#there's so much stigma around anything out of the “ordinary”. there's enough people who will tell you murder is wrong. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

random-yandere-fandom · 3 years ago

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Hey, can I request a Platonic Yandere!Melodias with a child he had with Elizabeth before she died? Sorry if you don't do platonics!

Of course you can! I hope you like it! I don`t have any experience with writing platonic yanderes and before I knew it I had written more than I had planned for the backstory, so... this is all that happens before the main story of Seven Deadly Sins. Btw. I`m gonna assume you meant the first time Elizabeth died.

Platonic yandere Meliodas with his child

So it`s very likely that the first few months you had both, your mother and your father. There was a war raging on but they still somehow managed to drown you in love and affection. Your parents were very protective of you back then, too. You were a hybrid and while many people of Stigma could ignore your demon genes, especially because your mother is Elizabeth, there were still a lot of glares sent your way. Nevertheless you were raised with much care and love.

You were barely a few months old when Elizabeth was murdered and both your parents cursed. Meliodas woke up to your confused cries only to discover Elizabeth’s corpse holding your small body in her arms protectively. How you got there was a mystery, they had made sure that you were safe and secure while they would fight, not only for themselves or peace but for your right to exist. He was devastated, grief washing over him as he had to take you from her, what he assumed, last embrace.

He wandered aimlessly for a while, making sure you were well-fed and in good health, playing with you and hoping that he`d make a good parent. You were his only source of joy and he almost burst into tears when you said your first words, took your first steps or did just about anything. Hide and seek or tag were ordinary pastimes, but your sparkling eyes and joy were contagious and Meliodas found himself enjoying such regularities. When he talked to others he was almost always asking for tips on parenting or where the next food source was. Meliodas never staid long with these people, fearing that they`d somehow harm you. However, he let you play with animals he deemed safe. Should they try anything funny he`ll simply send them a glare, frightening them into obedience.

It was about that time that he met Elizabeth`s first reincarnation. He was carrying you and when you pointed up, babbling and laughing, he followed your gaze to meet hers. Happiness, relief, glee. Those feelings overwhelmed him and before he knew it he tried to hug her with one arm, balancing you on the other. The rejection was harsh, but he managed to stick by her side. Whenever he had doubts that this wasn`t really Elizabeth he would simply watch her play with you, the two of you having naturally bonded in no time and his doubts would disappear. Meliodas and Elizabeth fell in love again and all seemed well.

You grew up well in the warrior tribe your mother belonged to. They treated you well, even though you couldn`t help feeling isolated from them with the way your father would sometimes usher you away from them. But it was fine, you were happy. Meliodas would train you on how to control your powers as well as how to defend yourself while Elizabeth showed you how to distinguish between plants and how to cook. You knew that you had lived off of meals made by your father before but you feared the day that would ever happen again. So you studied how to save any dish, no matter how horrible.

You were a few years older now and you noticed something off about your father. There seemed a sadness to him, one you only understood later on. You were already entrusted with the secret of your mothers rebirth and you had no problem with that, you were simply grateful, happy that you had a close bond with her despite her not remembering your earliest months and I mean, you didn`t either.

When Elizabeth showed signs of regaining her old power both you and Meliodas were elated. Only later did you two realise that it wasn`t a joyful occasion as you watched your mother die in front of you. Before you knew it your father had covered your vision, holding you close as tears streamed from both of your eyes. You were a happy family, so why had your mother died again?

Going back to wandering, you and your father were alone again. He was spoiling you, anything you wanted you got, being showered with affection and praise was the norm. When there was something threatening you, Meliodas took care of it swiftly. Only sometimes would he search for an enemy for you to fight together, though he`d make sure you wouldn`t even be so much as grazed. You wouldn`t get attached to anyone else, leaving the new place before any ties could be made. Your dad made sure that no one would dare to get close to you.

By the time you met your mother’s second reincarnation you were a teenager and it was quite the experience. People would assume you and your father to be siblings and you never stayed long enough to correct them. You couldn`t do that here. No, not if you wanted to have your mother-daughter relationship. So the two of you decided to tell her that the both of you weren`t human, you wouldn`t tell her what exactly you were but yes, Meliodas was in fact your father. And later on yes, you`d love to call her mom.

It didn`t take long for the curse to activate and by the third reincarnation you and your father became aware of its full extend. You had a mental breakdown, damned to watch your mother die over and over again. Meliodas wasn`t feeling any better but he comforted you nonetheless. He never wanted to see you in that state again but he couldn`t bring himself to forbid you and him to seek out Elizabeth. So he promised you that day that you two would never separate, that he`d be by your side forever.

Like this, centuries passed. You would meet your mom, sometimes even as a child, spend some happy years together before she was taken from you again. Your father would always make sure to be there for you but he was hesitant to letting you make any acquaintances. there were only few exceptions to who you could interact with regularly. One would be Merlin who you soon viewed as part of your family, an older sister figure of sorts.

Life was fine, the two of you living with Liz in a small kingdom, Meliodas was a well respected knight and you were his apprentice, going with the story of you two being siblings. Until Fraudrin appeared, at least. He took you by surprise, injuring you and murdering Liz. Your dad went ballistic and the next thing you knew you were in Liones, your mother`s next reincarnation being nothing more than a small child.

From then on you were only allowed to walk around with at least one of the other sins. You weren`t an official member but you accompanied them and occasionally fought alongside them. One of their orders was to never let you get hurt and they followed that one almost religiously unless they wanted their cheerful Capatain to turn livid and everything close by wiped of the face of earth.

When the country turned against you knights and Merlin sealed his powers you just barely managed to get him out of there and into a cave where you met a new companion, the talking and ever hungry Hawk. Planning to reunite with the momentarily disbanded group you opened a tavern, your father in charge of drinks and serving while you cooked, refusing to let anyone taste the hell your father called edible and he didn`t argue, preferring to keep you from those drunkards either way. .

Work starting in the evening and ending late at night, gathering any kind of information before going to sleep and then spending some quality time with your father which included hunting ingredients for various dishes. It was peaceful for a few years but before you knew it you stood across from someone in quite the impressive armor, Meliodas shielding you protectively. Anyway, that`s how you met your mother again.

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prorevenge · 5 years ago

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Bully put me through hell for an entire year I made sure she'll fail all her final exams

Hello! This is my first time posting anything on reddit. Also, English isn't my native language so I might have grammatical errors (but do point them out in comments if you want as I want to better myself in english). I'm also on mobile

So a little back ground. I live in middle east (Iran) and bullying is very rare and unheard of in all girl schools (I don't know about boy schools but I'm sure they have their fights and bullying) we have to go to same gender schools from primary to high school and only in university we sit in both gender classes.

This story goes back to ten years ago when I was 8. My family was poor at that time and we lived in a small town in southern part of the country. My dad was promoted to work in the capital so we packed our stuff and went there and rented a house. I had a thick southern accent and people a decade ago weren't as "woke" as they are now so I was picked on a lot for my accent. Also I was a very very shy girl, barely talked and was a pushover (something I'm still struggling with to this day) but I was very smart. I studied a lot of higher grade books on my own. I LOVED studying with all my heart since there was not much I could do with my free time since we were broke. my teachers always recommend me to skip 1 or 2 grades (for example study second grade in summer and start school at 3rd garde) but I couldn't do so because that summer we decided to move towns and my life was unstable at that moment.

Came the first day of school. I had no friend and didn't know anyone since we just moved in. Everyone were friends with each other because they spent the first grade together. Also I was very tall for my age so I went straight to the the desk at the back of the class to not cause problem for any student. Anyways that's when I met my bully. She was sitting one desk a head of me and when I saw her I IMMEDIATELY got this strange feeling that I should avoid her. It was the strongest gut feeling I've had in my life. Never have I ever met someone and in first glance I thought don't be near them just don't. She didn't have a mean face and wasn't out of ordinary it was just a feeling I couldn't explain. Anyway, teachers come and tell us to all go in the hallway so she can arrange us and tell us what two people should sit on which desk according to our heights. All those seconds I was praying please please please don't let me sit next to her for 9 months. And guess what? We had to share the same desk. Great.

Anyway, it's a blur for me how exactly the bullying started but I guess she figured out I was extremely shy and figured she could have her way with me. She started using my pencils and erasers and then took them for her own. She started stealing my food that my mom packed for me when I wasn't looking and played with the wrapping in front of my face afterwards. Sometimes our teacher let our deskmates to grade us on our dictation exams and I always graded her fairly but I started noticing my grades were becoming lower and lower and my mom was concerned. One time I stood behind her when she was grading me and saw that she's adding dots to my words (our alphabet has a lot of dots like ت چ ق خ) so if we add to them no matter how bizarre they look the teacher will reduce your score. She suddenly turned around as if sensing someone was behind her and when we locked eyes I could see the terror in her eyes. I suddenly grew a spine because she was messing with my grades and I wanted all my grades to be perfect scores so I went and informed the teacher but she just lectured her about her actions and nothing more happened to her.

After that she got more hostile with me. She waited for me on exams to fill the entire paper so she could snatch the exam sheet from my hand and erase my name and put her instead and gave me her paper instead. I tried to get my paper back but she kept pinching my hand and scratching it. I had to answer the entire exam in 15mins or so. She humiliated me in front of her friends and kept telling me how much of a shitty friend I am since I never invited my "best friend" to my house. I wasn't comfortable with it cause we didn't have many furnitures at that time and most of them were old and I knew if I invited her she would tell everyone the next day about our house and I didn't want them to think I have bad parents because we don't have that much money even though my dad and mom were working very hard for me and my older brother to have a better life.

The bullying took a toll on me. I cried myself to sleep most of the nights and made me, someone who enjoyed school and studying, dread the next morning because I didn't want to deal with her yet I'd never informed anyone about it because I felt like I would be a burden to people around me and oddly enough at that time I didn't really want her to get in trouble i felt bad fod her since her parents were divorced (in my country especially a decade ago it was a huge stigma to get divorced hence most couples decided to stay together so they wouldn't be shamed or for the sake of their kids and even if they wanted divorce their parents mostly wouldn't let them since no one wanted their kid to be the black sheep in the family. So you could say having divorced parents especially at that age was very rare). So I decided to deal with her myself and if she kept harassing me I would try to find a way to get out of school. I sometimes made myself puke in the middle of class (I'm SO sorry mrs. Janitor) and was sent home but after a couple times they told me I can't just go home I had a lot of absences. Although it never affected my grades I had perfect score in every subject. The worst of all was when she forced me to walk her home. I refused and told her I don't know this neighborhood since we just moved in a couple months ago but she promised me she would take me back but she left me when we were near her house and expectedly I got lost and couldn't find my way back home. I took some roads but just got more lost and scared and just sat there and cried my eyes out. It was getting darker and at some point a gentleman found me and I told him my building complex and he took me home. My parents were searching for me everywhere on car and my mom was crying and that made me cry even harder. So yeah I was very miserable that year.

Finally, THE REVENGE:

Came the last month of school. my aunt and my mom suggested that I study 3rd grade in summer and start the new school year as a 4th grader since I have the brains and I also was tall so I wouldn't look too small for my grade. I thought to myself I know I'm gonna make it so I'm not gonna be in her class next year. Basically I had nothing to lose. So I waited till the month of final exams. As usual she would sat there (I guess because we were 2nd graders our teacher didn't take it seriously and didn't made us to sit on separate desks so we still sat mext to each other) with a blank exam paper and let me take the exam as usual and snatch the paper when I'm done and I was forced to do the exam again. Little did she know I filled those exam papers will every bullshit that came to my mind I didn't even left 1 correct answer there. I was letting out all my anger from that year on her and I was enjoying every second of it and she was oblivious to all of it since she was sure all answers were correct and never checked the papers. I passed that year with flying colors at the top of my class as usual and she failed every single exam. I never saw her again after the last exam and once school ended I rested for one or two weeks and started studying the 3rd grade. I also passed that grade with perfect scores and started the new year at 4rth grade. It was so liberating to watch the look on my previous classmates when they saw me with 4th grade kids and they kept telling me you got the wrong class and I just told them nope I skipped 3rd grade. As for my bully she wasn't in 3rd grade next year and I heard from someone school refused to sign her up for the next year. Revenge was so sweet for my 8-9 year old self after everything I've endured. I know should've asked an adult for help but I was a shy small town girl that didn't fit in with busy parents and didn't want to burden anyone and thought I could handle it. I had low self esteem for a long time but I got better at handling my problems and not letting people take advantage of me like that.

Edit: spelling

(source) story by (/u/Babyhualian)

#prorevenge #by /u/Babyhualian #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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rosaetae · 5 years ago

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the chrysanthemum effect | 5

[this chapter is apart of the chrysanthemum effect]

☇ “Keeping your flowers, keeping your pain— it’s already everything you need to move on. How do you move on from things if you’re not willing to accept them?“

➣ pairing: taehyung x reader

➣ genre: hanahaki!au, model!taehyung, weddingplanner(ish)!au

➣ word count: 3.9k

➣ summary: the hanahaki disease has become a stigma in this world where if you had it, you are looked down upon. her flowers were white chrysanthemums and they have been for the past two years. she was in love with someone who obviously didn’t feel the same way, and this was her way of moving on— along with the people in her life who had to conform around the hanahaki disease.

That morning, you were leaving your apartment after being awoken to Somin being in a heated discussion with her mother, and you knew it had to deal with the fact that Somin wasn't living up to her mom's expectations of finding someone to settle down with when she moved to the city.

It was rather ironic, you may think, that someone like Somin is being pushed to love when she, herself, thinks nothing of it.

She didn't like commitment as much as the others, and yeah, maybe a white lie to get herself into the city was what she did— but being pushed to find someone and settle down with them is especially odd for her and herself. And there was no way Somin was going to talk about Hoseok to her own mother— it would raise her mother's expectations even more to marry soon.

And it's not like Somin and Hoseok have anything serious going on anyways.

You were leaving your apartment complex, ready to dash out of the building when you stop in your tracks as you open the door.

Taehyung was on the other side, hand outstretched for the handle, only to stagger back a bit by your presence. "Hey."

"Hi," you speak, just as stunned, closing the door behind you. "What are you doing here?"

"Here to walk you to Planetarium," he says with a confidence that makes you raise your eyebrows at him.

Blinking at him as you step outside on the steps to face him. "What?"

"You're going to Planetarium Coffee, right?" He asks, checking the watch on his phone. "I thought we could walk together since it's on the way to my work."

"How'd you know I still live here?"

He pauses before he shrugs slightly. "Just a hunch."

Staring at him, you weren't sure as to why he was in front of the same apartment complex you lived in even when you were with him, let alone right in front of you, and without even asking, volunteers to walk you to the coffee shop you study at. And with that, you don't even know why you nodded your head and agreed.

He seemed rather pleasant that you saved him the embarrassment of 'the two awkward exes that broke up under an open-ended note seeing each other again and walking to the coffee shop together pretending that nothing had happened' and you weren't even asking him why he was doing so as you began your walk, him trailing next to you with his long strides.

"How are you?" You inquire, breaking that awkward ice, the sound of both your footsteps no longer being the main focus of your attention.

Taehyung smiles. "I've been doing alright. Work has been work."

"Has it been too busy for you already?"

"What makes you say that?"

You shrug, hugging your coat closer to your body in reaction to the morning autumn breeze. "Don't know. You're walking with me to get coffee and you usually don't drink coffee until you really need it."

Realizing you let that roll out of your tongue, your eyes drift over to him where you notice a smirk on his lips, but his eyes focusing straight ahead of him.

