expression, and smiled a nice, sweet, sugary smile. “With all due respect, M. Agreste, I’ve visited this mansion before. Adrien and I worked on a history project together.”

Gabriel rose a brow. “What history project?”

Marinette barely held back a scoff, though her smile remained. “You didn’t know about your own son’s history project?”

Admittedly, her tone was harsher than she had meant it to be, but that didn’t mean she regretted what she said. Her parents knew her entire schedule, all of her interests, and they certainly knew about her visit to the Agreste’s to work on their group history project.

Gabriel, however, narrowed his eyes at the confrontation. “I have Nathalie and Gorilla to keep track of that for me.”

It took every ounce of self control she had not to snap at him right then.

“I don’t mean to argue,” She began calmly, “But is it really wise to hire someone to care for your own children?”

Gabriel shot her a full-fledged glare. “Felix and Adrien are my children. I am their father, and I will decide what’s best for them.”

Marinette huffed. She tried being polite, tried helping him see reason. The boys may not be her responsibility, but she wasn’t going to stand back and watch them be mistreated like this. “A father doesn’t lock his children up in a mansion and leave employees to care for them.”

“They have everything they need here!” He yelled.

“Except a loving parent who cares for them!” Marinette spat back. “The only way you haven’t abandoned them is by physically leaving. But you’re practically there by holding yourself up in your office all day.”

Gabriel scoffed. “You best mind your tone, Mademoiselle. I don’t have to explain myself to you nor anyone else. Now take your leave before my patience runs dry.”

Marinette’s fists clenched at her sides. How could someone be so stubborn and so arrogant? Why did this man even decide to have kids in the first place?

A light touch on her wrist brought her gaze back to Felix. He didn’t say anything, and his expression didn’t change, but she could see the pleading in his eyes.

A sigh passed her lips, and she shot one last look at Gabriel before marching through the office doors.

