#the message of 'some people can be so broken from their abuse that it's better for them to just die' is uhhh

[girlactionfigure]

HURT - DON'T HEAL THE ANTISEMITE

The attempt to disabuse the world of antisemitism has been a monumental failure. 

Despite decades of educational outreach things are the worst they’ve ever been. 

The hatred against us is at fever pitch and from multiple fronts. 

The alleged gains that have been made teaching the world about the Holocaust and antisemitism have not been worth the investment of time, energy and resources. 

The facts speak for themself. 

We are in the most precarious position any of us have ever experienced, with most of us wondering where our future lies.

To increase our safety we need a new approach.

This new approach requires us to stop projecting our Jewish belief in education onto the world. We need to stop expecting the world to react in the same way we do to the facts, reason and appeals for compassion we present. We need to stop assuming antisemites are simply ignorant and must confront the truth that they simply hate us and that they enjoy hating us.

We need to make this a less enjoyable pastime for them.

The future of Jewish safety is not in teaching the world to be better people - but in teaching them to watch their step. We need to stop attempting to teach our haters to be nice to us, but rather teach them there’s a cost to their transgressions. Putting it bluntly: we need to teach the world that we will fuck up anyone who tries to hurt us. That is the lesson we need to be pushing. It matters not one jot that they know where antisemitism leads for the Jews. We need to show them where antisemitism leads for them, the perpetrators of antisemitism. They don’t need to know what happened to the Jews in Auschwitz so much as they need to know what happened to the Nazis. They need to know the Nazis got fucked up, killed and destroyed. They need to know that Germany got levelled, destroyed and went up in flames. They need to know that German bodies and minds got broken beyond recognition. Antisemites need to know what happens to the antisemite - not the Jew. And we need to show them.

Those who attempt to kill us must be neutralised - and perpetrators of antisemitic speech and action need to have their lives attacked and diminished so that they experience the greatest personal cost we can extract. They need to suffer consequences to their reputations and their livelihoods. They must be shamed, exposed, humiliated, damaged and degraded. They must experience emotional and mental discomfort. The law must be used to punish them. They must lose their freedom if applicable. Whatever means is available to hurt them should be used to the fullest extent. Their suffering must be harsh and without pity and serve as a deterrent to others. If others don’t pay heed to that deterrent - then they must also suffer. And it must be without pity.

Do we risk antisemites not liking us?

They already hate us. 

Now let them fear us.

And some of you must stop this narcissistic impulse to want to redeem your abusers. This has nothing to with making the world better. It’s about satisfying your saviour complex and making you feel self-righteous. Stop prioritising your abusers. That in itself is a symptom of the abuse you’ve experienced. You have every right to prioritise yourself. Your abuser has not earned a right to your ongoing time and energy. 

Furthermore, trying to generate a couple of feel good stories about an antisemite turned good is an inefficient use of our resources - something we can ill afford when so many active enemies must be thwarted.

It also sends the wrong message. There is no deterrent if they know abusing us is a revolving door that offers them automatic reputational rehabilitation. 

Let’s hurt our haters and move on.

Let it be seen they have been hurt.

We need to stop educating people to like us. We need to teach them to fear us. We need to show them we are mean, nasty and will inflict pain without remorse. 

We need to hurt antisemites - not heal them.

Do some of you feel a little anxious hearing this kind of talk?

Does a Jew being aggressive and spiteful make you feel uncomfortable and anxious?

Good.

That’s how our enemies should feel.

Maybe then they’ll think twice about fucking with us.

LEE KERN

#EndJewHatred #antisemitism #jewish #jew

[saerins]

PREV: #002 PLAYING DOMINO 𖧧 #003 THE FIRST RIPPLE 𖧧 NEXT: #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — ever since the first meeting, you’ve proven to be an anomaly. and yet again, sae finds himself out of character, doing things he didn’t think he would.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. angst/fluff, profanity, physical/verbal abuse, violence, mentions of infidelity, broken homes, unrequited love, manipulation/gaslighting. word count: 6.7k

༝༚༝༚ more yn and sae for this chapter yay !! ty to all of you who are reading this heh mwah you guys are my motivation <3 let’s hope i keep this pace up so some of you can get the tea faster :p

somehow, the fact that you’d managed to help land an interview with itoshi sae has given you some perks at work. (you’d let sumi take the credit for it, but considering your voice is on the recording, it was hard to deny your involvement.) the best of it all? sumi’s right; mr tatsuji is so absolutely pleased that he barely bothers to visit your department to chide any of you.

that way, at least if your personal life is a mess, your career is not. (for now.)

after three days of staying over at eita’s, you’re finally lugging your feet back home today. besides, he has a date and you’re not about to play third wheel when he inevitably comes home with her.

that’s otoya eita for you.

he insisted that it’s fine and if he really wanted to get some that he’d bring her to a hotel, but you’d really rather not get used to putting up at someone else’s house. especially when, technically, you do have a place to stay.

as you unwillingly (and slowly, painachingly) trudge back to your apartment, you can’t help but revisit your messages with sae. ever since you told him you’d let him follow you if he made a private account, he hasn’t responded since.

were you just in over your head? maybe he was just bored and was passing time by texting you. maybe he didn’t really mean it. maybe someone else took his phone and texted you just to make fun of you. 

time to time, you still think of the night you met, how his eyes fluttered close, how he stayed rooted in position, how you would’ve actually done it out of curiosity if it wasn’t for the fact that it was a public place with cameras littering every few inches of space.

you sigh, locking your phone and tossing it back in your purse. in the end, maybe itoshi sae really is just someone for you to admire from afar. maybe that’s for the best; you can’t imagine how it’d even feel like dating someone who has such a big spotlight cast on him.

the evening air is chilly, the lights of the nearby shopping mall a warm golden, the sea of people walking past you soon to drown out. if you didn’t know better, you’d think you’re living a privileged life—being able to live in such a nice district, with a better-than-average apartment that had been fully paid for since you were born. and if life had been kind to you, then maybe you’d like living at home more than you do now.

but as it is, going home only serves as a reminder to all your problems. unescapable, unavoidable, unbearable. and maybe it’s not such a good move for you to depend on eita a lot to be your escape, to help you forget about all of it, at least when you’re with him, but you can’t help it. escapism feels nice. it’s nice to be around someone who knows about it and still accepts you, even though you and him don’t see eye to eye about it most of the time. 

your stomach’s growling, and the macarons at the bakery’s display that you walk past are both nostalgic and tempting. but you can’t afford that.

something as simple as a box of macarons.

hang in there for the long term, you tell yourself. one day, you’ll get everything back. 

not ten minutes later, you’re at your own doorstep, hesitating to even enter. through the door you can hear the sound of the television. it’s loud and playing some drama that always airs at this timing. you’ve heard the same voices so many times before.

it’s funny to think that these sounds used to feel like home to you.

either way, you have to get this over and done with, so you slot your key in and walk through the door, carefully toeing off your shoes as though being quiet would make you escape her notice.

“and where did you go off to the last few days? can’t even come home and be a dutiful daughter and eat with her own mother?”

it hasn’t even been five seconds. 

all that ever awaits you at home now is the vile spit of your mother’s. it’s laughable because all she says is nonsense. you haven’t eaten on the same table together in years, even if you have been living under the same roof.

some part of you can’t help but be defiant. you know it’s a bad idea, but she’s out of line, and yet you’re still helping her. and you can’t figure out why.

“how about you be a dutiful mother and stop spending all your daughter’s money and go find a job?”

there’s a sharp sound that bounces off the walls of the living room quicker than you can expect it, and it takes you five seconds and the sting on your cheek to realise your mother had just slapped you with all her might.

not an ounce of hesitation or regret. there is only fury in her eyes as she looks down at you, summoning every bit of disdain she can muster. 

of course, how could you forget? this is what you get for talking back to her. it’s been a while since she’d last laid a hand on you, so maybe you’d gotten cocky, thinking she wouldn’t do it again.

“is this all you’re good for? you’re not using that filthy mouth to jack people off so you’re using it to spite me?”

there’s a lot you want to say.

you want to talk back to her again, to say that she’s the useless one out of the two of you. the one who doesn’t work yet gambles all day. the one who spent all the savings and insurance money so she’s fully depending on you month to month.

you want to tell her that you’re not some whore who goes around fucking everyone you see. she always hated eita, but that’s because he knows she’s no good. that’s also why you never tell him if she lays her hand on you. you don’t want to get them into any altercations. you also want to tell her eita’s taken better care of you than she ever has, and you don’t even have to jack him off for it.

but you stay silent.

because silence is the most comfortable you can get with her. no matter what you say or do, it will never suffice for her. she wants money, and she’s only angry because you haven’t been home to give it to her. it’s why you lock your own door every time you head out or go to sleep. you don’t want to find your own belongings gone by the time you’re back. neither do you want to find her snooping around your room in the middle of the night.

both of which have happened before.

taking advantage of your shock, she yanks your purse out of your hand, fishing for your wallet and grabbing all the cash she can find before tossing it back to you.

there’s no mercy in her eyes as she glares at her own daughter, the one she carried herself in her womb for nine whole months and once sworn to love. and now she blames the same little girl for ruining her body and refuses to take responsibility for her.

“listen, be a good girl and just give me what i ask for okay?” her tone is nothing but condescending and threatening. “if you’d just behave yourself, i wouldn’t have to do shit like that. think a little, would you?”

the demon that is your mother speaks as if you’re in the wrong, sighing to herself as she lights a cigarette and walks away, stuffing your hard-earned money in her purse before making for her room and slamming the door as she completely disposes of you for the day. she already got what she wanted, after all.

utterly defeated, you completely forget about your hunger, retreating into your room, locking the door behind you and falling to the floor. your vision blurs and your cheek still stings. you wonder if it’ll leave a mark like it did the last time.

your phone vibrates once.

blurry vision aside, you can tell it’s eita from the name alone. his talk to me if you need anything, okay? is bright on your phone screen, the only light in this room because you don’t have the energy to turn on the lights. you’re not feeling exceptionally hopeful today. the dark seems just right.

you’re thankful that you have a friend like him. you probably don’t deserve how nice he is to you. but you don’t want to talk to him. you don’t think you want to talk to anyone.

maybe just one person.

but he’s six foot under and inaccessible to you.

you’re not sure when you made it onto your bed—your head’s a mess. it always is when you speak to her. that’s why you scream into the pillow, willing your energy away, trying to drown your thoughts with your voice, dreaming of the day you can break free from this cycle.

thunder, pitter patter, raindrops against the windowsill.

the lightning helps you make out the time from the clock on the wall above your door. 

1am. your lips are chapped and the tears are dry against your cheeks. you’d subconsciously slept on the right side, your left still aching from earlier.

slowly, you get up, legs crossed and sitting on your bed, your earlier distress dissipated just slightly, mind a little clearer. (and always questionable.) your phone’s dead and you honestly don’t really care—what you do care about is your stomach’s incessant growling.

it wouldn’t take a genius to know that your mother cleared out all the food in the kitchen. it looked barren earlier from what you could see, maybe just a couple slices of bread and some condiments. you wouldn’t want to start cooking in the middle of the night either, lest she wakes up and you have even more to deal with.

the rain starts to lighten up by the time you’re out of the house, comfortable in your oversized windbreaker. you walk slowly, your slides already soaked from walking in the rain. it’s a nice cooling temperature, the wind in your face making you feel refreshed, like everything that’s horrible could be just a dream.

if only.

a light ten-minute walk later, you’re browsing through the aisles of the convenience store, wondering which brand of processed food is worthy to be your dinner. you hover between the cup noodles on the shelves and the sandwiches in the chiller, taking your time because home is not a place you’re exactly aching to go back to.

can you even call it a home at this point?

eventually, you waltz out of there with a warm tub of noodles, palms relishing in its warmth and your nose inhaling every last bit of its aroma.

dinner could be better, but you suppose you can’t complain when you’re trying your best to save up. after all, it’ll be a pain if your mother figures out the stash of savings you’re hiding. the last thing you want is for her to steal that away from you. then how would you ever move out on your own?

shaking your head as you settle down on a park bench on the opposite side of the road, you decide to throw those thoughts aside for now. it’s not a current problem that you need to mull over right now and destroy your mood. no, right now, what you need is just a peaceful night.

what’s past (earlier) is past.

even though it’s easier said than done when your tears start flowing one by one, and suddenly these noodles are saltier than you remember.

“sure you can’t come?”

sae looks at bianca through the passenger side window, her pout ever present. “nah, i’m tired. besides, if i oversleep who’s gonna drive you to the airport, huh?”

bianca grins at him, seemingly pacified. she reaches a hand into the car, perfectly manicured nails in full view before she clenches it into a fist, holding just a pinky out. “promise you’ll see me off tomorrow?”

there’s something between the lines that sae doesn’t get, nor is he sure he wants to. in all honesty, he’s not even sure why a promise is wanted here but he sticks out his pinky all the same anyway, because he’s pretty sure he won’t miss the alarm when it rings.

“yay, see you!”

“see you,” sae echoes as she bounds towards her friend’s place, ready for a last night of catching up over a game of cards before she flies back to america. as she disappears from his view, he wonders why she even tried to invite him in the first place. they’re her friends, he’s not really needed there anyway.

tuning out of those thoughts, sae drives off, already planning the remainder of the night. it’s 1am, and it’ll be near two by the time he makes it back to his apartment. that leaves him around a six hour sleep before he has to get up and send bianca off.

now that he’s thinking about it, since when has it become routine for him to send her off every time?

before he can even gather his thoughts about it, he steps on the brakes abruptly, wondering what the hell is wrong with some people to not be looking at both sides of the road before they cross, nearly pressing on the honk before something tells him not to. it’s distracting; the fact that the passing silhouette looks familiar and yet not at all.

against his better judgement, he pulls over by the side of the road, deciding to trust his gut. it’s late at night and there’s no reason for it but is that really you sitting on a park bench eating cup noodles past one in the morning? alone?

sae steps out of the car, mask on, pulling his hat down and his hoodie over his head to conceal himself, though some might argue he looks like he’s about to kidnap someone like this. he’s painfully aware this is dumb, and there’s no point to this, because what if it is you? it’s not like he has any reason to talk to you.

he stops midway, checking his phone and scrolling to your messages, his okay still sitting in the text box, unsent. fuck, he didn’t even realise until now. it didn’t help that he had a hectic schedule back to back for the past few days either. he never got around to creating that private account. he’ll just have to do it later.

a fleeting thought comes to him, wondering if you thought he was just pulling your leg about wanting to follow you. sure seems like it to him.

but he continues walking towards that park bench, towards that girl he thinks might be you, without knowing whatsoever what his next move will be. all he knows is that if that really is you, he’d rather say hello than say nothing at all.

even if it means making a detour that would undoubtedly make him endlessly tired the next day. for some reason.

and call him crazy, but as he draws closer, even without seeing your face, he knows it’s you somehow.

there’s something off about you, he doesn’t know what it is yet, but he can feel it. maybe he’ll find out. maybe he’ll try.