"Well, just like how you learned how to not to drink coffee, I learned how to drink it constantly," he explains. "But none of that French roast coffee shit. God, that is still terrible no matter how many times I try to set my mentality to endure it."

Snorting, you shook your head. "I may not be able to drink coffee anymore, but I know for a fact that French roast is the shit."

"Mm, I don't know about that. Too bitter for my taste."

"This is coming from the same person who didn't like almonds until you've had it with dark chocolate," you retort. "That's like... the epitome of bitter."

"At least I'm not the person who doesn't like strawberries. Strawberries are the godsend of all berries."

"I have to completely disagree. Raspberries are top tier."

Then, remarkably, there was soft laughter in the air. And it was odd. Having a friendly banter and actually having a decent conversation where it felt too familiar, yet too tense— it was strange and nostalgic, and it was something you didn't want to ruin.

You didn't want to ruin it with a question of closure and assurance because this was a moment you've wanted for so long, this moment of where you can probably move on— why on earth would you want to ruin it with a sake of having closure for him leaving?

"Any plans for today?" He questions, fading off from the banter.

"Just class and work," you answer, as you shrug. "Nothing new."

"Well, I'm walking with you to Planetarium Coffee, that's gotta be something new," he cheekily states, hoping to elicit a laugh or a positive reaction from you, but you end up chewing on the inside of your cheek.

"Taehyung, why are you doing this?"

You felt the asphyxiation overwhelm you as you asked the question— the question that you told yourself not to ask. "You purposely decided to pick me up in front of my apartment— which you probably asked Hoseok if I still lived there— just to walk with me to Planetarium Coffee and you're acting as if you didn't drop everything and leave? And now you're back and I'm supposed to what— pretend that it never happened? What's your plan, here?"

Looking at him was the scary part, because though you were able to look at him two minutes ago, you couldn't now after telling him how you felt.

Surely, you must have thought that this might have been the same way he felt too when he left— the feeling of looking you in your pained and confused eyes was really too painstakingly unbearable to look at. And to form words afterwards? To you? Maybe that's why he left so sudden.

And maybe that's why you didn't say that.

You didn't say anything at all until you get to Planetarium Coffee.

Like you said, you didn't want to ruin it— no matter how strange and how unfitting it may be to see and talk to someone you love who doesn't even feel the same way anymore. There's a part of you that makes you believe that nothing in the past had happened, but you know that if you were to bring it up, you'd have to give up this peculiar feeling of being able to talk to him normally and obliviously.

"What tea do you like?" Taehyung asks, pulling you away from your thoughts. You don't miss the sudden scratch coming from your throat.

He's pulling out his wallet from his back pocket and you bring your hands out to stop him, shaking your head. "No, you're not paying for me."

Taehyung laughs, walking over to stand behind someone in line. "And why not?"

"Because I can pay for myself," you rose an eyebrow at him. Why did he want to buy you a drink? Even when you were both together, you wouldn't let him buy you anything without you paying it back.

"Fine," you watch him back off, knowing that if he insisted on paying, it would lead to an argument that he didn't want to get himself into. "Only if you tell me what your favorite drink is here."

"Will you let me order first?"

He narrows his eyes, knowing that you caught him in his act where he was going to pay for you and not let you know. You gave him a look, to which he lets out a defeated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Be my guest."

Smiling victoriously, you move in front of him. "I don't usually order tea from here, if I'm being honest," you say, causing Taehyung to scrunch his eyebrows together. "I buy their scones. Handmade from heaven."

You turn over to see the open register, the welcoming face of the 9 AM Tuesday barista you knew as Woori. She can immediately guess what you were going to buy: a lemon poppyseed scone, and with that, you pay for it and walk over to your designated table next to the window.

Taehyung, after ordering and shoving his card into his wallet, finally sits in front of as you were already in the midst of going over your notes for anatomy.

"What did you order?" You ask, stopping midway.

"I've been trying to broaden my horizons," he smirks at you. "I got their rose latte? But I asked for an extra shot."

You nearly gasp at the sound of that. "And an extra shot, too? You really are a coffee drinker."

"And you seemingly are not," he chuckles lowly. "Tea, neither. What's going on?"

To that, you shrug, as if it was just a weird revelation where caffeine doesn't do much good— realistically, coffee doesn't do much good for you or your flowers.

"Just didn't need it anymore," you reply. "As for you, what made you like coffee so much?"

He lets out a low chuckle. "Unlike you, I started to need it. Like, tonight. I'm heading to Montreal for the weekend for a shoot and my flight leaves at 2 AM."

You raise your eyebrows at that. "Wow, Montreal? You're already traveling."

"Not that big of a deal. I have to come back on Monday for another shoot so I won't be able to see much of Montreal as I'd like to."

"Bummer," you say, meeting his eyes. "Well, I hope you can go there one day and explore much of it as you'd like. I heard it's beautiful there."

"Yeah," he nods in agreement, looking at you in a way where it made you feel uneasy. Uneasy and nostalgic. As if you knew the look he gave you. "Yeah, it is."

Eunmi was already in the midst of planning Annie and Jungkook's super private wedding when she scheduled an appointment for you to meet with them. She said she was going to tend to some venues for another husband and wife to be that day, but she apparently entrusted you enough to execute her own thoughts on behalf to Annie and Jungkook.

It was nothing out of the ordinary, but you generally hated these type of appointments when Eunmi isn't present. And needless to say, you were biased because you were interviewing Jeon Jungkook.

That morning, you were not greeted by the unfaithful presence Taehyung outside of your apartment complex due to his trip in Montreal, meaning you got to go to Planetarium and finish some homework without being distracted.

As you enter the general building of your work, Yuna smiles. "Oh, ___! Mr. Jeon Jungkook is outside the office."

Throwing her a thumbs up in acknowledgement, you take the usual route up the office, passing by the many desks before you stop in your tracks to see who was in the waiting room outside Eunmi's office. Jungkook sits outside the office, arm propped on the arm chair as he observes the cloudy weather outside the big window next to him.

You nearly did a double take as it was strange to see someone that you barely know but almost know entirely of. Someone who's known by every teenage girl through his platform and someone who's been loved by a single girl through the sporadic whirlwind of the universe that brought them together.

Taking in a deep breath, you approach him slowly, clearing your throat in which he looks up, a subtle baffled look before giving a small stranger-friendly smile in return.

"Hi, Mr. Jeon Jungkook, right?" You ask as he nods. "I'm ___, Eunmi's assistant and on behalf of us, I'm sorry that she can't make it to this appointment—"

"Oh, no worries," he chuckles softly as he stands up, holding out his hand for you to shake. "I apologize, too. Annie's supposed to be here with me, but I guess I'm going solo on this whole wedding ordeal," he laughs, and admittedly, it pains you.

Maybe you're weak for feeling hurt for someone else, but the image of Minji in your head made it hard for you to even spare a smile at Jungkook.

"I guess we both are going solo today," you state before you open the door. "Come in."

You stroll over to your desk, sitting down and Jungkook following suit and sitting in front of you.

"So, Eunmi gave me a list of things she wanted me to discuss with you, and working with her for awhile, I'm going to try my best to express her thoughts on certain things," you say, gathering your files and clearing your throat. "So, I noticed that you've got the venue set up," you state. "You called them and booked them and everything, right?"

He nods as you highlight the check point on the document. "Do we know where the reception will be held at?"

"From what I know, Annie just wants it at the same venue."

"Okay," you type, putting a note to call the venue to follow that up. "Do we know if they cater?"

"They don't, but Annie has these list of caterers that she gave me, but I kind of lost them," Jungkook says with a tinge of embarrassment at how disorganized he was making himself out to be.

"That's fine," you say with a nod, reaching over to your side and grabbing a pamphlet. "These are some of Eunmi's recommended caterers for such venues that don't cater themselves. You can look over at them with Annie when you get the chance and then when you make another appointment, you guys can tell Eunmi which caterer you'd like to have at your wedding." Jungkook takes the pamphlet from you as you begin to type on your laptop. "How about any decorations for the reception? Do we know if we're doing a huge long table for the guests or individual tables with designated seating...?"

Jungkook blankly stares at you with a look of uncertainty, causing you to laugh as you realize that you were going on and on about something he was probably solely lost on and your words just sounded like jumbled gibberish through his ears.

"Sorry," you chuckle lightly, leaning back into your chair. "Here, about this. Eunmi wrote down here that Annie wanted... blue poppies."

You don't miss the way his eyes flicker from your laptop to your eyes at almost the rate of light.

"Yeah, blue poppies," he agrees, interlocking his hands over his lap. "They're her favorites."

In the corner of your eyes, you see him spacing out, and you wonder if he was thinking about Minji— the same girl that ended up throwing up the same flowers that happened to be Annie's favorites.

"They're beautiful," you note, looking at him before he winces slightly and looks at you. "I hope you don't mind if I ask why blue poppies?"

Jungkook, being courteous and shaking his head, sits up in his chair. "Blue poppies was a song I originally wrote, but it never really got released. She listened to it and ever since then, blue poppies were her favorites."

You bite your bottom your lip, trying desperately to push back the thought of asking what the song was about— or rather, who. It was instance that would break this conversation entirely.

Feigning a smile, you nod your head slowly.

"Well, they're lovely," you tell him as he nods.

"Yeah," he agrees after a mere pause. "They are. Sorry, my mind's not in the game, right now."

"Pre-wedding stress?"

He scoffs lightly. "You could say that."

You nod, your lips curling up in amusement.

"Actually," Jungkook speaks up, causing your ears to perk up. "I've been meaning to ask... aren't you friends with Taehyung?"

Your heart stops for a mere second. "You could say that."

He smiles at your response. "Taehyung and I used to go to high school together," he explains.

"Oh, really?" Eyebrows raising, you let out a tight laugh. "What a small world."

"You dated him, didn't you?" He asks suddenly, you looking at him from your lashes.

Pausing, you nod once again, a sheepish laugh eliciting from your mouth. "I did, yeah," you tell him truthfully.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"It's alright."

"I didn't recognize you until the name matched your face. You're the one that bites your ice cream, right?" He laughs in a friendly matter. You were almost taken aback by that sudden fact he knew about you that you smile at him.

"I do, yeah," your lips curl upwards. "I'm guessing he talked about me?"

"All the time," he nods, laughing lightheartedly. "All good things."

"Until they stopped?"

He doesn't say anything. Realizing what you said, you let out an embarrassed laugh.

"Sorry," you mutter. "That was a debby-downer. Are you making the list for the guests, or is Annie?"

"Annie," he answers, fiddling with his thumbs. You nod, moving on to create a new guest list and labeling it for Jungkook and Annie's wedding, the sound of clicking and typing being the only thing you focused on. That was until he spoke up again.

"He didn't want to leave you, you know."

You fingers stop, hovering over the keyboard. Meeting his eyes slowly, there was this look in his eyes that you couldn't quite touch upon. It was almost sympathetic.

"All of the things that I've heard from him about you were only ever good things," he continues, trying to reassure you before you could even react. "I didn't think you guys would ever reach an end until one night he calls me at an airport and tells me about the hardest decision he had to make."

Speechless was an understatement. Really, you were at a total loss for words. What do you say to someone that you barely knew but knows you from afar?

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, sincerely. "I just believe that... you deserve at least some sort of explanation, you know and...."

You almost had to laugh. How hypocritical of him to say that when perhaps he should have said that to the girl who, now, lost all memory of him— all the unconditional, painful love and wonderful memories of him.

"And I know, he's back and everything which might be the most chaotic thing in your life right now—"

"It's fine," you immediately cut him off. You didn't want to hear anymore of it. "With all due respect, Mr. Jeon, my relationship with Taehyung is none of your business and I'm entirely sure you're paying my boss and I by the hour to talk about your relationship, not mine."

Jungkook chews on the inside of his cheek, knowing that you were presumably irked. "You're right. Can I ask you one more thing?" He asks instead. You rose an eyebrow, only to give in, giving him a slight upwards nod of your chin. "Do you still have your flowers?"

Instant regret. "Excuse me?"

"Hanahaki?" He asks before he swipes his thumb across his nose, knowing very well that he was treading dangerous waters.

"What even made you think I had Hanahaki?" You shake your head, immediately growing defensive.

"My intention wasn't meant to be rude," he begins, rather calmly. "You probably don't remember, but two years ago, at Hoseok's after party, I found you in the bathroom, and you threw up flowers."

You stare, your heart beating too loudly. That night was already blurry enough— you just remember yelling, blaming, screaming at yourself for being so utterly foolish for being in love with someone who doesn't feel the same anymore, and now there you were— here you are— paying the price.

"Don't worry, I haven't told a soul," he speaks up. "Since it's not my story to tell— but after all these years, I didn't think I'd run into you again, planning my wedding. Bizarre is an understatement," he chuckles with an odd warmth, as if he was an old friend reminiscing of the good times when really, his first impression of you was at your weakest.

"You were at that party?" You question, pursing your lips together. "That night?"

"Surely you know that I'm also friends with Hoseok. But unfortunately, yes, I was at that party and I did happen to come across you that night. Someone was already holding your hair back." Jungkook stares at you intently. "Do you still have them?"

Staring at him, you thought of all the ways you could avoid answering. From moving on with the wedding to mentioning Minji, you were creating fabricated scenarios that you wished would help you disappear from the atmosphere that became too suffocating.

Instead, you shake your head, looking down at your keyboard, creating a new format on the document. "No," you answer blandly. "You must have saw something different. The breakup was mutual."

It wasn't because you're ashamed that you couldn't tell him that you still had your flowers— even after two long fucking years, you still had it. It wasn't that you couldn't admit to him that you had it in the first place— of course not.

It was because you didn't owe him that story of your flowers. Call yourself selfish and irrational, but it wasn't like you were asking about Minji and how you found her that night throwing up the same flowers that will be on his wedding centerpiece, his aisle decorations, and his fiancé's bouquet.

After all, the story of your chrysanthemums was yours to tell.

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anshiva · 6 years ago

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DIABOLIK LOVERS Eternal Blood Vol.1 Mukami Ruki Translation

Finally! I finished this drama. Sorry that it took so long. All tracks you can listen here.

Track 1. At the market Ruki: Hey! Hey! Do you hear me? *you ran up to him* You didn’t hear me calling you a few times... You haven't changed a bit. You have a lot of nerve to look at someone except me. Do you still not realize that you belong to me? Or you know who you belong to and act recklessly just to drag my attention? Ruki: Good grief, I could understand that all these fresh foods here attracts your eye, but you must know our current situation. I betrayed Karlheinz-sama and took you away. And I don’t regret it, but there is no guarantee that his pursuers won’t reach us someday. Since we left Japan we have so many times move from one country to another, but fortunately nothing had happened. However how stupid you may be, you should know if you get lost that would be the end. It might be too late if something happens. But we at the market. If you will follow me without getting lost, I could come with you where you want. Ruki: But first do what we has to do. Do you remember why we came here? That’s right. We here to buy food. We can’t come here so often. We need to buy food for few days.