Another time. She promised herself as Felix trailed behind her. Another time.

~~~~~~

Felix quietly closed the office door behind him, not wanting to disturb Father any more than they already had.

"Well, that didn't go as planned." He muttered to himself. Inviting Marinette over was supposed to impress his Father, not twist his candy-cane tie into a knot. Though, in all honesty, Felix couldn't say he was disappointed. He'd never seen Marinette so utterly enraged before. That girl had turned to ice faster than he could blink, and Felix would be lying if he said he wasn't just a tad love-struck. For someone who usually stumbled over a simple "hello", her tonguelashing towards his Father could be considered quite a feat. Truly magnificent.

Felix turned around to tell her this himself, but stopped short when he saw her. She was standing in front of him, a dazed look in her eyes as she clutched her shirt, almost like she was trying to hold her own heart.

Cautiously, he stepped forward. “Marinette? Are you alright?”

No response.

“Marinette?” He tried again, starting to get worried.

“I yelled at him.”

“Pardon?”

Finally, she looked at him, and he immediately wished that she hadn’t. Her beautiful blue eyes were hollow, haunted. It made his blood run cold.

“I yelled at him.” She repeated. “I yelled at your Father. What was I thinking? What if he calls security? I’ll never be allowed to talk to you again. My fashion dream is probably ruined-”

“Woah, hey, hey-” Felix tried to sooth, taking her by the shoulders. (Gently, of course) “It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Father’s not going to call security.”

Marinette dug her hands through her hair. “But what if he does? What if I just got you into huge trouble? What if he pulls you and Adrien out of school?”

He pulled her hands out of her hair. “Can I hug you?”

“I- what?”

“Can I hug you?” Felix said slowly.

She stared at him for a minute, a little confused, but nodded.

Felix sighed and pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her back. “Just take a deep breath. I promise you that everything’s going to be okay.”

She buried her face into his shirt and sniffled, and he reached up to gently stroke her hair as he felt the wetness of her tears sink into his shoulders.

“I actually wanted to thank you.”

Her head jerked back a bit from shock. “Thank me? For what?”

“For sticking up for me and Adrien. Not many people have the courage to stand up to my Father like that, but I’m glad you did.”

Marinette sniffed again and wiped away a stray tear. “I’d do it again if you asked.”

Felix smiled, pulling her back into another hug. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but he did know one thing: he loved Marinette, and he would do everything he could to keep her from crying like this again.

Tag List: @im-here-for-the-content @novicevoice @mewwitch@minightrose @frostymoon11 @multishipper1needshalp@unabashedbookworm @unholykrow @trubel43@kaydenth3gayden @stardustrevoutionx @legendaryneckjudgestudent @aurordraws @crazylittlemunchkin @uwuteamleader @chocolatecustarddanish @iambi-thilla-meena @corabeth11 @asainfrustration13 @chrismarium @agumon1123 @luciferge @yue-caelum @persephonebutkore @constancetruggle @fanficaddict4ever @johnlockfeelz @imfreakingmagical @tinybrie @procrastinatingrightnow @bee-wrecker @dontcallmecedge @shadowhex99 @daminette-is-life @thethirdwheelfriend @myazael @sizzling-fairy-oil @sparkle9510 @chaosace @the-navistar-carol @sannsibarr @grumpy-vixen-kitten @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @utcaro @more-or-less-human-i-guess @mlbutatbspofsalt

#Le Paon AU #Felinette #Felix Agreste #Marinette

196 notes · View notes

davidmann95 · 4 years

Note

Comics this week (10/14/2020)?

Commanders in Crisis #1: I already shared my fancy-shmancy official review for this one, and I don’t think I can go into it much more without spoiling aspects I’d rather not discuss on the first day; everyone should be able to discover it for themselves. I do however recommend my friend Ritesh Babu’s interview with Prizefighter, which will I understand be included in the trade!

Once & Future #12: I’m still not clicking with this on a fundamental level, but it still entertains and that last twist is promising.

We Live #1: A surprise! I think it was an ask pretty recently about what I thought of Image solicits that inspired me to look through the site I put together my pull list on to see if there were any interesting-sounding books on the fringes, and this caught my eye. Another variant on the post-apocalypse, with some Walking Dead and Fallout flavoring - a description that had I known in advance sans context applied here would have lead me to skip it - this is actually a very colorful, melancholy, unexpectedly warm title from Aftershock Comics and the Miranda brothers. I don’t know whether or not it’s an ongoing, but I’m invested as of this first issue and would broadly recommend it.

Warhammer 40,000: Marneus Calgar #1: You know what’s in the grim darkness of the far future? You know it baby, it’s war. I was gonna skip this in spite of the creative team, I’ve never checked out 40k and in spite of friends who’ve sworn by it I’ve never been interested, but I got some more targeted recommendations that swayed me. And it was solid! Got those infographics (love me some infographics), a bit of incredibly mean humor, and some incredibly self-serious gravitas that actually pulls it off. I don’t know that I’d be in the tank for an ongoing, but I believe I’ve heard this is just 5 issues so I’ll stick with it.

Avengers #37: I’m the Aaronvengers defender, but I’ll concede it’s gotta get back on track.

The Immortal Hulk #38: Meanwhile, this has just gotten back on track after the last several issues from merely “very good” to “Immortal Hulk good”.

The Green Lantern Season Two #8: So weird, and not in the usual way where I mean that as the most glowing of endorsements. It’s cool Morrison’s still trying shit, and I LOVE what Sharp has been doing here lately, but I’m ready for the finale.

Dark Nights: Death Metal #4: This series at this point is the equivalent of 3 pounds of frosting instead of actual cake: sorta disgusting, give me actual food from here on out, but also this level of gross indulgence kinda rules. I’ve come to terms that this is fundamentally compromised on several different levels as a climax to my beloved Snyder Justice League run and that’s not changing, and he should probably never do anything remotely like this again, but I can’t say I’m not still enjoying it and very much looking forward to what it still has in store.

Wonder Woman #764: Okay it’s extremely weird and uncomfortable that Max Lord as Wonder Woman’s reluctant partner is just casually ruining innocent people’s lives constantly in this book, with Diana is catching and making him reverse maybe a third of it, is clearly a bit meant for yuks, right?

Superman #26: A nice little exploration of the fallout of Truth and stuff in Action leading into the big finale.

Strange Adventures #6: Adam Strange! The dude sucks! Woo! Also those were two all-timer spreads.

Rorschach #1: I want to be as minimally involved in the discourse as possible on this one while still conceding that this is in my pulls and providing an endorsement or lack thereof for my followers, and that shall be reflected here. I mostly very much liked this, more even than I probably expected. Tom King spoke true that he’s working to shed many of his writerly tics here, to successful results thus far. Jorge Fornes remains remarkable. There was one element I found in questionable taste. It is possible that in the fullness of time I will come to generally dislike this series, but in spite of the aforementioned serious caveat it has not happened yet. My impression is that much of the commentary around it is engaging with it in excessively bad faith based on the narrative that has built up around King, but perhaps I am wrong, because I am paying as little attention to that as possible because I really just want to enjoy it or end up not doing so in peace on this one. All further weekly reviews of this will probably amount to “I liked it”, “I mostly liked it”, or “I didn’t like it”, with perhaps one or two additional lines of elaboration. I will not be answering questions regarding it, I will not have any grand retrospectives on it until at least a year after the fact, I am not fucking around on this one and I will not let you drag me into it.

#Week's Comics #Opinion

10 notes · View notes

dailytafsirofquran · 3 years

Text

TEFSIR ibn KATHIR: Surah Dahr Ayah 13-22

In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

13 Reclining therein on raised couches, they will see there neither the excessive heat, nor the excessive cold.

14 And the shade thereof is close upon them, and the bunches of fruit thereof will hang low within their reach.

15 And among them will be passed round vessels of silver and cups of crystal –

16 (Qawarir) Crystal-clear, made of silver. They will determine the measure thereof.

17 And they will be given to drink there of a cup (of wine) mixed with Zanjabil (ginger),

18 A spring there, called Salsabil.

19 And round about them will (serve) boys of everlasting youth. If you see them, you would think them scattered pearls.

20 And when you look there (in Paradise), you will see a delight (that cannot be imagined), and a great dominion.

21 Their garments will be of fine green silk, and Istabraq. They will be adorned with bracelets of silver, and their Lord will give them a purifying drink.

22. (And it will be said to them): "Verily, this is a reward for you, and your endeavor has been accepted.''

The raised Couches and the lack of Heat and Cold

Allah tells us about the people of Paradise and the eternal delights they will experience, as well as the comprehensive favors that they will be given.

Allah says,

Reclining therein on raised couches.

This has already been discussed in Surah As-Saffat and the difference of opinion about the meaning of reclining. Is it lying down, reclining on the elbows, sitting down cross-legged, or being firmly seated We have also mentioned that the Al-Ara'ik are couches beneath curtained canopies. Concerning Allah's statement, they will see there neither the excessive heat, nor the excessive bitter cold.

meaning, there will be no disturbing heat with them, nor any painful cold, rather there will only be one climate that will be always and eternal and they will not want it to be changed.

The Shade and Fruit Clusters will be near

And the shade thereof is close upon them.

meaning, the branches will be close to them.

And the bunches of fruit thereof will hang low within their reach.

meaning, whenever he attempts to get any fruit, it will come nearer to him and come down from its highest branch as if it hears and obeys.

This is as Allah says in another Ayah, And fruits of the two gardens will be near at hand. (55:54)

Allah also says,

The fruits in bunches whereof will be low and near at hand. (69:23)

Mujahid said, (And the bunches of fruit thereof will hang low within their reach.)

"If he stands it will rise with him an equal amount, if he sits it will lower itself for him so that he can reach it and if he lies down it will lower itself for him more so that he can reach it.

So this is Allah's statement, (will hang low within their reach). ''

Qatadah said, "No thorn or distance will repel their hands away from it (the fruit).''

Vessels of Silver and Drinking Cups

Allah says,

And among them will be passed round vessels of silver and cups of crystal, meaning, servants will go around them with containers of food made of silver and cups of drink. These are drinking vessels that do not have handles or spouts.

Then Allah says, (Qawarir) Crystal-clear, made of silver.

Ibn `Abbas, Mujahid, Al-Hasan Al-Basri and others have all said,

"It (Qawarir) is the whiteness of silver in the transparency of glass.''

Qawarir is only made of glass. So these cups are made of silver, but due to their fine thinness, what is inside of them will be visible from outside of them (as if they are glass). This is among the things of which there is nothing like in this world.

Allah said,

They will determine the measure thereof.

meaning, according to the amount that will quench their thirst. It will not be more than that nor less than it, rather it will be prepared in an amount that is suitable for quenching the thirst of their drinkers.

This is the meaning of the statement of Ibn`Abbas, Mujahid, Sa`id bin Jubayr, Abu Salih, Qatadah, Ibn Abza, `Abdullah bin `Ubayd bin `Umayr, Ash-Sha`bi and Ibn Zayd.

This was stated by Ibn Jarir and others. This is the most excellent provision, distinction and honor.

The Ginger Drink and the Drink of Salsabil

Allah says,

And they will be given to drink there of a cup mixed with Zanjabil (ginger), meaning, they -- the righteous -- will also be given a drink from these cups. a cup, meaning, a drink of wine. mixed with Zanjabil (ginger), So on one occasion they will be given a drink that is mixed with camphor, and it is cool.