“hey, rude girl.”

just by the way your body stiffens up, he knows you recognise his voice. you choke on your noodles, coughing a little and rubbing your face before you whip your head upwards to face him, your eyes going wide with surprise.

“itoshi sae?”

why doesn’t he like it when you call him by his full name? it sounds weird, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“what are you doing here? do you live in the area?” you ask, setting your almost-empty cup of noodle on the bench. your voice is a little hoarse than he remembers, and your eyes are slightly puffy. there’s a faint swollenness on your left cheek, something he can see you’re desperately trying to hide behind your hair. it’s not really working.

he shakes his head, hands in his jacket pocket. “no, i was just dropping my friend off.” his eyes shift from you to the noodles. “supper?”

sae notices your eyebrow twitch ever so slightly, your nostrils flaring a little before you grin at him. “yeah, i missed lunch so this is me making up for it,” you giggle, offering a thumbs up.

is it bad to say he doesn’t believe you? you’re alone in the middle of the night on a park bench eating instant noodles with a slightly swollen cheek. yet you’re in front of him acting like nothing’s wrong.

this is already far from what he’d usually do. if you were anyone else, he would’ve just drove past and forgotten in a few days that he ever saw them. but as it is, here he is, standing in front of you, car parked illegally by the curb, just to verify that it really is you for no apparent reason.

still, he’s glad he did. you look like you’ve gotten a year’s worth of bad news judging by the state you’re in. and sae usually doesn’t cater to people, expects people to tell him what they need, not make him guess, but he’s already guessing what you might need.

your stomach is still growling, though you’re trying to hide it by slumping on the bench, arms over your stomach. sae has no idea why you feel like you have to hide, or who probably slapped you in the first place, but he finds himself disposing of your noodles before he’s grabbing you gently by the hand, tugging you along with him.

“hey, uh, where are we going?”

despite your shallow hesitation, sae feels your fingers curl around his palm. his heart skips a beat. he stops in his tracks, turning back around to face you. there’s an inexplicable emotion stirring inside him when he looks into your eyes.

his free hand comes up to remove his cap, putting it over your head and pushing it down to fit better. he doesn’t have a mask for you, but it’ll do. something tells him you don’t really want other people to see your face right now. and while the circumstances are different, he supposes he understands how it feels.

maybe you think he’s doing this because he’d rather not be papped with a girl, rather not have any more dating rumours. he’ll let you keep thinking that. he’ll keep acting like he doesn’t see the wound you’re desperately trying to hide.

for now.

“i’m hungry, eat with me,” is all he tells you before he resumes dragging you along behind him, calloused hands wrapping over your own.

sae’s not hungry in the least. he’d eaten probably three meals worth of food with bianca before this since she’d dragged him to a korean barbecue joint.

but you’re hungry. you’re starving and you’re not acting like it and you don’t say a thing about it—he doesn’t really get you.

he wants to.

maybe that’s why he’s doing all this. maybe that’s why he lets you in his car, drives to an izakaya he knows all too well. maybe that’s why he keeps stealing glances at you in the car, and maybe that’s why he feels a little warm inside when he catches you smiling to yourself.

as you sit silently beside him as he drives, your fingers fiddle nervously with each other. never did you think that you’d end up in sae’s luxurious car tonight of all nights. as if it wasn’t apparent enough before, after seeing his car, this definitely looks like a life that’s far beyond your reach.

you wonder if sae is the type of person who likes cars. it’s never indicated anywhere if he is. you recognise the brand; you don’t know the exact model but it’s a maserati, wrapped a matte black, at that. the interior leather seats are comfortable, and his air freshener smells nice.

on top of that, he’s driving you to someplace because he’s hungry too. talk about luck and coincidence.

you were thinking of just taking a short walk before going back home, but you’d take his invitation over that any day. you’re not sure where he’s taking you, but your feet are tapping in anticipation, though you hope it’s not anywhere expensive because you’re definitely not dressed the part.

beside you, sae’s not exactly dressed in anything fancy, but with looks like that? he would look expensive dressed in anything.

“quit staring,” sae mumbles, and you hurriedly avert your gaze, embarrassed at getting caught although you snicker a little when you catch the hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. “what are you laughing at?”

you try to suppress a grin, biting on your lower lip. “you’re not as uncaring as the internet makes you seem,” you ponder out loud.

sae accepts your train of thought. he’s well aware that’s how he comes off in real life too. “and?” it’s a red light so he stops the car, turning his head to look straight at you.

is he asking you what you think of him?

you feel your heart skip a beat. he’s pretty, and he’s staring at you with those clear teal eyes of his and it makes you want to drown in them for some reason. he’s not as unfeeling as he comes across, and for him to bother taking you with him just to eat must mean you don’t fall into the category of people he finds to be just a waste of time. 

you want to know what this is.

“i don’t know, you’re like a cat,” you shrug, reverting back to your unserious self. “but i’ll let you know again once i get to know you better, itoshi sae.”

he looks away, the green light barely seeping through his windows. he doesn’t understand. “if you even get that far, that is.” (he likes how you already assume you’ll get to know him more. are you looking to spend more time with him?) 

you grin, making an internal bet with yourself. “just you wait,” you tell him, confident in your abilities. “i have a habit of growing on people.”

(sae chuckles internally, because he doesn’t doubt you. you already are.)

“are you sure this place is open?” you ask, discreetly tapping lightly on your cheeks, deciding that maybe you look just fine now. and it doesn’t seem like there’s a soul here anyway.

once sae parks his car into the lot, you take his cap off and look around, the sleek stand-alone three-storey building looking completely closed on the outside. there’s no other cars parked here—surely they’re not still open?

sae takes his keys out of the ignition, stuffing it into his jacket pocket. he looks nonchalant for the most part. “don’t worry, i know the owner, let’s go.”

you shrug to yourself, placing his cap neatly on the dashboard before getting up. he waits and observes as you get out of his car, making sure you’re beside him before he starts walking towards the restaurant. you notice him matching your pace, with you shamelessly adjusting it just to check.

before he enters through the doors, he looks at you, “there’s no one else around. just the owner’s nephew who’ll be cooking for us.”

the shopkeeper’s bell chimes as he makes his way inside, holding the door for you, and you wordlessly enter, even though you’re wondering why he feels the need to tell you that. is it because you look like a mess and he thought you’d care?

it’s cosy and warm inside, classical music filling the air, every table wiped spotlessly clean that they’re shining as the lights from the ceiling bounce off of their surfaces. there’s nobody you can see here, are they in the kitchen?

sae puts his fingers around your wrist this time, walking you through the restaurant, meandering expertly like he’s been here a thousand times. your eyes fall to his fingers; they’re gentle yet firm, and you’re only hoping he doesn’t realise how fast your pulse is right now.

in the end, you find yourself seated across from him on a tatami seating in a private room, browsing through the menus that are already placed on the table.

“order anything you want,” sae says, not looking up from his menu.

you hum in excitement as you start to really look at all the options you have. “oh? if you say it like that i’m not gonna hold back, you know,” you joke around, though sae doesn’t really sense it.

he just shrugs, “sure, go ahead.”

sae ends up regretting it though, not because you’re shamelessly spending a lot on his card, but because he finds out you’re the type to over-order. by the time the food is all cooked and sent to the table, sae’s eyebrows twitch, eyes flicking over across the room to look at you, grinning from ear to ear.

“both of you must be starved, huh?”

you look to the side, only now noticing the guy in the white chef’s coat that came to deliver the food. he has curly light brown hair, with eyes a shade or two darker. a grin is plastered on his face, and by the way sae speaks to him, it seems like they know each other quite a fair bit.

“oh, by the way, this is naruhaya,” sae introduces to you, and the guy holds his hand out for you to shake. “this is y/n.”

“nice to meet you!”

naruhaya’s beaming, a contrast to sae’s usual stoic expressions, but he’s back to small talk with the latter in a second. you leave them to it, until your ears perk up when he mentions a certain model’s name.

“hey, weren’t you with bianca earlier? where’s she?”

bianca—that name isn’t unfamiliar to you. after a crash course from sumi (because somehow she decided you need to know more gossip about itoshi sae after getting to know him in person), you had learned that she’s the model that sae is most rumoured to actually be with. and you’ve seen her from the pictures sumi shoved up your neck—she’s beautiful.

was she the friend he was dropping off earlier?

“meeting her other friends. anyway, sorry to keep you open.”

naruhaya waves it off with his hand. “it’s fine, i was gonna stay and try to whip up some new recipes anyway,” he says, before shooting you a knowing look. what exactly it means, you have zero idea. “i’ll leave you two to it, enjoy!”

once he leaves, you begin to dig in, lathering your meat with sauce, unashamedly inhaling your food because that earlier stint with your mother was entirely too much and you need to destress.

somehow, with sae being as nice as he is, you feel a teeny bit guilty for trying to dupe him into that interview. but you doubt that if you’d asked him normally that you would be here with him tonight so maybe there’s some merit in being reckless like that.

“what’re you smiling about now?” sae sighs, taking a piece of meat and putting it over his rice. “pleased that you’re getting a free meal or something?”

partly. but mostly, you’re pleased that you get alone time with him somehow. maybe it’s stupid, and maybe you sound like half of the female population in the country, but you can see why people ogle over him. if they got to know him like this, then you’d have no doubt that he’d manage to charm their pants off.

though, something tells you he doesn’t treat people like this often, let alone someone he barely knows.

“mhm,” you agree, shit-eating grin on your face because there’s no way you’re going to be so upfront about it. the last thing you want is to ruin a friendship when it’s barely started.

yeah, maybe that’s what you want—friendship. is it weird if you say that itoshi sae gives you the feeling that you can trust him? the last time someone made you feel that way was eita. but somehow, this time, it feels different in a way you can’t explain.

as you’re both digging in, you ask him whatever you’re curious about; how he got into soccer, what his life was like growing up, everything under the sun, only because he entertains you like he did that very first night.

“you ask a lot of questions, are you gonna ask me to get another interview approved or something?” he asks, deadpan as he slurps up the soba.

you chuckle, shaking your head. “no. i just want to know you.”

sae stills at your honesty, this being one of the rare times you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve. thump, thump, thump—it’s weird how you make him so aware of his heartbeats when you’re with him. it’s weird how he feels the same way.

then, he sees a familiar sight, you reaching your hand out across the table, your pinky pointed towards him. “i promise you, no hidden agendas this time.”

he swallows the lump in his throat, hooking his pinky with yours before he knows it, the inexplicable emotions only growing by the second.

even though he’s curious about you too, something tells him that you won’t answer him seriously. not tonight. so he keeps it to himself. he’ll find a chance to ask you next time.

if there is a next time. 

he’ll just have to make it happen.

halfway through the dinner, you have about a quarter of the food left and sae looks like he’s about to burst. he didn’t really look hungry to you, eating slowly all the way. you probably ate at least twice as much as he did. 

“you sure you were hungry?”

“not anymore,” sae deflects, putting his chopsticks down. he looks at you, leaning back and staring at the leftovers in awe. he almost snorts from how dazed you look. “i’ll get naruhaya to pack these, wait here.”

“thanks,” you call after him, knowing just how much of a food coma you’re going to be in once you’re back home.

sae stares at his phone as he navigates through the corridors to find the kitchen; it’s already 2.30am. time passes really fast with you for some reason. usually it’s a bore to sit with people he barely knows, they normally can’t keep a conversation. either that or he doesn’t really click with them. (as evident in the many times he was put in the same room with friends of friends and all that was there is awkward silence and forced conversations.) 

not you though.

you’ve always been interesting. you’re intriguing, and a little bit more daring than he’s used to. you’re not that shy, by what he could tell when you so effortlessly reached across the table and snapped a picture of the both of you eating, telling him you want to give him something to remember you by.

as if that’s your last meeting.

he looks at the picture in his photo album. a subtle smile tugs on his lips, and there’s a flutter in his heart that he can’t seem to ignore.

maybe he’s jumping the gun but… he thinks you could be worth any amount of sleep he’s going to lose.

naruhaya enters the private room alone, armed with takeaway boxes, and you smile sheepishly at him as he does. sae must be in the bathroom if he’s here alone.

“sorry, i think i ordered a little too much,” you apologise, rubbing the back of your head. “but it’s all really delicious, really.”

it really is. you’ve never had meat so tender before, and you’re almost sad thinking you’ll probably never get to eat this again. not with the price tag on it. 

“relax, i believe you,” naruhaya hums as he carefully places the leftovers in boxes. “so, how’d you get to know sae? photoshoot?”

you narrow your gaze at him, pressing your lips into a faint smile. “if you’re trying to flatter me, it’s working,” you joke, before shaking your head. “no, no, i’m not a model. i’m just a friend of a friend.”

naruhaya blinks at you like he’s surprised. “whose?”

“eita. otoya eita. why?”

“oh, it’s nothing. just… surprised sae brought another girl here for once,” naruhaya laughs nervously, packing the boxes into a clear bag. “usually it’s either oliver and gang or, well, bianca. but i haven’t seen her here in a while, actually.”

you get the feeling that sae and bianca are really, really close. 

“i think he just came here on a whim,” you brush it off. “we only met a week ago so i doubt you’ll see me here again anyway.”

naruhaya’s mouth forms an ‘o’, before it reverts back to that knowing smile again. both of you hear footsteps against the wooden floors of the izakaya, so naruhaya takes this chance to whisper in your ear.