Ruki: So? Have you already decided what to make for dinner tonight? Ruki: Just as I suspected. You planned to nail down today’s dinner while looking at products at the market, I suppose? Ruki: Heh... If I leave this to you, we will wander here till nightfall. When we lived in mansion vegetables raised by Yuma were fresh and tasty. And compare to them vegetables here are inferior quality, but good enough to eat. Also there are few preservation methods. Ruki: Combine this and this and we’ll get a salad. If we boil down this and then preserve it, and will be preserved for a several days. And this is your favorite, right? If it's your favorite product, then it's worth to make a dish. Even in meat and seafood not of good quality you can bring out the good taste. First, what do you want for supper tonight? If you have already decided, then choose. Ruki: If you want seafood, then it’s over there. Good. Let's go and take a look. *approaching the fish section* [03:36] Ruki: Apparently, all fresh fish are collected here. With such a big choice of varieties you probably already came up with some kind of menu, right? Ruki: There are many ways to cook fish. Since we are in a foreign country, we can try a local recipe... Although I can’t call the local cuisine delicious. It will be much better if you decide for yourself what to cook. Ruki: And what bothers you? Did you really think that you are worse at cooking than me? Ruki: I understand that you are trying to satisfy me not only with the blood that flows in your body. Watching you do things for me is not so bad. Ruki: Hmm... And? What will you cook? Ruki: Who are you planning to cook for? Only he will be pleased with the Vongole Bianco. And that's all that came into your stupid head? It can’t be helped. If you want to cook Vongole Bianco so much, I'll eat a Kou’s portion. Ruki: Even so it’s Kou’s favorite dish, but since we started moving from country to country, I started liking it. Ruki: You want to be useful, you say? I see the training gives results, but still have a lot of work. You are useful because you satisfy your master's appetite. Ruki: You're glad that I appreciate not only your blood? Ruki: If you think so, then remember my tastes. Ruki: Anyway, it's getting crowded around here. If something happens, there will be problems. We’ll go where you want in next time. Ruki: Do you know that besides Sakamaki and Mukami there are other vampires in this world? I don’t know when and where these vampires, who want your blood, can appear and catch us off guard. Ruki: Recently someone mixed with the crowd and now looking at us. Perhaps he is following us. Apparently, he is a vampire who is hiding in this country. Ruki: You didn’t notice it? I never thought you still so thick-skinned. Ruki: Your blood attracts many guys. If you don’t want to be attacked, then stay close to me. We can’t relax until we found out what trap is prepared for us. Let’s finish with shopping, the rest of the products we’ll buy elsewhere. *walks away* [07:25] Ruki: With this amount of products we won’t be needed to go to the store for a long time. Ruki: M? Everyone’s in such a hurry. Ah, I see. It’s that time already? Ruki: I heard that there is a holiday in this country, when the New Year is celebrated on a large scale. Everyone is profusely decorating the streets and perhaps preparing for tomorow’s parade. It seems that on the day when they celebrate the New Year, they launch a grand countdown-fireworks, and a parade starts with dancing. Ruki: It sounds fun, you say? In my opinion, when cheerful people overcrowd the bright shops, it’s give only irritation. Even if the next year came, it’ll not be different from the previous one. Knock oneself out trying to celebrate it so stupid. Ruki: Do you really want to celebrate the end of the year just like all these people? Ruki: Even if you deny it, I know that you want. In truth, you are envious of their peaceful life, right? No matter how much you envy, happiness won’t come. I... can not give you... the ordinary human happiness. That day, I decided to take you away. But the one who took the outstretched hand was you. Ruki: You must understand there's no going back. And yet, every time you see people, you relive happy days and wish to return to your previous life, right? Apparently, taste once you can't forget it. Ruki: Hmm... Even if you deceiving me, I'll know right off the bat. If you think you can keep secrets from your master, then, perhaps, you lack discipline. Ruki: What happened? When you heard the word "discipline" your bite marks, that are hidden under your clothes, started aching? Do you want me to punish you right here? It's written right on your face. Am I wrong? If you want to say something, then speak directly. Ruki: Oh... Rain? Eh... It's started to rain. Come here. *goes away* [11:03] Ruki: Ah... Here we can wait out the rain. Hm? Maybe you get closer to me? You will get wet. Ruki: Eh... You're soaked to the skin. In this situation you probably will get sick for a long time. You’re trembling for a while and say nothing because you don’t want to disturb me? I approve that you think about your master... *give a hug* but if we’ll embrace each other, it will become a little better. It would be problematic if your condition worsens. You're pretty cold. Ruki: Don’t lie to me. Didn’t I say that I see everything? You are still trembling. Besides, your face turned pale. Ruki: No matter how much I embrace you, nothing will change. I can’t warm you up. Ruki: What's the point of pretending when you're trembling all over? After all, vampires and humans... Or rather we live in two different worlds. Track 2. Soul and body that can’t warm up *came home* Ruki: If you do nothing, then you can catch a cold. Before you lay out the food, wipe the body. Ruki: Now, probably, it will be better to change clothes. *took off his clothes* Ruki: Huh? Why are you so nervous? And this is after you are already used to the sight of my body? Ruki: Come on. Can you undress faster? Your body temperature drops. Ah, clothes stuck to skin and it’s difficult for you to undress yourself? In that case, I can help you. Ruki: Just wiping the body won’t change anything, right? I thought you'd better change your clothes, but ... Eh, forget it. I'll take a towel. Ruki: Because taking care of your health is also the responsibility of your master. I do not want your blood to go bad because of a cold. Wait a minute. *walks away* Ruki: Huh? I told you to wait, but you came here? Here you are. Hm? Hey, what's wrong? Ruki: Your eyes said more than your words. We'll talk a little over there. [02:10] *wipes* Ruki: So? What are you trying to hide from me? That's exactly like you. When you saw my wounds on my back what were you thinking about? Ruki: Do not pretend. While they are still with me, I can’t escape from my hateful past. Although I tried to become free, but I was not allowed to. Ruki: I lived just to take revenge on this world, which took everything from me. But when I met you, I finally managed to deal with myself. Because you tried to understand me. And as a result, I took you with me. And I don’t regret it. I overcame my past, which remained as a stigma, because you were by my side. Ruki: There you go again? The only angel here is you. *flip over* Ruki: I'm close? You looked at me with hungry look and now your mouth immediately begins to lie. Ruki: Do not worry, I won’t bite your neck yet. Hmm, unless you want to. Ruki: Do you really want me to touch other places? Then entrust your body to me. Ruki: Even your cheeks are cold. And ears. And fingers. Your cold is passed on to me. Ruki: But the heat comes only from the neck. When I started to touch you, did you start to get warm? Ruki: Don’t worry that I'm going to get wet. *you trying to get up* Wait. *grabbed your hand and threw down* I'll wipe your body like this. We do not need to move away from each other, right? Ruki: Yes, turn your back on me. Ah... *wipes* Ruki: What? Ruki: If you want me to touch you more, then I can wipe other places. If there is a place where you want me to touch, then tell me. Ruki: What? Do not be shy and say... Ruki: Did you sneeze? Still, just wiping you won’t get warm. I'll take care of the food, and you go dressing up in the room. Ruki: Who do you think will look after you if you get sick? If you understood, then go quickly. *you walks away* Ruki: She left... Eh... It was me who took her and brought here. I understand how this sin is terrible, but I won’t part with her anymore. We began to live together, and again I made sure that we live in completely different worlds. With a vampire body that can’t warm, when I embrace her, I can’t give ordinary human happiness. Track 3. What these hands can give. *turn pages* Ruki: Huh? What happened? Still can’t sleep? Ruki: Hah, this? I've got in the habit of reading before sleep, so I don’t need to hurry with reading. Besides, I just finished the chapter. *closed the book* I told you to go to sleep without me, but you've been waiting for me all this time. To take care of your master - this is a beautiful intention, but let's go to sleep. Give me a hand. *took the hand* Ruki: Sleeping holding hands has become the norm. I can’t live without you anymore. I couldn’t even imagine that one day the touch of your hand would made me easy. Ruki: If you can’t live without me either, then open your heart more to me. Do not you dare hide anything from me. Since you saw the decorated streets, you behave strangely. At that time it attracted your attention and you avoided the conversation, but, in truth, you were envious of the New Year's parade, right? Ruki: I already told you, don’t even think about deceiving me. *Kissed* Ruki: Since you're not going to be honest about your thoughts, I won’t give you anything else. *blows in the ear* Ruki: By the way, you liked it when I left kiss mark here. If you have secrets from me, then I will stop doing that. Ruki: What happened? You're shaking so much. Just recently you was freezing, but now your body is burning. You are definitely not cold. Ruki: I completely control you. I perfectly know where you want me to touch, and where you want me to sink my fangs. *pet you* Ruki: It tickles? If you don’t tell me, I'll continue to tickle. Ruki: Hmm... You obey your master, as befits a pet. In that case, I will give you a reward that you want. *kisses* [03:20] Ruki: I knew it. It was written on your face from the very beginning. Why didn’t you just say that you want to celebrate the New Year with me? Ruki: I didn’t say that I don’t want to. It's just that we think differently. Ruki: Ah... Vampires are immortal. I have lived this way for many years. Perhaps this is the reason. The present me have no desire to celebrate the New Year. I'm a cunning serpent who seduced and kidnapped you. If you didn’t go with me, you could celebrate the holidays in a cozy circle of friends, you would get the warmth that will warm the frozen body... You could get it all. But, even though I understand that, I can’t let you go. I’m astonished with my greed. *you embraced him* Ruki: You suddenly clinging onto me... What happened? Ruki: You speak nonsense. But your presence helps me. Ruki: If you need me, from now on I will embrace you like this. From the top to the tips of your toes... No, to the last drop of your blood you belong to me. Do not forget about it. Ruki: Did you want to meet the New Year with me? I spent the whole year with you. Сome to think of it, there is nothing wrong with that. Let's have a little New Year party? Ruki: Yes. I don’t mind if that become our memory. Moreover, this is the only thing I can give to you. What I want most is eliminate the differences between us a little. So that you stay close to me. Ruki: Tomorrow we'll go outside too. Ruki: Yes. We need to prepare for the party. Since we celebrate the New Year, we need to celebrate it properly, right? Ruki: Hmm, if you have any questions, then ask right away. Ruki: By the way... today I haven’t received your blood yet. As a reward for your frankness today, I'll drink where you want. Although I understand everything without words. Your favorite place is here. Ruki: Ah, come to think of it, if your body freezes, can I warm you up? Ruki: No, nothing. Probably you are glad when I drink your a blood, as well as the fangs, piercing your flesh. Your body warms up in my arms. Ruki: I'll start from the neck, as you wish. *bites and drinks blood* Ruki: Do you really want my fangs so badly? It's written on your face. Do you want me to drink more? Then you know what you should do, right? Come on, tell me what you want. Ruki: Hah, good girl. Give me the blood that flows inside you. *bites and drinks blood* Ruki: Yet your blood is delicious. Only my special blood. I want more. But if I drink more, tomorrow you will feel bad. Ruki: We'll be asleep. If tomorrow you wake up later then me, I will punish you. Ruki: What? Do you really want to be punished? If you want to attract the attention of your master, you don't need to get up late. Track 4. The approaching shadow *steps* Ruki: Of course, I thought it might have been like this, but why the end of the year should be so noisy? Whatever. In this crowd we would hardly be noticed by our pursuers. Besides, there are a bunch of different shops here, you can find everything you need. Do you want anything? Ruki: Looks like you think I'm a heartless bastard. Today is a special day. Today everything is possible. Ruki: Yes, you can. Also, yesterday we didn’t go where you want. We can look at any store you want. Ruki: Do you want candles? Well, let's go look for a store. *walks away* [01:21] Ruki: Here we’ll probably find what we need. That... can it be lighted like this? They are in glass cups, if we decorate the room with them, they’ll please the eyes. It seems that there are also flavored here. Perhaps they are suitable for the dinner table. *took a candle* Ruki: This candle have nice color and shape, pretty ordinary. Ruki: Yes, if we take care of food, it will be good. Let's do it. [02:13] Ruki: Of course, I said that we can look at any store you want, but you're so restless. Do not get lost in the crowd. Ruki: What did you see there that you even forgot about me? Ruki: Ah... This? Do you miss collar and chains so much? Ruki: What are you fuss about? If you want, I can buy it. You probably want me to control you, order you and play with you? Sometimes it's nice to spice things up. This choker fits perfectly to your neck. If you don’t mind, we need to find a suitable chain for it. Ruki: Hmm, what did you imagine? If you want me to play with you, as I did before, then tell me directly about it. I will leave red collar marks as proof that you belong to me, and then every night I’ll kiss them. Do you like it when the scratches on the skin stinging from pain? Ruki: That skin shouldn’t have forgotten those feelings. Somewhere deep down inside you want this? Ruki: It's a rare opportunity. Maybe you try it on? We can check if it fits your neck. Ruki: Hah, don't make such a face. I was joking. I know that you will near me even without a collar. You can keep yearning for those times, but if there is something suitable for you, I'll buy it. [04:43] *steps* Ruki: The sun went down. Time to go home. Ruki: No, I said that this time you can look around. You do not need to apologize. There are much more people on this street than when we came here yesterday. Perhaps it's because today everyone is preparing for the New Year. Ruki: So? Do you want to see the fireworks, too? Ruki: Oh, caring about your master? Very clever. If you are so obedient, then I will take your hand. *took the hand* [05:50] *steps* Ruki: Stay. Something’s wrong. Ruki: I knew that someone was following us. Run! *you ran* Ruki: Over here! *dropped the bag* Forget about the bag! Run, stay focused! *run away* [06:33] Ruki: The bats. Shit! Are they following us? Here! Run into the alley! *run away* Ruki: They’re so persistant. Who sent them? It can't be! Is that him?! In this case, it's no surprise that they are following us. We can’t get rid of them so easily. Listen here, listen carefully. If they find us, hide behind me. Ruki: If this is a punishment for kidnapping Eve, I'm ready to accept it. I didn’t forget that I owe you, but ... *the bats are attacking, Ruki beating the bats* Ruki: Whatever happens, I won’t let you harm Eve. Even though I betrayed you, but I decided to live with her. Ha! *hit the bat* Ruki: I won’t give her to you! Hn! *hit the hat* Ruki: They flew away. Don’t worry. I'm not so weak that I can’t deal with them. Besides, the fact that I was able to deal with these familiars means that they are not from him. Have they been sent by another vampire? I recently said that vampires are hiding in this country. Apparently, we invaded their territory. But since they retreated, then it was just a warning. Probably, they won’t pursue us anymore. I'm sorry I frightened you. I was going to be extremely careful, but I put you in danger. And we lost what we bought. Ruki: These familiars didn’t cause any problems, but if they really were his servants, I couldn’t protect you. I betrayed him and one day I will take full responsibility for that. Ruki: The nightmares of my past won’t disappear. And I can’t wash the sin I’ve done. Wherever I go, there's nowhere to hide from it. *embraced you* Ruki: Even when I embrace you, I have no right to hold you. In the end, something always shackles me. Since I was kid, I was even forbidden to run around in the sun. The dark ceiling in the orphanage... The nights that I spend as vampire... That's what I deserve. *you take his hand and drag with you* Ruki: Hey, why are you all of a sudden? Where are we going? Track 5. Light illuminating a dark night Ruki: You suddenly grabbed my arm and ran ... Why are we here? Do you have any business here? Ruki: What? *Fireworks* Fireworks ... Ruki: A glowing flower that blooms at night. You decided to comfort me with congratulations? Ruki: I told you that I fed up with your hypocrisy. Have you forgotten? Ruki: Today I will make an exception and accept your care. Come to me. We'll look at the ceremony together. Ruki: Beautiful shine. Freely, brightly lights up in the middle of the night. No matter how much time passes, you’ll always be mine. *kissed* Ruki: The light, launching into the night sky, look like a wings of an angel. The rays of light are spilled on the night sky all the time. Ruki: No matter how long the endless night lasts, if there is a weak ray of light, then it won’t disappear. Even stay by my side, you are a light to me, that not tethered to anything. And I'll never want to let you go. I will reach out to you, to the light, my hand and carve on you the proof that you will always be near me. Ruki: When the year comes to an end, in this suitable place, first thing I will drink your blood. And you can feel free to watch the night sky. *bites and drinks blood* Ruki: What? Are you worried about me? When I touch your skin, I feel your warmth. It's like you wanting me with your whole body. Your ears, cheeks, fingertips are warm. This neck, which illuminates by shine launced in the night sky, is also warm. *bites and drinks blood* Ruki: Hah, it became more delicious than before. I will continue to desire this blood and you. Because while you are near, I also feel the light. Ruki: The new year begins. From now on, stay close to me.

