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oh-my-may · 4 years

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Tsukishima, Sugawara and Kuroo getting prank ignored for a day

requested: hii, i really like it the getting prank ignored for a day, can u make this again but w/ tsukki, suga and kuroo

Hiii! I’m finally back??? This took forever lmao and I have to say I’m not this satisfied with it but I wanted to post something again? So I’lllet your guys’ feedback decide :)

Hopefully I’ll be able to work on some more requests until uni starts again, but we’ll see. Enjoy this until then! xx

Tsukishima Kei:

Sometimes Kei was... just Kei. In the months of your relationship he had grown a lot more used to you and you noticed how he softened with every day you spent together. That was... Until exams approached and the volleyball matches got more intense, too.

He forgot lunch dates and meetups, study sessions and he even texted you less. Of course you could understand him, he was very busy, but you felt like air to him. You didn’t even see him in school anymore. You were the one keeping the contact up, he only ever responded to your messages with an emoji or a simple sentence.

It got so frustrating to the point where you thought you might as well cut off all ends for a day. Not trying to get your mind occupied with him, just concentrating on school, your friends and yourself for a day.

However when you woke up, you were surprised to see that he had actually send you a message. Karasuno had a practice match this afternoon and he invited you to come and watch them because he knew you enjoyed watching them all play. You felt a wave of euphoria washing through your body, but then you remembered your little “game” and put your phone away.

by the time you’ve reached lunch you received a few more messages from him, mostly a bunch of question marks because you haven’t answered yet, questions whether you were still asleep or sick at home. You weren’t, you sat in the same places as usual in school.

You yourself grew impatient as the end of school was nearing and you were considering actually showing up in order to see him. You couldn’t even focus on class anymore and that’s when you knew your plan had failed. Instead of being able to focus more on other things, even now your mind was filed with thoughts of Tsukishima.

You sighed and gave up when you left the school building after your last class and saw his tall body towering over the rest of the students. His body language may not be obvious to many other people, but it is to you and you knew that he was searching for something. Looking for you.

You figured there was no way out of this for you anymore, so you just walked your usual way towards the exit, your way crossing him. He almost didn’t notice you right away, but his long arms stops you right in your tracks. “What, were you just gonna walk right past me? You seem a bit distracted today Y/N.”

You can just stare back at him. He doesn’t exactly looks worried, but something in his tone tells you he knows that something is going on. So he wasn’t quite that onblivious, but he still didn’t get what exactly was urking you. “Tsukki, really...” You sigh and move your wrist out of his hand which he wasn’t holding that tight anyway, he was just trying to stop you. “I just thought I could try and ignore you for some time, since I’ve basically been air to you lately with all your exams and volleyball stuff.” You try not to, because you know he hates it when you do, but you can’t help but huff a bit and sound kind of bitter with a slight pout on your lips that forms naturally.

There’s some silence spreading between you and you just look into the distance as you await a reaction from him. He also hates it when you don’t look at him when you talk to him like that, when it’s about something serious. So naturally, you expect a harsh reaction from him, but you’re surprised when his fingertips softly brush the top of your head, his fingers threading through some strands of your hair. When you look up you can actually clearly see the bitter regret in his eyes and face, a deep thoughtful fold on his forehead. “Kei?” you mumble a bit regretful, seeing as he’s really deep in his thoughts over your words.

“I didn’t even notice.” he just answers and puts his hand down, just to take your hand in his and intertwining your fingers. “I’m still not used to this, please excuse my behaviour.” You can just smile and coo at this, squeezing his hand and surprising him when you practically jump up to place a kiss on his cheek. “Just talk to me next time, yeah?”

Sugawara Koushi:

It wouldn’t naturally occur to you to just ignore your boyfriend for a day. Not Suga, since he was practically the sweetest and most considerate human being you ever encountered on this planet and he was cherishing you with every inch of his being. Alone the thought of him made you smile.

But your friends could be evil sometimes. You loved them, they were your friends for a reason after all, but they could do very “cruel” things sometimes, like daring you to ignore your boyfriend for a whole day. You felt like not doing it, but maybe you could proof to yourself that not everything in your life is dependent on him. You are your own being, after all. A day has 24 hours, 8 of which you normally spend in bed and around another 7 in class without him, so that leaves only about 9 hours without him. Shouldn’t be that hard, right?

But your heart already aches when you don’t allow yourself to answer his goodnight messages. That doesn’t seem to be that big of a deal to him though “You’re probably already asleep, huh? Sleep well! I hope you dream of me <3″. You smile to yourself but put your phone away, trying not to think too much about the next day.

In the morning there are already more messages from him waiting for you. “Good morning! I hope you slept well! Can’t wait to see you today <3 You’re always welcome to watch practice if you don’t have anything else to do!” There’s a sting in your heart as you swipe them away and prepare everything for the day. Your lucky it’s a wednesday, that means today your boyfriend doesn’t walk you to school, but you meet your friends halfway to school. You try not to let the teasing get to you and just make your way to and through school as quickly as you can, not even noticing that you rush right past Suga. He tries to stop you in surprise, but he fails because you’re too fast and he’s left wondering. Maybe you just didn’t see him in the crowd of people?

Luckily during your first classes that day you don’t receive any messages, as Sugawara is a responsible pupil that doesn’t like using his phone in class (be like Suga!!) But when you try your best to avoid him during lunch, he gets very suspicious and asks to go to the restroom in class just so he can text you. On the way there he walks past your classroom and can’t help but spend a minute watching you, hoping that maybe through some telepathic power you look his way. Of course you don’t though. Instead you’re surprised how easy it is to focus on class as you try to push the thoughts about your boyfriend away and distract yourself with something else.

As the school bell rings Suga is the first one out of his classroom, surprising all his classmates. He ignores Daichi’s calls saying that he shouldn’t forget about practice today. Instead Koushi runs through the hallway to your classroom to catch you right as you walk out.

You almost scream when you feel someone grabbing you and pulling you aside, until you realize its your birthday. You’re relieved for a second until you remember your bet and then give up with a sigh as you watch your freinds walking by behind Suga, dragging their fingers over their throats and acting as though they’re crying. You drag your eyes back to Suga who looks you up and down more worried than you’ve ever seen him.

“Y/N! What’s wrong? You didn’t reply to any of my messages and ignored me completely during the breaks!” He lloks frustrated and desperate for an explanation and you can’t help but smile a little at his words, raising on of your hands up to caress his cheek. “I’m sorry.” is all you can bring over your lips before you press your face against his chest and wrap your arms tightly around his torso.

You spend a while in this position until you can get yourself to explain everything to him and your voice is so filled with regret he just can’t be mad at you. He couldn’t ever be mad at you. He just tells you to never to something like that again, because he really felt like he did something horribly wrong, and then you walk to his practice hand in hand. Like that, you can even bear you friends teasing. You wouldn’t ever go without a single day without Suga, that’s what you learned.

Kuroo Tetsurou:

It was a dumb idea, really. You would have never agreed to this. But you can be stubborn sometimes, and you also would not loose a bet to Kenma, Yaku and Lev. Ignoring Kuroo for 24 hours - it couoldn’t be that hard, right? “It’s what I’m trying to do for as many hours as possible, Y/N. I would be glad if someone asked me to do that.” Kenma said in an unimpressed manner while not looking up from his game. You sighed and just left them standing there without a word, as Yaku and Lev kept on shouting things they want if you loose the bet. Which was not gonna happen. You hoped.

In the morning it was usually you that texted him first, asking about his sleep and what his day was gonna be like. It was easy not to that, though, because he never answered over text and instead just read them and answered them when you saw him in school.

Getting out of Kuroos way in school was a bit tricky, though, as he normally greeted you in front of your classroom. Sometimes he was already waiting in the door frame. You cringed a bit when you saw him standing there, but maybe the best way to go was just acting as though he wasn’t there. Just dodging under his arm and walking right to your seat and then striking a conversation with one of your classmates as soon as possible so he wouldn’t get the chance to talk to you. And it was even easier to do in practice. Kuroo was caught off guard when you just walked right past him and he could just observe your figure in the room with a surprised look. “Okay.” he said to himself quietly and left and you were almost relieved thaht when you turned around he wasn’t there. Of course it hurt you to just ignore him like that. You could just blame the others if it went wrong, right?

During lunch you literally sprinted out of the room into the restroom and waited a good 15 minuted there. Just so you could be sure he wasn’t in the cafeteria anymore, because he liked being the first one there. You could just imagine him sitting there with a free space next to him, looking around and waiting for you. Your heart clenched and you felt miserable. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. You were just hurting yourself at this point.

With your head hanging down you left the toilets behind and waited in front of his classroom. Slowly all his classmates came and went inside, but Kuroo didn’t show up until 1 minute before the bell. You looked up in relief and then ran right into his arms, almost causing him to fall. “Woah, all of a sudden, Y/N?” He laughs into your ear and you can’t hold back a dry sob. “Yaku, Lev and Kenma mde me do it I’m sorry I’m such an idiot.”

Kuroo just giggles even more as he works his hands over your hair to soothe you. “No one can resist me for long I guess.” he sighs and makes you look up to him by placing a hand under your chin. “Yaku, Lev and Kenma you say? I’ll make sure they’ll practice some extra serves and run more laps today.” His thumb travels over the soft skin of your lips as he considers: “Or for the rest of the week, or the whole month, or until the next match.” His hand wanders along your neck until he plays with the hair at the top of your head again. “Just don’t do something like that to me ever again sweetheart.” Then he places a soft kiss on your jaw and vanishes inside of his classroom.

For as long as they have to do extra practice, you don’t get anything else from Yaku and Lev other than evil glances. They still make you buy them their favorite snack, though.

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tinyshe · 3 years

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Awareness Foundation COVID-19 Roundtable

Story at-a-glance

The Awareness Foundation COVID-19 Roundtable is a sign of wakefulness and hope during times of censorship and suppression

It includes honest opinions and expertise from 14 high-profile doctors, including myself, with a focus on the potential dangers being posed by the experimental mass COVID-19 vaccination campaign

Experts discuss how COVID-19 vaccines may cause a coming tsunami of hospitalization and deaths, along with debilitating chronic disease, early signs of which are already appearing

All agree that there’s enough evidence to halt the global COVID-19 vaccination campaign, either for everyone or — particularly — for those to whom the vaccines pose the greatest risks with little to no benefit, namely children and young people, pregnant women and those who have already recovered from COVID-19

In this time of extreme censorship and suppression of scientific debate, The Awareness Foundation COVID-19 Roundtable,1 hosted by Katherine Macbean of the Awareness Foundation, is a sign of wakefulness and hope. It includes honest opinions and expertise from 14 high-profile doctors, including myself, with a focus on the potential dangers being posed by the experimental mass COVID-19 vaccination campaign.

Each has faced censorship when speaking out, and though there are some differing viewpoints, all agree that there’s enough evidence to halt the global COVID-19 vaccination campaign, either for everyone or — particularly — for those to whom the vaccines pose the greatest risks with little to no benefit. This includes children and young people, pregnant women and those who have already recovered from COVID-19.

I highly recommend setting aside two hours to watch this roundtable discussion in full — it’s a rarity in the present day to hear such candor and open debate. However, I’ve also compiled some of the highlights below, which include warnings about the dangers these experimental vaccines may pose to society.

A Tsunami of Chronic Disease and Death

Will COVID-19 vaccines cause a coming tsunami of hospitalization and deaths, along with debilitating chronic disease? One expert on the panel, Dr. Peter McCullough, an internist, cardiologist, epidemiologist and full professor of medicine at Texas A&M College of Medicine in Dallas with a master's degree in public health, said he’s focused more on the short-term adverse effects from the shot. These nonfatal injuries fall into four major categories:

Neurologic

Immunologic

Hematologic

Cardiac

“What I'm seeing is just the late emergence of various neurologic syndromes. And it probably depends on where the seeding occurs of, uh, of, you know, the uptake of the genetic material in the brain or support cells in the brain, but there's a whole variety of cerebral, cerebellar, even peripheral nervous system abnormalities,” McCullough said, adding:2

“I've seen it in my clinic and they seem to be emerging three, four or five, six months later after vaccination … So I'm getting increasingly alarmed here that this is not just a simple one- or two-day problem. And so there's great concern, particularly in younger kids that over a course of three or six or nine months, they'll end up with heart failure or cardiac death.

… What I see is, potentially from these signals, not mass death, but just a large number of Americans and people around the world with a new chronic disease of some sort of neurodegenerative disease or cardiac disease. The patients that I'm aware of, these problems seem to be quite disabling.”

Another panel member, Dr. Vladimir Zelenko, who has treated thousands of COVID-19 patients using hydroxychloroquine (HCQ), azithromycin and zinc sulfate,3 with great success, has a different take. He believes there is a very distinct possibility that everyone who receives the COVID jab may die from complications in the next two to three years:4

“I'm just going to give you the perspective of a clinician who deals with people that are dying … 4 million dead people can testify to the unique clinical syndrome to put them there. Basically, a natural animal virus was changed to infect humans, and then its lethality was augmented to cause blood clots and lung damage.

And in concept here, we're dealing with a Hitler/Stalin type of mentality with weapons of mass destruction and the way to win this war — and it's very winnable — is in the following manner. It's a narrative war. So we need to spread the following two ideas … Don't give into the fear and choose to destroy yourself, No. 1. No. 2, treat your problem early. If these two ideas could penetrate the fixed calls of humanity, then it's really the end of this crisis.”

Dr. Tess Lawrie, whose company The Evidence-Based Medicine Consultancy has worked with the World Health Organization, agreed that the vaccines are unsafe for children and adults alike:5

“They're actually not safe for anybody, and it's clear. The databases are screaming. The databases are early warning systems, and the databases around the world are screaming that we are facing a tsunami of chronic disease.”

Inflammatory Disorders, Cancer Markers on the Rise

Dr. Richard Urso, an ophthalmologist in Houston, Texas, is also concerned:6

“Early on, we were seeing things, mostly thrombotic, but later, as we get into two and three months [after vaccination], we’re seeing a lot of inflammatory issues. I’ve had a host of people with inflammatory ocular disorders, as well as having orbital inflammatory diseases.

I typically don’t see this rash number of people. For people who don’t know, my clinical practice is probably one of the largest in the United States, if not the largest, and we get a tremendous number, in volume, of patients who come through our office. And I’m seeing late inflammatory disease, and it responds quite well to inflammatory medicines.”

Some have brushed off the notion that the virus could be a bioweapon because it didn’t cause sudden, mass deaths. But this is a misconception. A successful bioweapon can be something that causes long-term, progressive, chronic-type diseases, noted Dr. Richard Fleming, a physicist, nuclear cardiologist and attorney.

In 1994, Fleming introduced the theory of inflammation and vascular disease, which explains why these inflammable thrombotic diseases, and the causes, including viruses like SARS-CoV-2, produce disease states like COVID-19.

“As I laid out in the theory in 1994,” Fleming said, “you're going to see an inflammable thrombotic response. That’s the primary thing that people are noticing, be that heart disease or retinol disease.” The other factor is a prion component of this virus, “which is also a chronic smoldering disease.” Fleming noted:7

“If you're going to actually develop something that's going to have a massive effect on your ‘enemy,’ your goal isn't to kill the enemy any more than it was the goal of the United States in Vietnam to kill the enemy.

The goal was to maim the enemy so that more of the enemy would be taken off the field. What we've seen is something that's been implemented that is an ideal by a weapon designed to demoralize and to feed people the enemy, and to cause a slow smoldering process.”

Fleming cited data from Pfizer that showed in the 12 to 14 days following the second injection of the Pfizer mRNA vaccine, elderly individuals had a 2.6-fold increase in symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease. “This is an inflammable thrombotic process affecting every organ system and prion diseases that not only affect the brain, but also affect the heart and other vital organs of the body.”8

Dr. Ryan Cole, a Mayo Clinic-trained, triple-boarded pathologist, also said that he’s seeing potential cancer-causing changes, including decreases in receptors that keep cancer in check, and other adverse events post-vaccine:9

“I’m seeing countless adverse reactions … it's really post-vaccine immunodeficiency syndrome … I'm seeing a marked increase in herpetic family viruses, human papilloma viruses in the post-vaccinated. I'm seeing a marked uptick in a laboratory setting from what I see year over year of an increase of usually quiescent diseases.

In addition to that — and correlation is not causation — but in the last six months I have seen — you know, I read a fair amount of women's health biopsies — about a 10- to 20-fold increase of uterine cancer compared to what I see on an annual basis. Now we know that the CD8 cells are one of our T-cells to keep our cancers in check.

I am seeing early signals … what I'm seeing is an early signal in the laboratory setting that post-vaccinated patients are having diseases that we normally don't see at rates that are already early considerably alarming.”

Do the Vaccinated Pose a Risk to the Unvaccinated?

Sherri Tenpenny has heard thousands of anecdotal reports that something is being transmitted from the vaccinated to the unvaccinated:10

“We're injecting a synthetically made messenger RNA and strips of synthetically made double-stranded DNA by different mechanisms, and if that transmission goes to the other person, they don't get COVID, they don't get COVID symptoms that we typically recognize as COVID. They get bleeding, they get blood clots, they get headaches, they get heart disease, they get all of these different things.”

Dr. Robert Malone, the inventor of the mRNA and DNA vaccine core platform technology,11 doesn’t agree that anything is being “passed” from vaccinated people to others, adding that while it may be possible for mRNA to be shed through breast milk to nursing infants, possibly causing gastrointestinal symptoms, anything else is just speculation.

Others suggest it could be more of a hormonal or pheromonal issue than some type of “shedding,” which may help explain why women are also reporting abnormalities with their menstrual cycles following vaccination. Dr. Lee Merritt, an orthopedic and spinal surgeon, brought up a 2015 report by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, which looked at “shedding” in mRNA vaccines, which they call gene therapies.12 She explained:13

“They talk about, they're very concerned about the shedding — and they do call it shedding, whether that's technically correct … And they tell you in this thing who to protect, they tell you to protect neonates, immunocompromised people and elderly with bad immune systems.

They also say, we don't know what's being shed. They say it could be genetic material. It could be activated viruses and it could be a recombinant product. This is what's in the FDA data.”

Immediately Halt the Vaccine Program

All of the experts agreed that evidence suggests the mass COVID-19 vaccination program should be halted. “There is enough evidence now just from the European Medicines Agency alone, 1.7 million in reported adverse events and 17,000 deaths that the four clinical trials should be stopped,” said Dolores Cahill, a professor at the school of medicine at the University College Dublin.

“They are detailed in the classifications, cardiac related immune, uh neuropathological and fertility associated.

So I think we all have duties as doctors and scientists to say, if something is causing more harm than good, which this clearly is, we should, I think, unify and called for a stop to the clinical trials worldwide, and also that any individual prime ministers and regulators that continue the trial would have to be liable for any adverse events.”

Malone believes that the vaccines have merit for certain populations, namely the elderly, but is advocating for prohibition on vaccination for infants and newborns, through young adults up to ages 30 to 35. “And specifically,” he said, “I'm trying to stop this crazy effort to force universities and schools to have universal vaccination.” In addition, he added:

“We can argue about risk-benefit for elderly, but the risk-benefit ratio for newborns through young adults is explicitly clear. It is upside down. It's not subtle there. You're going to kill more. And, and personally, I also feel that we can dig in really hard on the reproductive health in pregnancy, in women, that there just aren't data to support the use of this product because of the potential female reproductive health consequences.”

Dr. Urso added the other significant population that has far more to risk than gain from vaccination: the COVID-recovered. “The immune status should be more important than the vaccination status,” he said.

“So I think there's three groups that are easily winnable arguments [to avoid vaccination]: pregnant women, the young and … the COVID recovered … I mean, that's a, that's a lousy thing to do to get all these people that are COVID recovered, good immune status and give them a vaccination for something they don't need.”

How to End Fear and Optimize Your Immune System

The roundtable participants are planning to continue their discussion offline to formally request an end to mass COVID-19 vaccination for the mentioned groups as well as create a statement to end government interference with the practice of medicine. Many physicians have had their hands tied when it comes to prescribing early treatments for COVID-19, like ivermectin. As Fleming noted:

“… The reason why people die with COVID is because they're not receiving treatment, so I would argue that we need to make certain that people, the physicians, are allowed to treat without government interference and that we put a hold on the dissemination of the vaccines at this point in time, until we can further investigate them safely.”

Dr. Sam White, whose reputation has been under attack since he released a video on social media detailing his concerns about the suppression of the science around therapeutics in the U.K., added:

“We could end the fear overnight by allowing access to therapeutics and changing the mainstream media narrative that there's no need for masks. There's no need for lock downs. This is more treatable than flu, as far as I'm concerned, we're just not allowed to do any treatment. If the public knew that it changes the narrative overnight.”

While we work on changing the narrative, or at least opening up discussions of science outside of the narrative, it’s always a good idea to optimize your immune system.

Toward this end, I recommend optimizing your vitamin D levels to 60 to 80 nanograms per milliliter and improving your metabolic flexibility so your body can seamlessly transition between burning fats and glucose as your primary fuel. One way to do this is to condense your eating window to about six to eight hours a day.

Even without changing your calories, this can make a profound difference, but from a perspective of choosing the right foods, one of the most important strategies that I’ve learned over my four decades of studying this is to avoid processed foods, nearly all of which are loaded with vegetable, or seed, oils.

These oils have a high content of linoleic acid, which contributes to mitochondrial instability and increases susceptibility to oxidative stress. This, in turn, increases immune dysfunction and mitochondrial dysfunction. These are simple strategies I recommend, as they're useful to improve your overall health and resiliency to fight any infection.

As mentioned, I highly recommend listening to the discussion in full to get all of the details that weren’t included here. At the next meeting, the group plans to discuss how to move forward to challenge the narrative in greater detail, including fighting back against the organizations, such as the Wellcome Trust and the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, that are heavily investing in this.

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ceeyuin666 · 5 years

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Disney Villains Recruiting: An Introduction

Better late than never, I hope? There’s a few out there already, and I’m way too late considering the shows are over, but here’s my take on a introduction to the world of Tokyo Disney’s Villains Recruiting program.

This introduction includes a run down of the show and its amazing characters that took social media by storm.

If you’ve the courage to seek true beauty of elegance than proceed… into the Villains World.