“i think… you must be pretty special then, huh?”

before you can even ask him what he means by that, sae strolls through the door, oblivious to the earlier conversation, gaze pointed to you. “ready to go?”

you nod, taking the bags from naruhaya as sae escorts you out of there. “bye, naruhaya! i love your cooking!”

he laughs as you wave enthusiastically to him, and he winks at you right before sae turns around to look at him. “oi, sae, bring her over anytime, okay?” to which sae only waves it off, leaving you to wonder if you’ll ever actually see naruhaya again.

“you keep those,” sae tells you after the both of you get into his car, referring to the takeaway boxes. he’d told naruhaya to give you some extra meat, just in case. if he remembered right, eita once said you have quite the appetite.

he pulls out of the parking lot after you give him your address, driving the speed limit all the way back. he’s honestly kind of tired, and he can see that you are too. won’t hurt to make it back a little quicker than you came. 

“sure you don’t want some?”

“i’m fine, i’ll be busy for the next week or so anyway. i won’t even be home.”

there’s a hint of disappointment in your chest when you hear that, though you chide yourself for your wishful thinking. what makes you think you can run into a celebrity so easily anyway if he is in japan?

“oh, you’re gonna be away? try not to miss me.”

sae chuckles, softly, at the way you can be so unserious—it’s something you hear for the first time, and you feel the flutters in your heart going wild. there’s something about the way he looks so gentle like this, away from the cameras and the public eye that makes him so much more alluring than usual.

“i’ll try,” he says, though you know he’s just playing along.

usually, you don’t feel this type of way around people. you’ve never felt like this before so you can’t even think of ways to explain it. as you sit in the passenger seat, you can’t help but feel a certain attachment growing. it makes you think foolish things like i want to see you again and wonder about even sillier things like would you want to see me too?

but you’d never actually tell him that.

when your apartment comes into view, you grab at his cap on the dashboard, putting it on your head yourself this time, looking into the side mirror. “hm, think this looks better on me, what do you think?”

sae’s a little stunned at the sudden question. you have a way of making him exasperated—in all the good ways. “wanna keep it?” he’s guessing that’s where you’re headed. not that he minds. 

“oooh, then maybe i get to sell it for a buttload of money. especially when i tell people it belonged to you,” you smirk, and sae finds himself wondering why your guard is up so high.

he starts driving a little slowly, starting to feel the reluctance brewing inside him. “it’s yours now, do whatever you want with it.” he knows you’re not actually going to sell it anyway. he might not have known you for long, but he thinks you’re not that kind of person.

he’ll bet on it.

you don’t say anymore about it, and he catches you with a blank stare straight ahead, aimed at your apartment.

does it have something to do with your family? was that why you were unhappy earlier?

sae can’t shake the feeling of wanting to know more about you. but you snap back to your usual self before he can do anything about it.

“anyway! don’t worry about tonight, i won’t tell a soul that a superstar like you took a nobody like me out for a romantic supper in a private room,” you tell him, winking as you place your hands on the door handle, ready to go.

sae nearly laughs. “can’t you say thank you like a normal person?” because by now, the both of you are comfortable enough to understand that nothing is ever said in hostility. you take it as his banter.

somehow, your hand finds itself back onto your lap, and the words haven’t left your lips. there’s no music in the car, so it’s just you and sae and the air between you, a tension looming in the air that you can’t ignore. there’s just silence as you observe him from your position, your head inching closer, ever so slowly it feels like you’re not even moving at all. you can see how sae’s gaze flickers from your eyes to the tip of your nose and then to your lips, and you think of how he looks almost like he did that night when you got close to him.

except this time, you’re really tempted. you’re alone, just the both of you, and he’s been really nice and you’re really tempted to feel how soft those lips are and what he tastes like. but that’s too much, and yet somehow his eyes feel like they’re telling you different. would he mind?

your fingers pull the cap down from your head, covering both your faces as there’s barely any space between you now.

maybe just something tame.

in one swift motion, your lips press against his cheek, a hurried thank you rolling off your tongue before you bolt out of the car and back to your apartment, hoping that sae doesn’t think you’re a complete psycho for doing that. 

back in the car, sae freezes in position even after you’ve long vanished from his sight. his heart’s still beating wildly in his chest and he wonders what the hell just happened.

and then he finds himself questioning when it could happen again.

why does he want it to happen again?

before he starts the drive back, he does three things.

one, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and creates that account he forgot about. two, he sends you a follow request because he doesn’t think he can handle this curiosity anymore. and three, he opens your messages, breathing shallow as he tries to make plans for the first time.

an hour later, after you’re showered and your heart has calmed down, you check your phone, charged to full now on your bedside table. there’s a few messages from sumi and eita that you missed since it had been dead since before you left the house, and then your heart skips a beat when you realise that sae’s name is there as well.

for the first time in a long time, you go to bed feeling like a giggly high school girl who’s been asked out by her crush. and for the first time in forever, sae receives your message and finds that he can’t sleep now—wondering why he felt so relieved to finally get a text back, and wondering what this frantic rush of his heart really means. 

extras !

no, sae did not get up late to meet bianca the next day. he did look extremely tired though, which made her suspicious and ask why—sae did not reveal anything, just said he couldn’t sleep. partly true.

sae was right; if he’d asked yn about herself that night (particularly anything pertaining to her family), she wouldn’t have answered seriously. there’s a reason why she won’t so easily divulge her family issues & doesn’t want sae to know about it.

yn genuinely believes that sae did not notice anything off about her and that he honestly thought she was fine.

otoya did end up bringing his date to a hotel. after she fell asleep, otoya went out to the balcony to call yn and make sure she’s okay since she wasn’t responding.

yn’s mother knows that yn and otoya used to fuck (and still thinks they are), and that’s why she used her choice of words “jacking people off”. she has been treating yn like that for the past few years.

random fact #1: otoya used to purposely get yn in trouble all the time in school so that they could spend time in detention together. that’s how they started getting close.

random fact #2: sae has, in his head, considered being together with bianca before because the guys asked him about it.

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi

#bllk x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #blue lock x reader #sae x y/n #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #sae x you #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae #itoshi sae fluff #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #bllk imagines #itoshi sae imagines #૪ aeri’s fics !

[katapotato55]

How to write a good metaphor

yall seemed to like my post on "how to write good horror" so i figured i should make another one of these.

1- do. not. explain. the. metaphor.

don't.

"oh but how will the audience know my deep and meaningful message- "

SOME PEOPLE WONT GET IT. if you explain what you mean then suddenly the metaphor won't be deep anymore. it becomes a generic forced message.

i know you are tempted to make a character infodump about everything, fucking don't.

followup on this:

2- a good metaphor should potentially have multiple interpretations.

"but i don't want people to get the wrong impression of the story!"

then you either need to make damn sure its an elegantly written metaphor, or none at all. the death of the author is the idea that everyone has their own vision of a story they read, rearguards of authors intent. you need to come to terms with this or else you won't improve your writing skills.

you need to trust that your audience is intelligent enough to understand the metaphor on their own without bashing them over the head with it. sometimes people misunderstand meaning, it is a fact of life.

The game little inferno was thought of as a metaphor about pollution, in which later the creators went out to say it was actually about capitalism and wasting your life with things like exploitative mobile games. you just need make it SUBTLE and hope for the best.

3- The story/gameplay/etc should inform the metaphor(and sometimes reference real life examples)

To mention little inferno again, the "you must wait x amount of time for in-game item to be given to you" is a mirror of mobile games in the real world that use timers to leach money from you.

another example: analogue horror.

broken old technology is scary on its own, but many good analogue horror artists tend to use this to the advantage.

analogue horror can be used as a metaphor for dying trends and technology, like how in the 30's through 70's we used asbestos in the walls. Analogue horror makes a great parralel to this idea (see Blue_channel by gooseworx for a good example.) . the audience questions WHY this is on an old CRT tv and not just a smartphone, perhaps to imply this was an event that happened years ago.

undertale is another example, where most RPG's encourage you to fight and to level up, undertale uses this as a simple metaphor about obsessive control and being cruel to get an arbitrary achievement (i recommend the escapist's video on "why i didn't review undertale" on youtube for way better examples)

tldr: a metaphor is stronger if you lightly reference real life occurances and implement your metaphor in the medium presented.

4- the curtains are blue because they are blue.

not everyone is going to understand your metaphor

and not everyone is going to notice every single little metaphor you add to your story.

remember those teachers that would constantly stretch to imply something in a story is a metaphor and that the curtains are blue because of some deep metaphor for death and sadness and shit?

those teachers are full of it. ignore them.

metaphors are allowed to be simple. not every metaphor needs to be a hyper deep depth defying world changing thing. I could even argue a bunch of small metaphors connected to each other can be better than one big metaphor depending on your story.

relax. don't think too much about it because your average audience member won't.

5- study movies, tv, books, games, etc and understand why their metaphors work.

don't fall into that "the curtains are blue because of a deep message" English teacher mindset mind you.

"but how do i tell what is and isn't a metaphor?" you may ask

simple. trust your gut. you won't understand everything you come across but the human brain has a way of telling what is and isn't a metaphor in stories.

(spoiler about bugsnax)

I could argue Bugsnax is a metaphor about drug abuse and addiction. The characters have personality traits commonly associated with people vulnerable to drug addiction. An athlete, a hippy, a married couple going through a rough spot in their marriage with the threat of divorce, a mentally ill person with trauma and paranoia, etc.

It isn't obvious, many people may disagree with me, but you can't deny that there are signs i may be right.

(end of spoiler) the point i am trying to make: don't stretch to find a metaphor when you don't see one. if you are curious google other people's theories and make your own opinion. metaphors are hard and you will learn over time. and finally 6- do not ever do "it was all just a dream" or "the character is secretly in a coma" etc this applies to writing in general but it is still related to metaphors. the only time i have seen this done well is driver san francisco, but what it did right was A- make it so the players can guess ahead of time the mystery, such as the radio saying voices of your character in the hospital, or if you zoomed out you could hear a heart monitor. and B- it didn't completely un-do the entire story. that is my core issue with this trope. it either wastes your time un-doing the entire story readers worked hard to finish, or it is just nonsensical and terrible. "dora the explorer is actually in purgatory!" "spongebob is a metaphor for the 7 deadly sins!" "ash is in a coma and that is why he never ages! " ooooor it is a cartoon and you are forcing meaning that doesn't exist in something that doesn't even imply it. the world being a bit weird is not enough to be a metaphor for anything. If you want to make a good metaphor: do more effort than just slapping a lazy "it was all a coma" thing at the end. Like horror, stuff like this needs to be built up properly. also consider authors intent. I understand death of the author and all of that, but do you really think a retired marine biologist made spongebob to be a complex metaphor about sinners in hell ? (rip Stephen Hillenburg btw. we didn't deserve him.) thank you for reading, hope this helps. and please, learn to understand the tropes of metaphors before you attempt to make the story of a generation. edit- adding a couple more things i forgot 7- "the darkness is going to destroy the land or whatever!" i see this used all the time. spooky wookey dark shadowy bits going to destroy a land and is the hero's generic bad thing to fight. stop it. it is not a deep and complex metaphor about depression or whatever the hell you are on about. its lazy and stupid. 8- a story should stand up on its own regardless if audience members understand the metaphor or not I don't like Gris. it is a very pretty game with lovely visuals But also the entire story is just the main character moping about artistically and shit and go on about how artistically sad and dramatic this all is. if i don't understand the story without understanding the metaphor, then your story and your metaphor sucks. an example of a metaphor done well: spiritfairer without the metaphor, it is a simple game about running a traveling boat. even if you didn't care too much about the deeper meaning it is a cute story and the gameplay is fun (spoiler) if you look deeper, it can also be taken as a metaphor about greif and learning to accept your loved ones will one day die. things like the boat being filled with empty houses you can't remove is a good example of this. (end of spoiler) your story needs to stand up on its own to be good. don't use a metaphor as a crutch.

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #classic horror #horror #analogue horror #bugsnax #little inferno #zero punctuation #creative writing #fanfiction #fanfic #film #comics #videogames #movies #bad writing #bad writing advice #metaphors #metaphor

[kiara-ish]

IDOL SOLDIER

Chapter 1

Words: 5k+

Summary: The world is changing yet again. People are turning into flesh biting monsters and with all backs to the walls, every second is a war between life and death. You expected a lot in life but never in your wildest dreams did you expect to meet Kim Seokjin in the middle of an apocalypse.

Pairing: Enlisted Soldier!Seokjin x fem!Reader

Genre: Dystopia | Romance

Rating: series rating - 18+ | chapter rating - 16+

Series Warnings: blood, gore, violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of sexual harrasment, deaths, graphic descriptions, suggestive themes.

Author's Note: This was initially supposed to be a long oneshot but after scrapping my drafts multiple times, I decided to break it into parts for easy reading and smooth writing too. Also, if I blinded you with that horrible cover, I'm really sorry me and graphics don't go well together. I'll fix it whenever I can.

m.list | next ->

Dystopia always was my favourite trope to write. There was something about hopelessness that always had me taking up the pen. I always supposed it was something rather mundane and humane – to be curious of misery and despair. Until one day when the television that I sometimes left on in the evenings when I felt extraordinarily lonely caught my attention.

"...the rapid growth of the virus Z-24 is shocking. The constant spike in the number of affected is fearsome especially because the medium of transfer is yet to be discovered. What is spreading even more terror is the worsening condition of those infected, they have shown signs of insanity and as the specialists have named it – the zombie syndrome. It is becoming very difficult to reassure the crowd of grieving and worried families outside the hospitals and quarantine. Today, we have with us…"

With the said attention having the span matching that of a goldfish, I was distracted by a ping of notification on my phone and zoned out the news. In hindsight, my listening or not listening to the news wouldn't have made much of a difference. But it might have made me prepare better, it might have allowed me to ponder more on zombie syndrome than Kim Seokjin's nearing end of military service.

Apart from the regulation of wearing masks and sanitizing, there wasn't much havoc about the virus so people took it as seriously as they did coronavirus – scared but reassured that it will be fine sooner or later. So like every other patient citizen, I lost my shit when a lockdown was declared simultaneously with a message from my manager announcing the reduction of the travel allowance because of the change in mode of work.