#diabolik lovers #eternal blood #translation #cd drama #ruki

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bros-before-ghosts · 5 years ago

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I'm back!! Half the reason I got into Supernatural was all the references to Dean/Cas too and the other half was a friend telling me about it and fangirling over Destiel and I wanted to know more so I started watching spn when she was at season 4 and when I finally got to 4 I didn't really find evidence of a great love story. It was rather disappointing because I was expecting this great love story and I got two people barely being friendly half the time and the other half acting like family 1/4

I somehow found myself shipping Destiel for those moments and reading fanfics. I live in the countryside so people are conservative here too so of course the first hint of something out of the ordinary was new to me, especially the possibility of a gay relationship in such a popular series (flashbacks to that bio teacher who said being gay is a sin and a disease) so of course I wanted to know more as well. And somewhere in my mind there was Sam and Dean with their stupid connection and their 2/4

Their stupid devotion to each other and their stupid chemistry and I tried so freaking hard not to think about it too much. And I'm sorry but I find the fact that you're from Alabama funny as fuck. The universe has funny ways of working. And trust me I get it, I tried so hard to not think about Sam/Dean because of stigma and taboo and stuff. And I still kinda ship Destiel (and one of the reasons I love your blog is that you don't judge or throw shade or hate on other characters or ships) but 3/4

I realized I also kinda ship Sam/Dean. Like, they'd do anything for each other. Dean freaking sold his soul for Sam and they always find each other no matter what. Like yea, that's pretty much love - be it platonic or romantic, they freaking love each other. I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW I SHIP THEM OKAY?! Honestly, thank you so much. Thank you for your support, I needed to hear (read) this. Also did I mention I love your blog? Because I fucking love it! And I hope you don't mind this long af ask 4/4

Hey nonnie! Welcome back! Never apologize for asks! I know I’ve said it a billion times in my tags but I am a SLUT for asks. And thank you for reaching out again! Now I don’t feel so alone with my “started for the destiel, staying for the brother-loving” thing lol. And yeah, like you said, no hate here for ANY ships. I hope people feel free enough to ship whatever makes their heart skip and their panties melt. Because as many many people have said in more eloquent ways than I, ITS NOT REAL. do I think incest is hot diggity dog in real life? Absolutely not! I work at a job where I’ve seen literal horror stories of incest victims. But it’s kind of my weakness in ships. I can separate it out bc I know the difference in fiction and real life! I wish so many other people could learn to separate real life and fiction so that the shame around ships could please PLEASE die already. again I say: NEVER LET ANYONE MAKE YOU FEEL SHAME OVER SHIPS! Especially a gross bio teacher that probs jerks it to more gay porn than I do (which is saying a lot)

But anywho, as much as I really really tried with dean and cas, their relationship will never be what Sam and Dean have to me. I keep them tucked into a dark corner of my heart for protection so I love it when anyone comes to talk about it. I’m so glad you feel comfortable enough with wincest to reach out and start conversations! I hope you continue to feel like this is a safe and inclusive environment! No matter what level you ship them at, if you even ship them at all, just know that this wincest shipper loves ya <3

#anon #ask #OMG THANK YOU FOR YOUR KIND WORDS #i love you i love you i love you #seriously #this made my heart all mushy #i had to keep this little love letter to myself for a bit #(at least im calling it a love letter)#so sorry for taking so long to answer #anywaysss #love ya 😘#moe mumbles

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ellis-reviews · 6 years ago

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Fallocaust by Quil Carter

What the fuck did I just read?

Okay, let’s talk about Fallocaust. The first thing I can say about it, is that I don’t want to say that I enjoyed it, but I did.

Maybe “enjoyed” is the wrong word to use though. I found the book very interesting, despite all its flaws and it’s dubious themes.

First of all, the writing of the book could use some work, to be honest. It’s has come to my attention though, that it was a self-publishing and that the author didn’t have an editor, which makes me pretty impressed. The book is long, so even if he has read through it three times, he’s bound to miss a few mistakes. Maybe it had a bit more than a “few”, but it didn’t actually bother me that much. The sentences were written nicely enough.

Over to the content though.

Boy. Where do I even begin?

This book was a lot. I mean, in the first couple of pages you’re introduced to a world where cannibalism is an everyday-thing. And I mean, with the world we’re presented with, it makes sense.

Maybe some scenes were more descriptive than strictly necessary, but it’s categorized with “dark” for a reason I guess.

There’s also a lot of drug use in the book, which for me honestly wasn’t a big issue. Again, the author made it fit into the world. It was ordinary, another everyday thing.

To the part that did bother me though: all the rape scenes. Yes, that was plural.

I think those were the most shocking to me, and I don’t know if it’s because it’s such a taboo-subject that whenever it’s mentioned my skin literately crawls, or because of the actual description.

Again, this is a “dark” book, and I’ve actually read a few other books describing rape scenes. It never sits well with me, but then again, that’s kind of the point, I think.

Now, there’s always those people who yell about how unnecessary it is to add those. “Just mention it, don’t show it!”

From a writers point of view though, that’s opposite of what we are learned. The first things we learn is: show it, don’t tell it. Which does makes sense.

Those scenes are horrible and uncomfortable, which I’m guessing is the authors point. It’s not a good thing, it’s not a good moment. You’re feeling the pain with the character, which is what you do with them anyway — just not usually with that kind of heavy themes.

On another hand though, we have the characters and the world.

I found the world really fascinating, as well as the character. The world in this book is dark and sinister, probably one of the darkest I’ve ever read about, but I also think that’s why I found it so interesting. This wasn’t a world I had experienced before, despite being an avid post-apocalyptic reader.

Because of the stigma around these themes though, it’s hard to say whether the author went too far or not. I haven’t read enough about them to form a line that can be crossed, but at the same time it’s scary to say anything because of the stigma around it.

And really, all the gore and whatnot left me feeling uneasy — but which also felt right with the theme of the book. It wasn’t a world where you felt warm and cozy reading it (though it did have its moments there too), you felt anxious and little sick.

The characters were also super interesting, I will say. Of course, people love different people, and I had a few I found annoying as fuck, and some I felt I never saw enough of, but that’s life. And you’re not supposed to like all characters either.

What I will say regarding the characters though, is that they’ll give you whiplash. You’re constantly torn between loving, liking and hating them. And I mean all of them.

In the end they are all very flawed and broken people, who’re doing their best. And I liked that.

Now, I know I shouldn’t leave on a bad note, but my criticism didn’t fit in anywhere else.

The jumping, or time-skips, or whatever you wanna call it.

This is probably a preference thing, but I’ll leave it here anyway. You know when you read the whole book through a character (or characters, but like it’s the same characters all the time) and all of a sudden a new characters point of view comes? Yeah, I fucking loath that shit.

But, but, but, I get it. Sometimes it is a plot point, but what really annoys me, is when you see a certain event go down through that “random” characters point of view, and then the next chapter they just skip showing the event from the protagonists point of view!

I’ve been here for that person for so long now, don’t cheat me out of reading their reactions now. I’m devoted now goddamnit!

So yeah, that’s a pet peeve of mine.

Anyway, to leave on a better note: I did enjoy this book, more than I probably should.

When that is said though, this is not a book for everyone. If you know you don’t like gore, dark or some sensitive/taboo themes, then don’t read it. Know your limits, and what you’d enjoy.

#fallocaust #quil carter #romance #m-m-romance #dark #horror #post-apocalyptic #sci-fi #trigger warnings #tw: drugs #tw: abuse #tw: gore #tw: rape #tw: cannibalism #book review

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wlwinry · 7 years ago

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sunfire and blood

@geldris Happy birthday, Brooke! Hope you like your present!

------------------

Gelda was never exactly normal. A vampire born, not Turned, and born in broad daylight at that, she entered the world with a scream--like she had been unleashed on the world as opposed to merely joining it. Her eyes flew open, blazing like two living flames, before fading to the ordinary slate-gray that the world would see for years on end.

She shrieked as her mother, Izraf's favorite consort, withered in the sunlight, raising her small hands to the great warmth above her--and was bundled back into the shadows.

After all, no ordinary vampire could possibly stand in the sun and survive.

(Then again, Gelda was certainly far from ordinary.)

Gelda was fifteen when she learned the meaning of destiny, fifteen and still a child, fifteen and already beautiful with defiant gray eyes and wild white-blonde hair. Izraf (father, master, utter bastard) had decided that her affinity would be ice, that already she must look the part of a pale, cold pillar of unparalleled loveliness. Already she was being clothed in white, trained to resist the cold, breathing in cool air and exhaling warmth.

She hated it.

Ice was deadly, but it was tame, useless, usable. Gelda didn't want to be tame, put to use by her father, forced into a life of pretty smiles and hidden blades. She wanted to scream, to blaze, to pour forth her power and make the world fear her in all her wild, feral glory.

But such wild emotions were considered human, and humans were considered weak (they weren't, she knew; the anger of humans, the love of humans could burn entire worlds), and if there was one thing Gelda absolutely could not afford to be, it was anything but strong.

Ice, though...she didn't want ice. If she couldn't roar and fight and make the world listen, then she didn't want a magic the world expected from her. She wanted to be something new, something different, something...

Something.

So when fire sparked around her hands, the very fire that she'd been born under, blazing and bright and deadly, she fixed those fierce gray eyes on her father's disapproving face and laughed.

Gelda was sixty-seven, young and bold and brilliant as war raged around her. Already her father was building alliances, reaching out to the Demon Clan. She would've preferred to ally with Stigma, would have, if she had been the one in charge (female royals were not just allowed to fight, in many of the Stigma Clans, but they were allowed to rule and their opinions were heard and gods, wouldn't that be a change from all this silence), but her father refused to stand against the eldest son of the Demon King, who he said could slaughter them easily.

It was the first thing he said that she didn't question.

She clothed herself in scarlet and gold, let fire dance around her fingers as she stared over the balcony, leaning on the railing. The sun was rising and her Clan was asleep, hiding as though the daylight was poison to them. Perhaps it was--Ren's hand had blistered terribly when she'd stuck it out a window during the day, maybe that was because of the sunlight--but it had never scorched her. She drank in the daylight like nectar, reveling in the fact that her father could not reach her there, that this too marked her as something wild, different, unusual.

The sky turned scarlet as light rose on the horizon, and she smiled.

"Take what information you can." The goddess, with her silver hair and golden eyes and shining smile, squeezed her hands gratefully. "But stay safe. I'm glad you volunteered for this, Lady Gelda, but please, if you ever need to step out as our informant--"

Gelda gave the goddess a rueful grin in response. "Just call me Gelda, Brightfire's Blade."

There was a laugh, shining and silvery. "Then you must call me Elizabeth."

They would meet few times more, but Gelda never forgot her--the fearless healer who shone like the sun.

134

The Demon Clan was filled with imbeciles. Pompous, ridiculous, imbeciles.

Gelda, one-hundred-and-thirty-four, still overlooked, still eager to scream and rage and force the world to hear her in all her untamed glory, watched disinterestedly as the courtiers (the Six Black Knights, loathsome though they were, and a few of the elder Commandments--namely, the three much-lauded sons of the Demon King) ate and drank and made merry, celebrating the death of a Stigma battalion. No grief for how many of theirs were lost in the fight, of course. Her gaze drifted over the table, landing on three people--three princes.

The first, the eldest, had eyes like chips of black ice, deadly and savage and powerful. He regarded the world with a look of mild interest, with disdain, as though everyone he looked at was a somewhat amusing pet. Meliodas. Heir to the king, the most powerful demon (more powerful, they said, than his father before him) aside from the King, destruction incarnate, he was a monster in the skin of a man, waiting to be unleashed upon the world just as she was.

By contrast, the second prince (Estarossa, her father's voice in her head supplied) had a bright and cheerful sort of energy, wide violet eyes brimming with joy as he glanced eagerly around the room. This one was interesting, a child born to a family of prodigies with no magic whatsoever--a child who, if the demon servant she'd overheard had been correct, would have magic forced upon him soon enough. She'd done her research, of course; certain people simply weren't built for magic, even in a Clan where magic was so common that anyone without it was regarded as a freak and a failure. To disrupt that, to try and force it on them...that meant death, or madness, or both. That joy, that feeling of life in a world of destruction...well, she supposed he wouldn't have survived long anyway, but a pang of grief still struck her at the thought.

And the third...the third was the hardest to read. The third seemed built almost delicately despite how muscled he was, black hair spiked wildly as if to separate himself from his brothers, a strange light burning behind eyes of deepest black that sparked a sudden feeling of kinship. She knew that light--it was ambition, and a longing for freedom, and the knowledge that it was impossible to reconcile the two. Gelda leaned forward, her interest piqued by one possibly so similar to her.

"Careful." Ren's voice brought her back, and she glanced over at her half-sister. Red eyes flicked to the youngest prince and then back to her. "That one loves nothing but his own ambition. I'd steer clear if I were you."

Gelda tilted her head and smiled a smile that was all teeth and fire and feral savagery, letting her flames bleed into her eyes, and Ren recoiled. They both knew what she had said, what she was warning her of. You are not me.

She set her eyes, blazing red and gold and amber, on Zeldris, and felt her lips curve upwards as he gazed back.

179

Hands brushed her skirt, seeking, reaching, trying to take something that did not belong to them. Gelda didn't flinch, didn't even hesitate as fire wreathed her arm, didn't pause as she hurled it at the fool who'd dared touch her. She threw back her head and laughed at his screams, the first time she'd shown her true nature since adopting this cold, refined mask of hers.

Izraf punished her for it later, but it was worth it--worth it, for the fiercely admiring look in Zeldris's eyes, for the way they looked at her and whispered, for the moment that the words Of The Thousand Temptations were attached to her name.

Temptation, desire--it burned, and she'd burn anyone who thought they could put her in a cage. Quiet and cold she might have painted herself, but she could still scream, still blaze, still unleash herself on this world.

All Gelda had to do was wait.

267

Gelda was in love with a prince of demons, which, wow, was a sentence she'd never thought she'd say, or think, or believe so much. Zeldris was ambitious, yes, but he was also bold and clever and protective, as fearless and wild as she was. The only real difference between them was that he was willing to be tame if it meant clawing his way to the top, and she, well, she'd burn those who were leashing her in a second if given the chance.

The war, though...war seemed to have a habit of destroying good things, things she loved, and she watched as Zeldris grew distant, grew angry. Watched in silence as he was named the Executioner of the Demon Clan, as he took control of the Commandments after Meliodas's betrayal--and wasn't that a surprise, that he turned out to be the traitor in their midst. Well, beyond me. She'd seen him on the opposing side of the battlefield, now, eyes green and cutting as emeralds, fighting back to back with a goddess with eyes like sapphire and hair like moonlight, had seen him tear his way through the Demon Clan for harming innocents, watched the darkness that once crushed spin protectively around others.

She envied him fiercely, for being able to act, for breaking the chains his father had tried to put on him. For being as wild and untamed as she'd always wanted to be.

Fire danced around her fingers and she scowled for a moment, before extinguishing the flame as Zeldris neared. Her rage softened to warm affection at the look of exhaustion and hope mingling on his face, dark eyes shining with a pleading light she hadn't seen in what felt like ages.