Then on another occasion they will be given a drink mixed with ginger, and it is hot. This is so that their affair will be balanced.

However, those who are nearest to Allah, they will drink from all of it however they wish, as Qatadah and others have said.

The statement of Allah has already preceded which says,

A spring wherefrom the servants of Allah will drink. (76:6)

And here Allah says,

A spring there, called Salsabil.

Ikrimah said,

"It (Salsabil) is the name of a spring in Paradise.''

Mujahid said,

"It is called this due to its continuous flowing and the severity of its current.''

The Boys and Servants

Allah says,

And round about them will (serve) boys of everlasting youth. If you see them, you would think them scattered pearls.

meaning, young boys from the boys of Paradise will go around serving the people of Paradise. everlasting youth.

meaning, in one state forever which they will be never changing from, they will not increase in age. Those who have described them as wearing earings in their ears have only interpreted the meaning in such a way because a child is befitting of this description and not an adult man.

Concerning Allah's statement,

If you see them, you would think them scattered pearls. meaning, when you see them dispersing to fulfill the needs of their masters, their great number, their beautiful faces, handsome colors, fine clothing and ornaments, you would think that they were scattered pearls. There is no better quality than this, nor is there anything nicer to look at than scattered pearls in a beautiful place.

Allah says,

And when you look, meaning, `when you see it, O Muhammad.'

meaning, there.

This refers to Paradise and its beauty, its vastness, its loftiness and the joy and happiness it contains.

You will see a delight, and a great dominion.

meaning, there will be a great kingdom that belongs to Allah and a dazzling, splendid dominion.

It has been confirmed in the Sahih that Allah will say to the last of the people of the Fire to be taken out of it, and the last of the people to enter into Paradise, verily, you will have similar to the world and ten worlds like it (in addition to it).''

If this is what He will give to the least of those who will be in Paradise, then what do you think about the one who will have a higher status and will be favored even more by Allah.

The Garments and Ornaments

Allah says,

Their garments will be of fine green silk, and Istabraq.

meaning, among the garments of the people of Paradise is silk and Sundus, which is a high quality silk. These garments will be shirts and similar clothing from the undergarments.

Concerning Istabraq (velvet), from it there is that which has a glitter and shimmer to it, and it is that which is worn as outer clothes, just as is well-known in clothing.

They will be adorned with bracelets of silver, This is a description of the righteous.

In reference to those who will be near to Allah, then their description is as Allah says, Wherein they will be adorned with bracelets of gold and pearls and their garments therein will be of silk. (22:23)

After Allah mentions the outward beautification with silk and ornaments, He then says, and their Lord will give them a purifying drink.

meaning, it will purify their insides of envy, despise, hatred, harm and the other reprehensible character traits.

This is just as we have recorded from the Commander of the believers, `Ali bin Abi Talib, that he said, "When the people of Paradise come to the Gate of Paradise, they will find two springs there. Then it will be as if they were inspired with what to do, so they will drink from one of them and Allah will remove whatever harmfulness there may be within them. Then they will bathe in the other spring and a glow of delight will run all over them. Thus, Allah informs of their outward condition and their inner beauty.''

Allah then says,

Verily, this is a reward for you, and your endeavor has been accepted.

meaning, this will be said to them in honor of them and as a goodness towards them.

This is as Allah says,

Eat and drink at ease for that which you have sent forth before you in days past! (69:24)

Allah also says,

And it will be cried out to them: "This is the Paradise which you have inherited for what you used to do.'' (7:43)

Then Allah says, and your endeavor has been accepted.

meaning, `Allah the Exalted will reward you for a small amount (of deeds) with a large amount (of reward).'

2 notes · View notes

deliciousmeta · 4 years

Text

According to halacha, which actions is Azula liable for?

One of my favorite ways to study Jewish texts is to take a fictional character or situation and examine it through the lens of Jewish text and tradition.

I’ve done this before with ABC’s Once Upon A Time. Now I’m going to take up this exercise again with Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Before I begin, a few things to keep in mind.

I’m not a Talmud scholar.

There is no definitive Jewish Opinion™ about any issue pertaining to halacha. Unanimous opinions on halacha are so rare that when we find one, we assume something went wrong in the process..

Nevertheless, she’s incredibly interesting, and studying Jewish text is fun, so here we are.

Why examine Azula’s actions through the lens of halacha?

Before we can launch into examining the halachic ramifications of the things Azula does, we need to establish some boundaries.

Now, let’s begin.

Is Azula bound by halacha?

What is Azula’s legal status?

In any case, we know the rules, and now we have to decide whether Azula broke them or not, right?

Not so fast.

Clear your mind of the idea that being an adult is the same as being a grownup. Instead, think of it as a term that defines when people can make legally binding decisions.

As far as I can tell, the Talmud doesn’t say when a gentile becomes an adult. However, we can use halacha as a guide.

Now for a warning.

If you skipped that last part, it’s safe to continue now.

OK, we’ve established that flashback!Azula is too young for her actions to be legally binding, but in the main story, Azula is legally an adult and responsible for her actions.

We good? Alright.

Which Noahide laws does Azula actually break?

This is both easier and harder than it seems.

That leaves the prohibitions against bloodshed, robbery and eating a limb cut from a living animal.

First up: bloodshed.

The connotation of the prohibition against bloodshed is not for general acts of violence, but actual murder.

Second: robbery.

We’ll come back to that.

Third: eating a limb from a living animal.

This prohibition is often expanded to incorporate all forms of animal cruelty.

The show does portray animal cruelty. We see a prime example with the circus in “Appa’s Lost Days.”

How does her behavior measure up? Despite her earlier behavior of terrorizing turtleducks, Azula does not harm either Appa or Bosco.

On the show, Mai and Ty Lee are seen spending time with Bosco in the throne room while the Earth King is imprisoned. So, at the very least, they treat the bear well.

So, Azula is not liable for animal cruelty.

*hands Azula her Not As Big A Jerk As She Could Have Been award*

Now, let’s revisit that prohibition against robbery.

This one might have some legs. On the show, does Azula take the rightful property of another, and does she use violent means to do so?

Absolutely.

A major example is stealing the clothes of the Kyoshi Warriors after defeating them in combat.

But!

So, back to the original question: which actions does Azula commit during the show that she’s halachically liable for?

The answer, shockingly, may be: none.

#azula #azula meta #jewish meta #atla meta

7 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 4 years

Text

Best Meryl Streep Musical Performances (Including The Prom!)

https://ift.tt/2JMbiJl

Who would have thought 30 years ago Meryl Streep would become the musical diva of our age? Maybe those who watched her bashfully (and beautifully) sing “You Don’t Know Me” in 1990’s Postcards from the Edge. But largely she was associated with the serious dramas of the ‘70s and ‘80s that won her two Oscars (and saw her nominated for three more) by the time she was 35: Kramer vs. Kramer, The Deer Hunter, Sophie’s Choice. Sober-eyed tearjerkers all.

But an amazing thing happened in the 21st century, didn’t it? Streep, the First Lady of the Academy Awards stage, reinvented herself as the prima donna of the musical-comedy. Sometimes that includes performances so rich that they sing even without any lyrics, such as the imperious Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada. But often they come with music and verse too, be it ham-fisted kitsch like Mamma Mia! or something as ambitious as playing the Witch in an adaptation of Stephen Sondheim’s Into the Woods.

And today she’s back on the musical big screen—or at least the one in your living room—via Ryan Murphy and Netflix’s The Prom. It’s an all-out musical extravaganza where Streep transcends into her best self: a reigning diva of Broadway. So join us as we use the occasion to count down her greatest cinematic solos.

10. “Changing Lives” in The Prom

For whatever faults The Prom might contain, the Netflix film’s vicious satire of celebrity vanity and performative social action is not one of them. And rarely is that better felt than in Meryl and James Corden’s first big number “Changing Lives.” As a pair of tone-deaf Narcissuses, Streep’s Dee Dee Allen and Corden’s Barry Glickman put on a hell of a show, singing from the lights of 44th St. to the glitzy interiors of Sardis about how being a Broadway star is basically the same thing as Eleanor and Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

Is it a great song? Not necessarily. Is it great to hear Streep exclaim she only wants to hear a review if it’s a rave or mixed-to-positive while downing champagne? Absolutely.

9. “Super Trouper” in Mamma Mia!

We know everyone has thoughts about Mammia Mia! and where its qualities (or sometimes lack thereof) lie. But Meryl Streep’s performance as Donna is inarguably one of its great strengths. Her matriarch of an idyllic little Greek island seems a far cry from the apparent free spirit and hellraiser she once was. Yet in “Super Trouper,” her young daughter (Amanda Seyfried) gets a glimpse of the dynamo Donna once was (and secretly still is) as she takes the disco stage alongside Julie Walters and Christine Baranski.

The trio still make the ‘70s excess of their outfits work, crooning about last nights in Glasgow and reawakening that magic for the next generation. Even Donna’s tuneless exes in the back get swept back in time. It’s sweet, and one of several Mamma Mia numbers to appear here.

8. “Goodbye to My Mama” in A Prairie Home Companion

One of the best films mentioned on this list, A Prairie Home Companion was director Robert Altman’s final film—and the movie appears aware of this. Nowhere is that more tangible in this heart-wringing ballad written in the tradition of early 20th century Country and Western music by Garrison Keillor. An ode to a childhood long gone, and both an aspiration and understated fear about seeing a lost mother again on the other side, the song is an elegy realized in soulful duet by Streep and Lily Tomlin. It harkens the Angel of Death backstage, but in isolation it’s still plenty heartbreaking.

7. “The Winner Takes It All” in Mamma Mia!

We said there’d be more ABBA. And here it is with “The Winner Takes It All,” Streep’s single actual solo. In this moment director Phyllida Lloyd knows exactly where to put the camera, capturing the postcard beauty of a Greek isle at sunset as Meryl sings her heart out, and smashes Pierce Brosnan’s for good measure. Appealingly melodramatic, and with perfect high notes for Streep’s range, the scene puts this Oscar winner in the movie equivalent of a romance novel cover. And who doesn’t want to open that?!

6. “It’s Not About Me” in The Prom

Again rarely does The Prom’s satire land better than in its opening number… but Streep’s big solo “It’s Not About Me” is that rare exception. Strutting into an Indiana PTA meeting in a red mink and extravagant mood, Streep’s Dee Dee introduces herself by belting that she’s here after reading three quarters of an article to ask, “You bigoted monsters, just who do you think you are?” And it’s all downhill from there for her argument, and uphill for our entertainment.

Hijacking a vulnerable teenager’s platform to whine about a New York Post notice and to demand soft lighting and a rainbow coalition of colorful streamers for her Insta-ready moment, Streep is given permission by The Prom to make everything about her. More, please.

5. “Stay with Me” in Into the Woods

Attempting to sing Sondheim is a challenge few take up lightly. With his typically complex lyrics, myriad key changes, and sharp musical bridges, Sondheim has thwarted many a movie star who’s tried. Streep is not one of them. As the villainous and somewhat misunderstood Witch of Into the Woods, Streep dominates the film as an antagonistic force who sees all the other fairy tale archetypes for the schmucks they are.