Going off the texts, my social media was flooded with video clips, hazy, distraught – almost like an illegally filmed video. I knew what they would show but did not want to experience the same fervent panic from the night before. I scrolled past most videos until my clumsy fingers accidentally let go of the phone and in the eager grasp of catching it, a video started playing.

A vlogger was speaking in a broken, hushed voice. His words were unclear nor did I have the motivation to be keener in my observation. He was showing pitch darkness and it intrigued me. So instead of scrolling past like I intended, I stayed and tried to scrutinize the scene but to no help — it was all dark.

"Did you hear that?"

The vlogger's voice was suddenly clearer but his question threw me off. It was unnerving. There was an unfamiliar tremor in his voice that made me feel the same fear as him. The dark screen was suddenly not still and the silhouette of a door came into view.

"The sound came from right outside. Should I open the door to see?"

Of course he shouldn't. There could be found some ten thousand horror movies that would tell him that he should not. But he did anyway. There was no foreboding creek as the door opened, some fragments of street light in the distance that looked more ominous than reassuring. It was still silent, eerily like it was a warm summer evening in the countryside where people had nothing to worry about let alone flesh biting horrors.

"There is nothing here. To appreciate my bravery don't be shy in sending gifts and whatever your heart desires at–"

It was so quick I almost missed it and had I been successful at missing it, maybe my heart would be saved.

It wasn't a grand howl and attack. It was just a blink of darkness moving, covering the lights in the distance with the shadow and as the lights became visible again, it was obvious that something had moved. There was no foreshadowing, ominously sidelining; in a wink there was a rustle of clothes and the clang of the camera falling to the floor. It was pitch darkness but the vlogger had left no stone turned in choosing his recording mic.

As the mic stayed on around his mouth, the squelching of blood resonated loudly as the infected tore his neck probably, its heavy breathing and teeth biting into flesh with a small ripping sound like that of soft muslin. A second too late, the man started gurgling on his blood. He had no time to scream, no chance to run. The gushing of blood as the infected but around until it was done was so loud that I threw my phone away without a care in the world. Yet the only sound that reached me was the low, deep gurgle of blood and the throaty groan of the infected.

No amount of gory movies and books would have prepared me for that video and the silence that rang through the apartment after that prevailed for a very long time with the only noises being my gasps and puking. The clip went viral and everyone went crazy; traffic in the streets for miles as everyone tried to flee the city, flight tickets skyrocketed and the ruckus continued. I couldn't afford the tickets and I had nowhere else to go so I tried to order as much grocery as I could while trying to hold off the anxiety of living through yet another possible pandemic.

More clips started surfacing but I watched none of it, staying off the internet unless it was for work until finally hell couldn't be contained and the internet was shut down in the whole city. The government couldn't do shit for the virus yet so they ensured what they liked best – quiet. Work was close to impossible and salaries were further reduced regardless of the increasing bills.

In all the chaos of possibly a zombie apocalypse in construction and intense inflation, there was bound for things to go wrong — very, very wrong.

--

Ripping off the fabric of a shirt from the backpack, I tied it around the long scratch on my arm. Darkness blurred my vision every time I exhaled and every inhale burned my lungs. Looking around, I realised I had run into the woods, which explained the itchy scratches everywhere on my body. But there was nowhere else to go and if I navigated in the right direction, I would arrive at the isolated military camp, which was a hopeful ray of my survival.

It wasn't supposed to happen; I was supposed to move south to downtown, where there could be a shit ton of infected but more chances of communication too. But the streets looked awfully empty as I walked and sprinted carefully. There were occasional abandoned cars that looked good as new but I did not dare peek in. Last thing I would want was an investigation after all the ruckus clears off, that too for petty theft. The cramp in my stomach was occasionally wrenching my insides but the adrenaline kept me going.

Humans are cute. Hold their hand, caress their scars and give them a warm seat and they'll think they are home. The empty roads, the quiet and the chilly breeze that brushed through my sweaty, filthy skin felt like a cold shower after enduring a heatwave. I got too comfortable so it was only right that I would get plowed to the street.

It was all in a split second. One second I was running and the next a heavy weight crashed to my side, effectively pushing me to the ground and scraping my exposed skin against the rough asphalt. But before I could cry out or even look at the force, there was a putrid stench scorching my nostrils and a growl above me.

There was a squelch of flesh being torn apart and a scream escaped my parched throat, a hoarse but disturbingly loud sound. I felt like I was floating just like I always imagined death to be except something was wrong. There was no pain. I wasn't pathetically thrashing in sheer agony of having my flesh bitten off and the infected person above me was not moving.

Lightheaded, I finally looked, really looked. Blood never looked so relieving. The makeshift spear on my hand was protruding through the neck of the infected and cold blood dripped down the puncture wound. The infected person, what looked like a young man, had his eyes stuck on me but they were vacant of any semblance of life. They were bloodshot and pupils dilated, looking like they would pop out of their sockets any moment. His body weight was crushing me and I couldn't breathe with my already throbbing head.

Pushing off the body, I rolled away, breathing in the open air. But before a complete breath, my body instinctively flipped and with wretched gags that shook my whole body, I puked again. At this point I wasn't sure what I was throwing up, probably my dying organs. The putrid stench was stronger and my gags worsened.

In the midst of that, I heard it this time. Shuffling, wheezing and groaning, footsteps. How did I forget my own scream? How was I not expecting it? My throat hurt and so did my entire body. I wanted to scream and cry with helplessness. But I knew I needed to move. I needed to get the fuck back up.

Because I might not be the main character in the whole story, but I was the main character in mine.

That's how I ended up running in a random direction, then more random directions doing anything to escape the footsteps. Every time I saw the slightest of shifts in my periphery, I changed directions. My makeshift spear remained digging into an infected person's throat and taking out any other knife would take time. I wanted to ram my head into a tree trunk for leaving behind the spear but I had to run then.

At one point, the road was deserted. The woods ran through one side and empty fields through another. There was no house around and nothing objectively obstructive of view. So I stopped but adrenaline was heavy so I stumbled to the ground and rolled on my back. Breathing. Just breathing.

The sky was clear but dusk was approaching. I didn't even want to think what would happen after nightfall so I kept breathing like it was a task. It was so silent that my head got louder again. I was hyper aware of my being, from my aching legs to my throbbing head and sinking heart. I couldn't close my eyes. Every time I gave in to the darkness, I saw a pair of bloodshot protruding eyes first, then a sensation – a cold liquid dripping down my arm and then finally, a knife lodged into a man's throat and the handle of that knife was held by-

I opened my eyes with as much life I had in me to the bright sky, unnerving quiet and my own heavy breathing. There was a nagging thought in my head that I wanted to throttle and bury but it came up again and again. To evade it, I sat up.

I took out a knife from my backpack, knowing that it wouldn't be half as useful as my spear but it was something better than nothing. I held it firmly but did not stand up. I couldn't. My legs were weak and hurt like a bitch. I had always contemplated how quickly things could go wrong but my estimation wasn't even close to what it was happening in reality. I remember basking in the warmth of my airy apartment and listening to music, laughing with my friends on call about how I was finally on the same land as BTS. But then suddenly it was chaos and now I had blood on my hands, filthy but it wasn't my own.

There was a cackling, a giggle around me and goosebumps lined my skin. I looked around for a moment when a realization hit me. It hit me so hard that I began sprinting again. Running towards the woods aimlessly, I ignored the burning of my soles and the scratches of small thin branches tearing my skin. All the while I kept thinking back to that sound.

It was me. I was laughing. I couldn't suppress the thought anymore. I was going insane.

--

Aimlessly wandering through the woods, I finally tried to breathe a little better. Stumbling through the huge trees and trying my best to navigate towards the setting sun, where a military camp should stand tall, I tried to ignore the burning pain that was spreading through my whole body.

The forest wasn't too thick. One couldn't see the other side at one glance but it wasn't complete wilderness. There were some rare trees marked by the government and some sections were fenced with wires. But all the big trees and growing tangled bines yet not one fruit caught my eye. No matter how much the infected scared me and no matter how much my whole body throbbed with a dull ache constantly, I couldn't ignore my cramped stomach and my dry mouth. But I couldn't drop my gait, not before nightfall.

The setting sun was like a halo in the distance and staring at it, as I moved forward, I felt a serenity take over me. There was nothing that was as hopeful as that constant ball of brightness in the desolate quiet of the woods, in a city filled with sick people.

So lost in the blinding light of the sun, I couldn't control my feet as they stepped on a dry branch on the ground and a loud creak echoed through the forest. The echoing felt like nature was mocking me, really laughing at me, pointing and saying, 'look at her, what a dumb bitch.'

Looking around me, I tried to confirm that nothing was going to jump on me at the next second. At least my back wouldn't be to the wall if something did pop up. At most, it would delay my navigation — or that's what I tried to assure myself. I was doing a fine job at it too, taking slow steps further towards the direction of the setting sun until I noticed it.

At some distance, there was a man walking towards my direction. He wasn't stumbling and that gave me hope that it could be another survivor. It couldn't be me all alone. But I didn't want to call out loud and attract attention. So I leaned against a thick tree, away from his sight, just the sound of his footsteps nearing me. The footsteps were steady, not haphazard. They felt conscious and they were closer than ever before.

I held my breath as I heard the footsteps just on the other side of the tree. I could see his shoes standing still. Peeking out a little more, I caught sight of him, looking straight ahead. His side profile looked completely untouched and with his completely fine posture, I was sure by then that he was indeed uninfected. A strange ray of joy sparked through me. He looked very alert and upright, probably because of the sound I made.

So I finally decided to step out from behind the bark. A step and then another until I was beside him. But he still didn't notice me, so I tried to reach out a hand and tap his shoulder. My shaking hands reached out and it was almost at his shoulder blade when I heard his breathing. He was breathing heavily which wasn't abnormal but it was followed by a deep gurgling sound – a growl.

In a beat I was ducking behind the tree again, only in time to catch his head turn in my direction; a knife was sticking out of his other eye, the sight making bile rise to my throat again as a scream threatened to erupt but at the distance he was in, one wrong move and I wouldn't be able to scream ever again. His other eye looked around keenly, heavy breathing and that same eerie gurgling groan as if he was choking on his own blood.

A few moments passed like that with me holding my breath, as he stood motionless. But after what felt like an eternity, he began walking again. Steady footsteps moving past the tree had me finally exhaling. But I couldn't waste any more time, it was already darkening. I had to get somewhere at least.

I took off in a sprint, the desire to put a distance between the infected and myself overwhelming my senses. Ducking below branches and jumping over roots, I let the air rage war on my skin as the surroundings changed to a blur. Even in all that overwhelming stimulation, I could feel it before I saw it. There was someone sprinting behind me. It was not a human. It had a protruding knife from its eye.

I wanted to scream out loud or at least cry in despair. But in lieu of all the mockery I made of characters in dystopian fictions at their obnoxious and unrealistic behaviour, even my mind was working on autopilot and instead of screaming or crying, I pushed my legs to run faster, letting the subdued animalistic urge of survival take over my senses, until I could see nothing but the peeking glimpses of the road at the distance.

My feet met the asphalt again and I let myself blink, feeling the water dripping down my cheeks. I couldn't perceive anything other than my own shoes hitting the road, slowing down with each fall to a jog then a walk and then a standstill.

I looked around the deserted road, panting. My vision was even more blurry than before but I couldn't miss the sight of a military barricade in the distance. This was the path to the military camp, where there should be people that can help me. The sun had dropped below the horizon but the bright halo remained and that too was slowly dimming.

I couldn't brush off the fact that there were probably infected around so I took quick strides to the path opposite the military barricade. A big white arrow was drawn on the road and it made me increase my pace. Soon enough a building came in my sight but it was still far and no matter how much I sped up, it felt far like a mirage.

"Help!"

I stumbled to a stop. There was a looming fear that I was going insane but I was sure I heard someone scream for help. It was coming from the darkening forest. My heart thudded loudly in my chest as I stared at the darkness.

"Help me please!"

I heard it distinct this time and closer than before. There was indeed another person. But I couldn't forget the infected person I encountered before. With the loud shouting from this person asking for help, he would definitely be following the source too. There was a person asking for help and there was an infected person probably tailing the sound.

I've never counted myself as a great person and that wasn't due to humility. I was never a great person. I always prioritized myself first and when the situation had come to a literal man-eating-man situation, I saw nothing wrong in it.

So I sprinted towards the building, ignoring the calls for help, the sound ringing in my ears like a siren.

"Help!"

"Help, please, someone!"

"HELP!"

--

It wasn't a military camp. It didn't look like one at least. It was a huge building, fenced with a huge metal gate, but empty. Deserted. Not one person was around. But I didn't want to lose hope, they could have locked themselves in somewhere.

The gate was open thankfully, so I tried to push myself in through that but ended up opening it slightly wider than before albeit soundlessly. It was dark, the halo of the sun gone. The sky was just minutes away from darkening to a void.

With quiet footsteps I walked towards the only door in sight. It was huge but opened even with a gentle push, no creaking. The place was quiet. With the staircases and the multiple hallways, it looked like the barracks. But no lights were on and nothing was in sight. There was a chill running down my spine as I slowly stepped towards the first hallway to the left.

The long, narrow passage gave way to another big door. The door was closed but through the big glasses on the door, I could well see the inside. I could barely conceal my cry when I saw numerous infected people stumbling around in what looked like the cafeteria. There was food spilled on the ground and they all looked like chefs but a few were wearing military boots too.

My last hope drowned. I could only visualise letting an infected person tear into me. The pain would be immense but it won't last too long. Muffled sobs uncontrollably poured out of me as I stared at the people inside walking around like monsters of the night, waiting for one little sound, then they would tear them down to dust.

I was subconsciously staring at the young soldier who had a huge chunk of his forearm missing. He was young, might have even enlisted recently. His buzz cut looked newly shaped. It made my heart lurch in agony. I couldn't falter the ringing of my ears, the only sound enthralling my eardrums was the cry for help that I ignored. When I closed my eyes to blink I saw a man with a knife sticking out of his throat, a knife that I stabbed him with. It was so terrifying that I wanted to never close my eyes again.