She could weather the chains, the leashes, the pain of being caged if it meant he would be safe, would be free, would know how much he meant to her.

345

In hindsight, Gelda should have known that Ren was right--not about most things, of course, but about ambition. It took one to know one, after all, and Zeldris...

Zeldris was here to kill them, to kill them all. To kill her.

Fire bled into her eyes unbidden, glowing as sparks danced and spun around her. His hand shook on the hilt of his sword, his eyes shining with grief. He doesn't want to do this. She felt her lips twist into something between a smile and a snarl. If only we had been born anything but the daughter of the Vampire King and son of the Demon King, if only we were anything but the Executioner and the Thousand Temptations.

If only we were free.

"Do it," she said softly, even as he shook his head (once, slowly, tears shining on his face in the light of her flames). "End it."

You win.

3,345

She felt nothing as she burned Ren to ash, as she offered Meliodas (gods, he looked the same, how did he look the same) a too-sweet smile. "Kill me."

He didn't.

Merlin brought her the child not a year later, the sorceress giving her a catlike smirk as her delicate hand rested on the shoulder of a young boy with shining violet eyes and a sword in his hand. "Lady Gelda, this is Arthur Pendragon, prophesied King of Camelot." Her gaze flicked to the child with obvious affection. And no wonder--she'd heard the rumors, the stories. Merlin, the feared Sin of Gluttony, had practically raised him. "Arthur, this is Gelda, the Lady of the Lake and last of the vampires."

Violet eyes widened with...oh dear, was that hero-worship? "Nice to meet you, Lady Gelda!" He lifted the sword to her line of sight. "Merlin said that you could keep this safe until it was needed?"

Excalibur.

Gelda knelt before Arthur, eyes flickering from gray to flame and back again, searching his face and finding nothing but hope and courage and such spirit in one so young. "Of course, little one."

Don't let the world crush you as it did me, she thought, only to gasp as he flung his arms around her with a squeal of delight. "Thank you!"

...I'm going to get attached, aren't I.

(Later she learned of the curse, learned that the goddess she'd once passed information to was now a human as full of courage as her original form. She vowed that this time, she'd protect them all--like she should have in the beginning.)

3,353

The war was raging, and Gelda knew it was time.

Fire wove and leapt around her as she shed her dress (gold and red and brilliant, but cold and slow and restricting), leaving only sleek shadows and shining gold, the darkness of the metal-plated bodysuit lighting as veins of gold started twining through it like magma through the earth. She tilted her head from side to side, flexed her fingers briefly, and touched the wards surrounding Avalon; they rippled before giving way, and a wild, feral grin overtook her face.

A flash of fire and then she was gone, she was flying and crashing and the battlefield was burning beneath her as she blazed her way forth to Camelot.

Gelda was fire, Gelda was free and untamed and now she was unleashing herself on the world that had tried to cage her, unleashing herself on the demon who had tried to tame her and on behalf of the humans who'd needed her, the humans she'd come to love, to protect. Arthur, Elizabeth, and all those they protect...

Zeldris, too, would dance in the fire with her, rise with her as she set the world aflame and walked in the daylight.

For Gelda was a wildfire, a glorious conflagration, and she had never been tame.

#nnt #nanatsu no taizai #gelda #zeldris #geldris #happy birthday darling #I hope you like it!#may your birthday be filled with good gelda & zeldris content!

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mst3kproject · 7 years ago

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809: I Was a Teenage Werewolf

Kind of a strange title, isn't it? I Was a Teenage Werewolf. It seems to imply two things: first of all, the word was ought to suggest that this is all in the past, that the speaker has been cured of his lycanthropy and good for him! Second, and even stranger, is the fact that the title is in the first person. A title that begins with the word I implies that this is a retrospective, a story the main character is telling to us after the fact like Helene DeLambre telling her brother-in-law how Andre ended up with the head of a fly. Yet in the movie itself, Tony dies, still a werewolf! He clearly isn't sitting around remembering these events.

Actually, this whole movie is pretty weird. It's one of the more mainstream-ish films ever to be featured on MST3K (my Mom says she remembers seeing it when it was new), but the longer you think about it, the less sense it makes.

Tony Rivers is a pretty ordinary kid with a bad temper. After getting into a series of fights, he is sent to see Dr. Brandon, a psychologist who can supposedly hypnotize him into conformity. That sounds like the plot of a horror movie all on its own, but it gets worse. Dr. Brandon has apparently given up hope on the human race and decided that the only solution to our economic and nuclear woes is to regress us all back to the stone age and let society start over. He dopes Tony up (on an anti-nausea drug for some reason) and starts the regression process, but instead of Tony turning into a club-wielding caveman or something, he becomes a *dam wirwulf!

In terms of production values, I Was a Teenage Werewolf is one of the better movies to make the MST3K cut. The actors are competent, the pacing's not bad, cinematography works, and the werewolf makeup is no better but not appreciably worse than anything else on offer in a late fifties cheapie. You could watch this on its own, but as an episode it's okay. Mike and the bots make jokes about the care and training of your werewolf and about thrown dairy products that are very funny, and 'jokes' accusing Tony of abusing his girlfriend Arlene that are never funny in the slightest.

The plot, however, is baffling. First, there's its use of hypnosis. Between this, The Undead, and The She-Creature, I'm starting to think hypnosis was one of those Magic Plot Coupons in the 50's, like radiation, that could be used to explain just about anything. The Great Vorelli transfers souls into puppets using hypnosis. Quintus in The Undead goes bodily back in time, literally vanishing and leaving his empty clothes in his chair. Dr. Carlo Lombardi manifests a giant lobster monster and makes it kill people by hypnotizing Andrea. I swear the most plausible use of hypnosis I've seen doing this blog is Vorelli raping Marianne!

MST3K did three werewolf movies: in The Mad Monster Pedro became a werecoyote through a transfusion of coyote blood, and in Werewolf you could either cut yourself on the teeth of the werewolf skull or be injected with blood from somebody who had. These both sort of feel like they make sense according to 'rules' we're already familiar with – lycanthropy is spread by biting, which implies an infection of some sort. But hypnosis? Being hypnotized does make the subject more open to suggestion, to the point where people have become convinced that they were abducted by aliens or members of non-existent satanic cults. If Tony merely believed he'd become a werewolf, hypnosis as an explanation would work, but the movie makes it clear that his transformation is a physical reality! It can't be the drug that did it, since Tony transforms without it on at least two occasions. No, it seems we're meant to believe Dr. Brandon literally talked Tony into being a werewolf. Pepe the Latino-Transylvanian janitor's theory of the evil eye and possession would actually work better, by invoking the supernatural instead.

Why a werewolf, anyway? Dr. Brandon says he wants to regress Tony to a more primitive state, but human beings did not evolve from werewolves. If he wants to make us better by divorcing us from our technology, why does he try to do so by turning his subject into a mindless killer? A world full of werewolves would definitely mean an end to civilization as we know it, but it doesn't seem like there'd be anything much left to start over from. If Tony's condition were in any way an unexpected result of the treatment, this might work better with what Brandon says he's trying to do, but he behaves as if were-Tony is exactly what he wanted.

Brandon's assistant Hugo points out that the whole scheme is stupid and that Brandon doesn't exactly have Tony's informed consent, only to be answered with a sneer of, “and you call yourself a scientist!” I guess scientists just decide to make monsters and come up with the rationalization later, ethics be damned.

In a way, Tony's treatment kind of seems to do him some good – his grades improve and his principal comments on how he's much better at getting along with his peers, to the point where she wants to offer him an honours certificate and a letter of recommendation. This seems like good news, and if that were the extent of Tony's personality changes we might be tempted to conclude that being a werewolf is beneficial! Maybe his lycanthropy allows him to work out his urges to violence through murder at night, leaving him quieter during the day? There's more to it than this, however – Tony's friends note that he's 'not himself' and that the difference runs deeper than just not punching everything in sight. He has become anxious and withdrawn, and no longer wants to hang out with them or with Arlene.

To this day, a great many people refuse to seek treatment for mental illness because they fear the medication will leave them a sort of zombie, able to function but with their personality gone. Others refuse to get help because they don't want to be thought of as a 'mental patient' – Tony refers to this when he says he doesn't want to be considered a 'flip'. The police, his father, and his girlfriend all encourage him, but to no avail until the incident at the Hallowe'en party makes it clear that things simply cannot go on the way they are. Then when Tony does seek treatment, it turns out to be worse than he feared. Dr. Brandon not only leaves him a shell of his former self but in a very real sense makes his condition worse. Human Tony committed assault. Werewolf Tony is a murderer.

As in many werewolf movies, the werewolf himself is not the monster but the victim. The real villain is the monster-maker, who here represents all society's fears not about mental illness itself, but about the attempts to help those who have it! Shame on AIP, shame on director Gene Fowler, and shame on writer/producer Herman Cohen for villifying psychologists. Surely there's enough stigma surrounding mental illness without adding that!

Another part of the generally unfavourable view of psychologists in this movie seems to be inherent in the bell triggering Tony's transformations. This is kind of confusing when it happens, since Dr. Brandon never rang a bell for Tony and the first werewolf attack, on the boy walking home in the woods, doesn't seem to be related to a bell. But it's a bell that prompts Tony to transform and attack the gymnast, and a ringing phone that makes him attack Dr. Brandon. I think this may be intended to invoke Pavlov's dog, which was taught to salivate when a bell rang. The fact that it was a dog in the experiment might even make this an intentional joke, on a similar level to Mike and the bots' comments about flea collars and leashes. But Pavlov's experiment was, of course, a psychological experiment, exploring the brain's associations between stimuli, and so this once again serves to throw a poor light on the psychologist.

As a movie, I Was a Teenage Werewolf feels a little unfinished. There's only the one victim in the woods before Tony is 'outed' when he attacks the gymnast, so there's no chance for the story to build up a sense of suspense and danger. We want to see the teens start to wonder if their 'Haunted House' hangout really is haunted. We want to see Tony narrowly avoid transforming and killing Arlene. The script wants us to both fear and pity Tony, but there's never enough done with the monster to really inspire either. We get such a brief and perfunctory introduction to the victims that their deaths mean nothing to us. The only really poignant thing in the movie is when Tony goes to Dr. Brandon begging for help while we know this is the last thing he ought to do, and as a result the only really satisfying thing is that Tony kills Dr. Brandon at the end.

It's frustrating to watch a movie waste so much of its potential. It feels like the script was written in an awful hurry, and the audience leaves feeling like the movie could have been so much more than it was. The lack of care and thought that went into this story is a terrible shame, because I Was a Teenage Werewolf has a good cast and acceptable monster makeup, is competently directed and decently scored. It had everything it needed to be a pretty good werewolf movie... it just wasn't.

#mst3k #reviews #i was a teenage werewolf #tw: rape #tw: abuse #50s #you is a warwelf

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nerobombs · 8 years ago

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Writing Oppression

(Want more? Check out my Writing tag!)

Hope you’re not sick of the Stormblood-induced rants yet, because here’s another one.

I’m sure there’s many Domans, Xaela, and Ala Mhigans getting ready to get back at those darn Garleans and settle into their newly liberated homes. So I’m sure a lot of the player stories that come out of Stormblood will be surrounding that: themes of oppression, of returning home with new experiences, the idea of institutionalised power and how it can be wielded, and so on.

Well, maybe, anyway.

To preface this, my demographic is not what you might call “disenfranchised”. None of the places I’ve lived in or visited are particularly rife with genuine oppression--which I suspect will change when my North Korean visa finally gets approved and America hits its third year of a Cheeto Benito presidency (ooh, spicy political commentary!)--so I’ll admit that I’m approaching this topic more in theory and from logical examination than from experience.

I’ve definitely consumed media wherein oppression is depicted however, and more often than not such things end up depicted more cartoonishly than anything else. You know, really weird and unintuitive racial slurs, mustache-twirling commissars, goose stepping secret police, and so on.

I’d like to avoid that. Oppression in fiction can be a fascinating topic and an environment that provides for a lot of intrigue.

And if you’re worried that this post is going to contain some ol’ SJW bullshit then, well, it’s not.

So if you’re looking to approach the topic of Garlemald’s occupation in your storyline, you may want to read further.

1). Internalisation is a genuine factor to consider.

In short, when you get told something often enough, you’ll probably start believing it regardless of whether or not you cognitively recognise it as false.

For a historical example, a “colonial mentality” is a form of internalised oppression where the colonised people feel themselves to be inferior to their imperialist colonisers. The nuances are complex--thoughts can range from “Well they managed to take over half the world and we didn’t so we must be worse people” or “our economy is so much better now with our new overlords”, and so on--but the principle is relatively simple. This sort of thing happened a lot with the spread of the Spanish Empire and the rule of the conquistadors, particularly with places like the Philippines.

It happens a lot in marketing too: women are told they’re not thin and beautiful enough, men are told they’re not manly and successful enough, and both of these things lead to self-esteem issues. Same mechanism, for the most part.

Weirdly enough, this is something I almost never see portrayed in fiction with oppressed societies. It’s a kind of society-level Stockholm Syndrome. Certainly there will be Domans or Ala Mhigans or Xaela who truly believe that they are inferior to Garleans and that Garlemald is something to aspire to, and breaking such an internalisation takes a lot of work, simply because the information is everywhere.

So when you’re considering why oppressed citizenry might side with their oppressors, consider internalisation. Consider the effect of seeing and hearing “Be grateful to your conquerors for they are better and wiser” day in, day out.

2). Bigotry and intelligence are not mutually exclusive.

Or to put it another way: people can genuinely believe racist shit regardless of their status, upbringing, or intellect.

Let’s write a character, Garlic McGarlemald the Garlean. For all intents and purposes he is kind, fair, and intelligent. He’s a university professor, donates to the poor, loves his wife and children, and also sincerely believes that all Xaela are savage horsefuckers who cut off their enemy’s heads in order to consume their soul.

Wait, what?

One of the pitfalls of writing an oppressive or racist society is the depiction. A lot of these stories depict all oppressive racists as universally dumb, drooling ignoramuses who spend all day teaching their children to play “Lynch the Minority” and “Spell the Slur”. And, well, okay, there are certainly people like that.

But in a truly oppressive society, the dumb racists are not the dangerous ones: the really dangerous ones are people like Garlic McGarlemald who is, for the most part, an ordinary person perfectly capable of critical thinking, yet still inexplicably believes in this shit for reasons no party can really rationalise.

And if that doesn’t seem logical in the slightest, it’s not. But it’s certainly realistic.

People do actually believe in stuff like that. You had scientists in the 19th century seeking “natural, evolutionary” reasons as to why other races were inferior to whites. You had logicians, biologists, and anthropologists huddling around and wondering why whites were so much awesome-er than all those other dirtfarmer races. It was something that was just believed. Maybe it was because it was a cultural cornerstone or it was merely a result of internalisation, but people who by all rights could be considered intelligent and capable believed that stuff.

And while we’re on the subject...

“But my bigot character doesn’t really believe in that stuff, of course he’s smart enough to know that’s all bollocks,” you might say. Garlic McGarlemald is just under social pressure to pretend he believes this stuff, that’s all!

Well, that’s not really valid. For one, from a writing perspective, that kind of argument is a total cop-out; it’s a lazy way to keep your character “clean” for fear of being controversial. For two, lip service has absolutely zero value in this context: unless Garlic McGarlemald is actually willing to take action, he’s still a bigot. A passive and well-meaning bigot, perhaps, but still a bigot. Not only is he a bigot, but he is a hypocrite too, because he refuses to jeopardise the racist and bigoted system that he himself benefits from.