But that does not include her adopted daughter Rapunzel (Mackenzie Mauzy). As the daughter the Witch never had, Rapunzel is kept secluded away in the woods, but it’s for her own protection. Written years before Tangled, a mother’s fanged psychological warfare and pleas to “stay with me” from the danger in the world is as haunting as it is toxic. And it’s Streep’s best moment in Disney and Rob Marshall’s ambitious, yet bloated, movie adaptation.

4. “Dancing Queen” in Mamma Mia!

Yes, it’s that song and that scene: ABBA’s most overplayed earworm brought to treacly life with maximum cheese, including slow-motion shots of Meryl Streep jumping on a bed and skipping along a Greek coastline. Look over there! Why is that old fisherman playing a piano in the water?! And over here! Where did the hundreds of locals on this tiny, largely uninhabited island come from?!

Movies

Best Movie Musicals of the 21st Century

By David Crow

Movies

Hamilton Cast Reflect on Backlash and Criticism of Musical

By David Crow

It doesn’t matter! You know from the first time you heard Streep and company belt this that you sang along. You probably still do, joining in at the parade of empowered women, from ages two to 92, who’ve been liberated by the joy of their youth, now or remembered. As they dance badly across the world’s grooviest pier, it plays as loud; as camp; and as a goddamn delight.

3. “My Minnesota Home” in A Prairie Home Companion

Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin’s other major duet in A Prairie Home Companion, “My Minnesota Home” reworks Stephen Foster’s “My Old Kentucky Home” to give it a Lake Wobegon tenor. It is also the sweetest showcase for Streep and Tomlin’s chemistry, both as singers and human beings. The give and take between the pair, and then Streep’s rousing vibrato during the final chorus, has the air of genuine inspiration and real pleasure. Here are two performers finding harmony together on the stage and before our eyes. It’s big hearted and irresistible.

2. “I’m Checking Out” in Postcards from the Edge

Meryl’s first major musical moment came during the grand finale of director Mike Nichols and screenwriter Carrie Fisher’s wonderful little dramedy. Loosely and nakedly based on Fisher’s own relationship with her movie star mother Debbie Reynolds, Postcards from the Edge is a revealing and sometimes blunt exercise in getting things off a writer’s chest. And one thing Fisher really wanted to clear the air about was her mother’s desire to push her toward musical performance. While Fisher resisted in her own life, she allows the fictional Suzanne Vale (Streep) to give in to mother Doris Mann (Shirley MacLaine).

Movies

Best 11 Classic Movie Musicals

By David Crow

Movies

Hamilton: The Real History of the Burr-Hamilton Duel

By David Crow

In doing so, she also gives into herself and sings this full-hearted rendition of “I’m Checking Out.” A country hymn to the bitterness of living in the heartbreak hotel, the song allows Suzanne (and hopefully Carrie) to bury some pain, and for Streep to reveal her formidable stage and screen presence in front of a microphone. It is probably the rawest and most intelligent performance on this list.

1. “Mamma Mia” in Mamma Mia!

Among Meryl Streep’s many songs in Mamma Mia!—including a few we did not put on this list, believe it or not—it’s her rendition of the movie’s title song that works best. Imbuing the tune with an infectious playfulness, and leaning into the impatience that pours from ABBA’s lyrics, Streep pounces around the screen like a cat who’s just spotted a bird… or at least three turkeys in the shapes of her exes (Pierce Brosnan, Colin Firth, and Stellan Skarsgård).

Culture

How Disney Saved Musicals for a New Generation

By David Crow

Movies

Hamilton: Thomas Jefferson Controversy Explained

By David Crow

As she creeps and creaks around their goathouse (don’t ask), debating whether to sneak another peak, the film finally makes sharp use of a movie’s ability to edit together imagery: We cut between Streep, the exiled suitors, Donna’s daughter and friends, and even an honest to Zeus Greek chorus of extras sticking their heads into the frame to chastise Streep. Not that she can resist her curiosity, nor do we resist watching it. In fact, we want to egg it on as Streep rolls around in overalls and crosses herself before embracing the next crescendo.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The post Best Meryl Streep Musical Performances (Including The Prom!) appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3oPKQxj

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

1 note · View note

kmlaney · 4 years

Note

Writer asks: 2, 11, 19

2) What writing taboos do you break consistently?

Of the conventional ones: the ban on adverbs, no excessive descriptions, don’t split infinitives, don’t use passive voice, and don’t write long complicated sentences. Like, say, that last one. I use “said” a lot because IMO it’s invisible, regardless of what the “don’t use SAID” post exhort. I frequently start a story with dialogue rather than scene setting; not sure if that’s a taboo. I use semicolons. I don’t “write what I know” in the most literal sense, although my experiences do bleed into my writing a lot. I think a lot of taboos are there because a particular successful writer said: I Like/Hate This, so to be successful Everyone Must Do/Not Do it. Rules are great. Know when to break them.

Oh, yeah, I also don’t finish hardly anything, which is kinda breaking Rule Number One, and not one of those break-it-for-the-story good way cases.

11) Which is easier to write: guys or girls?

Strangely I find guys somewhat easier to write. I’m not sure if that’s because my female characters end up with all my baggage or because the preponderance of fictional (or hell, non-fictional) main characters is male and it’s a bias I haven’t gotten rid of. That said, most often, the gender (or lack thereof) of a character usually clicks when it feels right, regardless of what it is. Same with what kind of people/beings they’re attracted to, if anyone.

19) Do you write from beginning to end, or jump around in your story.

The vast majority of my stories are written beginning-to-end. I typically get the big bits in movie-trailer inspiration. All the highlights and the Really Big Notes I want to hit in the story. Sometimes I write these down, which would no doubt improve my Finishing Things metric. Writing the thing is the slow trail to each of the dots I want to connect.

#memes #BrightEphemera #answers

3 notes · View notes

split-n-splice · 5 years

Photo

"Her reputation going sour was no secret." – a line of interest from Ch1 of The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie. ;3 Just throwin’ that out there. Also! A definite nod to the cupcakery here, because headcanon: those recipes were taken from Drakken’s cookbook. Also headcanon: Drakken likes baking, fite me. This makes sense to me since Ron likes baking, and since Drakken’s shown interest in recipes.

Edited by @gogofordrakgo ♥ (ohlawd thnx for putting up w/ me)

[Chapter Guide]

7. Enabler – 4

As his first day alone in more than two weeks wore on, Dr. Drakken became increasingly aware he was off his game.

He haphazardly wrapped up the order of power staves and shipped them off to free up his schedule. Even left with a surplus of free time on his hands, left in the total privacy of his lab with no one to hover and no distracting upgrades to personalized combat gear to win himself brownie points, he made very little headway on his drones.

He managed to get one robot up and running, so to speak, but commands that seemed so simple like stand and walk just didn’t compute. Yet the buggy self-aware machine managed to rise on its own accord and point to the unassembled duplicates strewn about in a thousand different pieces on his worktable. Worst of all, the bare-bones robot began chanting, “sisters, sisters, sisters,” incessantly until something Drakken said or did caused its head to snap his direction. Preservation activated and an artificial fight or flight drive tripped, unfortunately geared toward fight. The skeletal droid abruptly announced him a threat to the sisters and lurched into action. Lucky for him, there was still a plug to pull.

He could have used some assistance in disabling the mutinous drone, but he managed on his own, as he always had. He shut down the project for the day to tend to a swollen lip received in the collision of steel knuckles and his face.

Back in his quarters, he couldn’t help casting glances to the phone, itching to dial – to dial someone. Anyone. He knew exactly who he wanted to ring up and give an earful to, but he clenched his fists and stamped a foot and grunted to himself as he stalked away from the landline. He had a headache and didn’t need to deal with her attitude now anyway.

Solitude was still disheartening. If he had expected a call from the runaway that evening to update him of her progress or lack thereof, or even to say goodnight or make small talk or anything at all, then he was sorely disappointed.

Drakken knew she wouldn’t have approved – in fact he was certain she would have been furious with him if she’d known – but he’d taken the liberty of sending out henchmen to gather intel on the superhuman. Granted, he’d lost those resourceful fellows, who’d only just returned from the assignment with their haul a day before getting the axe.

As Drakken lugged the overflowing box out of the storage room the next day, he reasoned with himself that he deserved to know who he’d been harboring, especially if he planned to continue to do so. He’d been just a little too wary to touch the box before, lest she pop up behind him to catch him red handed.

He deposited it on his coffee table and locked the door to his quarters for good measure, just in case the woman returned and came barging in at an especially undesirable time.

An abundance of manila folders stuffed with news articles topped the box, and if the men hadn’t already been fired, Drakken might have tipped whoever was responsible for courteously ordering the articles by date, even if he’d nearly scattered them as he unthinkingly tossed them aside while rummaging. VHS and cassette tapes at the bottom of the box made up the other half of the heft. Infiltrating a Global Justice base to steal her official records had been asking too much of the henchman, but an excess of media coverage to expose her would have to be good enough.

With the Bebe bots a bust and a woman who wasn’t even present distracting him still, Drakken settled in to squander his day reading what the sacked henchmen had scrounged up. He could spend an entire week reviewing her hero streak, reading the articles and watching the news reports or listening to interviews on tape, but he elected to skim through the past the four years worth of clippings, pulling out a folder from the bottom of the stack to begin.

A few nights ago, at three in the morning, he had been woken by the girl slamming his “front” door and stalking to his kitchen, the green embers glittering over her skin burning off perspiration and nearly setting her pajamas ablaze. She forwent a glass and drank straight from the faucet before hanging over his sink to hold her head under the stream of water, cursing about a comet. She’d looked just a little too unstable for him to hazard questioning her then, and had returned to his room to let her raid his kitchen for a midnight snack in peace.

So Dr. Drakken wasn’t altogether surprised when the earliest scant news coverage regarded a chip off a comet that had struck down in the suburbs of Go City. It had come so fast and so sudden that there had only been a couple blurry shots of the meteorite’s decent and recovery to accompany the articles. That it hadn’t left a bigger crater or caused fatalities was a mystery, but there was no mention of five quarantined adolescents caught up in the catastrophe either, so a cover-up wasn’t improbable.

Within the year, a trio of teenagers in uniform were garnering admiration of the general populace with their heroic feats. Front-page photos of a distantly familiar girl with her hair still short and boyish beside defeated villains bound up and posed with like trophies, frequently smiling smugly for the camera, should have been enough to make any villain in his right mind reconsider taking her in. Drakken wanted to believe he knew her better than that – that she wasn’t the vigilante she claimed she never wanted to be, and that there was no chance she might be on her way back to his lair with her teammates to hand his ass to him at any moment – but it wasn’t so easy.

Guiltily, he came realize that maybe she hadn’t been pulling his leg about her piloting capability after all when he found a clipping from last fall, featuring a photograph of a far more recognizable woman in uniform along with two young men like her in front of a jet as colorful as their suits, which had been generously donated to them by Global Justice. The Go Tower constructed in the bay a year earlier served as a monument and a base, and Dr. Drakken would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little envious that some superhuman youths had it all handed to them on a silver platter just for swearing an oath to use their gifts for good.