All photos in this post were taken by myself, please do not repost on other blogs, websites or social media networks such as Twitter or Instagram!

The Concept

During the years 2015-2018, Tokyo Disneysea’s Halloween celebrated the wonderful world of Disney’s famous Villains. While the main Villains like Maleficent and Ursula dominated parades such as The Villains World and the night fireworks of Fantasmic!, their team of underlings were sent to work in the smaller parts of the park.

So every Halloween, the area of American Waterfront rolled out a red carpet and welcomed ten unique characters, each based off a famous Disney Villain, who’s sole purpose was to recruit humans into the Villains World. The program was known as Disney Villains Recruiting.

The Show

The original show, with a game known as the Six Poses Dance itself was a 15-20 minute skit that took place every hour or so at American Waterfront. Six of the ten ‘Recruiters’ would come out, along with two hosts, meaning in order to catch all ten characters, you would have to make multiple visits to the park.

Each Recruiter quickly introduced themselves and showed off a unique pose that represented them. Then the show becomes a game of Simon Says where the hosts will call out a Recruiters name and guests must respond with the correct pose. The game usually became chaotic when the hosts starting yelling out random things and guests could watch the Recruiters scramble to match whatever was being asked for them.

Finally, a guest would be picked out of the audience to participate in the game alongside the Recruiters. At the end of the game, the guest would be asked if they have now been convinced to come join the Villains World. If they say no, there would be a loud cry of disappointment and the disgruntled Recruiters would drag the guest back to their seat. If yes, after the yelps of joy, the guest would be asked to return to the Tower of Terror in 666 years where the Recruiters would be eagerly waiting for them.

In 2016-2017, a second show, called Villains One Point Course was introduced to rotate with the now Special Pose Dance show. Each show only consisted of two Recruiters, six would appear throughout the day. Similar to before, the two present Recruiters would introduce themselves and their pose before going into a game similar to Rock Paper Scissors, except you had to match the pose the Recruiter was doing- which was almost always their own pose so it wasn’t hard to get it right. Two guests would then be selected and have their outfits judged by two new hosts who would then offer one point that would make them Villain Worthy.

In 2018, the show returned to its original format of the Six Pose Dance and the One Point Course, along with its hosts, did not return.

The Hosts

Mr. V

Known as the grandmaster of the program, Mr. V is the lead host of the original Six Pose Dance show. He appears to be in charge of the Recruiters and they all speak to him with respect, sometimes calling him Mister or V-san for short.

He is a rather relaxed character much like a father watching all his chaotic children make a mess he doesn’t have to clean up. More often than not he keeps to himself in the background while the others perform, only ever speaking up to scold them or laugh at them when they make a mistake.

Mr. V is however rather possessive of his assistant, Ms Scatter, who, despite her years of hard work, he refuses to acknowledge her as a real Villain.

Despite the similarities in their designs, this character has no relation with Dr. Facilier from the Princess and the Frog.

Ms. Scatter

Scatter is the human representative of the show and represents in the audience in that she is constantly fawning over how beautiful and enticing the Villains World looks from the outside and her own goal is to one day join them. In the early years she runs around interrupting the Recruiters, calling out to guests to not be deceived by their wickedness despite how gorgeous and tempting it may be.

She is the one character that goes through considerable character growth over the course of the four years and her costume also changes slightly each year. In the beginning, she is reckless and clumsy, the Recruiters picked on her, bullied her and Mr. V very much controlled her. By the end she laughed with them as though they were equal and spoke back to Mr. V whenever she disagreed with him.

In the 2018 show, the Villains offered recruited guests a flag with the mark of a true Villain which they would be granted when they return in 666 years. At the end of the show, as the Recruiters left, Scatter would stay behind and reveal to the audience the mark of a true Villain which was on the inside of her jacket. When Mr. V comes to chase her about what’s taking her so long, she hides the mark and turns to the audience, signalling them to keep her secret. This suggests that even without Mr. V and the others knowing, she has graduated into a real Villain.

Ms. Villa

Host of the One Point Course, Ms Villa is the self proclaimed fashion diva of the Villains World. She is stylish and mature, strutting around offering advice to guests on how to better their outfits.

She is very much in her own world as she parades around the show, completely ignoring the panicked cries of her assistant whenever she rambles off about an idea that is clearly unrealistic. To the Recruiters however she is rather motherly, giving them pet names and teasing them like children.

While she holds a very welcoming aura, she always catches the audience by surprise at the end of the show where she demands payment for her services.

Mr. Polite

Known as MP or Polite for short, he is Ms Villa’s assistant during the One Point Course show. He is more put together than Scatter but also spends a lot of the show yelling after Ms Villa.

When left to his own accord, MP is sneaky and playful, even over confident in himself but his job is mostly to keep Ms Villa from going over the top with the guests so that is his main focus. He seems more well informed of the human world, unlike the other Villains and has to reign them in when they’re being unreasonable such as asking him to buy them snacks from the park.

He gets along well with the rest of the Recruiters who all treat him as their own personal assistant, something he does not seem to mind. He gets along particularly well with Daru who he usually promises to take on a walk after the show.

The Recruiters

Apple Poison

Themed off the poison apple used to put Snow White into an eternal sleep, Apple works for the Evil Queen from the film Snow White.

Tall, dark and handsome, Apple has the most mature look of the men’s Recruiters, and coming from the oldest Disney animated him, he is teased by his workmates and guests alike for being the family ‘uncle’ or ‘old man’. There are many times where he also has trouble keeping up with the right poses or falls from pranks by the others, showing he’s also quite naive.

Apple is the most charming of the men’s Recruiters, his quotes usually laced with cheesy offers of escorting guests or sweeping them away. He normally keeps to himself while the others are running around, though his ongoing rivalry with Jack brings out a more immature side to him.

He is also the best English speaker of the cast as his main quotes are also half in English and he often lectures guests in English as well. He is constantly blowing kisses to guests or his prop posing apple, drawing out squeals of excitement from guests.

Quotes 🍎Ladies and Gentlemen, one bite of this sweet apple with make you the most beautiful in the world. 🍎Like how the poison intoxicates this apple, allow me to intoxicate you all.

Jack Heart

Hailing from Wonderland, Jack works for the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland. He makes jokes of turning back into a playing card so it can be assumed he is the personification of the jack of hearts card.

Jack is known as the entertainer of the Villains World and he is indeed very entertaining to watch. While the others strut along the red carpet, Jack is always seen skipping around, cutting corners and getting right into the faces of guests. Even when standing in one spot he is usually stretching strangely or contorting for the enjoyment of the guests.

As a super playful character, Jack gets along best with Dalmetia who he calls his best friend. The two get along very well and walk around linking arms and high-fiving each other all the time. On the flip side, Jack seems to down right hate Apple who he will taunt and make faces at. While it’s not clearly stated why their relationship is so bad, it seems to purely because Jack hates Apple for being so much taller than him.

He is also one of the only Recruiters that does not react happily at the mention of their Master; instead, when the Queen of Hearts is brought up, Jack usually hides in fear, clutches his neck in case he’ll be beheaded or runs away.

Quotes ❤️My world it the world of entertainment! And that’ll make your heart go- Aow! ❤️Like how Alice found Wonderland, so long as you all hold darkness in your hearts, I’ll appear before you again just like the Cheshire Cat.

Mr. Dalmetia

A puppy given a human body by his Master Cruella De Vil from the film 101 Dalmatians.

Mr. Dalmetia, Daru for short, is an excitable and selfish character who is usually chasing after his best friend Jack or running away from Scar. He teases everyone, friends and guests alike in a crude manner, sticking his tongue out at people or pushing over their toys. Some of the others tease him with games of fetch and he will go sprinting across the performance area, then return extremely grumpy when he realises he’s been duped.

While Daru and Jack are best friends, Daru generally gets along well enough with the rest of the men’s Recruiters. Scar, from the ladies team, is obviously madly in love with him- a feeling he does not reciprocate. For four years, he runs from her, turns her down her advances and down right rejects her any chance he gets. However, at the end of 2018, while hesitant, he agrees to wait alongside her until the guests come see them again in 666 years.

He is the very embodiment of a puppy and even Mr. V comments during his introduction that he’s yet to shake all his canine habits; he is sometimes caught sitting like a dog, scratching his neck as though there’s a collar there and bugging the others after the show to take him for a walk.

Quotes 🐶This is my WAN-derful pose! 🐶Everyone, you have to look after your cute little pets. After all... it is common enough to wear fur here, right?

Malfie

Holding his Master in the highest regard is Malfie who works for Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty. His name has also been romanised by fans as Malfi, Malfy or Malefy- while Malfi is likely most directly accurate, I personally am too use to writing it as Malfie, though none of the above would be considered incorrect.

The most narcissistic of the Recruiters, even dubbed Nar-fie, Malfie carries a hand mirror around with him at all times so that he can always admire his own beauty. On the off chance one of the other members manages to sneak away with the mirror, he becomes uncharacteristically frantic until he can find it again.

While Malfie does not love anyone like he loves himself, he gets along with a majority of the other characters fairly well, particularly Joe and Farja. He is also the most popular victim when the ladies decide to start bullying the men’s team- Farja, despite the fact that she and Malfie get along, is most likely to lead the charge in picking on him.

Malfie is in canon the personification of a crow, whether or not he is Maleficent’s crow that appears in the movie is unclear. He does however, consider Diaval from the live action movie Maleficent his rival in beauty.

Quotes 😈It is I! 😈Beauty like mine could grant you whatever you wished for; money, love... even the wish to become a Villain!

Eight-foot Joe

A dedicated worker for the sea-witch Ursula from the Little Mermaid is Eight-foot Joe. His introduction suggests that he is in fact hiding his extra legs which leads fans to conclude he is an actual octopus.

Joe is the tired office worker of the group, the only one that treats the program as the job that it is. Based off Ursula’s business as the sea-witch, Joe’s introduction includes him launching into what likes a rehearsed speech advertising Ursula’s services. When not at the microphone, Joe is usually hiding behind guests or sitting down somewhere away from the red carpet.

Of all the Recruiters, Joe is the most crass. He speaks rudely to guests, usually telling them off about one thing or another. He teases the other Recruiters but can rarely be caught sharing a laugh with them. Like Jack, his reactions to mentions of his Master are usually of fear, likely because he is overworked and insulting Ursula will only result in more work for himself.

In the early years he was very vocal about how tired he was and how he did not need friends, but the end of 2018’s season saw him the most emotional and commenting on how he wishes he had more time with them.

Quotes 🐙What is it that burdens you? Some human trouble? Or perhaps... a burden of love? 🐙I hope you all have an oct-ful... I mean, wonderful day.

Lady Pirate Hock

Working for the infamous Captain Hook from the world of Peter Pan is Lady Pirate Hock. She is, without a doubt, most popular amongst her fellow ladies Recruiters.

Hock is the most suave and flirtatious of the ladies Recruiters, though her wiles are only ever directed at either the ladies or female guests. Scatter, Veil, Farja and Hades can all be caught swooning over her and fighting for her attention when she offers to escort any of them after the show. Even amongst the men’s team she is known to be handsome and popular.

While her overall character is extremely charming and almost prince like, she has an endearing childish side that usually shows when she’s picking on the men’s team or running off with their props. Having said that, she is extremely protective of the ladies team, particularly Veil, when the men retaliate.

For the longest time I mistook her name for Hook, but after some fact checking, it can be confirmed that her English romanisation would be Hock.

Quotes ⚓️The sun shines brightly again today... oh sun, your light is not what I need today. What I need is the beautiful light of the moon. ⚓️The sun’s light is dazzling, but what dazzles me most right now ... are all your beautiful smiles.

Veil

The Hunchback of Notre Dame’s Villain, Frollo, has Veil has his underling. Though not specially stated, there have been instances where she alludes to the fact that she may be the bell a top the Notre Dame.

If Veil were present on any particular day, you would hear her coming long before they reach the performance area. She also carries a small hand bell with her that she rings loudly as she walks around, much to the dismay of some of her fellow cast members. Though if the men complain she tends to ring it more loudly in their ear.

She is the most refined of and of the cast, speaking formally to everyone else and walking with a grace not seen in the others. She is closest with Hock whom she appears to have a crush on, blushing whenever they hold hands. However every time Jack approaches her, she quickly and harshly brushes him off. When asked why, she claims it is because Jack makes fun of her pose.

Veil has the voice of an angel, she often breaks into the song halfway through her introduction, needing Scatter to stop her and remind her to please teach the audience her pose.

Quotes 🔔This bell that was bestowed upon me by Master Frollo will surely shake your heart 🔔God help the outcasts, children of God.

Pretty Scar

Taking on the same name as her Master is Pretty Scar, working for the Lion King’s Scar. She is what one could call the black sheep of the family because despite being a Villain, she values all things that are considered cute and pretty. She runs around pouting dramatically looking for compliments which all the other Recruiters find unfitting of a Villain.

When introduced by the hosts, it’s said Scar is disliked by all the other Recruiters and during her own speech she the others are always looking for places to hide or pushing each other closer so that they do not have to listen to her. When interacting with the others she is mostly the one pushing herself onto them, Jack being one of the few that won’t completely turn her away.

She is also madly in love Mr. Dalmetia, despite him always turning her down she does not let up. She is always chasing after him and attempting to cling to him, calling him her ‘Darling’. While the other ladies Recruiters don’t seem to pay much attention to her love for Daru, when Daru finally agrees to stay with her, Farja and Hock who were present congratulated her.

Based on the fact that Jack calls her ‘Hyena-Girl’ it can be assumed she is the personification of a hyena, similar to the group of hyenas that work for her Master.

Quotes 🐱Hmph, hmph! I’m grumpy today because no one’s called me cute! Ah! That feels good! 🐱Darling!

Farja

Flying in from Agrabah is Farja who works for Jafar from the film Aladdin. Her most prominent features are her flowing black and red hair and flowing dress that she shows off on the red carpet.

Farja is easily the most bratty of the ladies Recruiters, if the audience does not give her an impressed enough reaction to her magic tricks she will complain really loudly and gesture for more applause. When watching the others, if they mess up or do anything silly she is first to laugh really loudly. On the other hand, if something does not please her she tends to scream in a person’s face until whatever is upsetting her stops.

She gets along quite well with the other ladies Recruiters, excluding Scar, and is one of the members that swoons of Hock all the time. She often fights for Hock’s attention and laughs excitedly when Hock escorts her to and from the show.

While she screams out angrily whenever Iago is mentioned, it does seem she is based off the parrot which explains why she gets along with Malfie who is a crow.

Quotes 🌹Isn’t my magic simply amazing? In happy times and sad times, remember it and your heart will bloom too! 🌹Villains Sassoon!

Ms. Hades

Once again taking the name of her Master Hades from Hercules, is Ms Hades. Unlike her hotheaded Master, she is the most indifferent of the ladies Recruiters.

She believes in just letting people do as they please because she too wants to just let people do as they please and not carry any of the responsibility. She acts like a tired mother watching her chaotic children as the other Recruiters run around messing with each other.

While she is possibly the quietest member of the entire team and the most professional. While she may not be as vocal as the others though, she is often with them admiring each other’s props or fighting for Hock’s attention. At any mention of her Master though she becomes extremely excited and waves enthusiastically to decorations in his image.

Even though she does not seem to notice it, whenever she high fives or gets too close to the other members, they tend to back away as though they have been burned, after which she follows them curiously causing them to run away faster.

Quotes 🔥Entering this world without permission… do as you please. I turn a blind eye… as I please. 🔥In human terms you could call it liberation, call it freedom!

#disney villains recruiters #villains recruiters #手下 #tokyo disneysea #tds #villains world #halloween #disney #tdr

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cloudysonder · 5 years

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Bad Demon (Ineffable Husbands)

Summary: Crowley, in a fit of drunkenness, confesses his feelings for Aziraphale. It doesn’t go down very well. In fact, it goes about as badly as it could’ve gone, and before Aziraphale could even try to process his (already given) response, Crowley is gone; vanished into thin air. So, in a very Aziraphale-like manner, Aziraphale does nothing for a while. And then he panics.

Crowley, purely by definition, was a very bad demon.

Despite how he acted, it was what he truly believed. (As he should, for it was a fact.)

He didn’t ooze the seven deadly sins as he was supposed to, at all times. He wasn’t very comfortable with the idea of death, nor the concept of unjustified violence or horrible misfortune. In fact, he thought these were very stupid concepts; people should get what they bring upon themselves, he thought. There was no need for something to happen to them for no apparent reason.

Well, at least his “evil” habit of questioning authority never changed. (Which made sense, he supposed, to this fucked-up system, which was only Almighty in the way that it was almightily confusing, as the same system threw him down into a vat of sulfur for said habit.)

He spent his angel days making the stars and the sky, falling in love with every one of his creations. He believed in Her with all of his heart, yes, but he asked questions, thinking he also wanted to understand Her with all of his mind.

But that was bad, he was told, and off he went, spiraling into a vat of sulfur, white wings burning until they were black.

He was a bad angel; years and years of not being one had taught him to accept that. Being a bad angel should’ve meant that he would be a good demon.

They were two sides of one coin, and somehow, Crowley had managed to land on the edge.

Crowley, purely by definition, was a very bad demon.

Except around Aziraphale.

Dishonesty was one of the most sought-after traits in a demon. Lying was fun for Crowley, a good 87.83% of the time, but it was mostly for temptations and “curses” that could usually be considered mild inconveniences at best. Lies that truly hurt somebody, now those were things he didn’t like messing with.

Words were the sharpest sword sometimes, and again, he wasn’t really a fan of stabbing, or slicing, or even just very politely and gently mauling. In front of Aziraphale however, he told lies that slashed like a jagged rusty knife into dry skin and stung like salt and cayenne rubbed into wounds.

“I’m an angel, and you’re a demon, Crawl-- Crowley. We’re not even supposed to be seeing each other, much less, you know, fraternizing.” Aziraphale had whispered the last word, as if genuinely ashamed. “The Arrangement. That’s it, alright? I can’t do anything more.”

“I’m fine with that,” Crowley replied, and the lie dug itself deep into his heart. “Like I’d want to spend time around a holy angel, anyway.”

Around Aziraphale, Crowley also tended to indulge in a trick he had learned from the humans: lying to himself.

Or, more accurately, pretending.

Sometimes, when Aziraphale called him “dear” or “my dear”, he liked to imagine a world where he actually meant it. He liked seeing the people who worked at the Ritz look at them with fondness, liked hearing them whisper about how they were such a good couple, and for a few beautiful moments, he would live in a world where it was true. For a few moments, he pretended that they lived in a simple world, where Zira wasn’t an angel and he wasn’t a demon, and they were a couple.

(It most certainly wasn’t hard, since, by most Earthly standards, they already acted like a married couple.)

He had once told the angel that the two of them weren’t on Heaven’s side or Hell’s side, but their side.

Zira responded that there was no their side and tacked on an “I don’t even like you!” for good measure. Unbeknownst to Aziraphale, this small exchange of words had completely decimated Crowley’s sleeping habits (from once a day to a few times a year), as Crowley would often nightmare, and even when he dreamed, again, of a hypothetical world where they were together, the words would echo through his head.

It wasn’t very pleasant.

But sitting with his angel at the Ritz, lying to himself (even for a few glorious minutes) was very pleasant. Probably the most angelic a demon could feel.

Well, that is, before the server brought a small pride flag with their wine, offering them a meek smile and a gentle compliment.

“Hello, sirs.” They placed the wine and wine glasses on the table. “Thank you for being such loyal regulars. I think it’s adorable how you two come for a date here every week. Happy pride month!”

The server stuck the flag in the vase of flowers that stood between the two.

Crowley reveled in the moment (no, his cheeks were not red, and no, he was not avoiding eye contact with Aziraphale; he was just really interested in the label on the wine bottle is all).

“Oh.” Crowley heard a small sound from the angel across from him. “Oh. Oh, no, no, no, we’re not, uh we’re not together--”

Crowley froze, rudely being pulled out of his “lying to himself” act, and immediately poured himself a full glass of wine.

“Oh?” The server had a poorly hidden look of “no way” on their face but politely smiled anyway.

Crowley downed the wine like a shot, his eyes focused on both nothing and everything except Aziraphale.

“We’ll keep the flag, though. It’s very nice.” Aziraphale added, and if Crowley were paying even the slightest bit of attention to the angel, he would’ve noticed that Aziraphale’s face was flushed and his lips were stiff, as he was trying to stop himself from rambling (as he often did when nervous).

Crowley, however, was instead busy doing something very unmistakably human:

Drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

The demon was done with about 3/4 of the wine bottle before the server even left their field of vision.

“You. Yeah, you. Get me another one of these-- yeah, a white’s good. Have any bigger wine glasses?”

The server glanced at the angel and then him, and nodded sympathetically.

“Right away, sir.”

“What is wrong with you today, dear?” Aziraphale’s eyes crumpled at the edges in genuine worry. It made Crowley taste a cocktail of guilt and bitterness, knowing that Aziraphale truly did care for him, but not nearly the way Crowley cared for him. “You’re just... breathing in this alcohol, like a, like a... what were they called? You know, those lovely clean sucking things that they made last century...”

Crowley flushed. Just Aziraphale saying the word “sucking” was too much for him. Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

Crowley soon decided that if he was able to think coherently, then he hadn’t drunk enough alcohol. He filled another glass just as Aziraphale gasped and exclaimed,

“Vacuums!” Zira took a moment to appreciate his own genius, involuntarily puffing out his chest. “A vacuum! That’s what it is! You’re acting an awful lot like a vacuum, dear. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Crowley replied, more out of habit than actual thought. Hm. His vision was fine, and his words weren’t slurred yet, and more importantly, he could still think. Crowley didn’t appreciate that one bit.

He snapped his fingers, and a small demonic miracle danced around his wine, turning it to something considerably less wine-like, but almost infinitely more likely to turn Crowley into a happier, drunker demon.

In other words, vodka. (Particularly a more demonic sort, with 730.67% alcohol.)

He downed the glass, and promptly fell over, knocked out.

“Crowley?”

He barely registered his angel calling him, voice brimming with concern.

Crowley came to after being hit with the familiar scent of old books and cocoa, and, upon further investigation, realized it was because he was draped over Aziraphale’s shoulder as the angel struggled to drag him home.