And this is where the “with us or against us” mentality sort of comes from: if your character is part of the oppressors, then he/she is an oppressor unless they’re actively working against it. Being passively racist is still racist, so sayeth the oppressed, because institutionalised power is still power.

3). Prejudice can have layers.

Consider the “double jeopardy hypothesis” which proposes that, for example, a Asian-American woman is not only subject to racism and sexism, but to the combined effects of both simultaneously. And if she falls into the LBTQ camp (or however many letters that camp seems to have these days), then she’s going through triple jeopardy because heterosexism piles on like a big smelly heterosexist frog.

I say that it’s a hypothesis (and from a scientific standpoint it still is) but this isn’t particularly beyond the stretch of logic.

Let’s say your Xaela meets Garlic McGarlemald. Now obviously, Garlic McGarlemald hates your Xaela. But he doesn’t hate your Xaela just because your Xaela is a Xaela: Mr. Garlic hates your Xaela because they talk funny, dress in rags, have a weird pagan religion and because they’re bisexual.

Would Garlic McGarlemald hate a Garlean who was the same thing? Well, we don’t know. But the point I’m trying to make here is that an oppressive society will use everything, and I mean everything it can weaponise against the people they’re trying to oppress.

To go further, Garleans might dislike that Domans speak a weird language, they also hate Domans because they eat raw fish (barbarians!), force their children to kneel on bamboo mats (monsters!), and refuse to export Mother 3 to the United States, in addition to taking eight years to finish a new Persona game (complete heathens, I say!).

See what I mean?

4). People who belong to the oppressor group can have nice qualities.

If you’ll harken back to my intro paragraph, I don’t like it when oppressors are depicted as universally revolting mustache-twirling Nazis with no redeeming qualities.

Like I said, Garlic McGarlemald can be considered a nice guy, excepting the racism. People who are among the oppressors in an oppressive society aren’t universally bad. After all, for a lot of them it’s not particularly their fault that they were raised in a society that encouraged such bigotry. And internalisation happens with things like racism too: even when they become educated, they seek new reasons to justify their bigotry because it’s all they were raised to know.

There is a nauseating amount of self-righteousness that comes with depicting all racists and bigots as unrepentant monsters who hit so many branches of the stupid tree that they’re in danger of accidentally swallowing their own extra chromosome.

So don’t do that. If you’re going to write your oppressors, at least write some of them as mostly well-meaning.

5). Avoid tokenism.

Or, to put it in a more wordy way: either judge every group within your story as a group, or judge every group within your story as individuals.

Let’s say that Garlic McGarlemald is actually not a nice man, and he drinks alcohol and beats his wife.

Edgy, isn’t it?

Now, when being written by a not-so-good writer, Garlic McGarlemald won’t place any stigma upon his group, because he is part of the oppressive Garleans. It’s not that all Garleans are drunken wifebeaters, it’s just that Garlic McGarlemald specifically has that problem.

Meanwhile, Xaela Xaelason accidentally trips and breaks a bottle, therefore all Xaela are clumsy!

No. That can’t fly. And the reason why that can’t fly is because it very quickly descends into becoming preachy.

This happens a lot with poorly written fantasy novels: there is a single named character who is gay or has dark skin, and that single character ends up representing the author’s entire views on gays or black people.

So when you’re writing something like an oppressive society, multiple characters are important. You have to be willing to do the work to portray each side--oppressors and the oppressed--as having complex people who aren’t easily categorised.

Don’t insert a Token Doman or a Token Good Garlean or a Token Evil Xaela and then use that character to make blanket statements within your story. Because that’s just lazy writing.

6). Oppression is hard to escape.

Whether you’re one of the oppressors attempting to open your worldview or you’re one of the oppressed trying not to fall down the same slippery slope, oppression isn’t an easy thing to “win” against.

There’s no magic argument or book that suddenly allows one to instantly widen their acceptance of race, religion, language, sex, sexual orientation, etc. Similarly, there is no Garden of Eden free of prejudice.

If you’re planning to tackle oppression as a theme, be prepared to be conscious of it, for as long as the theme is relevant. You can’t have Xaela Xaelason make it to the land of his people and decide that Prejudice Doesn’t Exist. No, Xaela Xaelason would be judged based on the fact that he was born in a city and doesn’t know any Xaela customs or traditions. He’d be judged for not staunchly supporting the tribal religion. He’s among other Xaela, and there will be prejudice there, too.

It’s a double-sided magnet, and it has some powerful pull. Be aware of that.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #stormblood #rp #roleplaying #writing #writing tips #oppression #honestly the hardest part of these posts is coming up with damn tags #ala mhigo #i hope i don't regret writing this?

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motherhenna · 8 years ago

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Okay def wanna know more about milo and kerza and dublin. How were they able to overcome or work thru the dysfunction to actually end up married and everything? Like you say milo changed a bit for the better but how did kerza change?

One thing I’d like to explore if I ever actually turned their post-war // dublin experience into a novel in and of itself would actually be the concept of romantic love versus friendship, and why marriage is usually based on only the former. But in the most basic terms, “modern” marriage is a legally binding partnership that ideally lasts–well, forever. So what I propose is that marriages don’t always have to be passionate and romantic in the conventional sense to work out. While a unique kind of sexual/romantic feeling does eventually develop between the two, I still feel the need to stress that their relationship is a friendship, first and foremost. But because “just friendship” between men and women wasn’t accepted as feasible in the society of the time (and it still isn’t, more often than not :/), marriage became–weirdly enough–the next most plausible option for them. Essentially, it allowed Milo and Kerza to live together (without social stigma), build a home for themselves, and rest easy at night knowing that they’ve chosen someone who will always be there.

In a lot of ways, the war destroyed both of their capacites for…well, ordinary romance. Any relationship–but especially romantic ones–require a high level of vulnerability and trust between partners, things that neither Kerza nor Milo are ever really comfortable with again, even with each other, as it obviously takes a lot of blood, sweat and tears for them to create a sustainable and functional partnership. Plus, both have been severely traumatized, and end up struggling with mental illness for the rest of their lives, which obviously makes finding an ideal romantic partner significantly more complicated and difficult. Like, speaking as someone who’s mentally ill myself, I know I wouldn’t feel right about dating a completely neurotypical individual, as this automatically creates a skewed power dynamic and a sense of “you just don’t get it”. Thus, it makes sense that Kerza and Milo gravitate towards people who have shared in similar struggles as themselves, which is the concept that my quote “we are bound by suffering and love” revolves around. In a lot of ways, though their joint traumas create a lot of dysfunction and even friction between them, the pros overall outweigh the cons. Their demons play well with each other, so to speak.

I’m thinking of adding a quick “Editors note” to the end of Vergessenheit, in which Kerza’s eldest daughter, Petra, attempts to come to terms with the experience of reading and editing her mother’s creation and tries to piece together the woman that she once was. I’d like her to briefly describe what it was like growing up with Kerza and Milo for parents: mention that although, as a child, Petra knew they loved each other, she could tell they were different than most of the married couples she knew of. Though the two sometimes shared an offhand kiss before parting ways on busy mornings and were so often by each other’s side, there was never the kind of sexual tension between them that’s usually seen/felt with lovers. Never anything delicate or traditionally romantic: just the rough, comfortable kind of affection between the oldest of friends, interspersed with occasional hand bolding and the odd kiss or two. They never called each other “dear” or “darling” unless speaking sarcastically, preferring old nicknames and tender insults in their native tongue. Though they squabbled often, their rows would rarely last long, and they’d always go back to their usual easiness sooner rather than later.

But yeah that was probably kind of dense, but basically the gist is that I’d warn my readers against holding their breath for any traditional romance between Kerza and Milo 😂 though they have their occasional moments of passion, their relationship actually stays weirdly similar to how it was in their childhood, despite everything–just with both parties being much more mature, world-weary and ripped at the edges.

As far as personal changes undergone by these characters go: Kerza grows for the better due to her innate desire for movement and a hatred of stagnancy. Without these personality traits, she would have likely fallen all the deeper into that familiar pit of regret and bitterness that so many other trauma survivors without proper support are dragged into. She initially wraps herself up in anguish completely, allowing herself to experience these emotions in all their fullness–and though this kind of immersion is always a harrowing experience, she came out of it still standing. Metaphorically, Kerza ripped off her bandage and dealt with the agony that comes with cleaning a wound. But Milo, unequipped and too afraid to confront whatever was underneath, left it all to fester.

This is why Kerza is able to move on with her life so much quicker than Milo, at least on the surface. She keeps herself as busy as possible, with either traveling, studying, or–eventually–working at a local Dublin newspaper to support herself. She starts out as an unpaid intern, then a secretary, and continues climbing the ladder until she is able to earn the respect of her colleagues and pursue a career in journalism. And though Kerza was always interested in that field and probably would have gone into the workforce no matter what, one of the main reasons she became as intense as she did about her career is the basic need for money and stability. Her only remaining relative, Aunt Kitty, had never been a particularly financially reliable individual (despite her intellect and love of numbers), since she always moves around too much to hold down a steady job and is entirely unused to having anyone to take care of, let alone two traumatized children (as Daniel too is without close relatives, and chooses to remain with Kerza rather than plunging into an orphanage or foster home). Kerza’s parents had been saving up a sizable nest egg for their children, but nearly all of it had been depleted during the post-WWI financial crash–so while they were all able to live relatively comfortably after the worst of the depression, it was at the cost of their savings. Thus, when Kerza at last receives her inheritance, it’s just barely enough to supplant her travels across Greece and America, pay for her courses and schoolbooks at University (for a year or two at least), and help her aunt with the annual payments to Daniel’s boarding school back in Bonn. Plus, when Daniel decides to follow her to Ireland in 1947, she wants to be able to support him as well, even though he insists on living in the dormitories with the other foreign or out-of-town students so as not to impose on her.

So yeah, that’s Kerza’s section: she essentially goes from a good-hearted but immature and melodramatic little girl to a fiercely independent and hard-working young woman: a survivor in every sense of the word.

That’s all I have room for right now haha but let me know if you want to hear more!

#ask #Kerza Fleischer #Milo Eberstark #vergessenheit #OCs #babsthegingerqueen

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vox · 8 years ago

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Why feminism didn't lose in 2016

Donald Trump’s presidential election victory, and Hillary Clinton’s loss, was a devastating blow to feminism. America had a choice between its first woman president and an alleged sexual predator; between “women’s rights are human rights” and “grab ’em by the pussy”; between telling our daughters they can do anything they want, and telling them that anything can be done to them by powerful, entitled men.

We know which option America chose. We also know it would have chosen differently if “one person, one vote” were anything but a cruel joke under our Electoral College system — but that’s beside the point now.

“However freakishly contingent [Trump’s] triumph, it forecloses the future feminists imagined at least for a long while,” Michelle Goldberg argues at Slate. “We’re going be blown backward so far that this irredeemably shitty year may someday look like a lost feminist golden age.” 2016, Goldberg writes, might go down as “the year the feminist bubble burst.”

In some ways, it’s hard to argue with her conclusion. Federal policy on women’s issues is likely to become a train wreck over the next four years — from Congress defunding family planning services, to civil rights enforcers shrugging at rape on college campuses, to labor agencies dismantling the few protections there are against gender-based discrimination in the workplace.

It’s also a massive blow to morale, Goldberg argues, when an obviously qualified woman loses the presidency to such an obviously less-qualified man — a blow that “can’t help but reverberate through the culture, changing our sense of what is possible for women.” Goldberg says her nightmare scenario is a new anti-feminist backlash of the kind we haven’t seen since the Reagan years. She fears the dawn of an era in which men who have been “stewing about political correctness” can start mistreating women with even more impunity.

Part of me shares those fears. Backlashes to social progress are real, and they happen with depressing regularity. But, honestly? I have a hard time seeing this particular nightmare — men feeling any more entitled to women’s bodies than normal, or feminism being any more credibly blamed for all of women’s problems than normal — coming to pass.

Yes, feminist hopes have been dashed — but feminist efforts haven’t failed. The only “bubble” that’s been popped is the one that had some people convinced misogyny was already over, or at least well on its way out the door.

There were some deeply painful losses in the ongoing battle for women’s rights and equality this year. There’s no way around that. But Trump’s victory didn’t vanquish feminism. It just clarified the challenges that feminism is really up against — even now, still, in America in 2016. And the important part is this: 2016 proved that feminism is up to the challenge. And it’s steadily winning battles in a very, very long war against something even bigger than Trumpism.

2016 was still a year of reckoning for men who act with sexual impunity

2016 did, sadly and predictably, keep up humanity’s thousands-year trend of men committing sexual violence against women or otherwise behaving badly. Jezebel has a whole list of “Men Who Got Away With It in 2016,” where “it” ranges from criminal mischief to domestic violence to genocide, and where the men in question are all famous and still basically doing just fine for themselves.

But some of them didn’t get away with it, at least not entirely. And the reasons for that are reasons for feminists to be optimistic. It’s getting a little easier for victims of sexual violence to come forward, it seems, and it’s getting a little harder for perpetrators to escape consequences.

Former Fox News CEO Roger Ailes became “former,” not to mention “disgraced,” thanks to the determined efforts of Gretchen Carlson — the former Fox anchor who sued Ailes for sexual harassment, secretly taped his advances (which Ailes still denies making) for a year, and inspired numerous other women to go public about similar experiences with him.

There were limits to this feminist victory. Carlson may have gotten a $20 million settlement and an apology from Fox, but Ailes got a $40 million golden parachute. Carlson faced public skepticism from her colleagues and attacks on her character, like so many women who go public about sexual misconduct. And how are ordinary women with ordinary support networks supposed to feel about coming forward when even a popular TV personality like Carlson is only vindicated after a year of dedicated groundwork, and only after an even more famous colleague (Megyn Kelly) also comes forward to back her up? (We may have a gender wage gap of 80 or so cents on the dollar — but when it comes to public perceptions of sexual violence, we’ll be lucky when a woman’s word is worth 80 percent of a man’s.)

Nonetheless, Ailes was one of the most powerful men in media. He made Fox News what it is today. It was never, ever a foregone conclusion that he could be taken down at all by something like this, much less that he’d lose his job over it.

Other high-profile cases of sexual misconduct in 2016 came with similarly mixed, but still powerful, feminist victories. Bill Cosby’s accusers were ignored for years until a malecomedian said something in 2014 — but in 2016 Cosby faced criminal charges (which he may or may not be convicted of, but there’s damning evidence against him), and his reputation is in the toilet. Former Stanford student and convicted rapist Brock Turner only served three months of his six-month jail sentence — but after his victim’s eloquent plea for justice went viral, his light sentence became a national scandal.

As for Donald Trump, well, he won the election. But while many voters were able to overlook his blatant misogyny, that doesn’t mean they liked or approved of it. The Access Hollywood tapes, and the many women who came forward after that to accuse Trump of sexual assault, dealt a huge blow to his campaign — one that only the last-minute chaos of FBI Director James Comey’s letter about Hillary Clinton’s emails could really help him recover from.

All of these major stories have one thing in common: women’s voices, amplifying and being amplified by other women’s voices. One woman speaking out, inspiring a dozen others to follow suit because they know they’re not alone. One woman speaking out, and changing the story we tell about a powerful man — in public, instead of the usual whispered warning to other women behind closed doors, or the usual ashamed silence.

More women are speaking out, and more people are listening to them. This is a new normal that can’t easily be reversed.

Perhaps more than ever, 2016 was the year of women both speaking out and being heard. This doesn’t seem like too much to ask for, but it’s also not something we can take for granted.

In just the past decade or so, feminism has become mainstream, culturally hip, and politically savvy. Beyoncé, for instance, has made feminism both appealing (think the FEMINIST sign at the 2014 Video Music Awards) and challenging (think the proud black feminism of her 2016 album Lemonade) to mainstream audiences.