The set of gloves he’d fashioned paled in comparison to the extravagant gifts from Global Justice and Go City. Clearly, giving her things was no way to win her allegiance, because the girl’s hero career had been short-lived. She’d served little more than three years. If she’d only abided by their rules, she could have been living it up, yet she’d formally quit her team months ago.

As of this year, there was a marked change in the tone of the headers. There was less and less praise to be found, until there was next to none at all. If he’d been hoping to find reassurance she was genuinely a bad seed, he got it, though snooping made him feel worse with each article he skimmed over.

Nasty gossip sprung up like weeds. Disbelief and speculation aplenty could be found in clippings from newspapers and magazines as to why she’d abandoned her occupation as a beloved hero. The supply of libel following her resignation was endless. If he had to guess, serving under Global Justice had kept such publications suppressed before, but she’d lost that perk when she put her foot down on doing their bidding.

Blasting scandalous, one popular rumor circulated that she’d withdrawn because she was a typical case of irresponsible teen pregnancy, such negligence marking her unfit to be a role model any longer. That she was still occasionally seen in uniform despite her quitting should have proven she wasn’t expecting – but instead it inspired ridicule and controversy over endangerment and abortion. There was no wining on that front without a good lawyer, which he doubted the girl behind the mask could afford without Global Justice’s charity.

That lost traction when the former hero lashed out at a news reporter on live television. Written accounts played it off as if it had been unprovoked, but Dr. Drakken found a tape on the incident at the bottom of the box that proved otherwise. He was hesitant to hit play on the copy of the broadcast. The masked young woman trying to escape a bombardment of questions was hard to watch as she was confronted by the press with the matter of substance abuse, among other things, all because marijuana was said to be smelled on her clothes. Once detox was mentioned, the cornered superhuman – disheveled and fresh out of an unsanctioned battle – lost her cool and attacked the reporter outright. It was all caught on camera until she was swept away screaming profanities by her gorilla of a brother.

Less than a month later, paparazzi spotted her outside of her hero attire, a familiar ponytail and mismatched boots enough to give her away. It was bad enough she was recognized without her uniform and mask, but she was caught smoking with some punks on a school campus. The snapshot was fuzzy, and there was no way to distinguish what was probably only a cigarette from anything else, but nevertheless it brought an impending graduation into question.

It did not help when some wacked-out addict, an unreliable source if there ever was one, came forward claiming to have taught her the art of cooking meth. The junkie was later found battered and left on the steps of a rehab center. Her signature plasma burns left on the man sparked ever more gossip as to her changing demeanor and bad habits.

On the hero scene, Shego had been golden – but after quitting, the press wasted no time in tarnishing her reputation. Her worsening temper and foul mouth didn’t help the backlash. Her name had been drug through the mud over the past six months, with only a few gems of praise from faithful groupies to be found among the stack of slander.

Dr. Drakken wouldn’t be surprised if it was all true, even the conspiracy theories mixed in about her being from another planet.

"This is why I don't like the hero scene. Everyone knows everything," she’d told him the night he’d found her wandering down a highway in the dark. He hadn’t had much to lose that night when he went with a gut feeling and sprung the proposition on the downtrodden young woman, but whether or not it was the right decision remained to be seen.

Given the stress of the media hounding her every move, both on and off duty, and the family turmoil he’d witnessed from a distance, Dr. Drakken had to bottle his pity for how discontent the runaway must have been to actually jump in a car with an utter stranger and just go.

Before the guilt of prying could get to him too badly, he called it quits and stuffed everything back into the box, double-checking the VCR to be sure he didn’t forget anything she might find later. She’d made it explicitly clear she didn’t want him digging into her past. Even if the box contained publicly available media – for the most part – going through it left a bad taste in his mouth, as if he’d been reading her diary.

Despite the evidence he had that she was indeed a bad apple with a slim chance of returning to her old life, it still felt unwise to put everything on the line for an ex-hero that could easily thwart his plans from the inside. Drakken sat back and shut his eyes, straining to take her words to heart no matter how difficult it was to do so.

“Trust her,” he snorted. “Trust her to what? Bring her brothers to my doorstep?”

But then, he supposed she could have done that already. If she’d wanted to stop him before he could become a major threat, she could have cornered him back in Go City, when she had her team close by to back her up. And even once she was in the lair, she’d had ample time to call in the hounds, and plenty of opportunity to hack into his computers to uncover any master plans, yet she hadn’t busted him yet.

Drakken slumped with his head thrown back over the spine of the couch, stewing a short while on how trustworthy this new partner of his really was, before tuning in to Go City broadcasts to watch the news. She’d only been gone about thirty hours, but he still waited with the bleak expectation to hear some breaking news announcement of her return to the metropolis, anticipating it to be a reason to rejoice. None came, but it still served to worry him.

Leaving the television on, he gave it just a little longer as his stomach drew him toward his kitchen. He’d never had breakfast. He wasn’t even sure if he’d had dinner yesterday. The phone drew his eye though, and he forcibly looked away from it and to the fridge as he took inventory. It was getting a tad late to start on any lab projects, and he could still taste a sore reminder of yesterday’s mishap on his lip.

A check through his cookbook and he found himself gravitating back toward the phone once again. He grudgingly made a call, although it wasn’t the number his fingers itched to dial, and greeted his mother with a weary, “Hello,” and waited for the next half hour for the woman’s exuberance to die down enough to get a word in edgewise.

“That one?” chirped his mother. “Honey, are you feeling alright?”

Drakken blinked and sucked on his split lip. “Relatively speaking,” he slipped. He fished out his notebook and spread it open, eager to get the call over with. “Um. The market will be closing soon,” he lied. “So can I get that recipe?”

“Only if you call me later to tell me how they turn out,” the woman haggled haughtily.

“I’ve made devil’s food before, mother,” he sighed, drumming his pen on the pad. He noticed the pages of memos on the recent gloves and flipped to a fresh page with a small snort.

“Not with my recipe, you haven’t,” chided the woman, and proceeded to let him in on the family secrets in detail. Word for word, he copied down the recipe she knew by heart, running the instructions and ingredients by her once before thanking his mother and heading out the door.

By midnight, a sweet tooth had been satisfied, but sitting alone at the counter with a warm devil’s food muffin drizzled with chocolate ganache just brought his awareness to a weird sort of cavity he wasn’t unfamiliar with but had been successful in ignoring for years – until now, apparently.

He decided he’d have to tell his mother about the muffins tomorrow. It was late, and if he dared pick up the phone now, he might dial the wrong number accidentally on purpose.

The third day alone wasn’t any more productive than the last, but at least he didn’t spend it holed up in his quarters gorging on muffins. True, he’d slept through his alarm, but he gave himself the excuse that it was Sunday, and he’d spent the latter half of his night lying wide awake staring at his ceiling in a vain effort to get some shut eye.

He could tell himself all he wanted that fresh air would do him some good, but it was a lie. Testing out a back-burner product on new targets the henchmen had been tasked to whip up did little to improve his mood. The vaporizing rifle prototype did its job fine, obliterating the targets, though the sight was off and it really needed work to fix an issue of kickback that just about dislocated his shoulder.

Other than taking down a couple memos to be sure he did that, he didn’t make any progress to speak of on his projects. The random destruction of dummies and henchmen fearing they’d be the next targets did little to inspire him and get his head back in the game.

He knew exactly who to blame for it, too. Little ol’ her was a troublesome woman. Though he wasn’t sure if he was worried for her wellbeing – maybe a little, but maybe not – he was certainly stressed enough worrying about the potential consequences letting her go could have. The thorn in his side wasn’t even here and she had him more distracted and frazzled than ever.

Drakken shoved the elaborate rifle into the hands of the henchman on standby and ordered him to return the contraption to the closet, but the henchman didn’t march off immediately, and instead asked something as daringly out of line and ludicrous as, “Rough breakup?” Which sent Drakken reeling as if he’d been cut, and he vehemently ordered the goon to get a move on if he didn’t want to be booted along with the rest.

He ate another damn muffin for lunch, knowing damn well the sweet confection wouldn’t improve his bitter mood.

When the phone rang, he was all too quick to dive for it. Answering was a mistake, and he struggled with the balance of taking bites of savory chocolate and holding a conversation with his nosy mother. She accused him of being upset and went through a list of every likely reason why, and he denied every possibility. If the nagging didn’t alleviate the loneliness somewhat, he would have hung up.

“It’s a girl, isn’t it?” his mother finally guessed, and Drakken had to bite his tongue and hold the phone out lest she hear his weary groan. No matter how wildly far off the mark she was, it was an inevitable question she always fired off at some point – only this time, maybe for the first time in history, she was actually right. Sort of. But he sure wasn’t going to admit that.

“No, mother,” he droned. “It’s just been a rough week,” he assured her for the umpteenth time. It really hadn’t been. Slaving over unique gloves had actually been quite rewarding, the worst part of the week being the part where his car got hijacked and he was left worrying if the new recruit would be friend or foe when she came back, if she came back at all.

After the phone call, he eyed the plate of delectable muffins sitting out on the counter, and decided it best to stow the remaining half dozen of them in the refrigerator out of sight before he could make himself sick.

The next day, Drakken was drilling it into his own head that he didn’t miss having anyone to hover, breathe down his neck, or criticize him as he tinkered with the fine inner workings of a robot brain. If he could only get the droids up and running like half-operational human beings, the Bebes would theoretically fill the human need for company. And even if they didn’t, he still had three organic subordinates – the henchmen – to fall back on. He didn’t need a snarky girl leaning on him and giving him sass trying to get his goat.

His lip was curled at the very thought of someone breaching his personal bubble uninvited when suddenly his subject booted up. It took him a second of staring back at the robot before the Bebe blinked mechanically and he leapt back. What really scared the bejeebers out of him was the fact the android hadn’t even been plugged in to a power source. Before she could fully start up, he reached into the Bebe’s cranium to pull out the CPU to put her to sleep for a nice long while until he was ready to deal with self-aware robots sporting hyperactive preservation drives again. The other two dormant severed heads received the same treatment just to be on the safe side.

His heart was still thudding from the first surprise when he received another unwelcomed jolt.

The room flashed red and a bone-rattling siren buzzed to announce a threat. Either someone had sounded the alarm, something had been tripped, or something malfunctioned. Whatever the case, he was in too much of a foul mood to be pleased by the uncharacteristically swift response of two of his henchmen cutting through the lab with their staves ready.