Crowley breathed in Aziraphale’s scent before (slightly) uprighting himself. His arm was still wrapped around Aziraphale’s shoulders, but he was partially walking on his own now.

He heard Zira sigh in relief next to him.

“What happened, my dear?”

God, his eyes were so blue.

“You don’t normally... drink like this.”

Sober Crowley would’ve made an excuse well-suited to his personality; something along the lines of “I felt like it” or “it’s national ‘Get Shit-Faced’ day, angel”.

Drunk Crowley, however, couldn’t even process the question.

“Sssssatan, your eyesss are sso blue.” Crowley flicked his tongue out (it had miraculously shifted back to its natural serpentine form sometime between when he drank his not-wine to when he was draped on his angel’s back) to take in more of Aziraphale’s scent. “....’eally niccce.”

Aziraphale chuckled (adorably).

“What was that, Crowley?”

“Really niccce.”

“What is?”

Crowley made eye contact with Aziraphale, and the demon’s yellow snake-slit eyes crinkled at the edges in fondness.

“...Ineffable.” Crowley hiccupped out, tapping on his chest. “Can’t... understand... why.”

“Huh.” Aziraphale didn’t understand at all what Crowley had said, but felt that it was important for whatever reason, shelving it with his old books in his memory library.

“Sssshakessspeare wasss a dick,” Crowley eloquently added, and the conversation moved on, not giving the angel a single second to process whatever Crowley had just said.

It was when they stepped into the bookshop that Crowley’s despair over the 14th century had miraculously lifted, and the demon’s demeanor shifted to one of relief.

“I’m home!” Crowley laughed between hiccups. He had always imagined saying that when he walked into Zira’s bookshop, and the lack of filter between his mouth and head had long since been removed by alcohol.

“Home? We’re at the bookshop, dear.” Aziraphale absentmindedly replied. Crowley had left his side and was beelining towards his usual spot on the sofa: the whole sofa.

“Yeah.” Crowley was sprawled across the couch, tongue flicking out occasionally to gather as much of the bookshop’s smell as he could. “Home issss where you are, angel.”

Crowley stared at Aziraphale, his head slightly tilted as his serpentine pupils dilated on a yellow background; a tick he had picked up from the humans. His eyes were half-lidded, decidedly not from the drunkenness that resulted from alcohol but the often even stupider drunkenness that resulted from being smitten.

Crowley had looked at Aziraphale many times this way. Just, never when Aziraphale looked back. Drunk Crowley didn’t seem to give very much of a shit for Sober Crowley’s embarrassment.

“I love you.”

Crowley stared straight into Aziraphale’s too-blue eyes.

“So much, angel.” Crowley tacked on. “Since the Beginning. So, ssso much, Aziraphale.”

He watched as a series of emotions flew across Zira’s face. (If it was to be said, it might’ve been that trait of Aziraphale’s that caused Crowley to trust him so easily in the first place. After all, how could an angel who let everything show on his face betray him?)

First, Aziraphale looked touched. Then, embarrassed. Embarrassment morphed to shame as if he had realized something very important.

“No.”

Aziraphale refused to meet the demon’s eyes. Crowley started to sober almost immediately, albeit unconsciously. It was as if someone had poked a small hole in a water balloon and now the alcohol was draining out of him, like water from a leaky faucet.

Drip.

“What?” A million shades of hurt flashed through Crowley.

“It’s wrong, dea-- Crowley! You’re a demon, you know, a creature from Hell that’s supposed to be terrorizing all of humanity, and I’m an angel, the exact opposite.”

I was once too, Crowley wanted to say.

“I’m meant to love everything equally, and you’re not meant to love at all; there’s no possible way whatever this is could, could, could be.”

Aziraphale was rambling. Everything out of his mouth meant little to nothing to him, but every word stabbed Crowley in a different weak point he didn’t know he had.

“Romance is, it isn’t, it’s not--” He was stuttering now. “It’s not us.”

Crowley somehow got his mouth to work again, but all he could manage was a broken,

“What are we, then?”

I don’t know.

“Nothing.”

Crowley shattered.

The room had gone silent.

Where is my home, then?

Nowhere.

Nothing, nowhere, nobody.

That’s what Crowley had always been. Not an angel. Not a demon. Belonging nowhere. He had thought and dreamed and hoped of a love that would make him something, but in the end, he stayed the same.

“You go too fast for me, Crowley.”

If only he could stop. He wished he could, he really did, wished he could slow down, wished he could relax enough to find something.

If only he could just disappear.

When Aziraphale blinked, Crowley had vanished, leaving behind nothing.

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

Crowley was currently in a Place.

A Place, because he had no idea where he was.

Not on Earth, because Earth was a place he could get drunk and forget. Now, every drop of alcohol that entered his bloodstream exited twice as quickly, after any, any thought involving Aziraphale passed through. Which was always, since he was the reason Crowley was drinking in the first place. He couldn’t be on Earth, because Aziraphale would always be with him on Earth.

A Place.

Not on Hell, because he had been to Hell, many, many times, and this was so much worse.

A Place.

Heaven?

Well, if he could go to heaven, this whole blessed thing wouldn’t have happened in the first place.

It was because he was a demon, wasn’t it?

It was, Crowley told himself. But he could have been better.

He buried his face in his arms, folded on top of himself in the couch he never sat on in his apartment.

If Crowley was better, maybe he could’ve convinced Aziraphale to stay. Maybe Aziraphale could’ve chosen him over the world, chosen their side.

Crowley did ask. Once.

The world or him and Alpha Centauri, and Aziraphale, his lovely selfless good angel, had chosen the world without even blinking.

Even if it meant throwing him away.

“I really should’ve seen this coming.” Crowley chuckled, miserable, and the sound bounced off the walls. “What was I expecting?”

In front of him, a few of his plants had the nerve to droop, and Crowley couldn’t muster anything in him to threaten them. He felt very much like drooping himself. Crowley gently held the leaf of the houseplant that drooped, feeling it tremble for a second under his touch.

He knew it was a coping mechanism. But it helped. It helped him deal with things, accept things enough to...

To do what?

Heeding orders was never a desire of his.

Everything he did was for Aziraphale. To see his face, to smell his coat, to tease him, to love him, Crowley lived.

He breathed into the terrified leaf of the dracaena.

He was to the plant as Hell was to him.

Hell had power over him, was what he had thought. He feared Hell for what they could do to him.

But now?

The fear had vanished.

The worst had happened. He lived for Aziraphale, not Hell, he realized, and fear of the past only existed in the minds of fools.

He mumbled a quiet “’m sorry” into the leaf of his dracaena, and it stopped trembling in his hands. Crowley had only ever cried once before, unsurprisingly over the same angel, over the same problem: leaving him.

He was sobbing now; he clenched the leaf of his houseplant in his hands and cried, knowing that Aziraphale would never mourn like this over him.

Crowley might’ve imagined it, but he swore that he felt another leaf of the dracaena patting his back, comforting him.

****Something that passed through the mind of Crowley around his 30th attempt to drink****

Aziraphale had once told him something along the lines of “one could only be truly good if one had the capacity to be truly evil”, and Crowley could do neither.

When he felt shitty, Crowley would’ve normally crashed Aziraphale’s bookshop, lounging on the angel’s couch in the backroom while listening to him rambling about Dante or Dickens, but that wasn’t very much an option now.

Crowley was nothing to the angel, after all, even though friends still wouldn’t have been enough for Crowley.

Aziraphale had screwed up. Badly.

He sat where Crowley had been just a few minutes ago, looking at Aziraphale as if the stars were in his eyes.

Crowley, a demon: Snake eyes unhidden, snake tongue flicking out once in a while, languishing on his couch.

He had felt so much pride in having Crowley be comfortable around him. Felt fondness for the demon that would barge in and collapse on his couch without warning, who listened to his rambles about books and music for hours without complaint.

He kept seeing Crowley’s hurt expression when he had said that he was just a demon.

That much was true, yes. But not just a demon. Crowley was anything but just. He was beyond that, and Aziraphale had always known that.

He was sure that when Crowley was an angel that hadn’t changed. It was for being more than just an angel that he probably got thrown off the side.

This was Crowley: a demon that had drove him more places than he could count, the demon that told him that “Another One Bites The Dust” was by Tchaikovsky, the demon that had walked into a church for him, the demon that had saved books from a burning church for him, the demon that loved him.

“What are we, then?”

His voice was shaking, broken.

“Nothing.”

Aziraphale saw Crowley’s heart drop.

Crowley was gone now; probably never coming back. His only ally in the world, the only constant that had stayed, and protected him, and cared.

“Funny if we both got it wrong, eh? Funny if I did the good thing and you did the bad one, eh?”

He had nudged Aziraphale goodnaturedly and smiled.

Aziraphale put his head in his hands.

Softly, silently, he cursed.

Meanwhile, Heaven and Hell, as both of which had learned their lesson from the last time they left Aziraphale and Crowley completely unmonitored, watched them for about three weeks.

Well, “watched” wasn’t quite the right word. They didn’t “see” very much of anything. Or hear, for that matter.

(Which was a relief, as Crowley very well would’ve rather stepped into a vat of holy water than have Hastur know that he’d confessed his love for an angel while drunk.)

Hell felt a small bit of Aziraphale’s grace lift up from Crowley’s clothes and furniture.

Heaven felt a tad of Crowley’s demonic presence lift up from Aziraphale’s bookshop (Crowley had intentionally left a bit so no one would walk into the bookshop to buy books for a very long time) and coat(s).

As such, Heaven and Hell were optimistic that both had returned to their proper roles as a demon, terrorizer of humanity, and an angel, bringer of miracles. Thus, they sent representatives to congratulate them. Not because they were truly proud of them, of course, but rather because of a mix of emotions, most of which were elements of fear and hatred of the other side.

For Crowley, Hastur.

For Aziraphale, Gabriel.

Gabriel walked into Aziraphale’s bookshop in an extremely Gabriel-like way, that is to say, with perfect posture, hands folded in front of him, a bright smile painted on his face.

“Aziraphale!” He called.

“Gabriel.” Aziraphale looked up from the book he was trying, but failing to read, for his mind had been a bit preoccupied with a certain demon’s absence.

“I just wanted to say congratulations!” He slapped Aziraphale on the back.

“For...?”

“For dissociating yourself from that demon, of course! What was his name... Crawly?”

“Crowley.” Aziraphale corrected, stern.

“Right! Up There is very happy with you, you know.” Gabriel leaned forward to say the last sentence, as if it was a well-kept secret.

A small part of Aziraphale, one that he now hated, felt a glimmer of pride.

Said glimmer of pride was stamped out when Gabriel ruffled Zira’s hair and gave him another slap on the back.

The angel felt nauseous. Gabriel’s smile, his mannerisms, the way he looked like he was proud of him... it all felt so fake.

Gabriel bounced on his feet, refusing to sit down, as if he was ready to leave any second.

Aziraphale thought of a certain demon, who would drape himself over his couch immediately, settling in as if it were his second home.

Gabriel called him terrific, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but think that he would much rather be told “not bad, angel” with a poorly concealed smile.

The glimmer of pride, if it had ever been there at all, quickly turned into guilt.

He had traded Crowley for this?

Hastur sauntered into the bar with a slight limp.

Surprisingly, the bar wasn’t crowded at all, almost as if someone had put a sort of demonic miracle on it. Hastur grumbled approvingly, spotting Crowley as the lone figure at the counter, sipping whiskey directly from the bottle.

(He still couldn’t actually get drunk, of course, but drinking felt better than lying on his bed doing nothing.)

Hastur grabbed his shoulder.

“Crowley.”

Crowley looked at him.

“Hastur.” Crowley sighed. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

“Finally gotten free of your angel, eh?” Hastur did something that wasn’t smiling nor smirking, but communicated approval anyhow.

“Not mine,” Crowley mumbled into the bottle.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Crowley took a swig of whiskey. “You could put it that way. And?”

“Hell approves.” Hastur shrugged. “Everyone does. Angels are stupid asses. Hypocrites, the lot of them.”

“Sure,” Crowley replied.

“Yours in particular though,” Hastur added. “Satan, he was idiotic. Bookshop full of books that he doesn’t want to sell. He might as well be one of ours. Stupid name too, something long, Ezra something--”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley grit out.

“Yeah, him. What a preach. Lecturing about evil and good, as if he knows everything. What does he know? He just stuffs his face all day long like a human. No wonder he’s such a lard-ass--”

Crowley decked him, and Hastur flew across the room.

...

Hastur’s back slammed against a brick wall with a dull satisfying thud, and Crowley’s hands hung at his sides, as if they were sagging with the weight of what he had just done.

To put it simply, Crowley had two things on earth: Aziraphale and Hell, which had already put him into a number of quite strange situations, given that they were almost polar opposites of each other.

After Aziraphale rejected him, Crowley only had Hell, and logically, should’ve been demon-ing with all his might: knocking over kid’s ice cream cones, slightly nudging the letters on someone’s birthday cake so that they would be just asymmetrical, you know, evil stuff. He should’ve been training a band of mariachi maggots to sing for Hastur, Duke of WhateverTheFuckCrowleyDidn’tReallyCare, not striking him in the face.

But Satan was it satisfying.

The pompous Duke of Hell who had the nerve to insult his angel was lying on the ground before him, a large bruise blooming on his cheek. Anger still pumped through Crowley’s veins as he leered down at Hastur, feeling very much like he’d like to punch him again.

Gripping him by his collar, Crowley lifted Hastur in the air and threw him into the wall again. Just for good measure. He took a deep breath.

After being near Aziraphale for so long, he had forgotten just how woefully inadequate other demons’ company was in comparison.

On the bright side, Crowley thought to himself as he walked towards the exit. After what happened today, he wouldn’t very much have to worry about “other demons’ company” anymore.

A demonic miracle later, Hastur appeared in front of Crowley again, smug smirk on his face and amusement flickering in and out of his eyes.

To fully understand Hastur’s reaction, one had to understand two very important points.

1: When it was implied before that Hell left Crowley for the most part alone because of a mix of fear and respect from his holy water spectacle, it would be more accurate to say that it was because of a begrudging respect from fear. Hell respected the art of fear very much, and Crowley had instilled it into every demon who watched him bathe in holy water.

Fear, however, only worked when the one who fears thinks the one who is feared has no weaknesses.

2: Hastur wasn’t stupid.

“This is hilarious.” A maggot crawled out of Hastur’s smile.

“What is?”

“You fell in love.” Hastur leaned forward to Crowley’s ear. “With an angel.”

If it must be reiterated, Hastur was not quite the idiot Crowley had always played him to be. He may have seemed so, but that was simply because Crowley was a bit more clever than he played himself to be.

More importantly, Hastur had been demon-ing for far longer than Crowley had.

**A Common Misconception (known by Hastur but unknown to Crowley)**

Demons did not indulge in the seven sins; they simply convinced humans to do so. In fact, it was (or should’ve been) impossible for them to do so in the first place, as each sin was rooted in love, and demons could not love.

(Demons could sense the sins just as angels could sense love, and it was Crowley’s bit of wrath that gave him away.)

Crowley stiffened. He fought the (unnecessary) urge to breathe, as panic rose up his throat. Fear was about three hells of a poison, and Crowley was deeply cursing the fact that he didn’t have it in his serpentine fangs.

“You know Picasso?” Hastur looked directly at Crowley.

Crowley didn’t reply.

“One of ours, of course. I got to torture him for a few Hell millennia, and he told me something.” Hastur continued. “He said, ‘Every time I change wives I should burn the last one. That way I'd be rid of them. They wouldn't be around to complicate my existence. You kill the woman and you wipe out the past she represents.’”

“Wait,” Crowley interjected, sounding desperate.

“Now, Aziraphale, was it? Not a woman, but it’s the same either way, really.” Hastur shrugged.

“Look, aren’t you being a tad overdramatic? Aziraphale-- he’s, it’s not anything, really, you know. In fact, he told me that myself-- look, I’m sorry for striking you, but we’re mates, aren’t we? Demons of Hell, the lot of us, there’s no need to--”

“Ciao.” Hastur dipped his head a bit, and he was gone.

Shit.

....

Aziraphale got rid of Gabriel by sheer willpower, fake smiles, and a gentle bit of steadily nudging his “brother” to the exit.

Upon closing the door behind him, the angel savored the sense of relief and tried to ignore the loneliness that swelled beside it.

The empty couch, the crushing silence.

Overwhelming.

However, the small, but already far too long, interaction with Gabriel had led him to a decision. A decision, he realized, in which he had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Aziraphale was, generally, a very reckless person. Sometimes, it could be called bravery. Other times, it could be called stupidity.

He was aware of this, and this awareness led him to ultimately decide that this was too important of an action to rush in with.

He had waited six thousand years. What was a few hours more?

Armed with a pen and a couple hundred flashcards, Aziraphale dived into work.

*A List of Things Aziraphale Realized While Writing Out a Series of Memories and Thoughts*

1.) He was an idiot.

2.) Crowley had confessed to him in his own way many times before (burning church, French Revolution, dinner at the Ritz for no reason), and Aziraphale had never noticed (refer to #1).

3.) He loved Crowley. (Well, he actually came up with that one sometime over the three weeks they’d been apart.)

4.) He really didn’t give a flying fuck (Yes, he had wrote that. Yes, he thought that Crowley would be very proud of him.) about Heaven or Hell, so long as he had the Earth and Crowley.

The moment he had firmly decided on the final point, Aziraphale heard the door slam open.

It was followed by a desperate-sounding, “Angel!”, and Aziraphale immediately turned around, making eye contact with a terrified looking Crowley.

He didn’t even have time to take in the demon’s eye bags and sunken face before Crowley beelined towards him.

Cupping Aziraphale’s face in his hands, Crowley rubbed his thumbs over the angel’s cheekbones, as if trying to convince himself that he was there.

“Alright?” Crowley asked softly.

“What?” Aziraphale blinked, bewildered.

“Are you alright?” Crowley asked again, firmer.

“Yes, of course, what are you talking about--”

Crowley hugged Aziraphale, crushing the angel’s body against his own (not unlike a snake, in fact). Confused, Aziraphale managed a small,

“Crowley...?”

The demon in question stiffened as if remembering something important. He immediately pulled away, shoving his hands in his pockets, and looking very much like he wanted to jump into a lake of holy water.

“Right. Sorry. Um.” He coughed into his sleeve. “Panicked, a bit. Couldn’t do any demonic miracles. Just a prank, probably, then. Just thought about... some stupid... thing--”

Said “stupid thing” may or may not have been the burning of the bookshop followed by the worst hours of his life.

“--so I just came over without thinking. Sorry. I’ll just-- I’ll just go.” He turned to face the door.

“No!” Aziraphale latched onto his hand. “Wait, just wait right there. I’ll be right back.”

Aziraphale hurried to his desk, gathering his index cards, notes, and sticky notes, among all of the other 5,724 things on there.

It was the warmest he’d felt in a while. He’d missed the demon, so much more desperately than he thought he would have, and a single word, a single action from him was all it took to make the world feel alright again.

He’d missed being called “angel”.

Aziraphale flustered at the realization and stumbled, index cards managing to spread across the floor in a matter of seconds.

“What’s all this?” Crowley gestured to Aziraphale’s paper model of the Pacific Ocean on the ground.

“Oh, just give me a second, I’ll have it all sorted out in a minute.” Aziraphale was bent down on the ground, gathering all the cards into a small horde. “Gosh, where’s the last one?”

“Just use a miracle, angel,” Crowley said, exasperated.

For a second, things were normal again.

Crowley bent down to pick an index card up.

He glanced at it and flushed an alarming shade of red. Pushing his sunglasses up, Crowley covered his face with his right hand, the other holding the index card between his middle and pointer finger.

“Ah,” Crowley heard Aziraphale from the ground. “You, you picked up the last one.”

“...is it true?” Crowley murmured quietly, as if he was scared of the answer.

Aziraphale stood up, dragged Crowley up by the arm, and removed his hand from his face.

He stared directly into Crowley’s eyes and smiled for what felt like the first time in weeks.

“I reckon it’s the truest thing I’ve ever written.”

Crowley smiled back.

“Lunch at the Ritz?”

“I thought you’d never ask, dear.”

And he meant the “dear” this time, Crowley thought blissfully.

“A reservation for two, under Anthony J. Crowley.”

The server beamed at them.

“Flowers?” The server offered.

“As many as possible, please.” Aziraphale replied.

“Sure, angel.” Crowley sighed.

“About goddamn time,” Hastur muttered from a table behind them.

“Were you the one who got them together?” A server asked from beside him. He startled, before relaxing.

“Drastic times called for drastic measures.” Hastur shrugged.

“Please let me give you some wine on the house.”

“Could you say I stole it? For my reputation.”

The server paused.

“Sure, sire.”

AN:

Thanks for reading! For earlier updates and other such things, my stories are on AO3 under the name CloudySonder!

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leahquark · 4 years

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Zoe and Kra ‘O: Different

“Ugh! No!” I shrieked at once. The blank void of paper beneath me became flush with darkened lines, streams strokes and words pulled directly from my mind. I wrote, as I always write, the feelings conveyed to page before they’d ever met with consideration. The swirls of my uncertainty bubbling and boiling, festering and flowing as they collided in tension about the sole point of reprieve at my fingertips. Words tumbled like a stream, yet always too much water, or never enough, as…

“Kra ‘O!” I shouted. “Kra ‘O give me back the paper!”

“Whatcha writing about?” Kra ‘O questioned, hopping away as the cardstock dangled from her maw.

“Some things, now give it back!” I retorted, rising up to give chase.

“It must be really important. You didn’t even change into your vampire outfit.” the bird pointed out accurately, as I stood by the light streaming window.

“I… I...” I trailed off, unable to meet the bird's eyes. “I didn’t feel like it today.” I responded.

“Did something happen?” Kra ‘O questioned at once, dropping the paper from her beak and hopping her way back over.

“I was just thinking about what I’m doing is all.” I answered, still looking away, even as the black mass moved over and nuzzled her beak into my shoulder. “I didn’t really feel in the mood today. And I was happy. I wore my regular outfit and I was happier than if I’d worn the vampire dress. Normally, even when It’s not October, I’m happier with the dress on, but today I wasn’t feeling it. And like, that’s fine, but I just started feeling bad. I promised everyone on my social media I’d be wearing it all October. But like, the thing is, no one even follows me on my social media anyway. I don’t know, one thing lead to another, and look!”