In 2016, women’s magazines like Cosmopolitan and Glamour ran election stories that any other outlet would consider major scoops. And some people on the internet seemedshocked — shocked! — that Teen Vogue would feature hard-hitting coverage of the 2016 election and not just beauty tips.

But none of this is surprising, as Sady Doyle explained for Quartz: The rise of feminist blogs during the George W. Bush years ended up “training an army of female journalists and editors” who now write for major outlets like the New York Times, or who have found their home at successful new digital publications. Even though it still gets dismissed and made fun of, feminist news coverage has gone mainstream.

No wonder then, perhaps, that decades of rape allegations against Bill Cosby didn’t even begin to catch up with him until late 2014, or that this year featured a broader cultural reckoning on sexual assault, or that Hillary Clinton decided to vocally embrace her gender and feminist values in 2016 after having done the opposite in 2008.

Social media has also given women huge platforms and communities to discuss problems they might otherwise have stayed silent about — or that they may never have found the words for until someone gave it a name.

When Trump’s “pussy” tape inspired author Kelly Oxford to tweet about her first sexual assault, and encourage other women to do the same, she was inundated with responses at the rate of at least one per second for at least the next day. And when I wrote about her tweets, women I know started telling me about experiences they’d kept to themselves for years.

There are many reasons — stigma, shame, trauma, and so on — why women might not talk openly about assault, even though it’s so common. But we’ve also been raised to expect that this kind of thing happens all the time. That it’s no big deal if a guy casually gropes you at a bar, or that it’s flattering if he gives you a kiss you weren’t expecting. That the sick, hollow feeling you might get about it afterward is your problem.

If you get enough women in a room to talk about this, though, they might start realizing they all have the same “problem.” They might give that problem a name, like “sexual assault,” and decide there’s no good reason to put up with it anymore.

They might even start naming and stop tolerating some of “the small indignities that make even the most privileged female lives taxing,” as Goldberg put it — like “mansplaining” (a man condescending to a woman on a subject she knows better than he does) or “manspreading” (when men take up too much space on a subway, e.g., and crowd others out).

Can this get a little ridiculous or trivial? Perhaps. Then again, it’s not like sexism saves itself for the really weighty, serious issues. Sometimes misogyny is actually so ridiculous, so absurd, that the only sensible response is blowing raspberries and laughing in its face. Lord knows we’re all going to need a little levity under Trump.

Systemic sexism depends on silence — people who will look the other way, or who will shut up those loud women who don’t have the courtesy to shut themselves up. But once silences are broken as widely and deeply as they have been for women this year, this decade, it’s very hard to put all of that back in the bottle.

In 2016, loud women fought off an extreme abortion ban in Poland, led a fierce fight against the Dakota Access Pipeline, and smacked down the idea that women should ever be embarrassed about their periods. Loud women planned a massive March on Washingtonfor the day after Trump’s inauguration that could be the largest-ever mobilization of its kind.

Women just aren’t shutting up, and it’s hard to see why they would start now.

The near future of feminism will be local and decentralized. That doesn’t mean it won’t be effective.

It’s important to remember that women still made historic national electoral gains despite Hillary Clinton’s loss; the number of women of color in the Senate is about to quadruple, from one to four. Plus, the symbolic milestone of Clinton’s campaign — the first woman presidential nominee of a major party, who won the popular vote by about 3 million votes — really does matter despite her loss, and is in some ways a feminist triumph.

Of course, a majority-Republican Congress and a Trump-Pence administration don’t bode well for advancing women’s health or rights at the federal level. But there’s tremendous opportunity and energy for progressives and feminists to make some serious gains at the state and local level in the meantime — which also happens to be a much better long-term organizing strategy than obsessing over presidential politics.

2016 was the best year yet in a promising fight to pass paid sick and family leave at the state and local level. The United States is the only developed country that doesn’t have national paid maternity leave, and the momentum to change that — at least locally, as long as Congress does nothing — is strong. Three states, one county, and 10 cities passed laws in 2016 that require workers to be able to earn paid sick days, and New York State and Washington, DC, both passed very generous family leave insurance programs.

And amazingly, reproductive rights may actually be on the upswing — in spite of everything, including a promise from Trump to appoint “pro-life” Supreme Court justices who could overturn Roe v. Wade.

The Supreme Court’s decision this summer to overturn two Texas abortion laws was a sweeping pro-choice game-changer; it’s already been used to strike down abortion restrictions in other states, and more court victories will probably follow in the near future. That decision also makes it much less likely that the Court would overturn Roe v. Wade in the near future — at least not unless and until Trump gets to appoint two or three new conservative justices.

Collectively, states also proposed about 300 bills that would expand, rather than restrict, women’s health and rights, including better access to contraception and better maternal health care. It’s a promising avenue to shore up women’s health at a time when comprehensive coverage under the Affordable Care Act could be in jeopardy.

There’s also at least one interesting, and very promising, state and local side effect of Hillary Clinton’s loss: She is reportedly inspiring a massive surge of interest among women in running for local political office. Driven by shock, fear, and anger over Trump’s win, many women say they want to be the change they want to see in government.

That’s incredibly important: Research shows that women’s political ambition, or lack thereof, is one of the biggest hurdles to getting more women in political office and working toward equal representation in government. Some women are qualified and driven, but have just literally never considered running for office as a serious possibility. Others feel intimidated by fears of sexism on the campaign trail, or don’t feel supported by their political establishment.

Either way, there’s a lack of qualified women in the pipeline to advance in political office. And if more women run and win, especially at the state and local level, they will not only set themselves up for more powerful offices later — they’ll also change how their government works.

With someone like Trump in office, it’s much harder to argue that sexism is a thing of the past. That’s a good thing.

It’s tempting to think of these developments as the start of a sea change — the last stand of the “good old boys” who used their power to abuse women with impunity and trust that everybody else would look the other way, for instance. But we shouldn’t start writing rape culture’s obituary just yet.

Younger generations may be more liberal than older ones in general, but research suggeststhat they’re not necessarily more progressive on issues related to gender equality and sexism. While there’s been some progress on these issues, the sexism that remains can actually be more dangerous — because people will be less prepared to believe it really exists, and thus less equipped to deal with it.

In a 2013 Pew survey of Americans, for instance, millennial men were the most likely demographic group to say that all necessary changes have already been made to bring about gender equality in the workplace. That’s nuts: Women face workplace discrimination in almost every imaginable way, from the very real gender wage gap, to pregnancy and parenting discrimination, to unequal representation in leadership, to America’s complete lack of any national paid maternity or family leave.

But complacency in the face of all of that could be tougher when your president is the kind of guy who thinks his own daughter should just change jobs if she were ever sexually harassed at work.

I think of the status quo on sexism, racism, and other forms of bigotry as like living in a town built on top of a toxic waste dump. The barrels aren’t as well-sealed or deeply buried as people think, and your kids are still getting sick, and still only certain kinds of crops will actually grow in that soil. But city officials insist everything’s fine — and really you should count your blessings, because in the next town over everybody has to wear gas masks.

But then one day, Hurricane Donald comes along. It roars through and rips up the grass and soil, and all the barrels bob to the surface and ooze toxic black goo everywhere, the stuff you thought and hoped was long buried.

It’s a much bigger and more obvious mess, and nobody’s happy. But at least nobody’s fooling themselves anymore, and you know just how much hard cleanup work is still ahead.

#feminism #feminist #sexism #sexist #politics #policy #justice #election #election 2016 #Donald Trump #Hillary Clinton

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brajeshupadhyay · 5 years ago

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Coronavirus Outbreak: Mohan Bhagwat’s words against stigmatisation and blaming of Muslims is timely; throws light on RSS philosophy

Mohan Bhagwat’s comments, where he alluded to Tablighi Jamaat attendees and said an entire community should not be vilified for the mistakes of a few, deserve greater scrutiny than a brief headline appearance. The statement, part of the RSS sarsanghchalak’s televised addressed on Sunday from Nagpur to mark the Hindu ceremony of Akshay Tritiya, comes at a significant time.

India is precariously perched in the battle against the coronavirus pandemic. Any missteps at this stage could undo the stringent administrative effort and a nation’s collective resolve to tide over the crisis. It is easy to forget India’s unique challenge given the size and density of its population. India’s trajectory of positive cases is comparatively slow thanks to decisive and early implementation of non-pharmaceutical measures but even at this slower rate, the case count could reach 50,000 in eight days, according to latest estimates.

RSS chief Mohan Bhagwat. ANI

In a nation of 1.3 billion citizens, 50,000 may be a fraction but India lacks the resources and requisite public health infrastructure to control the scale of the pandemic once we reach stage three. Our best course of action, therefore, is to delay the transition from stage two to stage three and hope for the development of an effective line of cure or vaccination.

To achieve this objective, it is vital that India remains unified in its determination. The importance of collective action to break the contagion chain cannot be overstated. We find the pandemic has made ‘solidarity’ an essential tool in the armoury, not just an ideal to strive for.

When so much is riding on a diverse nation’s collective action, any schism that challenges national solidarity at such a sensitive time is a threat. And when that schism develops around communal faultlines in a nation that remains maimed by communal violence, the threat becomes greater.

The Tablighi Jamaat cluster outbreak presented India with one such challenge. It threatened to rip the spirit of collective resolve by highlighting the communal cleavage, and the explosion of cases caused by the ‘super spreaders’ resulted in Muslims at large in India facing stigma and blame for the surge in the outbreak.

What made matters complicated is that the allegation against Tablighi Jamaat event attendees (that included a number of foreigners) was not unfounded. The Markaz event in New Delhi’s Nizamuddin area was a sad story of administrative oversight along with defiance, obstructionism and careless attitude on the part of the organisers.

By the first week of April, there were reports of more than 25,000 Jamaat preachers and their contacts getting quarantined across 15 states and Union health ministry claiming that the Markaz event had single-handedly brought down India’s doubling rate from 7.4 days to 4.1 days.

The pandemic affected the world at different levels. It has caused fear, anxiety and panic, ravaged global economies and rendered millions jobless, taken away their livelihoods, introduced uncertainty, triggered behavioural and social changes in a fundamental way. All this churning is taking place at a time when people have gone into self-imprisonment, trading their freedoms for safety and keeping their lives in suspended animation.

In India, the Tablighi Jamaat cluster outbreak caused considerable distress and anger. It didn’t help that some of the Tablighi members faced charges of indiscipline, misogynist, lurid behaviour and were accused of attacking frontline health workers. We witnessed polarised behaviour on social media where anti-Muslim trends started surfacing.

Soon enough, there were charges of Islamophobia, and foreign press went to town claiming Indian Muslims were “feeling targeted”, boycotted and subjected to religious hatred.

In this context, Bhagwat’s comments assume significance beyond mere virtue-signalling. When the RSS sarsanghchalak says: “All 130 crore Indians are our family. We are one... We should not blame the entire community for the mistakes of a few individuals. People who are more mature in both communities should come forward and start a dialogue to remove prejudices among people’s minds.” He sends a powerful message of solidarity and asks people to rise above sectarian divides.

Bhagwat didn’t say anything pathbreaking or new, but the weight of his words lies in the fact that the Sangh, today, is ideologically, culturally, sociologically and even politically the most dominant cultural organisation in India. It is ideologically ascendant, culturally embedded and remains sociologically relevant.

And the position that it enjoys today is the culmination of decades of working with people, staying connected and attaching itself intrinsically with every stratum of Indian society. For instance, to battle the current crisis, RSS through its different organisations have initiated a massive countrywide effort. As Bhagwat said during the recent address: “More than three lakh dedicated volunteers are working at more than 55,000 locations across the country. The RSS, through its network, distributed over 33 lakh ration kits and two crore food packets till April 24. We have to work for others without taking any credit…”.

In New Delhi, the RSS unit has been distributing 1.3 lakh food packets every day including among transgenders and sex workers and have employed 4,500 cadres to carry out the task (with administrative approval).

Its Karnataka unit had pressed 8,404 volunteers into service to distribute 71,667 ration kits, 1,04,377 food packets and collect 721 units of blood from donors. The data is updated till 6 April. There is reportedly 52 kitchen running in Delhi alone.

Not just the pandemic, the organisation acts as first responders during any national crisis and executes its tasks on a mass scale. This makes the RSS more influential than any other organization in India and in terms of power, orders of magnitude stronger than its detractors.

An example of this unique power can be ascertained from the fact that — as professor Makarand R Paranjpe writes in The Print — “despite nearly a hundred years of negative propaganda and relentless battering”, RSS is “not only alive and well but in great spirits and fighting fit.” The RSS is “no longer ‘untouchable’. Instead, it had become one of India’s most significant organisations, playing a vital role in shaping the nation’s destiny.”

The RSS recognises that its strength lies in staying connected to the people, and it understands that any shift in collective mindset can only be done through conversation, engagement and persuasion over a long period of time. Calling ordinary people “bigots” for holding certain views will serve to only alienate them and harden their beliefs. The RSS understands the conservative moorings of Indian culture and the civilisational ethos in which it is rooted. This ethos runs across the length and breadth of the nation despite many cleavages of class, caste, community and ethnicity. The RSS coopts people, works with them, becomes a part of their daily lives and tries to bring systemic changes in thought through persuasion.

The goal of RSS has always been both macro and micro — unify the nation, strengthen its moral fibre and engineer India’s economic and spiritual revival by stressing on the character of the individual. The RSS believes in a Hindu Rashtra and works relentlessly towards its goal but this is not a project of religious supremacy. As Bhagwat had said in 2018 during a three-day outreach event in New Delhi: “Hindu Rashtra does not mean it has no place for Muslims. The day it is said that Muslims are unwanted here, the concept of Hindutva will cease to exist”.

This is where the organisation remains misunderstood, misconstrued and relentlessly vilified by the ‘liberal’ circle both in India and abroad. The RSS remains committed to its goal of ‘one nation’ and ‘one culture’ but the concept of Hindu Rashtra is not a monotheistic, supremacist attempt to degrade Muslims and turn them into second-class citizens. The ‘Hindu Rashtra’ is a cultural and a geographical construct that has room for all, and space for disagreements. As Bhagwat had said in the lecture, RSS respects “the sentiments of those who wish to be called “Bharatiya” and not Hindu.”

Importantly, this is not a recent shift in RSS ideology. If MS Golwalker, the successor to RSS founder KV Hedgewar, had a hardline approach towards religious minorities, the shift towards a more liberal view and expansion of RSS horizons occurred right after Golwalker, through the ‘Deoras doctrine’ propounded by Golwalker’s successor Madhukar Dattatreya, or Balasaheb Deoras.

Deoras stated: “We do believe in the one-culture and one-nation Hindu Rashtra. But our definition of Hindu is not limited to any particular kind of faith. Our definition of Hindu includes those who believe in the one-culture and one-nation theory of this country. They can all form part of the Hindu-Rashtra. So, by Hindu we do not mean any particular type of faith. We use the word Hindu in a broader sense.”

In 2002, then sarsanghchalak KS Sudarshan established the Muslim Rashtriya Manch to work for improved Hindu-Muslim relations. While Golwalker’s views on Muslims — which came at a particular time in the nation’s history — have been used as a convenient beating stick against the RSS, we must take note of Bhagwat’s recent comments where he stated clearly that Golwalker’s policy positions were “not eternal”.

“Things are said due to circumstances and in a particular context. Wo shashwat nahin hein (They are not eternal),” Bhagwat had said during the lecture in 2018.