The young soldier's eyes met mine all of a sudden and I took a step back. His eyes remained on mine when I moved further and further back until I began sprinting in the opposite direction. The adrenaline got the best of me and forsaking the sense of directions, I ran up the staircase. The sound of my shoes hitting the floor hurt my own ears. I had no idea where I was running to but I couldn't stop.

Not until I was suddenly pulled back inside a room and thrown against the wall with a heavy body up against me and a hand on my mouth interrupting the scream that I was about to let out. It was dark but I could make out a tall silhouette gently closing the door with one hand while still holding me against the wall.

Tears flowed out my eyes as I heard a familiar groaning right outside the door. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pressed myself to the wall as if it would just suck me in and free me from the wall but the stranger looked unshaken, his hand remained firm on my mouth and eyes on the door. A moment or two passed like that with me holding my breath and a loud drumming of heartbeat in my ears before abnormal footsteps slowly moved past the door and somewhere further down the hall.

The stranger still showed no intent of moving and there were hundreds of thoughts running through me but I let him wait for another minute or so before he moved and let me collapse to the floor like a heap of messy laundry. I couldn't control my trembling body, letting everything over the past weeks finally take their toll on me. I couldn't even look up and catch the stranger step back until he was on the opposite wall where he slid down to the floor too.

"Are you hurt somewhere?"

There was a gentle familiarity in his voice that made my stomach clench uncomfortably. I had no idea how much time had passed since I stopped crying.

"Just some scratches."

He suddenly looked alert and stood up. It took me a few seconds to comprehend his reaction so I was quick to clear the misunderstanding, "Not by the infected people. Just tree branches. I ran through the woods."

There was a sigh heard in the room and I watched his silhouette move to the small window with the blinds down. His shoulders were broad and his physique looked intimidating from my position on the ground but it strangely did not throw me off. There was something about him that felt unnaturally familiar. I didn't know how.

He parted the blinds and let more light flood in before turning to face me. I blinked at him for a moment, my head couldn't process what was going on. The familiar kind eyes, the high nose bridge and the pouty lips were all features of one person I recognised like the back of my hand; someone I had spent years fangirling over. I couldn't mistake that countenance, never. But the only sigh of misery that left me was the consequences I was seeing him in.

I wasn't ready to meet Kim Seokjin in the middle of an apocalypse.

There was utter silence in the room, only our breathing and probably my drumming heart. He had returned to his seat at the opposite wall while I remained fixated to my side. I had so many questions, so many things to say but moving my lips felt like a task. I had nothing on me that would get me going now that the adrenaline had run out. So we remained in an exhausting silence.

"Is the road clear?" he whispered.

"Barely. The woods are not clear so I doubt the road will stay safe too long."

He didn't reply and I couldn't resist the urge so I asked him, "How are you here?"

"I was supposed to be discharged the next day when all this happened. I was in my room packing up when I heard some commotion downstairs."

I didn't need to know what commotions nor did he feel it to be said. Silence prevailed when I couldn't come up with a reply but there was something shifting in me. I was breathing a little easier.

"I'm not going to be here anymore though."

I watched him stand up and move to the bed in the corner and there was a slightly coarse sound of a wrapper being torn, of a small protein bar when it was brought before my eyes. I looked up at Jin who held the bar in front of me, another small water bottle with some water in it.

I was confused. Why was he showing it to me? Was he giving it to me? He couldn't be that stupid. Who would share food and water in this scarcity? I kept staring at the protein bar letting my mouth water and my stomach groan loudly. But I didn't take it from his hand.

It must have been frustrating for him because he suddenly dropped to the floor right in front of me and shoved the bar in my hand and placed the water bottle before me. When my limp hand finally fisted around the bar, he brought my hand to my mouth and shoved it in.

I could have cried as the taste of the melting bar sent a few shudders to my body and I was gobbling it up in less than a few seconds.

"I'm sorry I'm usually more gentle. But I can't be patient right now."

Mouth full with the last bite of the bar, I reached for the water bottle watching him with keen eyes as he continued, "I can only give you this much. I'll leave tomorrow."

The water flowing down my burning throat sent another round of shudders down my body and my eyes closed in bliss. I saved a few sips for later and let the embarrassing sound of my stomach groaning be heard before I processed his words.

"To where? It's hell out there."

"My brothers. They are in the main camp."

I didn't agree with him wholeheartedly but I understood him. The moment my brain registered that it was Kim Seokjin, my mind went to the other six members. The exhaustion had gotten overwhelming and the thought had left me. Hearing it from him was a different feeling. He was the eldest, his sense of responsibility had to be peaking.

I had no idea when I fell asleep but when I woke up it was day again. Lights poured in through the windows with the blinds pushed up. A rustle of fabric made me jump up to a stand still when I remembered I wasn't alone.

Jin was walking around the room, randomly checking drawers and tables. I felt my thoughts to be more organised than last night so I could finally process a lot of things; first being the fact that I wasn't dead or infected yet and I somehow met Kim Seokjin and the second, he is ethereal.

He looked like an angel with the sun beaming on his face, as he looked out. What were the odds of me ending up with him of all people? But before I could further contemplate the odds, he turned to me with a small grimace for a smile but I swooned nonetheless.

"Slept well? You should keep your guards up now. I'll get going."

It all came back to me in an instant. He did talk about leaving to look for the other members and I didn't remember what I replied back.

"Have you been outside? It's hell."

"I know, you've told me before."

"How do you plan to make it there?"

He looked at me with his backpack in hand, "I'm not sure. I don't have much with me, just some scraps for snacks and a bottle of water or two."

I couldn't help the quake of my body when I recalled the infected people I had encountered on my way. At least I had a knife, it looked like he was charging in without anything.

I noticed my own backpack lying abandoned so I picked it up and took out one of the knives from in there.

"There you go," I held it out to him as he continued staring with an unreadable expression, "you will need some kind of protection. I suppose you happen to not have a gun, right?"

He stared at the knife for a moment and I was about to take it back, afraid of his widening eyes but instead he suddenly spoke up, "Guns! There are guns here somewhere-"

"In this room?"

"No, maybe in the gym."

I had no idea what to do with this piece of information so I waited for his mind to continue turning the gears.

"I'm going to try and look for one before I leave."

He didn't wait for any affirmation from my side, immediately moving towards the door when an uncomfortable feeling began sinking in my stomach. He was really leaving like that. Hand on the doorknob, he was about to pull it open when I was pulling his arm back.

Wide eyed he stared as if I had grown two heads, "what are you doing?"

"I'll go with you."

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fic #bts ff #jin ff #jin fic #jin x reader #jin smut #bts jin #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin #zombie apocalypse au #zombies #bts kim seokjin #idol soldier #fic: idol soldier #btswritersclub #kiara-ish: idol soldier

[ninadove]

Hm.... While I agree, Gabriel IS selfish.... I have to point out; he clearly changed his heart (again, I don't want to make him a saint) from hurting others. And (in my oppinion) there was no good human sollution. He was dieing, they said he has hours left.... He might could have ask for Adrien's forgivenes, but that doesn't changes the fact Adrien becomes an orphan, having either Emilie or Ms. Tsurugi as guardian (whis isn't that bad, but worse than what happend at the end). So, I would say, he made the best/better of the worst situation.

Also, I have the theory that his whis was to inflict the broken Peacock Miraculous dammage uppon himself. And asked Gimmi to read his heart, and I belive, in that moment, he doesn't wanted to hurt anybody, only heal. So, while I see why you say rightfully he awoided the consequenves, I belive he did it knowing it won't effect anybody negativly, at least ah he could foresee (part of my theory is that healing EVERYBODY from the Pracock's effect, which possibly includes Colt, so.... Here is your backlash😅🤫)

There is no perfect human solution, as Bug Noire herself pointed out — but, this is the entire point: accepting that some things will be lost, and that you need to do the best you can with what you have. A lesson Nathalie urged him to learn in earlier episodes, when she begged him to make plans for Adrien’s future.

Even if Gabriel was convinced it was the only solution — which we have established goes against the entire morale of the story and is selfish in itself, don’t use black magic kids, it’s really not that hard — let’s not forget that he:

Manipulated, then attacked a child to get there (there’s a reason they made this shot so threatening) ;

Put the pressure on her to lie and protect his legacy — trapping Adrien in a neverending circle of mourning an heroic version of his father he never got to meet, while still dealing with the consequences of the abuse he inflicted upon him. Depriving him of a choice — that of forgiving his father or not — one last time.

In other words, the context around the wish, and the steps Gabriel takes in order to achieve it, reinforce its inherent selfishness, and the idea that people did and will get hurt as a result.

On a side note, I don’t think Gabriel could heal everyone that has been affected by the Peacock — it does not work well with the idea of equivalent exchange as explained by Gimmi, and Thomas Astruc heavily implied that the woman we see by the pool is Amelie, as bringing Emilie back would go against the message of these 5 seasons.

What he most likely did was """sacrifice""" himself to bring back Nathalie, which would work well with the "a life for a life" rule, while still allowing him to join his wife in death.

Also, if everyone (including Colt) was suddenly saved from the effects of the Peacock, Felix definitely wouldn’t look this happy:

For context, and because I love hearing myself talk: [Part 1] [Part 2]

#miraculous ladybug #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #monarch #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #bug noire #emilie agreste #amelie graham de vanily #nathalie sancoeur #felix graham de vanily #kagami tsurugi #feligami #gimmi #colt fathom #mlb spoilers #mlb recreation #ml recreation #recreation spoilers #re creation spoilers #trigger warning: child abuse #tumblr asks #random ramblings #Ultimately your interpretation is your own! Don’t let me ruin it for you #But… Yeah #I will never be convinced that this man thought of anyone other than himself for even a split second #I think however that he did convince himself he was being such a good boy for it #In the same way he once convinced himself he was being such a good dad to Adrien #Anyways that’s all I have to say on the matter. Nina out *Mic drop*

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Dead Friend Forever ep 6

I've been procrastinating on this because I'm finding it hard to watch all the bullying...but I want to catch up so the only way is to just do it!

...and also to remember that these are horrible people who will get what they deserve eventually. The show did a great job of making the audience (me) like (some of) them first and now that's changed.

Ohhhh the messages...I wish they'd translate at least some of them.

The abused becomes the abuser...

I just about choked on my pizza. IS JIN WATCHING KINNPORSCHE?! OPENLY?! AT SCHOOL?!?!

I don't know what it's like in Thailand (or anywhere else other than the UK and Sweden) but it wouldn't be that easy to open accounts and move money around like this, especially high school kids and especially random large sums of money. But I'm going with it for the story.

I'm waiting for the big reveal of who it is that Non keeps trying to contact. I mean I think I know who it is but I'm loving how they've twice cut to the poster of the tutor afterwards to imply something's going on there.

Oh Non's T-shirt game is on point this ep. 'Is there anything bothering you?' / 'You can tell by my face?' No, love, it's the glaring message adorning your chest 😂

This tutor had better not take advantage of Non. No, don't touch him. 😡

I will not get sucked into feeling sorry for Tee. I will not get sucked into feeling sorry for Tee.

Is Por going to buy a whole new camera? Because otherwise how can it be fixed so quick?! They're in school, he wanted the full cost back from Non, and he wants to use the camera straight away the next day. I don't know who could fix it that quick and why he would need the full-price cost for that...but I think the nuance may be lost in translation here...

Uncle DAMN!

Are they hallucinating again? Or is this their film?...Oh, it's their fiim... Nice 'callback' to their future plight.

Oh no is Jin going to shoot his shot ? Oh thank god he didn't. I'm afraid he will and will get rejected and then that'll make him join the others in bullying Non.

Not 'Mindset is Everything' when Non's about to get beaten up. Honestly these t-shirts are getting me through this 😂

Ok, I don't feel sorry for Por's mum anymore.

Ohhhh is the red bracelet is for Phee, who is red, and therefore Non is blue?

THERE HE ISSSSSSSSSSS AHHHHHHHHHHH PHEEEEEEEEEEEE

Oh no....I don't like that tutor. At all.

Thinking about what I've seen so far about the past, I've been wondering why the events of the future have happened the way they have, and there's a small part of me questioning whether Top and Tee are the two main intended 'victims' of the murderer. Even though they all bullied Non (Jin less so), they're the ones who started all the big issues for Non AND the others, with the lie about the broken camera and then setting in motion the events which led to Por, Fluke, and Jin being arrested. I don't know, maybe I'm reading too much into it, but I'm still wondering if Por actually isn't dead and it's part of an act to fuck up Top and Tee...even though I also can see this being a revenge plot by Phee (and maybe also Non...and White somehow). Anyway, I can't wait to get back to the future events!

#dead friend forever #NO SPOILERS PLEASE! #I want to catch up so bad #but I don't have enough time 😭

[allthingsencanto]

Usually whenever I see people say “Alma didn’t directly apologize to Bruno”, I go…..yeah you’re right, but I feel like a lot of people are forgetting this moment.

After Alma realizes her faults, she comes back to the broken casita with Mirabel, and sings towards the whole family, but more importantly, she welcomes Bruno back. She takes his hands, looks him in the eye, and shows him that she NOW knows her mistakes and that every member here is worthy, (including him of course) and that their gifts aren’t the miracle. It’s not a flat out apology towards him specifically, but she herself told the whole family “I’m sorry I held on too tight”. She welcomes Bruno, immediately hugging him, and she shows everyone that her eyes are open and her outlook has changed, and that’s a good thing! So even though she never specifically said “I’m sorry Bruno”, that doesn’t mean she’s being in-denial of what she did and shunning him out, it’s the opposite in fact. Of course, they’re probably not going to heal quickly, they have a lot to talk about, to make up for lost time, and I think the writers are smart enough to know that. When the family rebuilds their house, it isn’t just them saying everything is okay, it’s them admitting that they have made a new foundation, and that in time, they’re all going to heal, expect they know NOW that they’re not alone, and that they can all work together to be better. Just like the directors have said, family can be messy, and it’s going to be messy from time to time. However, that doesn’t mean their isn’t light, isn’t hope for a better way, a better life. While some have wished Mirabel or Bruno would cut off Alma, this movie teaches you not to FORGIVE your abusers like a lot have been saying, but rather teaches you that anyone is capable of changing, anyone is capable of getting better, of BEING better, of healing and growing as people, as a family than they once were. Everyone has their own demons, their own faults and imperfections, but that doesn’t mean all hope is lost, or that their can’t be a reconcile. And even if you don’t agree, or don’t think the film handled a message like this well, hopefully we can all agree that this movie is certainly a good START when talking about these complex themes towards kids and adults. 💚❤️

#encanto #jared bush #walt disney animation studios #disney’s encanto #lin manuel miranda #mirabel madrigal #walt disney #bryan howard #disney animation #encanto mirabel #bruno madrigal #Encanto Alma #Alma madrigal #encanto movie #disney characters #Disney analysis #generational trauma #themes #encanto themes #Abuela Alma #Encanto Bruno

[spade-riddles]

Submission: This is an analysis from @drizzletide and me.