False alarms were more common than not at this point. There must have been one at least once a month for the past year since establishing his Nevada lair.

Dr. Drakken cast aside his tools and replaced his goggles with his eyeglasses, ready to storm out after the goons to find out what the hullaballoo was all about. It was probably just another unfortunate raccoon stuck in the fence.

Before he could take three steps from his work station, a henchman’s voice crackling over the intercom made him jump once more. “Dr. Drakken, sir, you’re needed outside,” came the urgent summon, and Drakken heard a thunderous snarl booming before the intercom clicked off.

It certainly didn’t sound like snared wildlife.

The insistent siren alone induced a dreadfully unwanted adrenaline rush, urging him to hurry and shut the alarm off at the lab desk. Even without the blaring system that had left his ears ringing, he swore he could still feel a rumble under his feet, and cast a nervous glance upwards at the stalactites holding steady before he exited the lab.

He all but ran down to the garage. The second he opened the door and stomped out from the foyer, he heard the rumble of a jet engine dying down to a whine, and if he didn’t associate the sound with military, he might not be so concerned of the trouble that could be brewing.

The thought that he should have brought a weapon with him was fleeting.

Before he could make it outside to search the sky for the source of the rumble, his jaw dropped.

He wasn’t anticipating a jet to come rolling out of the dark and into the half-lit hangar, the wingspan barely making it through the broad garage door. The flashy new sky beast sported multicolored streaks and bolts, and as it came to a stop in the middle of the scrap-filled warehouse, it dawned on Drakken exactly where it had come from. He’d seen that jet before in a photograph just the other day.

As his men rushed in after the aircraft in the hot wake of the engines, their electrified rods raised in defense, Drakken stormed toward it, his livid glare locked on the single figure onboard.

The top popped and rose with a hiss to reveal the pilot, whose hands were held up in peace for a moment to give the henchmen pause before the intruder pulled off the helmet and mask. The aloof subordinate stood up in the cockpit, shook out her hair, and shot an outrageously smug smirk to Dr. Drakken.

++X++

Shego slid down from the body of the aircraft and didn’t have a chance to appreciate solid ground or even utter a greeting before Dr. Drakken reached her, and she could only stare in a surprised stupor as he raised a hand at her.

Next she was wide-eyed in shock and reaching up for the sting across her cheek. It hadn’t hurt, but it didn’t change the fact he’d slapped her. She was taken aback for a moment. “What was that?” she blurted, turning a sneer back to him. “You hit like a baby!” Honestly, her baby brothers had whopped her worse than that.

And what was that he’d said about the next man to lay a hand on her?

She could get him back later, she decided, because she was pleased to be back regardless of his indiscernible sputtering and tantrum. Though she couldn’t pretend to understand what had his panties in a twist. She’d kept her word, hadn’t she?

What she could do was chortle when the fuming man made a grab for her before he could calm down enough to think twice. It was hard to hold him at fault when he was a villain and had likely conditioned himself to act out, assuming he wasn’t already violent by nature, but she wouldn’t hesitate to teach him not to take out that temper on her if he pushed his luck any further.

Curious if he would however, she let him catch her roughly by the arm. But Drakken faltered once he had her – it was clear he hadn’t expected it to be that easy, or maybe some sense caught up to him – and his moment of surprise made it easy for her to pull her arm away.

Catching him off guard, she slipped behind his back. Her hands snuck up his suit jacket to find the back pockets of his trousers, making him jump. His yelp wasn’t particularly masculine.

“Yoink,” she chirped, making off with his wallet as the startled man swung around.

Shego impishly remained two steps ahead of Dr. Drakken in pursuit of her, purely for the sake of egging him on although he was clearly riled up enough. She stole a gander at his driver’s license as she shuffled backwards. “Andrew?” she snorted. He sputtered something with a note of embarrassment and lunged for it. She jumped back, plucked a twenty from the wallet, and finally surrendered it.

Drakken roughly snatched his wallet back from her outstretched hand, still practically shaking in his tantrum, a funny shade of purple creeping over his face. The indignant doctor barked her name furiously and lurched toward her again, but she leapt back out of reach for good measure.

“Missed me, missed me,” she sang childishly, skipping back and smiling wryly at the hotheaded man.

He wasn’t calming down, none too pleased to be played with. Before she could knock it off on her own accord, Dr. Drakken gnashed his teeth and finally exploded something coherent, “SEIZE HER!”

To which Shego cocked a brow, and before she knew it, she was being restrained and shoved to her knees by a pair of henchmen, her arms twisted and secured behind her back. She knew she could still get the better of them, but she chose not to fight it as she watched suspiciously, once again curious to see just what Dr. Drakken thought he was going to do. She was done playing now though. Did he really think she would accept being slapped and manhandled, just like that? With him glaring as harshly as he was, she had half a mind to spit plasma at him when he stalked up to her.

The mad scientist opened his mouth and raised a finger to lay into her verbally when she sighed heavily and relaxed against the henchmen’s clutches. “Okay,” she began. “So I lost your car, but I got the jet, didn’t I?”

Drakken’s purple-faced humiliation and anger ebbed as he threw a glance back, and his rigid shoulders slumped. She could see his temper cooling he studied the aircraft parked in his garage. She’d stayed true to her word, but it seemed like he was only just now registering that she had in fact brought him a jet.

“Where did you get it?” he quizzed suspiciously as he turned back to eyeball her. Just about anyone else would have received plasma to the face for eyeing her body, but Shego had the funny feeling he was looking less at her figure and more at her pristine new uniform she’d stolen from the Go Tower – although the nature of his stare made it only slightly less unnerving.

“Just something from home,” she said flippantly, fixing a wry smile on her face.

“You stole tech from Global Justice,” he uttered.

“Not really, I mean – it was a gift,” she grumbled, casting her eyes down. That didn’t change the fact that big brother monitored its usage.

Drakken must have realized that, because his eyes shot wide in dismay an instant before the anger from moments ago boiled back to the surface. “They can track it here!” he gasped in alarm as he whirled on the threat in his lair.

Shego, on the other hand, lacked the same fear. The fact she remained unbothered seemed to enough to distress him.

“Cool the engines, Dr. D,” she called nonchalantly before he could fret over how to get a beacon out of his lair. “I squashed a few bugs, snipped a few wires. Give me some credit. I’m not just another stupid thug here.” He looked back to her as she nodded back to the henchmen holding her to make a point, but it hardly calmed him.

She tried to add a smile and a cheery on top, “Oh, and – it can hover. It’s a hover jet. Far out, right?” She was really quite proud of herself, and couldn’t help beaming as she patiently waited to be commended. An order for her release would be nice, at least.

Dr. Drakken stepped back from her and ran a hand down his face. He held it over his mouth and stifled a whine, and Shego noticed he looked almost pained as he glanced back to the stolen mass of technology. “Release her,” he grunted to his men with a dismissive wave, and stalked away to go inspect the aircraft. As Shego crept up carefully behind him, she heard him muttering incredulously to himself, “I can use this. I can really use this.”

“So, uh,” she started, and he flashed a glower back at her over his shoulder. She smiled sheepishly. “Does this make up for taking off and losing your car?” She decided, maybe, he didn’t need to know yet that she’s driven it off a pier and sank it in the ocean in the heat of the moment whilst fleeing the police earlier. She hoped there hadn’t been anything important in it.

Dr. Drakken surveyed her, his brow creased and his expression that of indecision as he considered the loss of his car in return for the multi-million-dollar aircraft. He settled for giving Shego’s shoulder a ginger pat. “I think I’ll keep you,” he said finally.

#The Company You Keep fic #drakgo

13 notes · View notes

ahgasescenarios · 6 years

Text

Better than Sephora- Yuta

PART 10- CHRISTMAS WITH NCT

Drabble 8- 12 sexy days of Christmas- Yuta

Word count: 783

A/N: Sorry to disappoint, but 12 days was way too long to do so I just morphed it all into one ;) I had to google for this scenario so let's appreciate that extra effort lol. It's just another kinkmas day with Yuta, you already know it's gonna be smut (: also I made myself cringe quite a lot writing this so don't be too harsh on me please and thank u Love you and thanks for all the love you've been showing these drabbles, it makes my day every day!

You had never been the traditional type, so when it came to the holidays it was only normal that your gifts were a little unorthodox (to put it nicely). This year you had decided to focus on your boyfriend Yuta: his gift coming in the form of peculiar coupons.

There were five coupons to be exact (leading up to Christmas Day) each one suggesting a different sex-related activity for the day. You weren’t going to lie, you found the idea online but you thought it was brilliant; like an advent calendar with a modern, adult twist.

Yuta had approved the idea straight away, of course, what guy in their right mind would reject an opportunity like this? For day one, you had decided to tease your boyfriend a little by wearing a revealing dress with sexy lingerie underneath- to his office Christmas party.

“What do you think you’re wearing?”

He leaned on the doorway, staring at your full-body mirror.

“Tsk-tsk. This is part of the sexy days of Christmas, babe.”

He raised his eyebrows at you, not buying it. He slid his hand under your tights, letting them slap your skin when he let go.

“Fine. But you know what'll happen if you try anything.”

He slapped your ass playfully before walking away.

That night was a bust, he never budged under your many attempts to provoke him – or so you thought. The second you passed the threshold to his apartment, he picked you up bridal style and only let you down to “throw” you on the bed.

“About those 5 days of sex you mentioned, how about we do all of them tonight?”

“Hold on, let me get my flashcards-“ (a/n: me probably)

“No need. We can just improvise, yeah?”

You muttered an okay. He left momentarily to get the “props” needed. He came back with a can of whipped cream in one hand and the eggnog carton in the other all the while leaving you wondering what he planned to do with those. The only thing you knew for certain was that Yuta never disappoints.

He whispered what he wanted you to do with the whipped cream and you licked your lips in anticipation. You sprayed some on his already hardened member -perhaps the teasing had worked after all- and you quite literally licked your way up, starting from the tip all the way to his stomach.

“Just like that.” He grabbed your head rather forcefully, opting to fuck your mouth instead of the other way around.

He let out a few groans, voicing his contentment before you could feel the hot liquid roll down your throat and swallowed it. He wiped the excess off your mouth with his thumb.

“Such a good girl for me. I think you deserve a reward, baby.”

You laid on the bed, naked, following his instructions. He blindfolded you with his tie (a/n: fifty shades of grey inspired sorry, not sorry) and left you in the dark (haha literally) for a few.

“Now, you’re not going to move an inch or make a single sound if you want to cum, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You automatically replied.

And with a smirk you couldn’t see, he poured a little of the eggnog on your body, right in the crease of your abs (or lack thereof because same). You shivered at the cold contact, regaining your composure in the blink of an eye.

When Yuta's lips sipped on the cold liquid, you couldn’t help but gasp which made your loving boyfriend halt.

“Tsk-tsk, stay still baby.”

He sipped his way down, stopping only a few ways away from your core. He took some eggnog from the carton, keeping a certain amount in his mouth to trail up your thighs with.

You were resisting the urge to squirm under his touch and it was the hardest thing you’d ever done.