The bird examined my phone screen, the light which was far brighter than I’d imagined washed over her face.

“I don’t understand?” she questioned.

“These people are using the same hashtags as me. And look at how different their content is!” I exclaimed. Kra ‘O continued only to stare, blinking her beady eyes, each time her pupils dilating again to adjust to the light.

“I don’t see what the problem is.” the bird answered. And at once, from Kra ‘O’s maw came a hurricane of truth. “From the day you began you strived to be different! From the moment you stepped forth you aspired to be something more! No mediocrity was your end goal, only the rawest and purest of unique creations was what you desired. You did no research, held no conference, and for what? Not because of the willful arrogance I know you possess! Not because of the abhor of inefficiency and meaningless labor which compels you to produce end results with minimal effort! But instead, because in the very words of Zoe, last descendant of the original timeline, and sole human care guarded by the Arters, ‘to be successful where all others have failed, one must be different where all others have samed.’ That is the reason why you have done no research, and hold no reference to base yourself off of.”

“Okay.” I began, taking on Kra ‘O’s words with a shudder in my own chest at the impact of the sounds. “There’s a lot wrong with that statement, especially since I don’t think I ever said that quote, and I don’t know what an Arter is.”

“Arters is the word quarters but with a quarter of the word missing.” Kra ‘O explained at once, as though holding her information as crucial.

“But that doesn’t change the fact I have no followers, and I can’t find the time to work on my novel cause I’m posting every week.” I responded. “Plus,” I added with a quick retort. “If I did have a quote about being different it would be something along the lines of: all successes are different from all failures, but many failures are unique in the manner in which they fail. My work is different, but not in a good way. It’s objectively worse for the medium I’m working in, I mean just compare my stuff to this!” The bird looked to me, my dearest friend and trusted confidant, and spoke words which shattered mountains and toppled empires.

“Recognition of one's own failings is the key to success. In light of failure, doubling down will only lead to destruction. To succeed, one must change. Change is essential. The medium of your world itself must alter under your will. If failure finds itself scheduled for today, then that is an appointment you can not afford to attend. Repeating methods that are proven failures is nothing more than a waste of the most precious resource you have, time. Do what you feel passionate about. Do it well. Not for gain. Not for need. Not for any reward save the action itself. Let the chips fall where they may. And should you find yourself losing every hand, play a different game, or go all in and save yourself some time. Failures scatter and run through dense woods, dying without energy or reward. Commoners walk the path before them, paved by greats moving far faster and further than they will ever achieve. Successes plow ahead, atop vessels of unmatched speed and destruction, leveling the very terrain beneath them. Learn from roads paved past when to bend and when to turn. But never walk a step, not on the road nor on earth. You do not walk the road less traveled, you drive a road which has never existed before!”

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mynameisdreartblog · 4 years

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Structural Isomers 3

Libra: 2,2,4-Trimethylhexane. <The familiar bell to mark someone’s entrance into the library chimes again. Yellen, after rubbing her magnifier for a comically lung time, peers up to greet whoever’s there. However, a striking intuition splashes her mind, which results in an aftershock of total disgust that needs to be disguised for the sake of etiquette> Oh, hello… you. «Good morning, granny. So, what’s new here?» <Yellen thinks to herself:> Goddamn Inez again. And here I was thinking he’d never come back! «Still holding onto all these worthless texts? You of all people should know by now that there’s nothing valuable here… Actually, I don’t want to be that harsh, but still: Necessity calls!» These works still hold considerable weight to our modern world, young man. «Keep up with the times; we’re on the edge of it being ‘postmodern’ now, which means everything here will become even more antiquated.» <Yellen thinks to herself again> Ugh, he’s put on this completely fabricated hatred of literature to justify his intentions of buying up the property here. So shallow, but at least I’m getting closer to knowing who’s paying him. The transition into a new world makes preserving older knowledge all the more worth it in my eyes <Yellen grips her wrinkly flesh around her pens.> «Heh, you seem aggravated by my progressivism.» Yes, because you’re violating one of the rules <Yellen pulls out a pristine paper, in which the second rule states “no political discussion”> I’d hate to be rude, but I think you’re overthinking and making up a ‘political issue’ again, and that leads you to discussing it loudly on the premises. That isn’t tolerated, as the politics (like everything else contentious) remains in the books here. «Oh, but the politics are happening right outside as we speak!» <Arduous and nonsensical conversation can be heard mumbling through the front door. Promptly, Yellen claps her hands once and the door becomes reinforced with sound-proofing, intimidating Inez> But this space is a different world with different rules, dear Inez.

Cancer: 3,3,4-Trimethylhexane. Time for a flashback way back in medical school. You know what you remember the most fondly? <Springe takes a puff from his cigarette: An almost disparate drag. He holds on this moment for dramatic effect and resumes speaking> Learning how to treat patients. <The lounge around him stares silently, thinking how out of character this was for him, and they were waiting for the inevitable fake-out> I’m serious, guys. Normally, I’m not an empathetic person, which makes you wonder why I got into this, but those instructors really beat those flaws out of you. They take the flaw you had before and make it into an entirely different character flaw, actually. «You went from not caring to caring too much?» Precisely, Luna! Passion took its cold, meaty hands and frightened the criminal in me. «How do you know my-» In anatomical dissection, the words of “you’re special because you’re human” kept banging in my head. It made me realize the place I was in while slicing through the fetus’s flesh. [,] Oh, it’s in my head with a permanent residence. <Luna mumbles to herself> «He’s way too cheery today; he must be manic again.» “You have quite a lot of sympathy for that pig you just dissected, Springe. We have all of those bones to protect that which is most vulnerable inside of us: The gross and mushy stuff.” To which I responded with “shouldn’t you be describing this in a more professional manner?” But I was the fool there, <Springe takes another puff from his cigarette> and the teacher said “toss it in with the rest.” That’s when they threw everything into a biowaste basket and I automatically passed that assignment. Thank God it’s that wonderful education that stopped me from becoming a shrink! <A nurse interrupts Springe, stating he has a patient to see> …What’s their history of cleft palate surgery again? Let me see here… Oh poor thing, it’s her first time.

Virgo: Nonane. It's blah, like my personality. «What about this one?» No, you don't understand; I want something deliberately tacky that we can all wear through the parking garage. «Bluma, there’s nobody here to see us; why do you care how we look?» It’s about how we look to ourselves! «So, you want to wear something you dislike? …I don’t get you.» I’m an expression you can never solve, Jouka. «Ah… Science has enabled man to split the atom and explore the cosmos, so one day, we’ll be able to solve the mystery of you.» Maybe you can solve this mystery! <Bluma playfully lifts the ephemeral capes from her studded leather boots, stomping them to the ground in a way to assert spatial dominance and showcase their fragrance> «H-holy shit! Where have you been keeping these, girl?» They’re imports. <Jouka ogles her boots while thoughts of how their previous goth fits were never truly complete because they didn’t feature boots like these. A mix of envy and pride fills their heart.> «Imports: How much did you pay?» Well- <skateboards can be heard echoing from the top of the parking garage: They indicate sharp and swift movement alongside a disregard for the physics of the structure> We’ve got company. «Ah yes, those skateboarders must be a threat.» No time for sarcasm, Jouka. «…I’m in agreement with you.» <Crumpled cans fall from the top floor, landing with a light grace and a hollow pang> They’re already attacking <Bluma quickly pulls out a retractable baton hidden in the new boots, making an intimidating clang.> Oh shit, I didn’t think you took that as that big a threat. «You agreed, didn’t you?» To a degree, hon. <Brandishing her boots once more, Bluma readies her legs to begin rushing into the building> «What’s the holdup: Are you not confident enough?» You let your worldview get shaken by what the books say: How are you more confident than me? <The cans from before explode violently, leaving a hazy smoke cloud in their wake. What happened to the two?>

Sagittarius: 2,2,5-Trimethylhexane. <Rossouw wipes the sweat off her brow and tries to avoid the pain she’s receiving from both the sunlight-induced headache and the memories plaguing her thoughts> Two parallel assholes in my life: Unbelievable! After everything I’ve been through, I’m at the end of the road again. I keep going at it, thinking things will change this time in an epic twist of fate, but fate always wins! The songs I sing, the art I make: All things I do to spiritually reinforce a positive ending get flipped on me. The mystics tell me it’s to learn a lesson, but I think that’s what they say to soothe the suffering. <Rossouw keeps monologuing to herself in a self-repeating way, constantly wondering what went wrong. This continues until she’s at the brink of realizing something life-changing, only for it to be interrupted by someone asking for directions> «Hey, do you know where these roads diverge?» <Rossouw communicates almost automatically> Yeah, they diverge about four miles down from this station. <Afterwards, she is utterly dazed at the fact that talking with this white man in a jeep completely erased her newfound knowledge. A great insecurity overtakes her, feeling like the opportunity has already left her, she tries to compensate immediately for the otherwise profound grief this would bring her> Hey, do you want to hear a story? «I got five more days here, so go ahead.» During my time where I was stationed in Uganda, I met a petite woman: She looked like someone suffering immense grief, like a massive opportunity was taken from her. I approached her and asked what was wrong, and she replied “my daughter’s gone: They took my daughter away from me!” I was immediately worried and replied “was it the terrorists?” And she replied “no, it was the American couple who came and took my baby!” Turns out, their child was stolen from them because of international adoption policies. That's fucked up, huh? «Uh, yeah. You know, I was expecting a more… wholesome story?» Right, right. I’m so sorry, holy shit. «Thanks, goodbye.»

#Zodipunc #Zodiaccupuncture #Libra #Cancer #Virgo #Sagittarius

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woeismyhoe · 6 years

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Banishments and Azula

Rewatching Zuko Alone made me think about some things about Azula’s childhood and how she grew up without a mother, and soon after without a brother. We know how Zuko’s life was like when Ursa was still there and after she left and during his banishment, and I’ve written a post about what Azula’s life was like when Ursa was still there, but how did her life change when both her mother AND brother were banished? It wasn’t just life changing for the ones affected directly, but to the one who was the closest to them as well which was Azula.

From Zuko’s flashbacks we saw how their childhood was for a brief moment. Zuko was obviously deeply loved by Ursa and almost all of his childhood scenes involved their mother being affectionate towards him. Azula on the other hand was never alone with either parent. Despite being the favored child of Ozai like Zuko was to Ursa, we never saw a single moment where Azula was alone with Ozai and having those parent -child bonding which Zuko always had with Ursa. It was deliberately written this way because Zuko never really did see Azula spending quality time with their father. He never saw him being affectionate towards her. If he did, then we would’ve gotten a single scene, even just a second of them together to further emphasize how neglected Zuko was by Ozai and why Zuko seems to have such distaste for Azula. Notice how Ozai was in the background, yet we didn’t see Azula with him or even running to him after she was reprimanded by Ursa.

“My father, Fire Lord Ozai, and I are about to make history together! Side by side, we will burn the Earth Kingdom to the ground. Now that’s what I call quality father-daughter time!”

- Azula (Sozin’s Comet: The Final Battle)

What she said here just further reinforces my point that Azula was not actually close to Ozai, at least not in that father-daughter level that Zuko had with Ursa. No one would say something like that, unless they had never experienced it before. Azula said this because their father and daughter bonding time was a rare occurrence, maybe even non-existent, which is why she was so thrilled about this particular matter. Finally, I’m going to be spending time with father!

That was basically Azula’s relationship with Ozai throughout her life. If not deemed approved, she was ignored–like Zuko. And we saw what Ozai did when Azula had actually failed him despite her past accomplishments. To Ozai, Azula was nothing but something to show off to his nation, to use as a weapon against his enemies.

1. Effects of Ursa’s banishment

Now, what was the last thing Ursa had said to Azula?

‘Go to bed, young lady, now.’

Not really a nice last memory to remember of her mother, is it? Sure, Ursa did come to Azula’s room before she left, even kissed her cheek. Ursa loved her children, that was certain enough, but then Ursa had actually woken Zuko up to tell him this. The last thing she also called him was ‘my love’.

Compare their last conversation with their mother. Azula’s was a scolding, whereas Zuko’s was a heartfelt goodbye. Zuko knew that Ursa had gone to his room to say goodbye, but Azula had no memory of this moment for her, at all.

Now what’s worse is that Azula actually realized this. From the way Zuko was running, worried, and his tone of questioning about their mother’s whereabouts, Azula deduced that Ursa had said something to him before she left. Why else would Zuko be this concerned and panicked if he didn’t know about Ursa’s sudden disappearance? Azula didn’t know anything about it. She found out from someone else, most likely her servants and maybe even Ozai after asking around, which was why she responded with a ‘no one knows’. Azula believed that Ursa had never come into her room, because Ursa didn’t see any worth in doing so, because she didn’t love her. That was what reaffirmed Azula’s conclusion of believing that her mother saw her as a monster, that her own mother did not love her.

Ursa’s banishment also affected the siblings’ relationship considerably. We saw how Azula would involve Zuko in her sneaky little antics as a child, and Zuko would blatantly refuse those offers until Ursa would come in and prompt him to play with his sister or if he was basically forced to tag along. Either way, without Ursa, Zuko would’ve mostly not agreed to play with Azula.

There had always been that bitter rivalry between the two caused by Ozai and Ursa. Zuko would reject Azula’s gestures of bonding because:

Azula was a sneaky little devil. Totally normal for a little sister to play pranks on their older brother, and either way most brothers tend to get annoyed of their little sisters at that age.

Zuko hated Azula. She was receiving all the praise and attention from everyone, from their father, when he was supposed to be the one receiving all those things since he was after all the first-born and Crown Prince.

Difference of ideology. Zuko acted based on emotions and heart, whereas Azula based on logic. They’re opinions on matters would’ve certainly clashed which would’ve further distanced the 2 as they grew older.

The absence of Ursa would’ve also meant that Ozai would’ve had a greater influence on his children now, and all the more so with Azula since she was the one he was focusing on. Azula had always been under Ozai’s influence, more so than Ursa’s, but when Ursa was present, Azula had divided her interests on appeasing both her parents (though that never worked with Ursa either way). Now that Ursa was gone, Azula would have just concentrated on appeasing Ozai and thus she would’ve behaved in the manner he would’ve approved of, and there would be no one to correct or reprimand her for that since Ursa was gone.

2. Effects of Zuko’s banishment

The obvious effect of Zuko’s banishment would’ve first been Azula’s accession to the line. With Zuko banished and his honor stripped, Azula had become Crown Princess to the Fire Nation. She was to be Ozai’s new successor. She would’ve no longer needed to be seen as a spare.

But this new title had also given Azula more obstacles. As the apparent heir to the throne, that meant that Azula had to become the most or one of the most powerful bender/s alive, which meant that her trainings would’ve definitely become harsher and more intensive. She would’ve been pushed much beyond her limits. She would’ve had more duties to hold such as commanding soldiers and whatnot, at merely age 11. If she was capable of those tasks, Ozai would’ve forced her to do it.

With Zuko gone, this also made Azula face a new emotion. Loneliness. She’d been practically relying on her brother’s outbursts to her mocking as her source of entertainment, and without him, there was suddenly no reason to be entertained. Zuko was the only person Azula could’ve behaved normally with, like a child. He was also the only person she could really talk to albeit in a condescending manner since her friends were unavailable (Ty Lee had run off the circus years before the present timeline and Mai was basically emotionally unavailable as well). The only people in the palace with her was the palace’s staff, the in-and-out War Generals and Ozai. She couldn’t have spoken to her servants or the Imperial Firebenders since they all would’ve just agreed to whatever she was saying as to not upset her. She would’ve needed to speak to the War Generals like an adult when she was actually just a child, and since Ozai hadn’t spent time with her even before his role as Fire Lord, there was definitely no time to spare with her with the war and all. The only normal human interaction Azula basically had was with Lo and Li, and even those 2 were critical of her when it came to training. This basically isolated Azula from everyone else but her father.

Zuko’s banishment had also involved Iroh leaving, which like Ursa, meant that there would’ve been no one to protect Azula from Ozai’s cruelty, or more realistically, no one to at least lessen his Ozai’s influence on her or to tell him when was ‘enough’. One by one, all the people she cared about started to leave and be free from Ozai’s grasp, while she remained to be in his clutches.

So banishments? They were basically a blessing in disguise. The real cruel punishment was staying under Ozai’s roof, with the very man himself.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #azula #zuko #ursa #ozai #meta #fire nation #iroh #long post lmao

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deepintoforestwego · 5 years

Text

Is there anything behind my face?

She is born knowing three things.

First is that her skin is as white as snow, her lips as red as blood, her hair as black as ebony.

Second is that seven times seven men had died so that she should live.

Third is, she shouldn't exist.

( Harsh thing for child to know, much less from moment of her birth. And harsher yet, she is right.

Were we willing to waste time in such way, we could debate about morality, about whether sins of parents transfer to children, about personal responsibility and knowledge men shouldn't wield, about whether you can blame her for what her beauty drives men to anymore then you can blame fire for burning those who get close- but that isn't kind of right we are talking about here.

It is a simple truth, written in bones of world, in lifeblood of universe, in skin of night and face of day- the snow shouldn't become person, because it is impossible.

But magic never cared about such things.)

She has feared her mother from very start, you see, and perhaps that is where trouble started, or mayhaps that saved her life. She knew she shouldn't be, you see, but very little else, as she was still just a newborn, and had never seen human before, though parts of her belonged to them, of course.

And queen may have not slept in while, and was rather cold and hungry and scared, and quite dainty woman to be honest, but she had this way of holding herself that made people defer to her, and she was all wrapped up in ermine and gold velvet and pearls, and she oozed magic like an old fish oozed stench, and child could see bargain wrapping up around two of them, and well she knew nothing of sorcery and it's limitations, so she must be forgiven for assuming this woman was deity who created her.

(Like I said, it was bad idea all from the start.)

'' My goddess. You who made me.'' Said the girl, for her mother could be clever and careful when she put her mind to it, and had requested for girl to have knowledge befitting her age and station, because everything else would have been rather awkward for her, and more importantly bad for her mother's plans.

''Not exactly, my dear. I am a human, I am afraid.'' The queen answered, after some consideration, because she did like being called goddess, even though she associated it more with her young lovers and her poor mother, but it would be quite strange for princess to go around talking like that, and even queen, as hungry for flattery as she was, was made uncomfortable by thought of girl meant to be her daughter worshipping her.

''My mistress. You who own me.'' Girl stated, slowly, drawing out words, her throat feeling quite funny, speaking for first time, as languages and social norms and concepts and table manners filled her head as flood fills empty house, for girl had no memories and experiences to trouble incoming information.

''Well! That was nicely put, though accent could use some work, but not befitting somebody of your station. Try again, dear.'' Said the queen, as her face settled down in an expression more befitting on a cat who just snatched a canary, and closed her eyes, her eyelids fluttering as she imagined her servants speaking in that delightfully obedient tone, so sure of their place, below her, defined by her.

‘My mother. You who gave me life.’‘ She says, still kneeling, and years later she will forget, or try to, bury it down, of how the queen's s smile grew when she heard those words, how she sat down and embraced still kneeling girl, and flinched when her warm hands touched cold, hard skin. It bruised her arms a bit, as if she had tried to hug a statue left out too long in winter's winds.

''Yes, my dear.'' Queen said, clutching her dark hair in her fingers, embracing her so hard that she almost had trouble breathing, and breathed in her daughter's smell, harsh and sweet aroma of pitch, the comforting freshness of newly fallen snow, the sharp smell of iron and salt.

The princess, who still didn't know what perfumes were, smelled her mother, the scent of flowers and herbs permeating her clothing, and underneath it something gross and hot (she had not yet known what sweat and soft human skin were like) and wondered why they were so different, and decided that didn't matter.

They arrive to place that girl nameless supposes is to be her home in quarter of hour, faster than the queen had ever journeyed before, for magic is ever fed by passion and from the heart, and queen had been almost drunk on pride of her success, joy from what would that mean for her, from terror and euphoria girl's beauty awoke in her, and as she hadn't slept and eaten in some time, and had almost died, her emotions running high and mad, so it wouldn't be hard for her to jump over to another country.

''This is my castle.'' The mother tells her, showing her wooden ring fortress, as they stand before wooden doors of main hall, and great noise is coming from it. Were somebody to watch, they would probably think girl emotionless, the hollow heartless thing, for she shows neither fear nor wonder (well, if she wasn't so beautiful, that is, and they were able to focus on something else other than it). But truth is, she is still far too young to know about wealth and royal power, and has seen nothing but blizzard and woman she believes to be greatest sorceress in world. There is nothing yet ingrained in her to respond.

''Inside is your father, the king.'' Now this word sparks something in her, for the queen has judged it the knowledge very important, that she must learn as soon as possible. The girl knows now, that king is the most important man in world, and that if she is to be good she will be his heir and continue to make her mother proud and powerful.

She isn't sure she wants to be powerful. But mother is, and mother wants more, and mother made her so that is probably good.

She also knows what a father is. A male parent, who names you, one whom you have to respect, obey, love... but not as much as mother.

Doors open, and noise hurts but she doesn't yet know how to react. She follows mother's lead, and steps inside.

And rest of world stops for everybody else.

***

''My weregild.'' The mother coos, almost mews as she watches seven little bodies swing on rope, their faces that awful, strange purple people call blue for some reason though it's more of grey and lilac with pinch of black and scarlet, and smile doesn't leave her face, though at one point it grows stale and uncertain.

The princess learns what brothers are only later, when she has learnt enough to recognize guilt for what it is.

She doesn't yet have name for feelings that possess her, the way her stomach churns and turns at sight of those small, rotting bodies (she has never learnt what death was, it had been built in her from before she was an inkling of thought), swaying on wind as ravens come to feast.

Were she just a spell- child, body built and operated by magic, she would have felt nothing. She would have danced and spoke as her maker demanded. Were she a changeling, or just a creature snow and blood and ebony in truth, she would have looked with curiosity, or apathy, and noted how it was unjust, and how petty and strange humans are. And were she truly her mother's daughter, she would have said it was just, for as she had no childhood, so they should be denied to grow old.

But she was neither of those, so she learnt regret.

***

She doesn't like to think about her name. Much less discuss it. If you try to ask her about it, today, well good luck. Hope you will make it out with some teeth intact at least.