Okay let's dissect this lil video shall we.

Anti hero is a song about mental illness, depression, self doubt and anxiety? Rings a bell with a certain experience? Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

The video begins with Taylor being haunted by her own ghosts. We can easily link each one to a specific genre for Taylor: the one with the hat is her country self, sunglasses one is the pop self from Red and 1989.

Her ghosts chase and torment her from the past. She tries to find help but the phone is broken, so she feels isolated. And in that moment who comes to the rescue? Lover era Taylor.

Lover era Taylor is problematic, she drives her to the worst parts of her. She encourages her to indulge in substance abuse and furthers her sense of loneliness. If we were to go with the theory that Lover was supposed to be a coming out album then we can easily put the picture together. That Taylor was the most unhinged, but also the saddest because of how things had to turn out. That Taylor is not a ghost because she is not dead yet. She is alive and screaming in her mind.

Lover Taylor reveals her problematic self. After things go wrong, she teaches Taylor how she has to be. Everyone will betray her, and such will be her public narrative from now on. Taylor takes notes with a fountain pen, meaning those lyrics will be the constructed ones from now on, the curated ones. Everything is an artifact. A work of art.

Taylor recalls the times when she tried to let the glitter, her insides, the not so straight, not so media curated part of her. She sees that side everywhere, even when eating, and when pierced through he heart by the media it shows and bleeds. The people sitting at her table see this, the people that eat and thrive because of the home Taylor built with her music and the food she provided to them. These are the media, the public. They see what is inside of her and they run, afraid of the unexpected, afraid of instability. She is huge. She has become too much to manage.

She is alone now, left to her own devices. The only consolation she has to put a patch on her bleeding wound is a Vote sticker, a political statement that still won't fix the situation. Lover Taylor brought her there, but she is not with her to celebrate. The bottle is empty.

So, Taylor dies. She is tired. Exhausted.

And to the people she created, her sons, she leaves a will. Her sons are the Swifties.

The older, married son is the general public. The colorful, younger son is the fans that do not believe the pr narrative they were fed.

Those fans are younger. They emerged later in her career.

They argue over the will, because from Taylor Swift the artist, the public figure, they expected better.

They will not accept such a plain will, because there has to be a secret meaning, some hidden message.

But Taylor herself, even from the grave where her own sons put her, states it. There is no secret message in Midnights. What you see is what you get. She has been completely sincere this time around.

And the fans argue. Because they put the blame on each other.

She just wanted to be herself and celebrate. But the son and daughter in law, a woman who clings to Fearless and the older Taylor, killed her.

The younger son knows it. He is sure. A fight ensues. Chaos. Taylor regrets leaving things to be.

She decides to just isolate, herself and her Lover side again. Because she was afraid being sincere wouldn't work.

But while she may indulge in the same self-destructive habits, there comes another part of herself. The one that gives her anxiety, the one that is too big to manage by now.

She finally realizes that all parts of herself are what make her a whole, and she rejoices in being alone, by herself, away from people who want her for money and people who want to force their version of Taylor on her.

She was sincere. She doesn't care how it will go downstairs. She has told her own truth and that is the last time she will remark it- her own will, her testament, her legacy. She has been clear, but she wants to be by herself now, on her own rooftop, school girl crushes or not, it doesn't matter. Because she is finally at peace with who she is. And she hopes we are, too.

#submission #wow

[phnmnt]

Has SQQ tried to separate LBH from SY? After all, SQQ is fond of SY and, And how has that been affecting LBH? I mean, Binhe is fond of his Shixiong

(sorry if You don't undertand me, my english is not very good)

(Don’t worry, your english is very good!! I love it when people are messaging me even though english is not their first language (like me). It means that you took the time to write this in a language you might not feel comfortable with. Thank you so much for sending this ask, it means a lot to me <3)

At first, Shen Qingqiu is certainly unhappy to see Luo Binghe sticking to Shen Yuan. He tries to separate them by all kinds of means. He’s also still that good old PIDW Shen Qingqiu so he even tries to beat some sense into Luo Binghe behind his eldest disciple’s back. (Like the AU's part 7.) But, ironically, Shen Yuan always seeks his shidi out if Binghe’s out of his sight for too long and helps him mend the cuts and bruises that Shen Qingqiu gave him. Because of this, the latter is half forced to back off and let that new disciple of his stick to Shen Yuan.

The good thing about Shen Yuan’s presence as a disciple in this AU is that it helps the original (PIDW) hatred between the two to soften up a touch. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t HATE Luo Binghe. He dislikes him, like an annoying bug buzzing too close to your ear. As for Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan’s presence helps him not to receive as much bad treatment from their shizun and fellow disciples. So his “respect” for Shen Qingqiu more or less stays intact until the Endless Abyss part, his growing resentment for his shizun as he grows older never reaching the peak of hatred either.

I’m also taking the opportunity to add this:

Some of you might think that my way of thinking and writing about this AU is too rose coloured. But, as I as discussing this AU with a few people, I realized that Shen Yuan just… neutralizes everything. As if he’s diverting the attention to himself (he doesn’t mean to though). Let me explain:

In PIDW, Shen Qingqiu is described has having a rather low cultivation compared to his martial siblings, probably due to his time with Wu Yanzi (let’s just say that this guy wasn’t a good mentor lol). So he comes to be jealous of Luo Binghe’s potential, shame pilling up on his heart. He then uses every excuse he can find to abuse Luo Binghe, and goes as far as leading his disciples, such as Ming Fan, to bully him too. As for the PIDW’s Luo Binghe, his “blackening” (his hatred reaching a point of no return) only happens when he’s stabbed then thrown into the Endless Abyss. Before this point, he’s just our cute and innocent white lotus baby boy. That’s exactly what Shen Yuan in svsss exploits to change Luo Binghe’s view of Shen Qingqiu.

Ok, so, that being said, hear me out: The Shen Yuan in this AU is also very talented… in a different way than Binghe. Like I said in another post, he’s closer to Shen Qingqiu’s chosen “style”, so he gets along better with his shizun right from the start. (There’s also something else but this is a SECRET ssshhhHHHH) Shen Yuan is also from the modern era and the system didn’t give him any kind of character restriction since he transmigrated as himself, so he acts a little weird in Shen Qingqiu’s eyes. In that case, why would Shen Qingqiu’s be jealous of a disciple he thinks to be a little “broken” in the head and hardly better than him at cultivating? He wouldn’t, right? And Shen Yuan is useful and polite, and he’s got a very compatible personality with Shen Qingqiu (in a positive way). So he grows on Shen Qingqiu. Now, after trying to separate his oldest and youngest disciples many times and failing, would he insist on doing so, risking upsetting and disappointing the only disciple he grew to actually like? I personally don’t think so. Not when the original Shen Qingqiu is said to be very loyal under all that attitude. Plus, the Shen Yuan in this AU is very much afraid to end up being killed by his not-yet shidi because of Shen Qingqiu, so he tries really hard to slowly change his shizun’s view of the world (and because the system also gave him a mission about it).

That’s why I think Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t have the opportunity to grow to HATE Luo Binghe. First, because Shen Yuan is also talented and it wouldn’t make sense for Shen Qingqiu to hate one but not the other. Second, because Shen Yuan, as his first disciple, had the time to gradually help Shen Qingqiu heal from his shame of being inferior by fortunately being similar to him and supporting him. And third, because Shen Yuan is simply there, being a guy, and getting frustratingly in his shizun’s way when the latter tries to be mean to Luo Binghe. (Don’t misunderstand me, I’m not making Shen Qingqiu’s a saint, he’s very much still an arrogant, agressive, proud and ambitious bastard at first. He just now has other choices than going down the “villain’s path”. He’s more… nuanced? I don’t know.)

Therefore, if we say that Shen Yuan’s presence halves the abuse Luo Binghe would have received otherwise (while also giving him the love and attention his version in svsss gave him), I think it’s fair to think he would not resent Shen Qingqiu as much and instead focus his attention on his shixiong. In svsss, it’s clearly stated that Luo Binghe’s doesn’t even hate Shen Qingqiu for beating him after being taken as his disciple. He does feel SAD about it, but he believes that his shizun and his older martial siblings only want to “toughen him up”. He only starts to truly hate and blame his shizun after being thrown into the Endless Abyss. So would Luo Binghe hate Shen Qingqiu at the beginning of this AU considering all of the above? No, I don’t think he would. (As for later, I’m not saying hahaha)

I hope this answers your question! (And I apologize for the above novel, I felt like it was a good opportunity to clarify my view for this AU. (。・ω・。))

#ask box #sy shixiong au #not art #littlewolf770 #I have no idea if all of this makes sense to anyone but me #im so very sorry if yall dont like when i go on and on like this #please tell me if this is annoying lmao #i love writing like this though #it helps me ground my ideas

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching Lucifer Rising

Welcome to “Dean Is a Cat and We Want Cheeseburgers: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

Up today, s4e22: Lucifer Rising.

The cold open shows Azazel possessing a priest in 1972 and doing a ritual to speak to Lucifer. Luci tells him that he needs Lilith to break the seals that imprison him and that Azazel should look for a special boy. In the present, Sam and Ruby are after one of Lilith’s minions, planning to extract info from her and then have Sam drink up so he will be powerful enough to kill Lilith. Meanwhile, Dean is grump about Sam, and Bobby rips him a new one over it. Dean is then mysteriously zapped to a luxurious “Green Room,” where Zach and Cas explain that they’re keeping him safe because it’s inevitable that the last seal with be broken. Dean calls Sam and leaves a voicemail apologizing for being a dick, but the message Sam receives has been altered into an abusive rejection, which spurs Sam on in his plan. Back in the GR, Zach explains that heaven *wants* the apocalypse so they can bring about heaven on earth—and drops the fact that Dean is destined to kill Lucifer. Dean then argues with Cas that the angel *knows* that letting so many people die in an apocalypse is wrong, and Cas eventually comes round, in a bit of business that is approximately a floppitygillion times more homoerotic than it needed to be (we’re good with it). Cas banishes Zach with a sigil, tells Dean that *killing* Lilith is the final seal, and takes them to Chuck the Prophet to find out where Sam is. An archangel shows up to stop this, Cas stays to hold him off (die), and Dean goes after Sam. He’s too late, though. Sam kills Lilith, her blood flows through a weird spiral whoozit, and Ruby reveals that she’s been working with Lilith all along to bring this about. Sam holds Ruby, Dean stabs her with the demon knife, Lilith’s blood completes its journey through the spiral, and FADE TO WHITE.

Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

[and we begin:]

Mace:

oooh yeah the song

Lor:

YEP

Mace:

priests outfits are ridiculous sometimes

Lor:

RIGHT?

Mace:

i mean, if they want to wear dresses, just do it, man. no judgement. or at least much less than touching boys

Lor:

RIGHT?!

Lor:

this is why you put devil's traps in churches

Mace:

ha!

Lor:

their own fault really

Mace:

i’m not buying that these nuns are scared. they’d more likely be like, “Right, let’s gang up on this a-hole and do some EXORCISING”

Lor:

YAAAAAAS

Mace:

oh sweet BEAN

Lor:

especially the handful of older ones

Mace:

YES

Lor:

aw his FACE

Lor:

you better go hug him

Mace:

YES

Mace:

YAS

Mace:

maybe also a little light petting

Lor:

sure sure, just a little light petting

Mace:

he’s so SAD

Lor:

don't distract him TOO much he has a season to finish

Mace:

snork

Lor:

and it's his turn to be a mess, so

Mace:

Dean’s upset, his collar is extra popped to indicate

Lor:

"don't make me get my gun, boy." Bobby. He doesn't need shot he needs kicked up the patootie

Mace:

it IS his turn

Lor:

LOLOLOLOL

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

look, Dean. eat a cookie, go to therapy, and put on your hunter panties

Mace:

YAS

Mace:

give him that tough love

Lor:

YAAAAS BOBBY

Mace:

HAHAHA BOBBY

Lor:

"you stupid STUPID son of a bitch"

Mace:

I was talking to Lor, but okay

Mace:

YES

Lor:

LOL

Lor:

"no. you sound like your DAD"

Mace:

“you sound like your dad” OFFSIDES

Lor:

GET HIM BOBBY

Lor:

LOLOLOL

Lor:

"you are a better man than your daddy ever was" AAAAAAAAAA

Mace:

YAS

Lor:

CAS

Lor:

time for what? smooches?

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Mace:

MMM burgers

Lor:

what is that on the table? a lure Holy Grail? like in Indiana Jones?

Lor:

yeah but it's the "uh oh something's wrong" beer

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

"you're looking fit" PISS OFF, ZACHARIAH

Mace:

omg SUITE LIFE

Lor:

YES

Lor:

"tempting. weird"

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

"bail on the holodeck" I love him, the little nerd

Mace:

from a kid’s show to ST. wow. impressive

Lor:

he has range

Mace:

he really does

Lor:

"well work harder"

Mace:

so bossy

Lor:

Iiiii'm okay with it

Mace:

Cas isn’t. that’s his job

Lor:

until Cas is ready to step in. he can stand in for now

Lor:

LOLOLOL

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Mace:

ooo the stutter. sweet DeanDean

Lor:

YES

Mace:

aw, he listened to Bobby

Mace:

good boy

Lor:

"I'm not Dad" you take that talk from Bobby to heart, Dean

Lor:

YES

Mace:

oh Sammy

Lor:

right?