Once he was satisfied with your stillness, he dove right in. You yelped out his name, incapable of keeping any sound to yourself anymore.

Your hands gripped the sheets as Yuta worked his magic, guiding you to your orgasm in mere minutes. By the time you were done, you were both out of breath and quite dirty if you were being honest.

“How about,” he paused “we take this party to the shower? We could make it a two in one” He winked suggestively.

You followed your boyfriend to the bathroom all giddy and excited. The holidays didn’t mean much to you in general, but spending quality time with your boyfriend did- even if you were just having sex. So maybe it wasn’t traditional, but it was way damn better than any Sephora/Pandora gift anyone could ever give you.

#kpop #writing #nct #yuta #nakamoto yuta #nct yuta #nct reactions #nct scenarios #christmas drabbles #kpop christmas #christmas with nct #kinkmas #smut #yuta smut #whipped cream #eggnog

141 notes · View notes

houseki-no-suffering · 5 years

Link

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Human AU, 1960s AU Characters: Cinnabar/Phosphophyllite, Diamond, Euclase, Bort, Alex, Yellow

A/N: in which we meet the other half of Cinnabar’s not quite huge friend’s list. Ty so much to @lapishead for betareading my commas away and to @rinboz for her help with Bort’s character. Enjoy!

The thought of going home and accidentally stumbling into Phos on the way persuaded Cinnabar to linger on the beach. They hadn’t meant to, but at a certain point their body surrendered to exhaustion and they fell asleep on the sand, crouched against one of the boats that the fishermen left on the shore. It was their voices that woke Cinnabar up, a little before dawn, and Cinnabar would have apologized profusely if their mind wasn’t still absorbed by other thoughts.

Now that the realization had sunk in, Cinnabar felt even more lost. They tried to come up with alternatives as the town grew nearer, a blur of sparse lights and white buildings. The only thing they felt absolutely sure about was that they wanted to shut themselves in their new home until Phos had left again. With nothing to do except overthink and go through old textbooks, they would graduate in no time if this went on long enough.

Cinnabar was worrying their third cup of coffee in their hands when they accepted that their fingers would not stop shaking just because they were safe in the confined space of Bort’s bedroom. And an excess of caffeine hardly had something to do with it. Outside or inside, it made no difference: their mind would not stop working.

They remembered so many mornings lazily spent on Diamond’s bed when Phos was fourteen. Bort would be crouched at the foot of the bed, holding a book, and Dia would braid their hair in complicated plaits, trying out every trick they had gleaned from being around Red Beryl. They would hum and sing as they ran their fingers through Bort’s hair, and Cinnabar would listen quietly, curled up on their own bed.

It was always so peaceful and silent. Cinnabar would keep their eyes closed, pretending to sleep while waiting for Phos to wake up. The ungracious sound of their feet running through the corridor was hard to miss, but Cinnabar would have traded high school one hundred times more just to hear it.

Yellow Diamond had warned them against easy decisions, and Cinnabar could blame no one but themselves for obsessing over someone that had considered Cinnabar temporary. And yet, every foggy morning spent waiting for the train, every hour spent sitting on hard desks, surrounded by people Cinnabar did not know and didn’t want to know, left a dull, cold ache in Cinnabar’s chest. The taste of wasting time that could otherwise been spent in selfish, childish ways.

The light that filtered through the shutters of Bort’s room was suddenly eerily similar to how the sun would caress Cinnabar’s old room at the dormitory, just a moment before Phos walked into the room to snuggle beside them. The wallpaper too was similar, with its peachy, little flowers: the more Cinnabar looked at it, the more alike it became. If they closed their eyes, their mind would make Cinnabar believe that Phos could burst in the room at any moment.

Cinnabar’s fingers clutched the cup tightly, almost spilling its contents. They needed to talk with someone.

They ran their eyes around the room, looking for an excuse not to do it. Their gaze was met by cardboard boxes and clothes, half-read books and scribbled papers. Along with the white ceiling, their newly-moved in possessions had started to judge Cinnabar’s unpacking plans, or lack thereof. It was too much work just for the sake of running away from anxiety.

Cinnabar ran a hand through their hair, debated about washing it when their fingers hit a snag in the middle, discarded even this task as too demanding, stared at the wall for a solid minute and then stood up. They walked to the telephone and placed the handset to their ear to make a call. Their chest was thumping. They truly hoped that Bort would answer because Cinnabar did not know if they could muster enough desperation to call them again later.

The mid-ranged pitch of the dial tone filled Cinnabar’s ears as they waited for the Naval Academy’s secretary to connect the call to their friend. Cinnabar held their breath, their fingers torturing the telephone’s cord. Bort was the kind of person to be home on a Sunday morning, but what did Cinnabar know.

“Yes?” and then Bort’s voice reached Cinnabar from the other side of the country and Shinsha felt guilty for being so annoying and insecure, but they still let out a breath of relief.

“It’s me…”

“Shinsha? Something’s up?”

“No, how’re you doing? How’s school there?”

“It’s okay. Tight schedule.”

Of course it would be; some people dared make plans for the future and then work to make them a reality.

“Don’t overwork yourself.”

“I’m here to learn.”

“Okay.”

“So, what’s up?”

“What’s up with what?” Cinnabar twisted the cord around their finger once more. Their grip was so tight it almost hurt.

“You calling. Is it Dia? Are they… okay?”

“Yeah, they’re fine.”

“Good.”

A couple of seconds was all it would take Bort to inquire about Cinnabar again, so they forced themselves to keep talking.

“I moved in.”

“Oh, good. How did it go?”

“Good, yeah, it’s fine.”

“Clean up every other day, you promised.”

Ugh.

“Yeah, yeah, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that. I’m coming back for my birthday.”

“Fine, I’ll try.”

“Good.”

A few seconds elapsed and Bort’s pragmatism focused its attention back before Cinnabar could pile up the courage to hang up the phone.

“Something’s up,” they pronounced their verdict.

“Nothing’s up.”

“You wouldn’t call if nothing’s up.”

“Well, I just did.”

“I can drag it out of you, I don’t mind.”

Suddenly the thought of speaking with Bort only to have someone agree with them was no longer that appealing. Cinnabar stayed silent for a few seconds, still debating whether to tell their friend or not. Then they pushed the words past their lips.

“Guess who’s back…”

“What?”

“Back. Guess who’s back after five fucking years.”

“Wh-“ a pause, the time for Bort’s voice to betray emotion, “for real?”

“Yeah.”

“What do they want? Did you talk?”

“Hell if I know, and no, we didn’t and it’s great this way.”

“Are they out of their mind? Was Antarc there?”

There was a line of disbelief in the way Bort pronounced Antarcticite’s name. Back then, they had taken a strong liking to Antarc’s interests and it was Antarc who had inspired them to pursue a career in the military. While Bort had still judged biased Phos’ rushed choices, they had never been able to be angry at Antarc for what happened. As much as they were trying to keep their interest in check for Cinnabar’s sake, it still showed.

“Euc says they’re alone. I don’t know, I don’t wanna know.”

The line went silent once more. Cinnabar could hear the gears turning in Bort’s mind as their younger friend thought of something worth saying, settling for the simple efficiency of silence when nothing valuable came up. Bort was the person you turned to when you needed a swift solution, not comfort, but Cinnabar’s list of friends was thin.

“Are you okay?” they finally asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel. I shouldn’t even feel anything, it’s just… Phos-level bullshit all over again, why should I care... I know where this is going, it’s always the same, it’s stupid, and I don’t wanna- but I still do… I still care anyway. Like, it’s affecting me, I’m stupid. Please tell me I shouldn’t care, hit me with a stick or something.”

“Don’t self-deprecate your way out of this. What’s exactly the problem?”

“Phos is my problem!”

“Shinsha!”

Cinnabar pinched the bridge of their nose, feeling older and more bitter than their years. The exhaustion from a night spent outdoors like an emotionally wrecked vagrant was washing over them in waves of anger and disillusion, leaving Cinnabar more drained each time it pulled back.

“It’s my fault,” they murmured, “I’m afraid. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I still… I think about it cause I’m stupid and now they’re back, like… it’s them again. They’re right here. What do you think they want? Do they wanna talk? Why now? How dare they… and it’s my fault because I’m still thinking about it, I just… I wish they’d go away. I wish they’d disappear, that I’d disappear, I don’t wanna see where this is going.”

“You don’t owe them anything, Shinsha. Ignore them. They didn’t even apologize. I don’t want you to be caught up in that again. Just leave them be.”

“Isn’t that childish?”

“Phos is childish. They up and leave and now they’re back. They’re unreliable.”

“But what if there’s a reason, why do you think they came back?”

“Because they’re bored. Probably not even Antarc could stand it. They played their little games, messed something up so now they come back like a kicked puppy. And they’re still arrogant about it.”

“Yeah…” this too was familiar. Bort’s rage, the way they described Phos, Phos’ mistakes. The remnants of some old instinct were telling Cinnabar they should defend Phos and Cinnabar almost did because Bort was being harsh, fueling Cinnabar’s desire for anger to the point of spilling it- and Cinnabar was unprepared to deal with the excess of emotion. It left a bitter taste in their mouth.

“They leave, they disappear, they come back. Don’t let this get to your head, you did nothing wrong.”

“Okay.”

“And I… I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

Cinnabar nodded, as if Bort could see them from the other side of the phone and of the country. They sounded like a numb, obedient puppy and it was so pathetic that they were tempted to hang the phone again and spare Bort the spectacle.

“Alright. I’ll send you my timetable, pass it around. Just don’t call me when I’m busy. Especially Euc. I can’t spend all my time at the phone.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I’m coming back for my birthday, I have a leave. I can show you the uniform…”

“Cool, I’d love that.”

The line went silent for a moment, leaving Bort the time to recover from the embarrassment of opening up.

“Ask Dia to help you clean up, they’re better than you at least.”

“Thanks.”

“Talk to you soon.”

“See ya,” and, with a click, Bort hung up and the line went silent again. It took Cinnabar a moment to realize that they had been left with the burden of dropping the news that Bort would be visiting to Dia.

They let themselves fall on the bed with a loud groan, feeling the first pangs of a headache crawling their way through Cinnabar’s consciousness. They could always hope that one worry would drive away the other.

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk #cinnaphos #cinnabar #phosphophyllite #bort #fic tag #1960s au

26 notes · View notes

canvasofthecosmos · 6 years

Text

Chiron in the Signs & Houses

Where Chiron is, there is a slow, itching burn here that’s always in the back of your head, but this is also what those closest to you might appreciate the most, as they’ve learned much from you in this area. Potent healing powers come from frantic overcompensation, as the wound was developed in your upbringing.

Keywords:

Woundedness

Healing

Overcompensation

Constant Learning

Personal quest

Longing

Sacrifice

The key

Click here to go to the extended chart selection on Astro.com. Under additional objects, go to ‘multiple selections possible,’ under ‘asteroids’ and select Chiron. You can also select aspects up to and including Chiron. Astrotheme.com also includes Chiron in the natal chart drawing. His glyph looks like a key with a ‘K’ on top.

Chiron in Aries/1st House: Headaches and head injuries are common here. Overemphasis, or lack thereof, on the self inspires others’ self care. You may seem selfless as you have a deep personal wound with unbridled spontaneity. Others take advantage of your care, and love for yourself is hard to come by, as you likely felt ignored as a child, leading to current feelings of worthlessness. Take more time for yourself and don’t exhaust your fire on people who are less than worthy, as you are on a journal of personal discovery. You may have grown up early, realizing quickly how you’re taken advantage of. New starts/endeavors feel false and you feel more like a stepping stone than a source of boundless energy. You have to fight depression often and often focus on others more than yourself, trying to allow them the softness you’ve never felt as you know how harsh the world can be. Don’t be afraid to start things on your own, as this can be liberating even if only for a short while.