She has one name, and hundreds. It is same name, but always so different, like light reflecting off from one snowflake, viewed from different angles. Run away to so many countries, run for so long, and of course it is changed so many times, of course it is translated when she has such dumb name. She hates the original too, but she hates variations even more- what right do they have to change her name, to change anything about her and her damned story? And change it they do, oh yes, cutting off parts and rearranging them, calling her Snowdrop and Snow White and Snežana and Blanche-Neige and Branca de Neve and Albanix and Sneewittchen and Schneewittchen and she can't number them all, snow and whiteness everywhere...

She is well aware that her name is literal and obvious and dumb, and if you ever point it out it won't go well for you. Only once did one person ( a beautiful princess who belongs to death and dreams like her, and almost as much to flowers and briars as she belongs to snow and blood, those daughters of woods and curses), with accidental addition of too much drink, get her to talk about that, and this is what she said.

''Don't know who called me that first. I think it came from some poor bard who burst in songs about me until he died from lack of food and sleep. Detracted from glorifying me, see. Or wait, not a bard, bard's apprentice, about twelve. Might have had some Sight within him. Or it was my father, doesn't matter.

People picked it up because it was only fitting name, see. I couldn't be saddled with normal name, I was above it- and anybody else with that name would forever think of me, and it would never feel right for them. Except that now in some countries they do use my name, or version of it as a normal name so what waste of time, right?

Anyway point is they wanted to call me by something that could properly describe me and Beautiful was far too tacky and Ebony Black weird and Blood Red is just creepy so, here we are! Cheers!

The bitch never called me anything. Just my princess, my dear, my daughter. My, my, my. Always the same shit.'' And of course, this is the lie, though one she prefers to believe.

Truth is, she forgot it. She forgot all names, and only roles remained.

***

The queen did one true kindness to her, because anything else would have been incredibly harmful for her goals, and because she wasn't wholly bereft of morals and reason, and still it hurt.

She had made it, when she cast her spell, when she screamed her wish in reality, when she bargained, that her daughter would have mind befitting her seeming age. Because stupid daughter was useless, and better no child than one that had that kind of problems (queen was biggest supporter of leaving people who were anything less than perfect, or at least acceptable, to die in woods, whether they were loving father gone senile or caring brother whose arm had to be amputated), and because she hated associating with such people- and in her mind, whoever had limping leg or trembling hands, or who had problems with reading or remembering faces was worse than animal, for animals could be useful, and toothless dogs were to be put down.

The girl had barely settled in her new form, though she walked with grace unparalleled and strode with pride and strength only queen herself could outshine, when she began changing and growing. She didn't know how to feel about that, as she wasn't normal girl, and already half way past through puberty, and nobody would ever tease her, or think her anything less but most beautiful creature they had ever seen.

(Creature. A step up from thing.)

Still, it felt strange, and uncomfortable, and very wicked to have her change and grow before she had truly had chance to enjoy her girlhood. The queen, who was very clever, and knew how to nurse man from brink of death as well as she knew how to craft a drink to paralyze an ox for six hours, explained her how everything about her body worked, and how those changes were completely natural, and how she would soon grow taller and how her face would get slimmer and more mature. In fact, she was growing up at same pace as most girls did, and that delighted queen greatly, for woman grown was an enemy, and eternally young girl was useless, and not to mention a great annoyance.

(That was part of why she waited so long, until she was ready to cast her spell. It took time to find information, and to convince everybody she had lost her reason, but she wanted to put it off as far as possible, because raising child was such dull and taxing affair, and she really didn't need additional source of wrinkles.)

The princess had never woken up her parents and nurses in middle of night with her incessant crying. She had never fallen and scraped her knee and broken in hysterics. She had never climbed tree. She had never played ball. She had never been carried in her father's arms. She had never been told bedtime stories. She had never learned to read, or been tutored in counting. Her mother had never explained to her how to comb her hair. She had never had it explained to her how children are born, nor what marriage was. She had never muddied her dress. She had never played with kittens.

(She had never needed to have dying explained to her.)

She wasn't naive (spell-girls built by men often were, inexperience and weakness and dependence of child in an adult body, but her mother had grander, more arrogant fantasies, though no less sick), she wasn't stupid, she wasn't lost. She had grown, and adapted to her world, and soon all things she missed, all knowledge and experience she wasn't born with, granted by magic, became part of her.

But lacuna where her childhood should have been remained, raw and gaping, as if somebody had pulled out all her teeth before she had chance to bite a crust of bread.

***

She learns at her mother's knee.

She learns from her father, of course, because she is made the heir, and she learns history and geography and riding and politics and swordfighting and wielding axe, but it doesn't matter that much. Her father is a pale figure in her life, and ordinary man trembling before her, dead when she is three, and her mother walks through world as if she is above it, and hemlock and lily-of-the-valley grow behind her.

There was much to learn at the queen's feet, even things no child should learn, even things queen never intended to teach her. Part of it was that such were times- in those days castles were small and wooden, and courts less formal and complicated, and queens themselves worked, mending clothes and pulling their weight. It could have lessened them, made them normal women in eyes of their subjects, but her mother knew how to wrap dignity and mystery around herself. She knew how to make people kneel.

Her mother taught her domestic arts, of course. She was good, dutiful wife, and more over not sort of woman who shrank away from her duty and hard work. But more important, she taught her daughter, though girl could never be sure whether by accident or intent, how to look beautiful when doing it, how to look powerful as she spun thread, exalted as she made her own bed. When queen mended her husband's head, he lowered his head and reverently expressed his gratitude.

She taught her spellcraft, by observance at least. It was power that queen couldn't truly have shared with her even if she wanted (and she would have rather sheared her own hair than given up one of her secrets). Her mother was skilled, learned mage, if not particularly powerful by talent alone. She drew her power from gems, herbs, potions, from rings that turned you invisible, cloaks that allowed you to fly, seven mile boots.

Snow White had leanings of witch, it seemed. Hers was power of rituals and motions, of rites and ceremonies, of dances under harvest moon that changed fate of kings, of hair ribbons cut by seven grandmothers over mountain river on which mill was built to make friendship sour... or she would have, had she ever been taught. But she had been made heir, and there was much to learn, and being witch or priestess wouldn't have been good for her (pity, she would have made a good völva, she was pretty sure). She did pick up few things, though, but it was unavoidable.

Blood and mirrors, all she learnt.

***

She wondered what it was that made her beautiful.

Her skin? Her skin, so white that it blinded, white as snow that covered ground swiftly after the last harvests, like snow in which travellers met their demise, like snow that stopped wars. Her skin, which was always smooth and tight and hard, like marble, whose touch was always cool, which didn't grow blue even when she stood wet on roof during whole winter night, which always carried chill of a dead man in itself, even during midsummer.

Her lips? Her lips, with their perfect shape, and their full colour, which never paled or chapped, as if they were painted on, colour of blood seeping from fresh venison, colour of blood gushing from child's cut arteries, lips that tasted of iron and salt and minced flesh, that left bruises on cheeks they kissed, which could withstand warmth of broth just pulled from hearth (though she despised heat to such amount that she felt uneasy to spend more than few hours in room in which fireplace was lit).

Her hair? Her hair, so long and wild, spreading out like crown of ancient tree, slipping down below her waist, and yet somehow it never got tangled up in world around it, slipping like snake through all obstacles, black as ebony, as handles of spears that pierced children, as frames of windows that kept out wind and rain. Left and right it reached, like shadow of branches, like hands of bogeys, and never it got tangled, never did it get torn or weak.

Some said that when she had been growing up, that she had never had to suffer zits, or growth spurts, or ungainly limbs, that she had simply slipped in perfect ladylike adulthood. Others yet said that she suffered all indignities of childhood, of being teenager, and yet she was most beautiful of them all.

She wondered what it was that made people beautiful. There was woman with most stunning purple eyes, like lilac blossoms, like dusk sky, and people agreed she was very beautiful, but were disgusted by sight of her shoulders, filled with short, fat, coarse black hairs. There was tall man, very strong and muscled, in way that would have drawn him much attention, were it not for his crooked yellow teeth, dull chin and broken nose. There were children who had cutest, sweetest faces, with shining eyes and soft lips, who walked with bent backs and reedy fingers. It seemed all very much strange and whimsical and cruel to her, and very much useless and foolish.

She was beautiful. No, she was fair. Were she malnourished and her face slashed and mutilated, were she turned in beast, in worm or featherless bird (those two were equally dreary things, in her mother's opinion) still she would have been the best of them. When she came to doors, though they were closed, inside men waited and stopped breathing, awaiting her. They trailed after her, excited to earn her favour. Still she was a girl, and magic inside her was settling, so she wasn't fairest in the world, but one day wars would be waged for her, because of her, in her name. One day, when she had grown bitter and harsh and so much angrier, at gaze of her people would prostate themselves, and shake from being in same room with her, and they would not sleep, memories muddled and drunk, and in dreams they would swear to her again and again, for fear and love would mingle in one.

Her mother was beautiful, and sorceress, and she had killed and fucked and loved, and she had much gold, and she could make fields prosper and cows miscarry with her spells, and men dreaded her, and respected her, and loved her. Her grandmother called her Freyja made human, and paid for it.

Snow White had been called goddess, and valkyrie, and many more things. And she may have possessed spark of that true, primordial beauty, but she was mortal still. Gods were born and could die but not like men. Snow White breathed, and slept, and she could cut herself, and she could get lost, and she had thrown tantrums before, and were you to cut her throat she would die. She was not a goddess, to rule over skies and dead, at best she was an image, a shadow, a mask, shallow surface layer of divine beauty, not enough to charm stars in kneeling before her, but heavy enough that it crushed her.

(When she was young, she saw her mother's mirror once. It's frame was twisted and strained thing, contorted in ways that were hard to look at, like a dying snake experiencing a seizure. The glass was colour of frozen mercury, and reflection in it wasn't opposite of reality, and sometimes it churned and twisted, making little waves, and always it whispered.

Most people stayed away from it, and even the queen couldn't bear to be too long in room with it, but the princess was drawn to it, like iron to magnet.

''Oh. You are like me.'' Whispered the mirror, in toneless voice that echoed in her head, and it pulsed like heart, and writhed like worms in waves, and sighed as she put her cold fingers over it's surface, neither chill nor warm.)

***

It was easy to become a king, she learnt. You had to be born a prince, or earn king's favour, or lie to enough people so they would bow to you, or kill enough of them, preferably previous king too. All in all, it seemed very stupid and unfair to Snow White, who didn't really get why people needed kings, but said nothing because she knew what was appropriate, and because she was raised to inherit kingdom and didn't really think of how unjust it was outside of random musings.

It wasn't easy to become a queen, no matter what some thought and said. Any woman could be married to king, depending on how picky he was, and how much politics demanded from him, and how much he disrespected her rights. But only few became queens, true rulers, because they were taught not to seek respect and power, because they were beaten back, because game was set against them, because they were declawed and defanged and chained since earliest age, because they were taught to find pride and comfort in being silenced and starved. It took certain rare amount of cleverness and stubbornness and dedication, and, perhaps, ruthlessness, to become queen.

But Snow White didn't have to worry about that. Her mother loved her, and worked hard to ensure that her daughter would never have to go through all the trouble and misery she had to dredge through, and still she would get so much more. It was so hard for her poor mother, after all, to stand and suggest her idea to the king as he was busy being enraptured by his daughter.

How could he refuse her? How could he name anybody else but his most incredible daughter as his heir (the queen gritted her teeth), how could he dishonour her by not offering her everything he had? And would not people rebel if anybody else ruled them, would not enemies beg to be stricken down by her? So he thought, and declared, and people were outraged and shocked until they had seen her, and then ambassadors returned to their kings weeping, telling them they have been become traitors, for never could their hearts belong to anybody but queen Snow White.

Thus, thought it was expected that she would be married, for that is what normal people did, and beauty didn't prevent people from grumbling when they weren't near her, there was never much pressure for that, and everybody understood that no man would be worthy of her, and all would be blessed to have her as bride, and they would only be consorts, never kings.

It was taken for granted that there would be no problem finding suitors for her, aside from possibly having to deal with wars that rejected suitors would bring to their footsteps ( something that would easily be dealt with, not only because the king was good warrior, and the queen even better sorceress, but because any invader would have to carve their path through whole nation of berserkers ready to die for their princess, and even more ready to tear apart any who would dare to try to steal her away). It was also taken for granted that king would have to pay no dowry, and that indeed princes would be ones bleeding their people dry in hopes of winning her over.

As was only proper, the queen had been one to choose her son-in-law, for the princess had asked her so, for her mother had assured her countless times of how much she cared, how smart she was, and how much more experienced, and she would be able to choose only the best for her dear daughter, a man whose kingdom would always provide for her, a man who would be her age and always kind to her, for those were hefty favours to ask in marriage, her mother told her. Kind husband was something you had to earn, as the queen did, but since she was such kind mother and her daughter so special, she would get all the spoils without any work.

And truly, the queen chose well. Prince was the same (apparent) age as Snow White, and he was sole heir of nearby kingdom, richer and greater than one her father ruled (so greater that only thing that kept it from swallowing up their home, aside from their king's courtesy, was the queen, who knew all plans and desires of their neighbours, and could hold off the harvest and spring for years). He was said to be canny but honest, and rather good with sword and bow but pleasant, never one to seek out bloodshed. He was honourable and fair, and though well liked by ladies, hadn't dishonoured even one.

It sounded like bullshit to her, to be honest. Even her father, who was fair and wise, had his moments- he loved brawl, especially when he broke somebody's bones. And Snow White, well, she kept herself away from people, and never harmed anybody (but never helped out either), and still she had cruelty built in down to smallest piece of herself. Still, there were no whispers, no juicy gossip, and mirror found nothing unsatisfying and dangerous about him (for her mother would never lend her greatest treasure to somebody who would damage it), and so it was that Snow White was to be engaged.

The princess had met his parents, once or twice, for they sometimes rode out near borders of her country, and she had scried them, once she learnt where she was to be wed, in bronze mirror she had and rarely used for anything else. The king was thin, wiry man, with wild graying beard and wry voice, covered in pale old scars, and missing few teeth, and otherwise utterly unremarkable. His wife, a merchant's daughter they said he married for love, was short and warm woman, as sweet and well beloved as fat, greased meal in late autumn, with face as round as apple and eyes like chestnuts, or so flatterers said.

The prince was very handsome, they said. He was of fine face and figure, strong and healthy, with teeth that were nearly white, and warm eyes like amber, with flickers of gold inside it. His skin was of warm, ruddy tone, and he moved with energetic, dangerous strength and grace, as if he had fire inside himself. With his auburn hair, like wood in fall, and his clothes, all gold and russet, he was said to be as beautiful as sunrise.

He wasn't, and she envied him for that. She envied them all, him for his ordinary beauty, his mother for her soft, sweet features, his father for being unremarkable and gray.

( Snow White was a human girl, and so she was often prey to all misfortunes that plagued them, even teen woes. But as wrapped up in magic and mystery as she was, even that had to be unusual.

Truth is, Snow White is envious of everybody. There isn't a single face, single body she doesn't desire more than hers. She desires form that some would find boring, nothing special, perhaps even funny or repulsive. She envies her mother's fallen rival, her father's former lady, her brother's mother, for she is famous for her eyes as blue as sea, but princess finds neither salt nor waves nor fishes nor thousand shades and forms of water in them. She envies the cook's apprentice, for though she is known as very attractive woman, and it brings her trouble occasionally, she can talk to her brothers without them shaking with glee as they look at her. She envies her prince's mother, who is loved and respected for reasons that have nothing to do with beauty.

She has had her fair share of crushes, never acted on because they weren't appropriate for somebody of her status, because her mother wouldn't be satisfied with her choice, because they couldn't stop drooling when she passed. And so they all died, candle flames extinguished before they were anything more than a spark, leaving her to choke on guilt and longing and bitterness, to suffocate in impossible, petty desires.

She had never desired anybody because of their looks. She couldn't, because she had never been able to perceive beauty in people, because she had herself to rate them against. She looked at finest examples of human beauty and found thousand flaws, looked at them and saw how artificial it was, how dependent on right time and place and taste. Snow White could be skinned alive and have her bones broken and her head split open and covered in dirt and yet anywhere in world they would proclaim her the most beautiful.

But she couldn't be loved or desired. She was too stark and sharp and terrible for that. She wasn't a girl whose hand you could hold, woman who you could lay against, a person to hug and kiss and laugh with. Everything in her was hard and cold, like ice sculpture. She was there to be looked at, not loved. Because even as humans adored beautiful people, they didn't love ones who had truly been beautiful.

Human beauty was shallow, false and thin. All humans were equally beautiful, and they just had to work more or less on convincing others to find them attractive. But Snow White bore true beauty, heavy as mountain, truer than her father's blade. Primordial, essential, actual, her beauty was a true, divine thing, real and defined in mutable, shapeless world of human misconceptions. She was a marble statue trapped among embroidered caricatures, and she envied them so much.)

So she held no hopes, and received a grand surprise. For though her prince's eyes seemed ready to fall out of his skull, and bliss sparkled in them as tears gathered on edges, after some time he composed himself and gave her warm, cocky smile, and bowed and kissed her hand and talked with her.

They talked. They rode on horses. He laughed at her embroidery. She rolled eyes at his jokes. They showed each other their favourite hiding places. They sparred with hands and swords. He lost to her in race and she in archery. They walked in woods and put their knowledge of animals and herbs to trial. She learnt that he was truly as good and honest as he was rumoured to be, but easily bored, and he could get lost daydreaming, and loved to go sight seeing, and fussed too much about his clothes. He learnt that she liked to forage berries, and kept falcons, and hated jewellery, and was horrible dancer. They had even argued few times!

She fell in love with him, a little. Enough that they kept contact when she ran away. Enough that he wanted to expose queen's crimes. Enough that he wanted to give her honour of burial. Enough that when he died, she walked away.

Enough that he said nothing, when she commissioned shoes for her mother.

('' I wish he'd at least pretend to treat me like person.'' She had whispered, standing alone in his father's corridors, and when she met him she believed he was somehow immune to her beauty , that he saw person underneath.

''Stop with that!'' She shouted, when men offered her their hearts, and they did, and only later she noticed that some people adored her in quiet, steadfast way, no less terrible but much subtler, because they didn't want to die for her, they wanted to serve her.

''I love you.'' She told him, and of course he said yes, of course he loved her, he had to, even as he laid dying, and years later she kept wondering whether she imagined something russet and golden running at end of corridors.)

***

When she is queen, she will keep her chambers bare.

Everything about her will be bare, and simple, and cold. They will say, her husband’s people, when they are far away from her, that it is because she comes from colder, humbler, more barbarian kingdom that she is unused to fine luxury (she likes simple things because she spent so much time in the woods, they say, not understanding how rich, how elaborate, how beautiful everything was there, roots mingling and binding each other in knotwork, impossible shapes in bark, flowers worth more than jewels everywhere around her.)

There will be no excess, no luxury in her sanctuary. No tapestries, no costly furniture, no mirrors. Only bare, chill stone and bed to uphold a minor illusion of normalcy ( a girl of ice and death born, she has slept on Forest floor, and dreamed in mines, and slumbered in coffin of glass and gold). No satin, no velvet, no silk, no gowns or embroidery or crown, for she has no need of them.

No jewellry. Nobody will again tell her she is as precious as gems at her throat.

***

She doesn't dream. She remembers. She remembers memories that are not hers, lodged in between her flesh and bones.

She remembers winter. Always, always it is with her, more crucial than breath, than her name, almost as important as her beauty. She remembers cold of Niflheimr and of coming of first spring. She remembers snowflakes forming in clouds and melting on human faces, the mountain tips lined with white, the ice covering pines, the frost on abandoned blades, the rime that gathers at hem of lost shawls, the chill creeping over river's stones, the snowdrops rising from forming poodles, the crunch of frozen ground as her mother goes to border of Forest.

She remembers having bark, which protected her from rain, and wind, from cold and bugs. She remembers having roots, digging through soil, pulling water and minerals from ground, reaching out to taste sunlight. She remembers how it felt when sap coursed through her, her branches swaying on wind, her leaves remaining green even in winter as those of her neighbours turned brown and red and fell, remembers feeding on rotting flowers and grass caressing her trunk, the seeds falling and spreading, birds making nest in her crown, the queen's knife cutting branches off, off, off.

She remembers being warm, and flowing, being inside the veins. She remembers being child crying for parents lost to plague, the leper cast out of town, the old woman begging for scraps. She remembers warm, concerned voices of mothers who aren't hers, remembers being father, and having gray hair, and being hungry, and told she is ugly (in waking world she cannot imagine that feeling bad, but in dream it is, remembers childhoods that aren't hers. She remembers being scared of bleeding, being cold, and queen saving her/him/them, of being servants and obeying all her wishes, being trusted, and she remembers the blade, the curse, flowing over figure made out of snow until it turns pink, staining and clotting upon ebony talismans.

She dreams of hands upon her throat, and dying, and melting, losing everything, going to no hall, rejoining earth and water and coldness, and it is so peaceful that she almost regrets when she wakes up...

These are terrors that follow her in her dreams. In waking world, she cannot escape seven boys, running after her like most loyal dogs, begging to serve her.

***

At edge of every kingdom there is Forest.

There is difference between a forest and the Forest, just as there is difference between beautiful person and Snow White. The first is just bunch of trees and animals, which, perhaps bit scary at night, can be cut down and cleared away. But the Forests, are so much more, existing outside of civilized world, thinking and feeling and hungering, holding darkness and treasures and monsters within. Place where secrets are born, where miracles go to die, where Quests are done.

The Forests don't like people. They say that Forests were forged from Ymir's dying curse, and therefore there is terrible, chaotic power in them. Thousands of years ago, they marched against them, marched against whole world, and in three days humanity was crushed. For the Forests were grown before intelligent life came to be, and they despised men and their accomplishments. And so no weapon, no spell, no thing made by mortal hands held power within Forests. The strongest sorcerers were rendered powerless, and sharpest blade failed to cut.

It waits for her. Castle where she grew was far away from Forests, so far away that you couldn't even see it on horizon, even as a dark line, but Snow White felt it every day. Being a human girl, somewhat, she didn't know how to feel about it, and sometimes she could ignore it so well that she forgot it's existence, and sometimes it occupied all her thoughts.