Lor:

poor dude

Mace:

GET THIS

Lor:

well, demon, the editing suggests Sam

Lor:

YAS

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

oh Sam

Mace:

right?

Lor:

LOLOLOL DEAN OMG

Mace:

omg DEAN IS A CAT

Lor:

YES HE IS

Mace:

Cas is looking particularly prickly and gorgeous today

Lor:

HE IS

Lor:

"fine. I'll go with you" sigh

Lor:

he will say that so many times and it will get more and more devoted each time and I LOVE IT

Mace:

YES

Lor:

Dean was right, Sam. he was just a monumental jerk about it

Mace:

HA

Lor:

lol the way he checks the wall to be sure

Mace:

HOWLER MONKEY

Lor:

LOL

Lor:

"you don't want to stop it, do you" and it aaaaaall suddenly makes sense

Mace:

this guy is so good

Lor:

oooo I hate Zach and the actor is so good

Lor:

HA! YES

Lor:

oh Dean. he's so worried

Mace:

is that a painting of Michael between them in the background

Lor:

I think so (ED: unless it’s Lucifer? *shrug*)

Mace:

that’s fabulous

Lor:

and it might even be on purpose this time

Lor:

ah

Lor:

"where's god in all this?" ooof, Dean

Mace:

yeah

Lor:

I love the little wing sounds when Cas shows up

Mace:

YES

Lor:

"he's gonna do it to himself" GAH

Mace:

ooof

Lor:

"WE’VE BEEN THROUGH MUCH TOGETHER YOU AND I" my A03 handle!

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

LOL the punch

Mace:

YES

Lor:

"you know what's real? people. families" oooooo I never realized that much much later when Dean asks what's real and Cas says "we are" it parallels this

Mace:

oooo NICE

Lor:

you tell him, Dean

Mace:

YES

Lor:

he just wants to give you whatever your little heart wants, Dean, keep trying

Mace:

YESYESYES

Mace:

they stand so close to each other I LOVE IT

Lor:

RIGHT?!

Lor:

*kisses whoever blocked this on the top of the head*

Mace:

“we’re done” but then when he looks back and sees Cas is gone, he’s so heartbroken

Mace:

GAH

Mace:

BOYS

Lor:

YES

Lor:

OMG NO

Mace:

RIGHT?!

Lor:

I FORGOT ABOUT THE FAKE VOICEMAIL

Mace:

STUPID ANGEL ASSHOLES

Mace:

GOD I WANT A CHEESEBURGER

Lor:

oooof and it being what Dean said that made him pause and then what he thinks Dean said pushing him over the edge

Mace:

omg Cas pushing Dean against the wall NNNNGGGG

Lor:

I'm sorry what? my brain went offline when Cas pushed Dean against the wall covering his mouth

Lor:

YAS

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

YES CAS

Mace:

HOW do people deny Destiel exists after a scene like that?!?!

Mace:

willful ignorance, clearly

Lor:

I genuinely have no idea

Lor:

blindness? homophobia?

Mace:

HA

Lor:

like, these two start eyefucking the first time they're on screen and never stop?

Mace:

RIGHT?!?!

Mace:

homophobia and dipshittery

Lor:

"we're making it up as we go" AND DEAN'S FACE

Lor:

YEP

Mace:

YES

Lor:

I feel like maybe they should have read? something about all these seals?

Mace:

right?!

Mace:

poor Sammy

Mace:

fell for the honeypot

Lor:

he really really did

Mace:

he needs comforting, but after he gets a good slap upside

Lor:

yeah

Mace:

omg the Dumbo reference is perfect

Lor:

"you had it in you the whole time, Dumbo"

Lor:

YES

Lor:

"I don't care"

Mace:

YAS

Mace:

Sammy’s FACE

Lor:

i mean, she should have known that big brother Dean was gonna kill her for what she did to Sammy. pay attention, Ruby

Lor:

YES

Mace:

yep

Lor:

and his VOICE when he says "I'm sorry"

Mace:

Sammy has SUCH a good little brother face here

Lor:

YES

Lor:

omg I LOVE that it fades to white

Mace:

YES

#watchingspnagain #watchingspnagain 4x22 #spn #supernatura #spn meta #spn spoilers #spn 4x22 #watchingspnagain angels #watchingspnagain cold open #watchingspnagain consent #watchingspnagain editorial asides #watchingspnagain sam's blood drinking #watchingspnagain season finale

[mariacallous]

Tech companies and privacy activists are claiming victory after an eleventh-hour concession by the British government in a long-running battle over end-to-end encryption.

The so-called “spy clause” in the UK’s Online Safety Bill, which experts argued would have made end-to-end encryption all but impossible in the country, will no longer be enforced after the government admitted the technology to securely scan encrypted messages for signs of child sexual abuse material, or CSAM, without compromising users’ privacy, doesn’t yet exist. Secure messaging services, including WhatsApp and Signal, had threatened to pull out of the UK if the bill was passed.

“It’s absolutely a victory,” says Meredith Whittaker, president of the Signal Foundation, which operates the Signal messaging service. Whittaker has been a staunch opponent of the bill, and has been meeting with activists and lobbying for the legislation to be changed. “It commits to not using broken tech or broken techniques to undermine end-to-end encryption.”

The UK government hadn’t specified the technology that platforms should use to identify CSAM being sent on encrypted services, but the most commonly-cited solution was something called client-side scanning. On services that use end-to-end encryption, only the sender and recipient of a message can see its content; even the service provider can’t access the unencrypted data.

Client-side scanning would mean examining the content of the message before it was sent—that is, on the user’s device—and comparing it to a database of CSAM held on a server somewhere else. That, according to Alan Woodward, a visiting professor in cybersecurity at the University of Surrey, amounts to “government-sanctioned spyware scanning your images and possibly your [texts].”

In December, Apple shelved its plans to build client-side scanning technology for iCloud, later saying that it couldn’t make the system work without infringing on its users’ privacy.

Opponents of the bill say that putting backdoors into people’s devices to search for CSAM images would almost certainly pave the way for wider surveillance by governments. “You make mass surveillance become almost an inevitability by putting [these tools] in their hands,” Woodward says. “There will always be some ‘exceptional circumstances’ that [security forces] think of that warrants them searching for something else.”

The UK government denies that it has changed its stance. Minister for tech and the digital economy, Paul Scully MP said in a statement: “Our position on this matter has not changed and it is wrong to suggest otherwise. Our stance on tackling child sexual abuse online remains firm, and we have always been clear that the Bill takes a measured, evidence-based approach to doing so.”

Under the bill, the regulator, Ofcom, will be able “to direct companies to either use, or make best efforts to develop or source, technology to identify and remove illegal child sexual abuse content—which we know can be developed,” Scully said.

Although the UK government has said that it now won’t force unproven technology on tech companies, and that it essentially won’t use the powers under the bill, the controversial clauses remain within the legislation, which is still likely to pass into law. “It’s not gone away, but it’s a step in the right direction,” Woodward says.

James Baker, campaign manager for the Open Rights Group, a nonprofit that has campaigned against the law’s passage, says that the continued existence of the powers within the law means encryption-breaking surveillance could still be introduced in the future. “It would be better if these powers were completely removed from the bill,” he adds.

But some are less positive about the apparent volte-face. “Nothing has changed,” says Matthew Hodgson, CEO of UK-based Element, which supplies end-to-end encrypted messaging to militaries and governments. “It’s only what’s actually written in the bill that matters. Scanning is fundamentally incompatible with end-to-end encrypted messaging apps. Scanning bypasses the encryption in order to scan, exposing your messages to attackers. So all ‘until it’s technically feasible’ means is opening the door to scanning in future rather than scanning today. It’s not a change, it’s kicking the can down the road.”

Whittaker acknowledges that “it’s not enough” that the law simply won’t be aggressively enforced. “But it’s major. We can recognize a win without claiming that this is the final victory,” she says.

The implications of the British government backing down, even partially, will reverberate far beyond the UK, Whittaker says. Security services around the world have been pushing for measures to weaken end-to-end encryption, and there is a similar battle going on in Europe over CSAM, where the European Union commissioner in charge of home affairs, Ylva Johannson, has been pushing similar, unproven technologies.

“It’s huge in terms of arresting the type of permissive international precedent that this would set,” Whittaker says. “The UK was the first jurisdiction to be pushing this kind of mass surveillance. It stops that momentum. And that’s huge for the world.”

[sea-dukes-assistant]

ATTN: The boomers that follow me for some reason

The abuse I'd been getting since this started dropped off roughly 2016, when I told Rachel if she wanted to have a say in what I post, she can pay me. It picked back up roughly the same time Harry was outed as being with his current wife, at the time of the Karen Occupation, and been on the upswing ever since.

For the longest time, I never understood why I received so much negative attention from your particular niche in this fandom. I never spoke to you, minded your business, nor knew you existed, yet you felt the need to mind mine, scold me, yell at me, and speak to me as though I do not deserve respect and decency, perhaps going so far as to hoping one day I'd just eat a bullet.

The theory, which is disturbing at best, for why you project your insecurities onto me (and only me) is that you can't fathom mine and younger generations being so "ourselves" because that was not a thing when you grew up. I'm sorry that was the way it was, but that is not how it is now. Times change, often for the better, even from when I was growing up in the '90s. I'm thankful for this. You lot, however, seem to have taken the fantasy/ideology of "what a man should be" and decided you are disgusted/upset that I do not fall into that mold. So you come into my house and shit all over the place like you ain't got no home training, sending me homophobic messages, personally insulting me and my intelligence, telling me I need to "get my head checked (I've had 2 neuro-pysch exams I promise you my brain functions just fine)," and going out of your way to make me hate myself. Why? So you can fix me and make me the "alpha male" of your fantasies. It's like some form of conversion therapy. This is why you're so obsessed with me. I'm not bitter that nobody else is being hated on; I'M BITTER THAT I WAS/AM SINGLED OUT.

Quite frankly, that's fucking disturbing. I'm 36. I'm a regular guy, enlisted, trying to make it through the next 10 of my career without further damaging my already broken body. I'm nobody. But y'all out here harassing me for *checks notes* living my life and being happy. Not even a single shred of empathy. Just fuckin' "SEND IT" with the constant degradation and berating and lecturing. Fuck sake I serve this country with pride, nearly had the national ensign over my casket and folded and handed to my mother before I hit 30, and this is how y'all gonna act towards me, after walking around with your metaphorical dick out, posting boomer ass Facebook graphics yelling "REPOST THE FLAG OR YOUR A COMMIE?" THAT is some fucking disrespect, not a royal in an honorary position of rank wearing a service's uniform. It's fucking disgusting...oh I'm a "brave PATRIOT" until you find out I wanna fuck some hot British guy's brains out. Then I need to shut up and "eat shit and die."

I'm not a project. I'm not responsible for your issues. I'm under no obligation to be nice to you. Your baggage is not mine to carry. You are responsible for your own behavior. I do have intellectual superiority; this is not me swinging my dick, it is fact. My ASVAB score qualified me for everything except the nuclear field. I learned college-level electronics theory in 9 months. I've had a combined 10 months of specialized training on specific systems, the most recent being the AN/GSC-52B MET. This last advancement cycle I scored in the 93rd percentile overall IN THE ENTIRE GODDAMN NAVY. My job is entirely critical-thinking, problem solving, and written/verbal communication. PEOPLE COULD DIE IF THE AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLERS CAN'T SEE THE PLANES. I have to explain to idiots officers with degrees why I can't connect a system carrying classified data to their unclassified computer to they "don't have to get up" to look at the console. Between you there's...what, 10 brain cells? You think tabloids are classic literature. IT IS A FUCKING FACT, BRENDA.

Oh and the "I hate that you were treated like that/you didn't deserve that BUT" can be shoved up your ass, as well. If that were the case, you wouldn't continue your anonymous! tirade about how I'm a fuck up, need to be nicer, how I'm treated is entirely my fault, and using Prince Philip, who is very much dead despite my wishes, as a way to emotionally manipulate me (an entirely different level of Fucking Disgusting).

The entire fucking audacity. Take your own advice and look in the mirror. YOU are the reason I'm so fucking stressed. YOU are the reason I fucking hate it here and want to leave. YOU are the reason I'm so fucking "rude" and on defense all the time. DEALING WITH YOU IS FUCKING EXHAUSTING.