Chiron in Taurus/2nd House: Throat injuries, lost voices or your own ‘voice’ not being found is commonplace. Your personal wound is security, and possessions are taken advantage of, making you never feel like you have enough. This can give way to excess when the inner world is ignored and your personal sense of value is off kilter, which happens a lot since you felt like you didn’t get enough of something when you were young. You probably didn’t have a lot as a kid, and had to make due with whatever was around you. This can show up later in life as hoarder-like tendencies, as you never feel like you have enough to work with. At the same time, you can see value in things others have given up on or never see anything good in. This attracts people who prefer to make excuses rather than develop themselves. Don’t squander your precious resources and sturdiness on people who depend on you to enable bad habits. Remember that you have enough, you are enough, and things will fall into place, eventually.

Chiron in Gemini/3rd House: Arms are easily exhausted. Finding your voice has been a struggle because you may have been criticized as a kid for expressing yourself. You feel talked over or brushed off when you speak. When you are heard, you have feel like you have foot-in-mouth syndrome, unable to clearly express what you mean and instead making generalizations that don’t express what you meant to, or worse, being made fun of. Making friends was hard as a kid, and you probably connected with people older than you much easier. In fact, any kind of connection was difficult to make- you don’t feel close to your siblings or aunts and uncles and the concept of being neighborly has somehow evaded you in your surroundings. It may be easier to get things out in writing, and you probably have a plethora of journals or a personal rant blog. You feel like you’re always on the outside looking in. This has inspired you to always try to be a good friend to others and listen to them. The friends you do have mean the world to you, and you to them. It’s not the end of the world when you accidentally say something ‘wrong,’ and those who matter do hear you and appreciate your creative input.

Chiron in Cancer/4th House: Stomach problems are common here. You never really think you’ve connected with your family. It’s not that they’re bad (although of course there are exceptions), you just can’t seem to bridge the gap and don’t think they’ll ever understand what your feelings really mean. You feel abandoned by them because of this. Even if they’re still ‘here for you,’ still you feel like the black sheep. You feel like a ghost in your own home and often would rather be anywhere else, often making homes out of your friend’s houses or your favorite spot outside to unwind. This wound is such of simple comfort, and you frantically search for a stable place to just call home. Because of this, you are a beacon of comfort to others, as you’ve tried every means of self-soothing. You know what it’s like to feel unwanted, and never let someone else feel that way. Those closest to you have found a comfortable home in you. You’re a shoulder to cry on, a friend that’s always down for anything. Don’t be so afraid to open up, as someone is bound to sympathize and give you that serenity you so long for. Reversely, don’t waste your vast empathy on those who take advantage of it.

Chiron in Leo/5th House: You may have heart or blood trouble. You are immensely creative, but never seem to find the right outlet for it- you’ve tried it all and still can’t seem to express yourself in a way that feels organic. You don’t feel special, and while you were told vaguely that you are as a child, you are the first to say that nobody is that special if everyone is. Your parents may have also told you that you can do anything but that. You hate the spotlight and prefer to stay lowkey, as this as always felt the safest. You were never popular with peers as a kid but connected with adults much easier, as they seemed to have it all figured out. Growing up, you realized that they don’t really, and they’re just kind of winging it. This still astonishes you. Your wound is very personal, that of creating freely, and you prefer instructions so you know you can’t mess things up. That being said, you allow others to be their vibrant selves inhibited. As you have children, you give your kids free reign over their activities, never a helicopter parent. That is if you do decide to reproduce- this placement makes it hard physically or instills fear of parenthood. Don’t forget to fan your own flames as you encourage others the same release.

Chiron in Virgo/6th House: Your hands hurt frequently, and you may be prone to arthritis as well as digestive and nervous problems. Routine is difficult to get yourself into. Work seems like boring, even painful drudgery. You were allowed to do kind of whatever as a kid, never having a strict bedtime or chore list, but rather left to your own devices. You were mature at a young age, or expected to be. Now, you live in extremes. You are extremely on your shit, or in shambles, hardly or never in between. You are a very hard worker still, but your effort always seems to be in vain. Animals are of great comfort to you, and feeding, cleaning, walking and playing with them have helped establish routine as well as a healthy outlet for your need to take care of things. You hate service jobs not necessarily because you dislike others or even doing things for them, but because this is where you are most taken advantage of. You are good at giving advice, however, as you know the intricacies of the given situation and also how far good ol’ elbow grease can go. While every day is a battle, you are there for others before anyone else and always willing to help in any way you can, even if it’s just a few words of guidance. You have woken up today, you will go to bed sometime tonight, and everything will be okay, even if it seems like it never is.

Chiron in Libra/7th house: You likely have lower back or kidney issues. You are painfully insecure and may take this out on others, as relationships are a perilous mountain for you. It’s not that you don’t love others, you just forget or even don’t know how to love yourself, and that’s where a healthy relationship always starts. This is because your personal wound is the other. In finding self love, you can learn how to share it with others. It takes a relationship of any kind with someone who shares your immense love for you to realize that you are worth love, you are love. You care for your friends dearly and help them find love in themselves on your own journey. When a relationship does end, realize that you’re not the only factor in that. The other person is just as at fault at the very least. No matter how many relationships fall through, never let it discourage you when it comes to loving- not only yourself but others, too.

Chiron in Scorpio/8th House: There are issues surrounding the genitalia and sex, as well as any kind of intimacy. You abhor opening up. You’d rather bite back than show weakness, as in being out of control- and being human. This is the wound here- control- and you know all too well that there are seemingly endless outside factors that affect every situation. You were likely well acquainted with trauma at a young age. There was abuse relating with power imbalance in your childhood, and now you always need to be in control. At the same time, you allow your past to haunt you and drive your distrust, even hatred, of change and possibly others, definitely anything unknown, as they are threats until proven otherwise. However, you encourage others to change as frequently as you do, while still knowing where they come from, but not allowing it to control your life as your past does. Learn to release your intense emotions and understand that what’s done is done- you can’t change what has happened to you, but you can control what you do, and allow things to affect you in a positive manner. Learn from the past, don’t simply hate it.

Chiron in Sagittarius/9th House: You often have sore thighs or buttocks. Believing in anything is difficult. You may have been forced into a belief system that was inexplicably upheld, never given a rhyme or reason but still held to those moral standards. Reversely, you weren’t given any reason to believe in anything, especially religion. Higher learning comes with bitter tears. Because you know you were meant for greatness but you still feel that, somehow, you haven’t achieved it, you even find it hard to believe in yourself. Morality is lost on you, and those closest to you may get annoyed that you play by your own rules. Despite this, you inspire others to learn about what they truly believe, to find reason and hope in such and follow their own moral paths. You’re afraid of the answers you can never seem to find. Afraid that you’ll be wrong, afraid they won’t be enough, afraid of the complexity of simplicity and other oxymorons of life. Find your own religion, and continue to go to the beat of your own drummer while keeping in mind the golden rule: treat others the way you want to be treated, and those worth believing in will do the same to you.

Chiron in Capricorn/10th House: You have issues involving your bones, particularly your knees. Your wound is with structure and reassurance. You have experienced a power imbalance much like that of Chiron in Scorpio, but this affects you with a fear that life is just as chaotic and unpredictable as your life seems to be. There’s just -so much- out there that you’re afraid you’ll never find the job for you and respect you deserve. Your public persona is associated with known suffering as you have too firm a grasp on everything you can. Rejection from authority at a young age has you feeling lesser than others. This makes you harshest on yourself. You can be harsh with others, but this is to help them create their own structure. For others, you bring a sense of being a necessary and functioning member of society. You give others the respect, courtesy and dependability you so desperately strive for. Once you learn to accept yourself, flaws and all, you can finally find goals and fulfill them, earning the trust you want so badly.

Chiron in Aquarius/11th House: You likely have problems with your shins and calves. You never feel like you belong to any particular group, and often find yourself shunned. This stunts your vast reservoir of hopes and dreams. You feel like there’s something wrong with you for not being able to fit in. You’ve been openly rejected by friends that you thought were forever, and this has you avoiding close relationships now, especially of brotherhood. While you wind up relieved to be alone, this longing keeps you up at night, but in the crowd you learn to accept and flaunt your eccentricities, as they are the only things keeping you going. Because of the amount of time you spend alone, you have admirable objectivity, though it feels like alienation to you. You need this alone time to realize that everything is fluid and to connect to the universe itself, the only place you can find a sense of belonging. While you feel like you don’t have many friends, the close connections you do form are satisfying to all parties involved and you are the best friend to have, as you know better than anyone what it’s like to be alone and you wouldn’t wish it on someone you do finally find solidarity with. You will find hopes and dreams in the vast void eventually because of this.

Chiron in Pisces/12th house: Constant sore feet, and possibly poor posture. Your wound is with the divine, whom you feel abandoned you. Similar to Chiron in Sagittarius, you have to create your own belief system. Your inner world feels like an empty desert, and you find it hard to connect to your imagination. Your guilt is immense yet you still feel like you’re perpetually alone against the world. This may lead to a victim complex, as this pain seeps into everything and is all-consuming, yet is evasive simultaneously. If you haven’t already, you will realize that this unfairness that is life is simply a part of it, your burden to bear just as everyone has their own, and you will overcome it just as you have every day. You help others with their personal serenity as you search for yours, and give people something to believe in. Don’t fret the pain, as it isn’t a personal attack but rather your lot in life. Your inner chaos is calming to others as they too feel like they’re on the verge of losing it rather often. Allow yourself some alone time, though scary it may be, you will be refreshed afterwards.

All About Chiron

#chiron #all signs #avery #centaurs

2K notes · View notes