(Were she only a spell-child, she would have noticed nothing. Were she a changeling, each day she would have felt same, and knew exact reason why. But mortal she was, and thus she was plagued with uncertain heart.)

Whether she wants or not, someday she will go to the Forest. Things like her must, just as snow must fall. She is too strange and cursed, even for a world full only of witches. She is meant for legends, and some tale will dig it's claws in her, and every tale has it's beginnings in Forest, even ones who have nothing to do with them. And she dreads when that day comes, because in Forest no spell can last, and what shall happen to her then?

(They are at her mother's hidden halls, as they are at every of her birthdays. She is seven, but to rest of the world she is twenty. She rides out, and huntsman accompanies her.

She is always accompanied by somebody, of course, because she must be protected, because always there is danger she would be kidnapped, for who wouldn't want to possess her? The huntsman is young, and good looking, or so she supposes. To her he looks like washed out, boring bunch of bones and flesh, but other girls say he is handsome, and to his misfortune queen agrees. But he is young, and he wants to live, and he is smart, but he has got conscience and she is so beautiful, that he breaks down and confesses everything.

A mother willing to kill her own daughter, and eat her intestines. Sounds horrible, but once they spend some time with princess people understand, even if they believe she was born like them. To live alongside somebody so beautiful, to be outshined while you grew older, weaker, as death came closer, that was horrible enough, but knowledge that nothing you ever do will help you come even closer to impossible ideal that is Snow white is horrible enough. Nobody could live with her, no more than they could gaze in Sun for years.

And besides, beauty like that, it doesn't belong to this world, doesn't come from it, and as such isn't meant to exist there. Beauty like that, it is meant for higher, greater places, not this dreary, low world. It is meant to be a tragedy, a warning, something to mourn for forever even if we never had it. Girls like that, they exist to be beautiful corpses, because no matter what they say, it doesn't matter because nobody will care for anything else but their faces, so this way they do favour to everybody. You can't blame the queen, they say, and after all, makes sense for one who created her to be one to get rid of her.

For first time in her measly seven years of life, Snow White understands how her mother thinks. And she knows what will happen were she to face her.

She turns, and runs in heart of the Forest, in darkness, because it's monsters are at least honest.)

***

She is five hundred and sixty three years old when she sacrifices first child to escape.

Oh, not in usual sense, not yet anyway (it will be little bit longer before she drags children to crossroads at midnight and spills their blood and cooks their hearts to buy escape). Of course, she has killed young people, and somebody's children before, some of them her own descendants, but she has never sacrificed any child. She hasn't taken something innocent and powerless and blameless and cut it's life short to buy few more seconds, because that isn't how story goes. people tell it, and they believe, and souls are dragged from death to relieve it. And hers is simplest story. The queen is powerful, and she desires her death, and Snow White runs until she is caught and put in glass coffin, and then everything begins anew.

She has lived near village for some seven years by then, wrapped up in shawls and masks, because even though it doesn't stop people from gazing in awe it stops them from kneeling, because they only feel her beauty, don't see true miracle of her face. She has kept out of troubles, and even worked in mines so help the village, and she has scried lost children and horses in ice and coins, and brought them home from deep dark woods. And yet, man whose broken leg she healed heard rumours, and connected dots, and went in wide world to tell the queen. And what could she do, but take off her shawls and masks and go down, as they parted before her, as they knelt, and drag his only daughter from her home with but a smile.

''You did a cruel, horrible thing. You were hurting, and you wanted to settle accounts, so you decided to be unfair as well. it didn't help you in the end, but you decided destroying something small and blameless will make you feel better.'' The old, ugly woman with burned face and shadowed hood, dressed in grey and russet tells her, as they hide in cave, as she tends Snow White's wounds and ignores her beauty, as she holds her even as death tries to drag her down. Snow White ignores it- the world had walked over, broken and spat out Cinderella, letting her be nothing but slave, nothing but ceaseless, unpaid servant, nothing but role assigned by her story. She doesn't understand revenge because she has no hope, no happiness, no way out from her life, but Snow White won't be broken like that. Snow White will be strong for them both.

''Do you love me? Do you dare think you are worthy of sight of me? Prove it to me!'' She roars, cackles, smirks as traitor cries, as lighting races from her mother's shining rings, and girl cries and nods, laughs and bows and jumps in front of blazing magic to protect the fairest thing in the world.

For @slavicwitchling ‘s birthday, hope you like it my dear. Sequel to this drabble.

#character:snow white #Story:Snow White #fairy tale retelling #fantasy

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questionsonislam · 5 years

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I recently read on a webpage that when a martyr of christianity dies saying he is killing himself for his religion and that when a muslim does they say the killing others for their religion. This was very disturbing and another thing is that i read was that Muhammed was the kind of amn who laughed at killing others. I want to know if this is true and a short explaination of who he really is? Thank You

Was Islam spread at the point of sword? Was the Muslim emblem “The Qur’an or the sword?”Were the Muslims imperialist and after mundane power or loot? Some people like to think about that in affirmative terms; some others in the negative and some are undecided, perplexed and reluctant. But where does the Qur’an stand? What does the history of Muhammad reveal in this connection? It is certainly imperative on every honest person who has respect for truth and human dignity to find out for himself, and to reveal his findings to others The Qur’an makes it clear that, whether we want it or not, war is a necessity of existence, a fact of life, so long as there exist in the world injustice, oppression, capricious ambitions, and arbitrary claims. This may sound strange. But is it not a matter of historical record that humanity – from the early dawn of history up till now – has suffered from local, civil and global wars? And is it not also a fact that, more often than not, victorious allies settle their disputes over their gains and the status of heir defeated enemies through wars and threats of war? Even today humanity lives under constant fear and buzzes of war over many hot spots in the world. Could God overlook these facts of life? Or could the Qur’an fail to deal with the matter in a realistic and effective manner? Certainly not! And that is why Islam has recognized war as a lawful and justifiable course for self- defense and restoration of justice, freedom and peace. The Qur’an says:

Fighting is prescribed for you, and you dislike it. But it is possible that you dislike a thing, which is good for you, and that you love a thing, which is bad for you. God knows, and you know not (2:216).

And did not God check one set of people by means of another, the earth would indeed by full of mischief: But God is Full of bounty to all the worlds (2:251). And did not God check one set of people by means of another, there would surely have been pulled down monasteries, churches, synagogues and mosques in which the name of God is commemorated in abundant measure (22:40).

Although realistic in its approach, Islam never tolerates aggression from its own side or from any other side, nor does it entertain aggressive wars or the initiation of aggressive wars. Muslims are commanded by God not to begin hostilities, or embark on any act of aggression, or violate any rights of others. In addition to what has been already said in the previous chapter, some particular verses of the Qur’an are of significant bearing. God says:

Fight in the cause of God those who fight you, and do not transgress limits (begin not hostility): For God loves not transgressors. And slay them wherever you catch them, and turn them out from where they have turned you out; for tumult and oppression are worse than slaughter; but fight them not at the Sacred Mosque, unless they (first) fight you there; but if they fight you, slay them. Such is the reward of those who suppress faith. But if they cease, God is Forgiving, Most Merciful. And fight them on until there is no more persecution or oppression, and there prevail justice and faith in God; but if they cease, let there be no hostility except to those who practice oppression (2:190-193).

War is not an objective of Islam nor is it the normal course of Muslims. It is only the last resort and is used under the most extraordinary circumstances when all other measures fail. This is the actual status of war in Islam. Islam is the religion of peace: its meaning is peace; one of God’s names is peace; the daily greetings of Muslims and angels are peace; paradise is the house of peace, the adjective ‘Muslim’ means Peaceful. Peace is the nature, the meaning, the emblem and the objective of Islam. Every being is entitled to enjoy the peace of Islam and the kindness of the peaceful Muslims, regardless of religious or geographical or racial considerations, so long as there is no aggression against Islam or the Muslims. If non-Muslims are peaceful with the Muslims or even indifferent to Islam, there can be no ground or justification to declare war on them. There is no such thing as religious war to force Islam on non-Muslims, because if Islam does not emerge from deep convictions, from within, it is not acceptable to God, nor can it help its professor. If there is any religion or constitution to guarantee peaceful freedom of religion and forbid compulsion in religion, it is Islam and Islam alone. To this point the Qur’an refers as follows: Let there be no compulsion in religion: Truth stands out clear from Error; Whoever rejects Evil and believes in God has grasped the most trustworthy handhold, that never breaks, And God hears and knows all things (2:256).

Even in the propagation of Islam a Muslim is not only forbidden to employ force but is also commanded to use the most peaceful methods. To Muhammad God says: Invite (all) to the Way of your Lord with wisdom and beautiful preaching; and argue with them in ways that are best and most gracious: For your Lord knows best who have strayed from His path and who receive guidance (16:125).

And dispute you not with the people of the Book (Jews and Christians) except with means better (than mere disputation), unless it be with those of them who inflict wrong (and injury): But say: ’We believe in the Revelation which has come down to us and in that which came down to you; our God and your God is one; and it is to Him we bow (in Islam) (29:46).

Now if Islam is so designated for peace, and if the Muslims are so dedicated to peace, and if the Qur’an is favorable to peace, why then did Muhammad launch wars and command battles? Why does the Qur’an say ‘slay them’ and fight them? To examine this seemingly innocent inquiry, it is indispensable to mention some historical facts that accompanied and anticipated the Muslim wars against the infidels.

After receiving the Charge from God, Muhammad called a public meeting and told the assembly of what he had received, appealing to them to give up their idol-worship and believe in the One True God. His first peaceful and logical appeal was met not only with resistance but also with jeers, mockery and laughter. He tried continually to present his people with the blessed call but had little success. Because he was not left free to propagate Islam in the open, he had to resort to private preaching for some years to save the lives of his few followers and mitigate their hardships. When instructions from God came to him to preach in the open, persecutions and torture increased and were brutally inflicted on the Muslims. But the more the persecutions increased, the higher the number of Muslims arose. The infidels tried all kinds of pressure and temptation to silence the Call of God. But the more they tried, the firmer Muhammad and the Muslims stood. When the infidels failed to shake the Faith of the Believers by threats, pressure, confiscation of property, jeers, etc., they organized a harsh boycott, a fierce campaign of ostracism, against the Muslims. For some years the Muslims were forced to remain within a very tight circle of association, unable to preach or sell or buy or marry or contact any of their fellow Meccans. Even this did not shake the Muslims’ Faith. The boycott went on until the infidels themselves were tired of its observance and had to call it off.

Bringing the severe boycott to an end was no indication of peace or anticipation of tranquility on the part of the infidels. On the contrary, pressure and persecution continued with a rapid increase, but it was all in vain as far as the Muslims were concerned. Finally, the infidels convened a summit conference behind closed doors to discuss what to do next to eliminate Islam and get rid of Muhammad once and for all.

A unanimous resolution was adopted to select a strong man from every tribe and murder Muhammad in his bed. The mission of Muhammad was not destined to end at that level. So, God instructed him to leave Mecca, his dear hometown, and migrate to Medina to reunite with the native Muslims and the earlier emigrants who had fled from Mecca to Medina (see Qur’an 8:30; 9:40). This was the Great Event of Hijrah or Emigration with which the history of Islam began and by which the Muslim Calendar goes.

Fleeing from Mecca, the Muslims were forced by a variety of circumstances to leave behind practically all their properties, belongings and even families. As soon as they settled in Medina, Muhammad resumed his peaceful preaching and his gracious invitation to Islam. Some natives responded favorably to the Call of God and immediately became full-fledged members of the Muslim community. Others did not embrace Islam but maintained their traditional beliefs. And because Muhammad was dedicated to dignified peace and reform, he concluded treaties with the non-Muslims assuring them of freedom and security, and creating in their hearts, for the first time, a socio-national conscience instead of the narrow tribal allegiance.

While Muhammad was engaged in these reforms, trying to organize the Muslim community at Medina and lay down the foundations of a stable and peaceful society wherein Muslims and non- Muslims could live side by side, the enemies at Mecca were restless. Their hatred of the Muslims was burning, and their determination to eliminate Islam was getting stronger and stronger every day. They reviewed their tactics and as soon as they completed their new plans, they started to implement them.

They decided to make trouble for the Muslims from within and from without. Plundering and fighting raids were organized to attack Medina and get back to Mecca with whatever loot they could lay their hands on. The non-Muslims at Medina were getting increasingly envious of the popularity of Islam and the novel spirit of brotherhood among the Muslims, something which they themselves did not experience or particularly like to see experienced. So, the enemies at Mecca hastened to exploit the situation and stir internal troubles for the Muslims. The response of the envious non-Muslims of Medina to the instigation of the Meccans was quick and manifest, and serious troubles were arising all over Medina.

Now the Muslims were being constantly threatened from within by the disenchanted at Medina as well as by the raids organized from Mecca. They were driven to a point where they could not stand any more persecution and threats. Their families were separated from them by force. Their properties were confiscated. Their blood was shed. They were forced to leave their dear hometown in three waves of migration: two to Abyssinia and one to Medina. They endured for over thirteen years. With the new tactics of the Meccan enemies there was no course for the Muslims except to await their final annihilation in a plural massacre or defend themselves against oppression and persecution.

It must have been a paradox. Islam came to assure them of dignity and strength, freedom and security, and to ally them with God the Supreme Source of goodness and help, power and peace. Yet here they were helpless and anxious, threatened and terrified. Islam commissioned them to establish peace, to enjoin the right and forbid the wrong, to support the oppressed and emancipate the subjugated, and to prove how reliable and helpful to His servants God is. But how could they do that, if they themselves were oppressed, subjugated to terror and projected to helplessness? What perplexed them most of all was that the Qur’an had been silent on the matter, and had given them no specific instructions as to what to do. Their perplexity did not last long, and God relieved their grief by a Divine resolution to solve their problems and those of any who might find themselves in a similar situation. Here is how God words His resolution:

Verily God will defend those who believe: Verily God loves not any that is a traitor to faith or shows ingratitude. To those against whom war is made, permission is given (to fight), because they are wronged; and verily, God is Most Powerful for their aid; (they are) those who have been expelled from their homes in defiance of right, (for no cause) except that they say: ‘Our Lord is God’. Did not God check one set of people by means of another, there would surely have been pulled down monasteries, churches, synagogues, and mosques, in which the name of God is commemorated in abundant measure. God will certainly aid those who aid His (cause); for verily God is Full of strength, Exalted in Might, (Able to enforce His Will). (They are) those who, if We establish them in the land, establish regular prayer and give regular charity, enjoin the right and forbid the wrong. With God rests the end (and decision) of all affairs (22:38-41).

With this permission from God there was no more persecution or oppression to be inflicted on the Muslims. There was resistance from their side to restore tranquility, to regain their peace and freedom, to reunite with their families and take back their belongings. There were battles and wars with the malicious infidels who flagrantly denied the Muslims peace and freedom. But never was there any aggression from the Muslim side, or any destruction of homes, crops, supplies, etc., or any killing of nonfighting children, women, elders and disabled people. The Muslims observed these rules and remained within the limits of God. That was something which had never been experienced before nor has been experienced after. It was under these circumstances that the Muslims had to fight, and it was with these principles and instructions of God that they in the end achieved decisive victories.

So much has been said or written about the “ruthless”Muslims, who emerged from the burning and dry deserts of dark Arabia to conquer the Roman and Persian protectorates, and even to venture around the walls of Europe. Many have expressed the opinion that those Muslims were motivated by religious zeal to spread Islam by force as far as they could reach. Many others consider this opinion silly and naive, because Islam - by its nature - cannot be forced; and even if it were supposedly forced on the conquered people, it could not have lasted there for long, and non-Muslims would have been liquidated from the conquered regions. History bears witness to the fact that wherever Islam reached it survived – with the exception of Spain on account of certain reasons, and that wherever the Muslim conquerors went, they lived side by side with non-Muslim natives. Moreover, they argue, one cannot force a religion like Islam on anyone and find him so sincere and honest about his faith as were those Muslim converts of the new lands. It needs more than compulsion to develop such good Muslims out of a defeated people, and it requires much more than suppression to make them uphold and cherish the “forced”religion.

Another trend of thought is adopted by some who like to call themselves intellectuals or enlightened critics and authorities. They are not satisfied with that silly and naïve opinion about the spread of Islam by force. They attribute the expansion of Islam to the aggressive wars launched by Muslims who suffocated in the heat and drought of Arabia, and were simply motivated by economic needs and circumstances. Those wars and adventures were not religious or spiritual but merely the outcome of pressing wants. This may indicate that the Arabs had not arisen to such a high level of sacrifice and devotion, or that after the death of Muhammad, his successors and their successors lost interest in religion altogether and took off to satisfy their immediate wants. It may also indicate that Islam itself is incapable of generating such fervor and zeal in those Muslim Arab warriors. The indication here is manifold, and the “intellectuals”of this opinion are uncertain as to which probability should have preference over others.

There is still one more trend adopted by some people who ascribe the Muslim wars out of Arabia to passionate lust for plunder and raiding. They cannot see any motive or appreciate any appeal in the Muslims except hunger for blood and desire for loot. They refuse to see any virtue in Islam and to associate the Muslims with any high motives.

The dispute between these various sections is quite serious and sometimes takes the shape of academic discussion. But be that as it may. The fact of the matter is that none of these critics has made any serious attempt to understand the whole question and present the truth in any honest manner. None of them has had the needed insight and the moral courage to come out with the true version of the entire case. How heavy their burden will be when they discover some day that they have misled and misinformed millions of people! How serious their responsibility will be when they know that they have committed grave offenses against the truth, against the Muslims and against their own followers!

It will be impossible to present here the viewpoint of Islam in detail concerning each war or battle. However, there are certain main points which will, when mentioned, give a fair idea of the whole Matter.

1. It should be remembered that Muhammad, who was commissioned by God as a mercy for all mankind, tried to approach the rulers of the neighboring territories, inviting them to embrace Islam and share in the mercy of God. It should also be remembered that they did not only reject his gracious invitation but also derided him and declared open wars against the Muslims. In his lifetime the Roman and Persian soldiers crossed the Muslim borders in various raids. So by the time of his death the Muslims were involuntarily at war with their neighbors.

That state of affairs continued, and whatever happened later in the following generations has to be seen in the context of those first incidents. This meant at the time that all Christendom, including Spain and France, was at war with the emerging world of Islam. The adventure of the Muslims in Europe has also to be seen in the light of these circumstances. The fact that all Christendom was operating as one power is proven by the unquestionable authority of the Roman papacy over Christians. It is also proven by the general mobilization of Christian powers against Islam during the Crusades of the Middle Ages and even of the first quarter of this twentieth century So, when Rome sanctioned war against Islam, the Muslims could not be denied the full right to fight back on any battleground – whether in Palestine or in the Fertile Crescent, Italy or Hungary. This is what took them to Spain and Southern France. They could not afford to be encircled from all around by the mighty power of Rome and Persia. Nor could they just wait to be wiped out from the face of the earth. Orders were issued from Rome to slay Muhammad and present the Royal Court with his cut head, something which the pagan Romans had done to the early Christian pioneers. However, it must be admitted that some wars of later centuries had no relation to Islam, although they were fought by Muslims. They were not for the spread of Islam. Rather, they were motivated by certain local and, perhaps, personal reasons.

Aggression is aggression, whether it be from or against the Muslims, and the attitude of Islam toward aggression is known and unchangeable. So, if there was aggression in those later wars, it could not be justified by Islam or acceptable to God.

2. None of the said critics tries to understand the nature and circumstances of those early centuries. The media of mass communication did not exist. There was no press or radio or television or even regular mail service. There was no way of public information or preaching except by personal contacts. There was no respect for life or property or honor or treaties of the individuals and of the weak nations. There was no security or freedom of expression. Whoever stood for a noble cause or came out with unpopular beliefs was menaced. This is revealed from the history of Socrates the Greek philosopher, of the Christian pioneers, and of the early Muslims. Many emissaries commissioned to deliver special messages to rulers and governors never came back alive. They were cold-bloodedly murdered or captured by their very hosts.

With all these hardships the Muslims of Arabia had to cope, and under all these circumstances they had to work. They had a message to deliver to mankind, a contribution to make to humanity, and a formula of salvation to offer. The Qur’an says; invite to the Way of God by wisdom and beautiful preaching, and argue in the most gracious manner. But who was there prepared to listen to the peaceful Call of God? It is a fact that many disbelievers used to avoid hearing the Prophet lest they might be affected by his peaceful preaching. They even resisted by force the peaceful Call of Islam. The early experience of Arabia taught the Muslims that it is more effective to be peaceful and at the same time stand on guard; that you can move in peace only when you are strong enough to guard your peace; that your voice of peace would echo better when you are able to resist pressure and eliminate oppression Now they had, by the order of God, to make Islam known to the outside world, but there was no telecommunication system or press or any other mass medium of communication. There was only one course to take, namely, personal and direct contacts, which meant that they had to cross the borders. But they could not do that in small or unarmed groups. So they had to move in large protected groups which must have appeared like an army, but was not an army in the real sense. They crossed the borders in various directions at different times. What took place then deserves consideration. In some areas they were warmly welcomed by the natives, who had long been oppressed and subjugated by the foreign powers of Rome and Persia. In some other areas they were first to offer Islam to those who were prepared to accept it, and there were many. Those who did not embrace Islam were asked to pay tributes equivalent to the Islamic tax (Zakah). The reasons for demanding the kind of tax were (i) that they wanted to be sure this taxpayer knew what he was doing, and that Islam was presented to him but he rejected it with his own free will and choice; (ii) that they undertook to protect the taxpayer and guarantee his security and freedom in a way equal to that of the Muslim himself, because any danger to him was a danger to his Muslim compatriot – and, to defend the Muslim, they had to defend the non-Muslim and insure his security; (iii) that the new state of affairs demanded the support and cooperation of all sectors, Muslims and non-Muslims alike: the former by Zakah, the latter by tributes, which were all spent in the public interest; and (iv) that they wanted to be certain he was not hostile to them and their new brethren, or inclined to make troubles for his Muslim compatriots.