#it's long I'm sorry #<- that's what Sea Duke said #but there's only so much bullshit I can take #I'm not joking when I tell y'all I hate it here #not my best work but it's honest #boomer women be miserable and I'm not here for that shit #it's very disrespectful to bae

[tibby]

I’ll admit that it’s been many years since I’ve watched the Saw movies, so my memory of Amanda’s arc isn’t the best, but didn’t she rig some of the traps so it couldn’t be disarmed in the third movie? I remember this being something she did without anyone asking her to, and she just watched people die. It was like she didn’t enjoy or like the death of some people, but not minding others at all. But again it’s been years since I watched the movies, so maybe you can correct me on this one.

yes, amanda rigged her traps. but i don't think it was ever something she did with cruelty, and it wasn't ever something that she enjoyed.

amanda, at the point in the narrative where she begins to rig her games, was tested approximately two years prior. she has spent a majority of that time with john being moulded into this ideal apprentice. she has gotten absolutely zero help for the trauma she's experienced, and is spending all her time with the man who caused it, and who tells her that it was a good thing that he did that to her. he makes her believe that he rehabilitated her and made her a better person, that she doesn't need anything or anyone else as long as she has him and his legacy.

not only is amanda's relationship with john filled with emotional manipulation and stockholm syndrome, but it's also based on a lie that john believes and amanda can't ignore: that amanda has been fixed. because of course, she hasn't been. sure, she's no longer abusing drugs, but she's still dependent on toxic things, still desperately craving something that will help her escape the pain she lives with. she's still hurting herself, both physically with cutting, and emotionally with her dependence on john. she's in an incredible awful state mentally, but the only person who is close enough to her to do anything about it, is also the person who needs amanda to be in a vulnerable position. the more broken amanda is, the easier it is for john to control her.

so amanda is in this place where she's supposed to take on john's legacy, supposed to help prove that people can be rehabilitated and change for the better. amanda is primed to take on this legacy because she was the first one to survive, and is supposed to be the perfect example that john's methods work. but since they don't work, since amanda is still damaged, she begins to view the tests and the motivations behind them differently.

amanda, in her self loathing and her trauma, reaches the conclusion that nobody is good and nobody is capable of change. she decides that john's tests and ideology are absolute bullshit, but by this point she's in so deep that she can't leave. she loves john, and she wants him to love her too. so she has to do what he asks and keep testing people, because she believes that's the way to get his approval.

but how does she play the part of the perfect apprentice for john, even when she doesn't believe in his message? she creates the games, but she makes them unbeatable. she feeds into the delusions of john's work, while never actually giving people the opportunity to change. as far as amanda's concerned, people are inherently evil and won't ever grow or appreciate life. so it's better to kill them when she can, and save them from confronting that horrible reality.

but even when she's struggling with all this, when she's drowning in her self loathing and angry at the world around her, she's still desperately clinging to notions that people are good. she wants to believe that humans will save each other, forgive one another, make personal sacrifices to look after someone else. it's why the nerve gas house absolutely destroys her. she was in there to play a role, but i think she truly wanted everyone to survive. she wanted them to help each other. she was horrified when obi died the way he did, genuinely terrified of xavier, and went out of her way to look after daniel and laura. sure, part of the reason was because daniel needed to make it to the end for the sake of eric's game, but there was still a personal connection there. and if it was all an act, then why did she look after laura? why was she genuinely upset over her death? laura didn't need to make it to the end, but amanda wanted her to. she wanted everyone to. but xavier and his cruelty makes that impossible, and i think it shatters what very little belief in humanity that amanda has left. she still wants to think that humans can be good, but by that point, she no longer thinks it's possible.

it's why she's so thrown off when people are genuinely good to her. she doesn't know how to respond to daniel matthews showing her such kindness (and god, the fact that he was one of the few people who tried to save her, when his father was one of the people who doomed her), because he's supposed to just be a pawn but she can't stop herself from growing attached. adam is nice to her for thirty seconds, and it's enough for amanda to be haunted by his ghost and filled with such guilt over what she did to him that she tries to save him (because, to amanda, a mercy kill is a save). she doesn't want to shoot lynn, lynn who has been sympathetic to her even when amanda was cruel, but she believes she has to, and sobs when she pulls the trigger. amanda wants to see the good in the world and wants to think people are kind, but she is surrounded by so much cruelty that she can't. and so it unsettles her when she does receive it.

being hurt and hurting others, using and being used are all amanda has ever known. and as painful and horrifying as those things are, they're comforting to her at this point. it is easier to cling to them than admit that there is goodness in the world, but she just wasn't worthy of receiving it.

(sidenote: the only death we know that she willingly watches, not just for the sake of the game, is detective kerry's. and there's nuance to that one. i think watching kerry die had less to do with a desire to witness violence, and more...a bizarre act of payback towards eric matthews. eric matthews ruined her life, beat her bloody, and then taunted her that she'll never be jigsaw. amanda would have known that matthews and kerry were close, that kerry was desperate to find matthews, that she still saw him in high regard even after knowing what he did to amanda and others. i don't think amanda wanted to watch kerry die. i think she wanted kerry to know that she was behind everything, that matthews was to blame, that she'd die knowing that she couldn't put amanda back in prison.)

amanda makes her games unwinnable partially out of self loathing and partially because she thinks it's a kindness. it's her self harm on a larger scale, hurting others because she hurts herself in the process. punishing them because she doesn't think she's good or loveable or worthy of forgiveness, and therefore believes that nobody is. and she also wants to prevent people from ever learning this horrible thing she believes to be true. to amanda, it is better to be dead than it is to live in a cruel world where nothing and nobody ever changes. because to amanda, maybe it would have been better if she died in her first game, all those years ago.

#ask #anonymous #meta #amanda young #this doesn't make sense but. she's everything to me.

[fancylala4]

Why Rapunzel should have cut her own hair in Tangled

Though out the movie Tangled, Rapunzel has been shown to be out of control of her own life as Gothel has been in control of everything in rapunzel’s life. One of the many aspects of her life that were out of her control was her hair. As the movie tells us, Rapunzel needed to keep her hair long because of the magical power within the hair. Once the hair is cut, the power is gone forever. We also have been shown that rapunzel views this as a gift that should always be protected, and also a burden because everyone wants to abuse it (or so she has been told). It would have been great if the writers had her cut off her own hair because she found out the truth about gothel’s intentions and shown that rapunzel had broken free of her control. Even though she relied on her hair for many years to be able to do things, rapunzel realized that it was for her own good, and she would finally be free. Instead of this, we have Flynn making the decision for her!

Flynn cutting her hair WITHOUT her consent was counterproductive to her own story. “Gothel deciding what was best for her without her consent was wrong, but Flynn doing it was ok because he actually loved her!” Yeah, that’s bs. Even if that wasn’t the writer’s intention to make it seem like that, it does come off like that. Also, the fact that he basically tricked her, so he can cut her hair, was wrong and sends a bad message to kids. Plus Rapunzel relied on her hair for many things, and it was all taken away from her without her consent. This implication could have been avoided if Rapunzel had cut her own hair. It also would have been a better end to her own story as she finally had a say into something that defined her own life.

It ruined rapunzel’s character arc in favor of Flynn’s. Flynn cut her hair off without her consent because it shows he changed, and he’s willing to die for rapunzel because he fell in love her in 3 days. How many times have we seen in a movie where a girl character gets their own arc in the story ruined because the writers needed to focus on the boy’s character arc instead? This is supposed to be rapunzel movie, but the writers made Flynn the protagonist instead because of some sexist marketing reasons. Even the climax of the movie heavily focused on Flynn and gothel. It should have focused on rapunzel and gothel as this is what the movie is about, the abusive relationship. But they reduced rapunzel to a damsel just to prop up Flynn. Hell, the people that defend Flynn cutting her hair without the consent focuses on his story arc, not rapunzel! “HE thought Rapunzel shouldn’t be defined by her hair!”, “HE loved her for her and not the hair.”, and “HE needed to complete his story arc!” As you can see from these comments, they make her seem like a damsel that couldn’t save herself. It just proves my point about this whole issue. This is supposed to be rapunzel’s movie. It’s also supposed to be a feminist take on the fairy tale. However, the movie sacrifices rapunzel’s character and choices just so Flynn can be the hero. Maybe in the live action Disney can fix it. But I won’t hold my breath.

#mine #anti tangled #tangled criticism #tangled critical #long post #anti disney #disney criticism #disney critical

[kristannefoxx]

This is just a heads up and I prob shouldn’t be posting this on the internet but it’s a way to express this because I have no other out..

TW ⚠️

Dark mindset

Deep dark thoughts

Dark mental health

Not for the light of heart

Possibly mental abuse?

Slight cursing

Basically depressing

This isn’t something I usually post honestly

Make sure you have good friends I just realized tonight that mine aren’t that really real..

I never had a best friend

I don’t think I’ve ever had a true friend that stuck with me

I attempted to seek out a therapist I have no independence aka a car to drive to see one nor a license. my sister in law wanted to know the reasons why she said the next time we hang out we can set one up- that was 6 weeks ago. It never happened.

My mother doesn’t believe me on things anymore I tell her the truth and she’s like “yea no-“

My father has absolute anger issues at times

My brothers never talk to me anymore after moving out yes I have reached out to them

I am unable to have a specific job because I need a license and my parents keep pushing it off

My wisdoms have been out for the longest time and sometimes gives me pain the only reason why I still have them is because nobody takes state insurance

The irony that made me realize this is that I was just a little sad about my boyfriend only sending text messages about prom and asking me thru a message- first I love yous where a text- asking me out was a text

I just want a normal relationship and I never find one

Friend changed the subject to himself after I told him about the prom issue

My boyfriend also has some form of mental abuse parents

My mother consistently reminding me to cut my boyfriend slack because “your his first girlfriend”

My another friend after telling them about this and venting to them after the first friend made it about themselves like my mother at times feels like their trying to creep into my relationship and destroy it to be with me

My main comfort is just posting stupid ass shit on here and reading TASM fics tbh 💀

Then having my heart broken when they have gifs of Peter with Gwen 💀

Honest to god want to be held by someone and just cry and every worry fade

It hurts to say that the only thing I really want is to be hugged by a human being

I always usually had to contact my friends first on anything or else they will not text me or check up on me at all

I’m afraid of many things in this world and it includes Narctophobia and a consistent fear of death

I can’t comprehend why people who are like me, if covered in fur are isolated by society because they have fur

Wanting to send screenshots of this to the people I am referring to but afraid of what they will say do and or think, could they possibly be upset or mad or anything

If anyone reads this and finds this “attention seeking” or “like seeking or reblog seeking” honestly fuck you, not everyone can get out right away and has different ways of expressive behavior they can at the time.

If anyone else reads this and finds this relatable

Please.seek.help. ❤️

You can and u will recover ❤️‍🩹

You can do anything ❤️

Learn from this ❤️

And honest to got this made me feel so much better just venting this out

I’m honestly sorry if I wasted anyone’s time or hurt anyone or caused any problems whatsoever on this because of this post

…be there for your friends…please..even anyone

Ligit thought of the song “snowfall” after rereading this- it fits it in some form or another

#dark thoughts #mental health #mentalheathawareness #mentally tired #mentally exhausted #mental illness #mentally fucked #fixed mindset #tw abuse #emotional abuse #depressing shit #tw depressing thoughts #tw depressing stuff #sorry for being depressing #kinda depressing

[aotopmha]

Looking at all of the FF16 posts I've made, I think I've touched on pretty much everything I've wanted in regards of the story.

I've talked about the characters, the pacing, the spectacle and the ending with all of the positives and negatives that come with them.

From the frustrations of an ambigious ending to the compelling elements. From fantastic character writing to too little time given to fantastic characters.

And I think only the key themes of the story are left to discuss, which requires me to go much more in-depth on Clive.

I think I'll start with the issues.

And #1 on this list is that Joshua survived.

Clive's character arc about owning up to what he did despite it not entirely being by his choice is undermined by the fact that he met Joshua again and that Joshua is alive again to begin with.

This is an extremely old trope many stories fall victim to, often undermining many otherwise fantastic character stories.

In fact, most of the implied deaths from that night don't happen. Torgal, Ambrosia and Wade are alive.

(And I am actually happy the animal abuse is lighter than first lead on, but the humans should be dead for Clive's character arc to fully hold water.)

And yeah, Murdoch still died by Ifrit and Pheonix and so did many other soldiers. Bringing in Hanna is a fantastic narrative choice to make Clive face his past.

Clive also suffered much as a slave, so he still has a bunch issues and hurt to work through, but Joshua is the key target of his survivor's guilt and self-blame.

As much as I love what results from them meeting again, I think the new Phoenix should've been a new character that Clive met early on (after his self-battle) and slowly ended up building a strong friendship with, which would've given Clive even further opportunity to reflect and move on from what he "did".

Much more cynical people would probably say this detail entirely ruins the story because it literally takes away the primary reason for Clive's guilt, but I think because some of the death stuck and Clive put in the work before he met Joshua, it gives the foundation a shake, rather than plain destroying it.

Jill actually has Clive's arc, but without any of these issues because it is kept mostly on general armies – we see her kill many as Shiva without setting a very specific character as a target for her guilt, but I think it is still just as effective.

Thematic issue #2 is Clive's hero complex of taking everything upon himself.

It's great that Jill brings this up many times, but depending on how you read the ending, it still feeds into him continuing to sacrifice himself.

This is a much less egrigious potential misstep, which actually can be explained by Clive once again being forced into an awful choice, but I think one worth bringing up regardless.

I think the stronger aspect here are the themes and allegory surrounding the mothercrystals.

I'd even argue the message of energy abuse and conflation of Ultima with the world's elite and how this is connected to dismantling broken power systems is one of the better ones I've seen because it tends to be so, so extremely heavy-handed in 90% of stories that explore it.

What stories also often don't do is connect the resource hoarding with the suffering of the poor.

The elite hoarding resources for themselves and then wanting to kill the "lesser" for not "being perfect" and to "clean the world of them because they ruined my paradise" isn't more subtle, but it is more layered than just "mining bad" or "nuclear weapons bad".

And for a system to change, it had to be destroyed from the very foundation, in this case, destroying the hurtful system of Mothercrystals, Bearers, Dominants and Eikons.

I've seen people read the destruction of the source of all magic as an insult to Final Fantasy because magic is what makes the fantasy, but I think that's not the allegory this story is going for.

The crystals represent an oppressive system in this narrative.

And oppressive systems don't usually fall without heavy sacrifices.

Looked at from this perspective, the interpretation that Clive died at the end also makes sense.

You generally can't destroy a long-standing system without spilling any blood. It often takes the lives of many brave and great people especially for any change to take place.

And this struggle also entails a journey to self-actualisation and awareness for the oppressed.

(In this game this entails the people gaining freedom from the elite of the various countries and in turn freedom from Ultima.)

If the systems stand for a long time, the people under them become complacent and comfortable – "used to it" and hostile to anyone who would break the status quo because what awaits them might be worse than what they have now.

I really like how the narrative addresses this through Cid and later Clive and how they are looked down upon by the Bearers they rescue.

And I really like how Barnabas is a culmination of this defeatism in face of the system.

Accepting the system and relinquishing free will is the easier option because the alternative brings too much pain.

These themes are the reason why I don't dismiss Barnabas and Ultima outright as characters.

They are one-dimensional concepts, but they are relevant concepts that are interesting on an idea level if you dig a little bit.

And Annabella is fantastic because that kind of obsession with eugenics and pure blood is exactly what leads to the end she got. Self-destruction.

I think in general the story is super strong thematically. Clive is my biggest issue because of Joshua, but I think the ideas stand. Ultima and Barnabas just needed better prose.

I've seen complaints about thematic inconsistency, but how it starts on a smaller scale and moves to a cosmic one while sticking to the same themes is one of the strongest aspects of the story for me.

#Final Fantasy 16 #Final Fantasy XVI #FFXVI #FF16 #Final Fantasy #FF