Therefore, when Bhagwat warns against stigmatising and blaming Muslims over the “mistakes of a few”, he is not merely doubling down on the liberal nature of RSS philosophy and exposing vilification campaigns against the organization as that arising from insufficient understanding and prejudice, he is also laying down a charter of approach for the wider public. Since the RSS is the closest to an ecclesiastical command of sorts for Hindus — in an extremely loose sense of the term — any such attempt to mitigate ill-will between communities is likely to have a deeper impact. Bhagwat’s comments couldn’t have come at a more opportune time.

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mubal4 · 6 years ago

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Javelina Jundred – Race Wrap Up

Well, it was a pretty unique race to say the least. My first experiencing running 100 miles last year was much different. A point to point, from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon in the AZ high country, with a total of about 50 racers. To this past weekend, a total of about 600 runners, a looped course, a nutty halfway point aid station, costumes, a party scene at the start/finish line, in the Sonoran Desert. Couldn’t really have been much closer to completely opposite, but, at the end, it was the same, we finished the race in a day, and I came out as a different person than what I started. Of course, many thanks to https://www.aravaiparunning.com/ for putting on an amazing event. To all the aid station volunteers, medical staff, safety folks and hundreds of help throughout the entire weekend, we appreciate it all. To the incredible participants, no matter what distant you ran, or toed the line for, congratulations on showing up and getting outside of your comfort zone; it was a pleasure sharing the day and night with so many of you. To Jimmy Dean, Todd, Jeff, and Andrew, who I all spent some time with on the course, thank you for keeping me going and, it was such a pleasure sharing some miles with you. You guys are incredible. To the dude dressed up as a devil, yes there were many folks in costumes, including Fred Flintstone, actually carrying a makeshift car around, but the dude dressed as the devil, that took some hallucinogenic aids prior to start, that laughed straight while we were running for about a mile, hope you finished safe, together, and mentally stable 😊!!! Yikes! It was an experience all together. The folks dressed in costume where a trip; the party going on at Jackass Junction and Javelina Jeadquarters was refreshing each time I passed it by, keep you going. You didn’t want to stay too long at either and get sucked it, but you did want to take a minute and soak up the experience a bit; was weird, exciting, freaky, and fun. Shared a number of laughs throughout the 100 miles with many people.

The biggest bit of gratitude, of course, goes out to the best crew out there, and, hands down, the best damn pacer in the ultra-community. I will begin with Isabella, my eldest daughter, although she was back east for her birthday weekend, she set an alarm, to wake up at 815am PA time to call me, 515am AZ time, before the race started to wish me the best. Something has to be said about your 15-year-old daughter making that sacrifice; may not mean much to others but meant the world to me. She even made it back Monday morning to celebrate her birthday with her Godfather (aka best pacer) Bryan Shane and I; at least for a few hours before she crashed the rest of the day. I guess she was tired from the long weekend……. Bryan and I had no sympathy 😊!!! To my youngest daughter Alaina, I am so proud of you. She hung out Friday night for a few hours and then was back to see my finish my first loop, Saturday morning and didn’t leave our basecamp until after 1am Sunday morning; only to come back by 630am to watch us finish it up. Not a complaint, from what I was told, the entire time. She got me food, water, and clothes when I came in each loop and was a breath of fresh air each time I got to see her.

Robin – no matter what shape I might be during these races, you are my rock. So steady, even, and calm and I know, you know, the shit that I am processing. And, you make it seem like, “cool, get some fluids, food, body good……. great, see you in a couple of hours.” No bullshit just get to work and that is what I am so grateful for, with you, during these races, and, in many times life. You help me understand not to make it more than what it is, and that is running 100 miles. We knew what we were out there to do, we knew we had plenty of time to get it done, and, you were making sure we were focused on getting it done, not anything more. In these moments, when my mind may not be clear and focused on the task, you bring it perspective. Thanks for all the sacrifices you continue to invest into this sport and me. I see it, I understand it, and I am grateful for it.

Bryan – what can I say brother, we got another one under our belt, wasn’t pretty all the time but we have another story to tell. Your support at base camp was remarkable, and, even though at the moment when you were inflicting tremendous pain and discomfort rolling out my legs, it/you kept me going. You ensured I was getting what I needed, when I needed it, and knew where my mind was. Having you there, someone that understands this shit as much as you do, is a difference maker. On the trail, we had our moments of laughter, smiles, and fun. There were moments of silence, suck, and suffering. An incredible sunset, moonrise, and sunrise (twice 😉). We had some of our deep conversations, like we sometimes do, about the kids, life, how grateful we are, and the journey that we are so blessed to be on. Having you to be able to share these moments with, as I said in the texts leading up to it, “it’s special.”

For me, having these four (sort of) to share this type of experience is amazing. Listen, I did 6 ultra-marathons’ in 2018 and the 100-mile distance is a special, special experience. Now, this was only my 2nd, but I have been fortunate enough to share it with the same crew (minus a few folks….). There are always special moments and events we can be fortunate to share with those we love. However, when you have the opportunity to combine something you are incredibly passionate about, that has the ability to push you beyond thresholds, and share that experience with so many that you love, well, that is pretty friggin special!!!!! How great is that? As I write this, the experience still hasn’t set in, but I do feel a bigger sense of fulfillment this year than last. I made a commitment this year, to let it soak in; to enjoy it; and to really, really reflect and appreciate what we did. It is a big deal and sometimes, I am not good at giving myself enough credit. I am making a point this time to do it.

I will share though, for all the stuff that I am grateful for with the race, it was a grind, and I am truly, truly grateful for that!! Maybe a little off statement, right? But it was, from about mile 18 on, all those things you expect to have happen in an ultra, well, they happened, in some form. It started w/ the knees, then the quads, then the hips and then the calves; and for most of the race I was battling something with the stomach, that just wasn’t right. So, most of the race, there were no surprises. Even after 80 miles, when the bottoms of my feet, and most of my toes, began blistering, I still wasn’t surprised. Sure, it hurt, there was pain, and I even bitched a bit to Bryan and then we just laughed it off, because, no matter what was going on with my body, which, again, wasn’t out of the ordinary for this type of race, I didn’t let my mind sit in a valley for more than a second. Yes, climbing a technical section with blisters on your feet, rocks shifting, sucked; wanting to run and your legs just not listening to your mind is incredibly frustrating; trying everything you’ve heard and learned to get your stomach to settled with nothing working can be a bitch, it they were all as they sound; but we acknowledge it, and we pushed it away, made it to the next aid station, and kept moving forward. Overall, it wasn’t terrible, because again, there were no surprises. I guess the blisters were a bit out of the ordinary since over the last year, I haven’t had an issue there but, it has been a year since I went this distance. But the frustrations didn’t linger and that is the mental part. I had mentioned last week, I was taking the time to focus on the mental part of the race and that investment helped. Last week, I knew there was going to be shit that I was going to have to overcome. By running through some of those scenarios, and most of them we covered, I was prepared to handle them. Even the heat, I think it was in the high 80’s maybe, it hit 90 and that is one of the big factors that causes so many to drop in this race. Hell, of the 600+ to start, 360 finished, just over 50%. From 1030am to about 4pm it was hot, but we knew what we had to do; ice on the neck, keep the body cold with ice wherever you can, ice in the bottles, and ice-cold sponge baths at each station. I think we did a good job keeping the body cooled and stating hydrated. So much so that when the sun went down it got a little chilly. You will see in the picture me with some long sleeves on for the last 20 miles.

This was special because of whom I got to share it with; but it was also special because, no matter what the son-of-a-bitch through at us, we pushed through it. I remember, at a point where I was battling through something, I was talking about “the plan” and Bryan said, “a plan is always great until you get punched in the face.” That was a giggle moment 😊!!! But that is exactly the point. Last week I talked about having a plan, but I knew it was going to get tossed out the window. And, true to the ultramarathon stigma, I got punched in the face……………………But, we punched back, and kept moving forward. There are so many moving parts to finishing a 100-mile race; so many things will go wrong and so much shit will inevitably happen. Having put in the work, having the right team with you, having the right mindset, and being grateful can take you a long way, appreciating where you are, at each step, when that plan goes south and letting go of what’s to come, helps you enjoy the journey so much more; and, is a much better story to tell.

“All of life is an ultramarathon.” – Moe Beaulieu

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latestnews2018-blog · 6 years ago

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It’s OK to leave Facebook

New Post has been published on https://latestnews2018.com/its-ok-to-leave-facebook/

It’s OK to leave Facebook

The slow-motion privacy train wreck that is Facebook has many users, perhaps you, thinking about leaving or at least changing the way you use the social network. Fortunately for everyone but Mark Zuckerberg, it’s not nearly has hard to leave as it once was. The main thing to remember is that social media is for you to use, and not vice versa.

Social media has now become such an ordinary part of modern life that, rather than have it define our interactions, we can choose how we engage with it. That’s great! It means that everyone is free to design their own experience, taking from it what they need instead of participating to an extent dictated by social norms or the progress of technology.

Here’s why now is a better time than ever to take control of your social media experience. I’m going to focus on Facebook, but much of this is applicable to Instagram, Twitter, LinkedIn, and other networks as well.

Stalled innovation means a stable product

The Facebooks of 2005, 2010, and 2015 were very different things and existed in very different environments. Among other things over that eventful ten-year period, mobile and fixed broadband exploded in capabilities and popularity; the modern world of web-native platforms matured and became secure and reliable; phones went from dumb to smart to, for many, their primary computer; and internet-based companies like Google, Facebook, and Amazon graduated from niche players to embrace and dominate the world at large.

It’s been a transformative period for lots of reasons and in lots of ways. And products and services that have been there the whole time have been transformed almost continuously. You’d probably be surprised at what they looked like and how limited they were not long ago. Many things we take for granted today online were invented and popularized just in the last decade.

But the last few years have seen drastically diminished returns. Where Facebook used to add features regularly that made you rely on it more and more, now it is desperately working to find ways to keep people online. Why is that?

Well, we just sort of reached the limit of what a platform like Facebook can or should do, that’s all! Nothing wrong with that.

It’s like improving a car — no matter how many features you add or engines you swap in, it’ll always be a car. Cars are useful things, and so is Facebook. But a car isn’t a truck, or a bike, or an apple, and Facebook isn’t (for example) a broadcast medium, a place for building strong connections, or a VR platform (as hard as they’re trying).

The things that Facebook does well and that we have all found so useful — sharing news and photos with friends, organizing events, getting and staying in contact with people — haven’t changed considerably in a long time. And as the novelty has worn off those things, we naturally engage in them less frequently and in ways that make more sense to us.

Facebook has become the platform it was intended to be all along, with its own strengths and weaknesses, and its failure to advance beyond that isn’t a bad thing. In fact, I think stability is a good thing. Once you know what something is and will be, you can make an informed choice about it.

The downsides have become obvious

Every technology has its naysayers, and social media was no exception — I was and to some extent remain one myself. But over the years of changes these platforms have gone through, some fears were shown to be unfounded or old-fashioned.

The idea that people would cease interacting in the “real world” and live in their devices has played out differently from how we expected, surely; trying to instruct the next generation on the proper way to communicate with each other has never worked out well for the olds. And if you told someone in 2007 that foreign election interference would be as much a worry for Facebook as oversharing and privacy problems, you might be met with incredulous looks.

Other downsides were for the most part unforeseen. The development of the bubble or echo chamber, for instance, would have been difficult to predict when our social media systems weren’t also our news-gathering systems. And the phenomenon of seeing only the highlights of others’ lives posted online, leading to self esteem issues in those who view them with envy, is an interesting but sad development.

Whether some risk inherent to social media was predicted or not, or proven or not, people now take such risks seriously. The ideas that one can spend too much time on social networks, or suffer deleterious effects from them, or feel real pain or turmoil because of interactions on them are accepted (though sadly not always without question).

Taking the downsides of something as seriously as the upsides is another indicator of the maturity of that thing, at least in terms of how society interacts with it. When the hype cycle winds down, realistic judgment takes its place and the full complexities of a relationship like the one between people and social media can be examined without interference.

Between the stability of social media’s capabilities and the realism with which those capabilities are now being considered, choice is no longer arbitrary or absolute. Your engagement is not being determined by them any more.

Social media has become a rich set of personal choices

Your experience may differ from mine here, but I feel that in those days of innovation among social networks your participation was more of a binary. You were either on or you were off.

The way they were advancing and changing defined how you engaged with them by adding and opting you into features, or changing layouts and algorithms. It was hard to really choose how to engage in any meaningful way when the sands were shifting under your feet (or rather, fingertips). Every few months brought new features and toys and apps, and you sort of had to be there, using them as proscribed, or risk being left behind. So people either kept up or voluntarily stayed off.

Now all that has changed. The ground rules are set, and have been for long enough that there is no risk that if you left for a few months and come back, things would be drastically different.

As social networks have become stable tools used by billions, any combination or style of engagement with them has become inherently valid.

Your choice to engage with Facebook or Instagram does not boil down to simply whether you are on it or not any more, and the acceptance of social media as a platform for expression and creation as well as socializing means that however you use it or present on it is natural and no longer (for the most part) subject to judgment.

That extends from choosing to make it an indispensable tool in your everyday life to quitting and not engaging at all. There’s no longer an expectation that the former is how a person must use social media, and there is no longer a stigma to the latter of disconnectedness or Luddism.

You and I are different people. We live in different places, read different books, enjoy different music. We drive different cars, prefer different restaurants, like different drinks. Why should we be the same in anything as complex as how we use and present ourselves on social media?

It’s analogous, again, to a car: you can own one and use it every day for a commute, or use it rarely, or not have one at all — who would judge you? It has nothing to do with what cars are or aren’t, and everything to do with what a person wants or needs in the circumstances of their own life.

For instance, I made the choice to remove Facebook from my phone over a year ago. I’m happier and less distracted, and engage with it deliberately, on my terms, rather than it reaching out and engaging me. But I have friends who maintain and derive great value from their loose network of scattered acquaintances, and enjoy the immediacy of knowing and interacting with them on the scale of minutes or seconds. And I have friends who have never been drawn to the platform in the first place, content to select from the myriad other ways to stay in touch.

These are all perfectly good ways to use Facebook! Yet only a few years ago the zeitgeist around social media and its exaggerated role in everyday life — resulting from novelty for the most part — meant that to engage only sporadically would be more difficult, and to disengage entirely would be to miss out on a great deal (or fear that enough that quitting became fraught with anxiety). People would be surprised that you weren’t on Facebook and wonder how you got by.

Try it and be delighted

Social networks are here to improve your life the same way that cars, keyboards, search engines, cameras, coffee makers, and everything else are: by giving you the power to do something. But those networks and the companies behind them were also exerting power over you and over society in general, the way (for example) cars and car makers exerted power over society in the ’50s and ’60s, favoring highways over public transportation.

Some people and some places, more than others, are still subject to the influence of car makers — ever try getting around L.A. without one? And the same goes for social media — ever try planning a birthday party without it? But the last few years have helped weaken that influence and allow us to make meaningful choices for ourselves.

The networks aren’t going anywhere, so you can leave and come back. Social media doesn’t control your presence.

It isn’t all or nothing, so you can engage at 100 percent, or zero, or anywhere in between. Social media doesn’t decide how you use it.

You won’t miss anything important, because you decide what is important to you. Social media doesn’t share your priorities.

Your friends won’t mind, because they know different people need different things. Social media doesn’t care about you.

Give it a shot. Pick up your phone right now and delete Facebook. Why not? The absolute worst that will happen is you download it again tomorrow and you’re back where you started. But it could also be, as it was for me and has been for many people I’ve known, like shrugging off a weight you didn’t even realize you were bearing. Try it.

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