Those who rejected Islam and refused to pay tributes in collaboration with other sectors to support their state made it hard for themselves. They resorted to a hostile course from the beginning, and meant to create trouble, not so much for the new Muslim comers as for the new Muslim converts and their compatriots, the tributepayers. In a national sense, that attitude was treacherous; in a human sense, mean; in a social sense, careless; and in a military sense, pro- vocative. But in a practical sense it needed suppression, not so much for the comfort of the newcomers as for the sake of the state in which these very traitors were living. This is the only time force was applied to bring such people to their senses and make them realize their responsibilities: either as Muslims by accepting Islam freely, or as loyal citizens by being tributepayers, capable of living with their Muslim compatriots and sharing with them equal rights and duties.

3. It may be wise for these critics to study the Qur’an with honest intentions to see what it ordains with regard to war and peace. It may be wiser still for them to investigate the status of the “conquered”people, and the conditions under which they lived before and after their contact with the Muslims. What will they say, if they find out that urgent appeals were made to the Muslims by natives of the Persian and Roman protectorates to come and deliver them from the oppressing foreign rule? What will they think, if they happen to discover that the Muslim “conquerors”were joyfully welcomed by common people as well as by the religious patriarchs, who were longing for Muslim protection and Muslim justice of administration? How would they explain the phenomenon that some of the “conquered”people not only welcomed the “invading”Muslims but also fought on their side against the oppressors? How would they conceive the prosperity, freedom and progress of the “invaded”regions under Islam, in comparison to what had prevailed therein before? We are not ascertaining any particular point of view on the matter or making any hasty conclusions. We simply believe that the question is worth reconsidering and deserves serious investigation. The findings will certainly by interesting and significant. Perhaps a Western mind can understand better, if the whole matter is considered in the light of the prevailing conditions in today’s world. The deep concern of the Western Allies over Berlin, the appeals of the oppressed everywhere, the anxiety of the South Koreans, the fears of the Laotians, the NATO business, the SEATO affairs, the Instability of the Communist Satellites - all that may help the

Western mind to understand the events of those remote centuries and the actual policies of the Muslims of those days.

4. The idea that Muslim wars in the outside world were motivated by economic needs of the Arabs is worth considering too. Although seemingly certain of their own assumptions, the upholders of such an idea have not really studied the case seriously. Do they honestly think that the economic needs were the reasons to urge the Muslims to cross their Arabian borders? On what ground do they assume that Arabia – with its ancient centers of business, valleys and oases–was no longer capable of producing enough for the Muslims? Have they made any serious inquiry as to how much the “invading” Muslims made for themselves, how much they distributed among the people under their rule, and how much they sent back to the Central Administration in Medina or Damascus or Baghdad or Cairo? Have they compared the revenues of the “invaded” territories before and after Islam, and found out whether or not the “invaders” were simply self-interested business adventurers? Have they any reasons to believe that those Muslims took more than what they gave, or drew more than what they had deposited, or made more than what they had invested? Have they come across any evidence to prove if the Central Government in Arabia had at any time received tributes or taxes from its “conquered” protectorates which were needed for the development of these very protectorates, and if so how much was received, and was it worth the adventure in the unknown world? Have they collected any reliable information to show that Arabia was privileged or given preference, in expenditures or development programs over the “invaded” areas? Finally, did Arabia, all of a sudden feel the threat of a “population explosion” which forced the Muslims to carry out adventurous wars and / or economic explorations?

The attempt to interpret the Muslim contacts with non- Muslims in terms of economic needs may sound novel and worthy of sympathy, but it does not seem to have much truth in it or carry much bearing on serious scholarship. The least reservation that can be made as regards this attempt is that it is so far from being satisfactory and complete. There is so much yet to be done in terms of research, investigation, analysis and comparison. Until this is done, no critic has any moral right to pass his own theoretical assumptions as valid or binding. This presents another gracious invitation of Islam to all critics to make more serious attempts to search for the truth.

5. There is not much need to take as serious the opinions of those who consider the Muslim wars in terms of plunder and loot. What can be more casual or more stereotyped than such an opinion? It is a short cut in the field of scholarship and an easy way out of some Intellectual and moral problems, but it is so far from being the truth. The same questions of points 3 and 4 above can be asked again, just to find out how much loot the Muslim adventurers took or sent back to Arabia, and how many of their men returned home with spoils. This is not to mention the flourishing, the renaissance and prosperity of the “looted” territories under these very “looters”. It is not even to mention the harsh persecutions and heavy losses of lives and properties inflicted on Muslims, or the provocation and threats hurled at them. It is simply an appeal to those of such an opinion to make more careful studies of the case and present more responsible conclusions. However, they have to remember that whatever loot collected by the Muslims was very little compared to what they had lost by confiscation, usurpation, persecution and other provocative action inflicted on them from the hostile camps.

Whether or not the critics of these various grades accept the point of view of this survey, the fact remains that Islam is the religion of peace in the fullest sense of the term; that unjust war was never among its teachings; that aggression was never in its tenets or tolerated by it; that force was never employed to impose it on anyone; that the expansion of Islam was never due to compulsion or oppression; that misappropriation was never forgivable by God or acceptable to Islam; and that whoever distorts or misrepresents the Islamic teachings will do more harm to his own self and his associates than to Islam. Because it is the religion of God and the straight path to Him, it survived under the most difficult conditions, and it will survive to be the safe bridge to happy eternity. Should these critics have any doubt about this fact, they would be wise to study Islam, re-read the Qur’an, and refresh their memory of history.

The fact that economic prosperity and cultural renaissance followed the spread of Islam into the “conquered” regions does not necessarily mean that the Muslims were after economic gains and military spoils. Even if such alleged gain and spoils became incentives in later periods of Islamic history, it still does not follow that Islam prefers war to peace and the Muslims relish war spoils. There are better explanations. One of these should be very clear to those who are familiar with the classical discussion of The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism where Protestantism, along with other factors, led to the rise of modern capitalism. No serious mind would contend that the Protestants developed their ethic to become economically prosperous or that modern capitalism still depends on the Protestant Ethic.

6. Finally, the word “Jihad” when associated with the word “Terrorism” become an abused term; the common meaning of Jihad is the action of a Muslim to defend his Muslim country when attacked, but it will never be a Jihad if you break the Muslims rules of engagement. It is a fact that Islam is both a faith and a set of rules of conduct, even in times of war Muslims are not allowed to kill anybody except the one who is engaged in face to face confrontation with them. The Muslims rules of engagement insist that children, women, the infirm, the aged, the men of religion and all those who are not engaged directly in battle should not be harmed. Moreover, Muslims in times of war are not allowed to destroy buildings housing innocent people or to destroy lands or to cut trees or to poison wells or to endanger the environment. Also Islam forbids haphazard killing where innocent people are killed along with wrongdoers.

At the same time the wide meaning of the word Jihad is ‘striving to do good’. So if you educate your family correctly your action is a Jihad, if you do your job properly your action is a Jihad, if you control your anger continuously your action is a Jihad, and the greatest Jihad is to restrain your soul from impure evil lower desires and lusts.

It should be stated that Islam, the religion of tolerance and forgiveness, holds the human soul in high esteem, and considers the killing of innocent human beings a grave sin and a terrible crime; This is backed by the Qur’anic verse which reads: “… that if any one slew a person – unless it be for murder or for spreading mischief in the land – it would be as if he slew the whole people, and if any one saved a life, it would be as if he saved the life of the whole people… “(Qur’an 5: 32).

The Prophet is reported to have stated that: ‘a woman would go to Hell because she locked up a cat that died as a result’; If such is the ruling on protecting animals, no doubt aggression against human beings deserves greater prohibition, for human beings are honored by God.

Also Islam teaches justice: “O you who believe, stand out firmly for God as witnesses to fair dealing; and let not the hatred of others to you make you swerve to wrong and depart from justice. Be just; that is next to piety, and fear God.”(Qur’an 5:8) The Prophet said God had revealed to him: “O my servants, I have prohibited myself from doing anything unjust and have forbidden you from doing anything unjust as well. So don’t do anything unjust”.

Muslims who are aware of the teachings of Islam, the directives of the Holy Qur’an and the teachings of the Prophet will never involve themselves in any kind of terrorist acts of aggression against innocent civilians. Such acts are considered an injustice to innocent people who are terrorized without any reasons.

If any terrorist attacks were carried out against innocent civilians then Islam reject the act and incriminate the perpetrator, and the aggressor deserves the punishment irrespective of religion, race or gender. It is unfair to hold a whole nation accountable for a crime carried out by a limited number of fanatic extremists, or to characterize a certain religion as a faith giving support to violence and terrorism.

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phantasmagoricreverie · 5 years

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Hello! May I request a small saniwa, who can unexpectedly fight? Nikkari, Tsurumaru, Ookurikara, and Ichigo reactions, please! Stay in good health!

Ahh, asmall saniwa that can fight, how lovely! I hope you stay in good health aswell!

Nikkari Aoe

Hedoesn’t really expect you to be able to fight; you’re the general that leadsthe army, the one that gives the orders

It’s notnecessary for you to fight, especially since you can just manifest tsukumogamias soldiers in the war you fight

So itcomes as a bit of a surprise when you insist on joining the frontlines; youassure your swords that you know what you’re doing and won’t be a hindrance

The swordsare naturally reluctant because things can change in an instant, it’s just toodangerous; no one wants to lose you

So youcompromise and say that if you defeat, or at least match the strength of, oneof the swords going to sortie, then that should prove that you’re able tohandle yourself

The swordsagree and Nikkari offers to be your “plaything” with that unfathomable smile ofhis

You takethe battle outside and end up being so fired up, you forget to hold back a bitand consequently end up injuring the wakizashi

Itbecomes evident that you’re extraordinarily strong, if his injuries areanything to go by

You’re apologeticand uttering about how you should have held back, but Nikkari just laughs itoff and says he’s glad you fought seriously and that injury is expected

All theother swords are stunned by your display of strength finesse, especially sinceyou never seemed to be the type to fight, and to fight so well at that

But becauseNikkari is injured you have to find a replacement for the team going on sortie andyou handle that rather quickly

Ultimatelyyou decide to stay behind to tend to the injuries you caused yourself (to the reliefof all the swords)

As youtend to his wounds he warns you that the battlefield is dangerous, no matter howskilled you are, and that he’s glad you didn’t go

You canonly gently chastise him, saying that as the leader that you should see it atleast once, otherwise how can you better understand the swords or what’snecessary of you?

Nikkari onlylaughs in a mysterious way, wondering how he came to have such a capable andconsiderate master

Tsurumaru Kuninaga

It’s asurprise for him when he learns you’re able to fight

Not reallythough, as he’s one of the more observant swords he’s able to notice that you’vehad some kind of training for combat

It’s inthe little mannerisms you have, from the way you’re able to respond almostinstantaneously to catch a tantou that’s tripped or the way you manage to evadenearly all of Tsurumaru’s surprises

Though ofcourse, he’s naturally curious if he’s correct and the extent of your abilities

And intrue Tsurumaru fashion, finds out a way he can do so while also (hopefully)surprising you

So withthat in mind he decides to approach you from behind, though he’s not able toexecute his plan very far

You endup throwing him across the room after delivering a solid strike to the solarplexus and he hits the opposite wall with a small oof

Despitethe fact that he anticipated you striking back, he’s the one surprised, consideringyour response time and the fact you thoroughly aimed to disengage yourself froma dangerous situation, even though you’re in the citadel where you’d leastexpect to find an enemy

He’s abit winded but he gives you a thumbs up from across the room and makes a ruckusabout how surprised he is that you threw him across the room

It’s thenyou realize that you tossed one of your swords across the room, but you aren’t surprisedthat it’s Tsurumaru

He thinksthat maybe you aren’t a master who will die so easily since you’re able toreact so quickly to protect yourself and is assured that you’re a master thatcan defend yourself

Heintends to keep his distance as he always has and letting the other swords lookafter you despite all this though and keeps such thoughts a secret

It isn’tas if it had been a proper fight, but Tsurumaru bounds up to you saying howimpressive you are and says that you should have mentioned you could fightsooner

He also half-jokinglysuggests that perhaps next time, you can join him on the battlefield andsurprise all the other swords

Ookurikara

Doesn’treally think much about how small you are; he doesn’t plan on getting alongwith you regardless of how you are, so it doesn’t matter to him

He findsout about how you can fight when you find yourself a bit frustrated with hisbehavior, with his constant insistence of doing everything alone (even if youunderstand why he is the way he is)

Youchallenge him to fight you one on one with the intention of making him acknowledgeyou, because at the very least, you don’t want to be ignored or pushed aside whenyou address him

He scoffsand figures that if he beats you, you’ll leave him alone so he agrees (and hedoesn’t want to deal with you continuing to insist if he refused)

Hefigures that with such a small and presumably weak master such as yourself it’dbe an easy win anyway

Each ofyou takes one of the wooden practice swords and spar with each other

It’s afairly heated match and you manage to come out victorious one way or another

Hedoesn’t really show it but he’s surprised when you take a proper stance, andeven more so when you wield the sword with a finesse he hadn’t expected

He’s abit surprised since he wasn’t expecting to be defeated by you and unconsciouslyfinds himself comparing you to the tantou (it’s because you’re so small)

Ookurikarais definitely forced to rethink his assessment of you being weak; his image ofyou has improved and he ends up conceding that he’ll at least acknowledge youwhen you approach

You havethe read between the lines to really see it, but he acknowledges your skillwith the sword, even if he only faced you in a practice match and he sees youas strong and capable

He’s trueto his word and every time you approach, he acknowledges your presence even ifhe only glares or gives a noncommittal noise

If youever bring up wanting to help at the frontlines or something similarly risky,Ookurikara will tell you that you’re capable, but that you should leave thefighting to the swords, but of course in his own Ookurikara way

Ichigo Hitofuri

Honestlyis probably a bit worried initially; you’re just so small and he sees you asdelicate because of that

Then hereminds himself a lot of his brothers are small and even seem delicate, but aremore than capable of taking care of themselves

But thenagain, just because you’re small like his brothers doesn’t mean you are stronglike them as well

He’sstuck between thinking of you as being capable of defending yourself even if itdoesn’t seem like it, or maybe you really are as delicate as you appear

Ultimatelyhe forces himself not to stick to any one assumption; maybe you just appeardelicate and you’re capable of protecting yourself, but perhaps not…

Still hecan’t shake off his concerns and his uncertainly pushes him to make a suggestionthat you should learn some defensive moves from the swords

Ichigo’soffer comes across as him being concerned for your safety and well-being, whichdoesn’t strike you as being odd since he seems to be considerate of everyone

You tryto appease his worries by assuring him that you’ve already learned to disarm apursuer and that you know to incapacitate them so you can flee

Though youalso bring up that while that might be effective for your original time, thatit may not be so pragmatic in an actual battle, which results in you asking himto teach you

You decideto start your little impromptu session with him by demonstrating what you knowfirst, so that way he knows what you’re capable of

Thus,Ichigo pretends to be an attacker (though, of course, he’s more far more gentleand considerate than an actual attacker would be) and he’s satisfied to knowthat you should be able to get away from a human, but you’re not against normalpeople, not in the same way you’re used to encountering

And heinsists that you learn to defend yourself beyond just getting away and youagree, though he’s a bit surprised to see you can hold your own in a fightunarmed

You actuallymanage to unarm him and subdue him without expending a great deal of effort

You sheepishlyadmit that you do have experience in a number of…confrontations, but that youdon’t know how to fight armed

And so youtry to convince Ichigo to teach you to fight with a sword, though it doesn’t takemuch since he’s the one that started this in the first place

#nikkari aoe #tsurumaru kuninaga #ookurikara #ichigo hitofuri #touken ranbu #touken ranbu x reader #long post #reader insert #i'm not super satisfied w/ this... esp ichigo's but i spent so long on this already bluuh #and despite my initial ideas... none of these happened on an actual battlefield #in any case; thanks for requesting! if you want smth else just lmk!!

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samrudhiyerpude · 5 years

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The Marriage Master

Although it may seem like rather a basic function to exercise, it is often difficult to simply verbally communicate with each other within the marriage perimeter. Most people find that instead of effective communication, they tend to bicker and this of course is not healthy for the communication exercise neither is it good for the marriage. Get all the info you need here.

The Marriage Master Your Guide To Amazing Communication

1. Communication Basics

Learning how to communicate effectively and without any negative connotations or emotions will help to create an ideal platform for both parties to be comfortable in. the following are some effective ways to adopt or in some cases avoid in order to be able to establish some form of effective communication within the relationship:

The Basics

Avoid using the cold shoulder or silent treatment tool. This almost always never works and certainly does not help the situation at all.

There is definitely a need to speak at some point during this situation as most people would attest to the fact that they are sincerely unsure as to why there is a negative situation in the first place.

Therefore by actually taking the trouble to communicate clearly and effectively, both parties will be privy to the actual cause of the current ugly situation and then will be able to move forward in a productive and positive manner.

Learning how to communicate with respect for each other is another very important element to include in the communicating exercise. Making unpleasant and degrading remarks will only contribute negatively to an already unpleasant situation.

Therefore in trying to get the concerns across and understood, there should be some level of dignity and respect present in the choice of words used.

Trying to hurt the other party as much as possible may seem satisfactory for the movement but it is rarely a good long term solution and might even damage the relationship beyond repair.

2. Take Time To Communicate In Person

Due to the busy lifestyle of most people it has become a rather normal practice to communicate within the marriage relationship by means other than actual verbal communication. This is a very dangerous habit to form as eventually both parties will take the time or make the effort to verbally communicate at all, and this certainly spells disaster.

Face To Face

The following are some tips on how to go about ensuring that verbal communication is a vital part of the exchange within the confines of a healthy and happy marriage:

Setting aside a specific amount to time to focus on verbal communication is sometime very necessary for the couple to be able to maintain some level of intimacy through the communication exercise.

This time allotted gives both parties an opportunity to speak their minds and heart and make each other be understood in a non threatening manner.

Doing so an atmosphere that is both welcoming and comfortable without any distractions would be worth exploring as it will help to keep both parties focused on each other and on what is being said.

Preparing oneself to be able to communicate in a non combative manner is also important. Taking the trouble and effort to be loving and nurturing when communicating will encourage both parties to be more receptive to what is being discussed.

Using endearing terms and a lot of encouragement will also help to facilitate a better exchange. Maintaining the friendly and loving verbal exchange will allow for more things to be accomplished.

Listening is also part of being totally immersed in the verbal form of communication.

Without the ability to listen, both parties will not be able to understand the communication session and neither will any positive outcome be achieved. The ability to simply listen, will clearly show respect for the other party.

3.Tune In To Body Language

It is sometime necessary to be able to read into the body language of the other party to better understand what is going on and how to best deal with any surfacing situation. Learning how to read the various body language signs will also allow each party to better understand and interpret the partner’s wants and needs and work accordingly to accommodate them as far as possible.

Understand

The following are some popular body language signs that can be used to tip off the other party as to the current mindset and general disposition of each other:

Eyes clamped shut, stiffness in the neck and shoulders generally depict an individual who is either upset or not really happy with something.

These signals can be used to effectively help to defuse any situation before it goes out of hand and to also help to divert the person��s attention to something that is more pleasurable and less upsetting.

This often takes the individual experiencing negativity away from the offending situation and thus encouraging a better frame of mind.

It should be noted that not all body language signals are negative. When an individual is in a sexy mood there are also some subtle and not so subtle body language moves that will allow the other party to respond accordingly should they wish to.

This is important to learn as it will help bring the couple closer when such displays of body language attempts are well read and acted upon. In most cases when the response is favorable, the party using the body language skills to communicate will be so encouraged and happy, that they would in all likelihood make it worthwhile and pleasurable for the responding party. This of course will heighten the communication mode to a more deeper and fulfilling experience.

4.Learn To Be A Good Listener

Learning to be a good listener certainly has its advantages and more often than not it allows the individual to seem like a very caring and considerate person. This is definitely worth learning how to achieve as most people appreciate a good listener over a good talker.

Really Hear

Understanding that listening is anything but a passive activity is a good place to start. Neither is listening expected to be an activity that is neutral and nothing else.

In fact good listeners are able to come up with good workable solutions as they are able to understand and follow the various contributing factors to any particular situation being discussed.

Developing the skill of being able to listen carefully also allows the individual to “hear” things that are not really being verbalized and yet important enough to need attention.

Sometimes these unspoken bits of information can be more informative than what is actually being said through the conversation, and when these bits of information allow the listen to act in a manner that is both soothing and helpful to the speaker, a huge amount of positive effects can be experienced.

Good listeners are usually people who are able to eventually become wise people. Listening takes a certain level of restraint and thus allows the person to mull over the matter being verbalized before making any judgment calls or giving any response.

By simply listening, the person is actually allowing the other party to vent everything and anything until fully satisfied.

After this happens the person will then be more receptive to any advice or comments made, thus allowing for some type of solution to be made. Two people taking and trying to get the thoughts and views across will not in any way help an already delicate situation.

5. Be Clear About What You Say

Sometime the wrong words are used or perhaps the wrong tone and this can create a situation that would otherwise not been forthcoming. Therefore in the quest to be clear and understood, the onus in on the individual to be as precise as possible with what is being verbalized.

Watch It

Sometimes it is necessary to be assertive in both manner and choice of words in order for the individual to be taken seriously. Without being loud or rude, it is possible to ensure whatever is being verbalized is to be taken seriously and not to be disregarded as unimportant or frivolous.

Being clear in stating one’s needs and wants is also something that should be encourage within a healthy relationship, as this will give both parties the opportunity to learn and respect the other’s way of thinking and perception of things.

Avoid getting into the habit of depending on people reading between the lines or anticipating one’s needs. This will most likely lead to a huge amount of disappointment and eventual annoyance when things don’t go accordingly.

Learning not to apologize for certain feelings and thoughts is also something that should be encouraged as those who consistently back down will eventually not be taken seriously at all.

However when trying to communicate, it would be advisable to keep all emotions in check and also to speak clearly and firmly without unnecessary heights of volume included.

Respect is something that is very important to acquire when being clear about what is required as those who are unable to win the respect of others will not be taken seriously at all.

Sometimes it is necessary to repeat the request in order to ensure the items verbalized is properly understood and complied with. This will allow the other party to understand the importance of the matter verbalized and respect its boundaries.

6.Using A Touch While Talking

Most humans need to be touched especially within the perimeters of a healthy and happy relationship. Without the important touching factor constantly being exercised, both parties will eventually feel the missing ingredient and this could lead to some detrimental results.

Touch

Touching and being touched is something every healthy relationship should experience daily and as frequently as possible. The need for touch is very primal and basic, and stroking this desire will leave both parties feeling cherished and fulfilled.

It should be understood that not all touching should ideally lead to some form of sexual activity, as this is not only pressurizing but also quite unnecessary.

The act of touching should primarily be exercised as way to convey love, intimacy, comfort, happiness and any other positive connotations which are healthy for relationships.

A loving physical gesture can go along way and some say further than the spoken word. A lot of people respond well to the physical touch as long as there is no sexual connotation to it, unless the touch was specifically meant to be so.

Most people are simply unaware of the huge effects a simple touch can convey, thus often making the serious mistake of not incorporating the touch action into the everyday lives within a relationship.

Most marriages on the verge of collapse will usually concur on the fact that there was almost relatively no touching within the relationship, unless sex was the agenda.

This is rather a sad scenario, to live with, as touching does say a lot about the feelings of love and closeness of the couple within the relationship.

Even when having a simple conversation with the other party, some touching could be initiated to help the person relax and be more receptive to what is being said.

7. The Importance Committing To Good Communication

In order to have a strong and healthy marriage most people would have to put in the appropriate amount of effort into the building process. This building process is usually an ongoing effort that should not be taken for granted at any given time.

It’s Important

Committing to good communication will also allow the couple to resolve issues before they become out of control problems.

Good communication skill will allow both parties to put forth their individual views without resorting to under handed measures such as insults and other negative verbal expressions.

Being able to fine tune the art of mutually beneficial conversation will certainly help prepare the couple for times when confrontations surface, as the previous ability to converse well, will help to keep both of them focused on resolving the matter in the most amicable way.

Committing to good communication will also help both parties to explore and find suitable solutions as quickly as possible rather than lingering on the problem.

In doing so the problem can be contained and there is less chances of it escalating and taking over the lives of both parties.

Wrapping Up

There are several different reasons as to the importance of committing to having a good and sound communication platform within a marriage.

This is sometimes the only means of keeping the marriage alive and well, especially if one party is unable for age or medical reasons to indulge in any sexual activity.

Being able to have a good conversation with each other is very refreshing and enlightening.

This is even more important as the marriage advances in years and there are no distractions such as children and jobs to occupy their time. In such instances being able to communicate will and on an exciting level will help to keep the marriage in good shape.

#love #life #relationships #time #jesus #marriage #married #marriedlife #successfulmarriage #newlife #romantic #marriageguide #god #india #relationship goals #relationship guidance #relationshipgrowth #relationship

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inanawesomewave · 5 years

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FIVE MINUTES INTO SHERLOCK AND CHILL AND THE EMPATH GIVES YOU THIS LOOK

I write a lot on this post about self diagnosis, the aspirational notion of sociopathy, sociopathy as wish-fulfilment, and the danger and offence that comes with throwing the term around and applying it to you or anyone else based off some deeper darkness you feel you or someone else has. But things are serious. I want to go into depth, so we really know where we are. It feels ASPD is one of those things that people need, and people hate. But I want to remind you, it’s still a mental illness, and it still comes with pitfalls. We’re not just spending all day languishing in our own seductive power, or having perfect control over every aspect of our lives. We’re not working on Wall Street, devastatingly attractive, hitting every target and charming everyone we meet from the word go. I talk a lot on this blog about the real pain of it, and I hope that this is a place people come for real discussions about the disorder. In that spirit, it’s time for another rundown on what ASPD is and what it is not, and the easiest way to do that is to rely on the criteria in the DSM-V, the diagnostic guidelines that clinicians in the Western world have to follow for this diagnosis to be made. Because that’s how it works, there’s a list of things and if you do the things then you have the thing. If you don’t do the things then you don’t have the things. It’s not as easy as watching Sherlock and admiring Benedict Cumberbatch’s performance, or identifying with other villains in fiction -- they are written for you to empathise with them. The best villain is created with just enough humanity that you want to feel for them, see the good in them, and the purpose of this in good fiction is to make you question yourself, your motivations and your limits. Emily Bronte wrote Heathcliff in such a way that whilst he is motivated by only vengeance, obsession and hate, you want to like him, and you want to rescue him. Feeling that way does not make you a sociopath. It makes you a human being who is responding to art in the way the art hoped you would. So let’s run through. 1. failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest. So this one basically means, you’re committing crimes, disrespecting authority in an outward manner, refusing to accept any kind of dominant law or force, and violating legal boundaries in however way you see fit. It’s not something you switch on and off, nor is it something exclusively motivated by personal gain. It doesn’t mean “I once stole a lipstick from a shop”, it is a pervasive, repeated pattern of behaviour that doesn’t ease off when the motivation disappears. It’s not the same as thinking it. Just because you think that in a certain situation you’d behave psychopathically, it doesn’t mean you are. If your sociopathy or psychopathy depends on a special set of circumstances to function, then it doesn’t exist. 2. deceitfulness, as indicated by repeated lying, use of aliases, or conning others for personal profit or pleasure So again, this doesn’t mean isolated incidents. It’s not about sometimes talking someone round to something. Psychopaths tend to lie and con, and anecdotally I’ve found that sociopaths do one or the other in excess, mine was always conning. What this meant for me was the conning was the game, and the success of the conning was the goal. If you are only doing this every so often and it has a clear motivation other than just doing it for the sake of it, you are not a sociopath.

3. impulsivity or failure to plan ahead This is quite a universal symptom that can apply to a lot of mental illnesses, so fair enough. There’s many reasons why someone would have no motivation to plan ahead. And the impulsivity we’re talking about here, again, is pervasive. It’s not the impulse to do something slightly out of the ordinary for a change, and whilst addictive behaviours are often comorbid with ASPD, this criterion means that your impulses are ongoing, hard to control, and are causing problems in your life. Impulses may be violent or disruptive, they may come from anger, they might be harmful. The impulse to spend an extra £20 on clothes isn’t a personality disorder. It’s treating yourself, and it’s nice to treat yourself.

4. irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults If you don’t understand rage, you don’t understand ASPD. I’ve written a lot on here (and, disclaimer, I’m not fitting the entire description of ASPD on my own personal experiences exclusively, I’m going off research, speaking with other sociopaths, case studies, etc.). It’s not a very well controlled rage. It’s not sensible. It’s not considerate. It’s not clever. So a recent article I read said that sociopaths and psychopaths live with two different kinds of rage: there’s baseline rage, and then rage that has been provoked. This means that naturally, if a situation arises where conflict could exist, we will take it. But it also means, we’re angry as shit all the time anyway. It’s pathetic, I know that, but it’s there. We’re just angry. It’s exhausting. It’s physically tiring, and we would stop it if we could. You can walk away from it, that’s fine. You don’t have to understand it. But this is, for me at least, the cornerstone of ASPD. It’s simmering, endless, impotent rage that stems from a deep held belief that conflict is everywhere, that conflict is safer than no conflict, and that we have to come out on top at all times. No sociopath is sitting there thinking, “I’m sure it’ll work out for the best”, or “I wonder what a morally good person would do?”. We are (see above) impulsive, quick to react, easily provoked, and lacking in empathy. Rage is real. It’s constant, and sharp.

5. reckless disregard for safety of self or others Getting drunk every so often or taking a bunch of cocaine is called enjoying yourself. Inviting dangerous people into your home and involving other people in a dangerous lifestyle because you have no will to help or protect them because you don’t care about yourself and you also have no empathy is ASPD.

6. consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behavior or honor financial obligations We can’t keep jobs. We wish we could. We’re impatient jerks who don’t know what a good thing is, because we’re cynical. Don’t go to work because you’re anxious? See a doctor about your anxiety. Don’t go to work because you have no respect for your boss and the mere fact they told you to answer to them has spiked that rage again? Maybe you have ASPD.

7. lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another. I’m not going to labour on this one too much but for Christ’s sake, everyone says and does hurtful things from time to time and when we do those things, it makes sense to rationalise it, because that’s a human way to protect yourself, it’s normal. Going out of your way to cause harm, to push people away from you, to watch someone hurt, and to feel extremely justified in that with no room for, “but what if...?” is ASPD. If someone’s pissed you off but you know that arguing with them would make them feel worse, you don’t have ASPD. I’m writing this because I cannot fucking hear it any more. I go to therapy. I am exhausted by myself. Anger has worn me down, I look tired, I have a suspected overactive adrenal gland that my therapist agrees is what happens when you spend your whole life on edge. It’s isolating, we get lonely, we don’t know how to have normal relationships, we’re unable to show the ones we care about that we care, then we trick ourselves into not caring. We make ourselves lonely, we’re in pain. And that’s not to say that if you don’t have ASPD you’re not in pain, but remember what a personality disorder is - it’s something that gets in the way of you living your life. If you’ve not received a diagnosis, and you’ve not done anything where a diagnosis had to be made, and you’re not getting arrested, or pushing everyone you love away, then don’t worry. You’re not living with ASPD. And you know this pro-self dx, “well not everyone has access to a psychiatrist” argument? Well I don’t have access to an oncologist, and that’s because i’ve never needed one. That doesn’t mean I can diagnose myself with cancer, it means the lack of an oncologist in my life is a pretty big clue that I do not have cancer. It’s still a mental illness, and you’re still appropriating someone else’s struggle. You can’t have bipolar disorder without mood swings, and you can’t have agoraphobia if you’ve never had a panic attack, and you wouldn’t try to shoehorn yourself into these diagnoses because they’re not cool or sexy. If you’re trying to redefine sociopathy so specifically you fit into it, worse -- if you’re trying to tell diagnosed sociopaths how they should be experiencing their sociopathy based on your wishful thinking, ask yourself if you would sit down with a schizophrenic and tell them that, despite having never hallucinated or experienced a delusion, you’re really just like them.

#aspd #actually antisocial #antisocial personality disorder #sociopathy #self diagnosis #self dx #psychopathy #diagnosis #psychiatry #the dsm

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xxkellsvixen19xx · 5 years

Note

You are Michael's partner/one & only/second-in-charge. You & Outpost Michael have gotten into an argument regarding the selections & you've had enough of him having the last word. While he's away from your chamber, you pack up & secretly leave the bunker towards the next Outpost without a word of where you're going. Michael immediately senses your absence and ... how will he react to this? 🤔

Breach Michael x Reader

Word Count 1,895

A/N: absolutely loved this concept enjoyed working with it!

Requested by @master-langdon

It was a cold grey day in late November. The weather had changed overnight, when a backing wind brought a granite sky and the nuclear winter with it. It has officially been eighteen months since the bombs fell beginning the apocalypse.

Y/N stepped out of the carriage that had pulled up outside of Outpost 3. Looking around it could best be described as a scene out of a low budget horror movie, there was rarely much left that would pass as suitable much less look like an even remote possibility of surviving. To you it looked like ground zero and to be completely honest it left you with a rather superstitious feeling, hell it actual creeped you out.

Y/N and Michael arrived at outpost 3 it was the fourth one they have visited that actually had even.an inkling of any survivors. The first three outposts they has been either abandoned, destroyed or in the case of the output they visited in Syracuse New York the survivors had been massacred.

Y/N stood inside the main commons area a little later on. Michael glided across the floor im stealth like movement. The nervous faces of the survivors watched in anticipation

Michael spoke up piercing the dead silence that had fallen across the room. “My name is Langdon and I represent the Cooperative, I won't sugar coat the situation humanity is on the brink. My arrival here is critical to the future of your survival.”

When leadership from the Cooperative arrive it was a moment that caught everyone by surprise. Michael is Venable's superior within the Cooperative, she was unaware that a representative had any intentions of course unexpectedly, Michael stood in front of the fire in the commons area. He says the other outposts had been overrun — by what, he didn't specify — and that Outpost 3 is the only surviving beacon besides another mysterious "facility" that he now wants to whisk some of the survivors to.

The questions started firing out one after the other, where was this 'sanctuary. Was there enough food supplies tp last, ect.. ect. Michael turned his head cocking it to the side, he looked stoic showing no sign of commotion. “Classified!” He responded sharply. A few more questions were asked, each receiving that same answer.. “It should take a few days at the most to conduct my interviews and can inform everyone of the results shortly after.

Michael and Y/N had been involved in a relationship for years on both a professional level as well as personal. You served as a second in command to Michael as your role in the Cooperative. They both held in their possession ID cards that contain their signatures. Michael's saying"President" and yours "Chancellor" of the Cooperative, as well as having ID numbers, ranking numbers, and other coding. Your role being that it is second in command means that in the event that Michael that was unable to or not present to carry out the work of the Cooperative then you would act in his place.

There were times that you both equally worked together, but when Y/N and Michael started to pay visits to the outposts to conduct the interviews you noticed that Michael was adamant about doing these interviews himself. You tried on multiple occasions to offer your help because honestly you felt like why should one person be bogged down with all that work it's stressful. Michael often spent late hours either conducting interviews or he was going over files or emails in his laptop.

It wasn't uncommon for you to loiter around the passageways or close to his office door to hear that was discussed between him and the survivor being questioned at that time. Y/N paid attention and absorbed info that she retained to be able to formulate your own observation/opinion as well. Normally you two were able to talk to each other when it came to any matters pertaining to the Cooperative. Y/N and Michael had that dynamic where they could talk to one another, discuss options, offer insight and work together for results. You couldn't understand why Michael seemed to be keeping you 'in the dark’ when it came to the interviews and the information revolving around it. At first you didn't confront him about anything. You stayed pretty closed lipped, knowing that given time you would bring it up. Timing was everything when it came to approaching Michael with something Y/N know was viewed as controversial and or possibly sensitive.

Y/N at various points of time had the opportunity to gain enough info on each of the survivors of Outpost 3. You weren't certain who Michael in his opinion deemed as worthy to join you both at the sanctuary. Ultimately when it came to making choices you were known to think practically and logically. You took into consideration with each person their strengths, weaknesses, the positive and the negative.

Y/N approached Michael carefully, you happen to catch him in a halfway decent mood so you hoped that maybe that since you were discussing this that maybe it would be done so in a civilized manner. “I take it the interview process must be completed.” You observed. “Just about, got a few more to take place tomorrow evening. I may some in mind though but waiting to see after I complete the final ones though.” He responded not looking up from his laptop. You had paid careful attention to who he had already interviewed, you knew exactly when and who as most of the interviews took place when everyone was gathered in the commons area. You would watch as Mrs. Mead approached each party saying “Mr. Langdon wishes to speak with you.” The only two people left yet to be interviewed was Mallory (the grey) and Andre Dinah Stevens son.

You were vaguely curious as to who Michael had in mind or thought to be worthy. “Oh really… who are the possible viable candidates if you don't mind me asking.” You asked carefully silently hoping that he would answer. Michael paused momentarily to briefly look up at you, “Mrs St Pierre Vanderbilt and Gallant.” Your jaw dropped slightly and your eyes held a shocked expression. You just as quickly regained your composer praying that Michael hadn't witnessed your initial reaction of absolute shock. “I have been paying attention to the inhabitants here, just from witnessing actions, overhearing conversations ect it seems to me that Mr Campbell and Emily seem to be viable.” Out of those you have had the opportunity to observe as well as overhear conversations about that those two seemed pretty decent. They seemed level headed and out of those that were currently residing there they had the most common sense.

Michael let out an amused chuckle “When we begin our journey through the new world I would rather have people with experience. Not deal with two fairly wet behind the ear young adults.” You felt your anger rise, normally you and Michael could talk to each other, or at least discuss things maturely. You took a deep breath before you spoke again…”Michael..you might want to consider this. Others may have not acted with the best of intentions—and that you might not know the whole story.” Michael's eyes flushed red, he was definitely angry. Despite the fact that you appreciated this as tactfully as possible it was clear you still somehow managed to strike a nerve with you. There was clearly some difference of opinion, which is heartening, you did your best to hide your emotions from Michael.

You made a final attempt to try and discuss this with him. “I understand it can be a slight oversight..” Pausing for a moment you tried to approach this professionally. “Maybe you haven’t finished thinking this through, the whole selection process a surprise to you, or you want to get a clearer sense of what is going on,” Michael's eyes held yours in a stare that read quite defensive, “I know what I am doing Y/N just drop it!” You could see that your difference of opinion is based partly on the differing understandings of the purpose of the purpose at hand. You didn't say anything more, it seemed clear that Michael wasn't open minded enough to listen to your point of view on this.

The next day while Michael conducted the final two interviews you remained back in the suite packing your things. Michael seemed determined to handle the selection process in his own way here, you took it upon yourself to leave before him to the next outpost. You wanted to handle things professionally and fairly, Michael however seemed to make it personal. Later on that night Michael returned back to the suite, it had been a long day. He didn't completely notice it at first, at one point he caught sight of a dresser drawer that was open ajar. Michael immediately got the sense that something was off, he opened the drawer all the way it was completely empty. Michael looked through the rest of the drawers and your side of the armoire..bare empty everything of yours no longer there. You were gone. Michael had never been so confused in his whole entire life. He didn't understand, why, why had he allowed this to get to this point?

Michael needed to see Y/N again, to speak to her but he was faced with a simple conundrum: what should I do next? Email her? Would the Cooperative or anyone know of your where abouts? Michael could only blame himself, he had let a personal vendetta get in the way of not only a professional relationship but his feelings for Y/N.

Michael POV…

‘My beloved Y/N, you are the greatest thing in my life and it breaks my heart to see that I have hurt you. I hate knowing that I have upset you. The last thing I want to do is hurt your feelings and make you feel insuperior. To make you think that your opinions hold no value. You mean the world to me. You deserve so much better than this and I promise I will make this right, Please Y/N forgive me and I hope that I can prove that I mean it when I say that I am sorry.’

An encrypted email came through from Jeff Pfister, Y/N had left heading to outpost 8 in Phoenix Arizona. Michael wasted no time on packing up his things and heading that way. He was going to make this right with you no matter what it took, you were far to important to him professionally and personally to let it end this way.

Neither Michael nor Y/N depend on the other for their feelings of self worth- they know in their heart that they are just as valuable to the world as the other. Good looking, optimistic, and they spark a light in the world that people recognize that goes beyond a normal relationship.

They are the perfect power couple...one of them is flawed, the other makes up for their weaknesses in their strength. Together they are the epitome of what anyone would desire in a relationship. They encourage goodness in the world and make it a better place by being together.

#ahs #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #cody fern #fan fiction

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gg-astrology · 6 years

Note

hi!! i love your interpretations of sun-moon combos so i was wondering what you thought of sagittarius sun and leo moon together, if u have the time to answer? thank you, and i hope that you're having a great day!!

Hey there! 💕💕 Aaaaah thank u!! 💕💕 I’ll do my best! 💕

[Below Cut: Sagittarius Sun - Leo Moon 🌤]

These people are much more sensitive than you realize they are

Because of their sun/moon they can be prone to moodiness, sometimes sulking and you have to figure out what it is you did (they’ll tell you eventually if you don’t have any clues, but they want you to have more awareness of them, or like, self-awareness of yourself and what you’re paying attention to sometimes-- concerned)

They’re babies-- most of the time they’re significantly moodier when it comes to you not recognizing their skills or realizing something they did (got ignored)

Although it can be accidental, if it means a lot to them they can’t help but get a little disheartened by it (they know they know, just--- let them get it out of their system)

These people however, outside of their initial lil sulking session-- are honorable and rather tolerant individually

They’re the kind of people who has-- intuitive knowledge of humanity, with Sagittarius being philosophical and Leo being personal/material-- it’s a good combination for someone who can easily accept and understand ‘human flaws’ in other people, and teach them how to accept them as well (self-acceptance)

Like, if you feel bad about making a mistake that was out of your control. They’re the type to look at you straight in the eye, shrug and says ‘it’s ok, it’s normal. People do this all the time, we can get past it.’

Straight forward and somewhat blunt, people are touched by their personable and often friendly approach to others.

However, they themselves seems kind of unaware of this point of view towards them. Their natural popularity is always in the background to their own vision, their own goals and views on things.

Thus, in a way they’re humble because they’re oblivious kjnfkjdn

It’s not a bad thing, they tend to get a little shier and more overwhelmed if the realize people are admiring them for something other than their brains. Flustering and although they are happy about it, they may feel that it ‘distracts’ them from the bigger parts of life (they are a Sagittarius after all)

These people are rather innocent no matter how old they get, they retain a sense of honor to them-- strong integrity that comes from experience (contemplation and sometimes mistakes) that they carry with them

(It strengthen them somewhat, they are not soft people by any means. They’re just very humane and caring for others-- as we all should be so take note)

Although they’re the type to look at the positive things (when others are leaning negative, because they like being contradictory like that) they aren’t idiots. They work out the formal, do the hard work/pull and use their natural sense of charm/appeal to make it applicable for everyone around them to understand (thus why they’re so popular, they don’t ‘gate-keep’ certain things from people nor believe in not sharing knowledge as long as it’s done responsibly and with thoughtfulness put into it--- considerate and caring)

Unlike the usual Sagittarius counterparts, these people have a lil more energetic force in their essence. They may be a lil adventurous with themselves, going on search and pilgrimage to find their own ‘self-realization’ and figure out who they are through the process (the type to benefit or take gap years, go backpacking somewhere ksdjnf experience culture and nature and everything in between)

With Leo-- they ground the Sagittarius usually moody/inconsistent manner (bc of it’s mutable signature) -- the person becomes more realistic, more fixed on their expectations, goals, desire.

They may be prone to enjoying lazy days more, luxuriating or enjoying the wealth they accumulated. Leo are hard-workers, but they also play as hard as they get (sometimes more, they believe in efficiency. If you can work and gain more benefit, then it’s good work. Especially if it’s honorable and respectable.)

These people can be up-beat when they want to be, maybe even somehow play it up socially so others responds well to them. They may not know consciously but they know that people tend to respond more affirmatively when it’s a ‘positive’ change instead of a negative one (so tone/voice/shade/demenour is important, and they often take note of this).

One thing to caution these people in is that because they’re happy-go-lucky, pleasure-seeking and self-indulgence (somewhat) they can be prone to making bad judgements or not knowing how to deal with pit falls in their life.

Things--- let’s be real here, things come easier to them than most. They have the smarts and generosity of Sagittarius and the bravery and ‘self’ of Leo. So a lot of the type, that’s the type of energy they attract people to them with (subconsciously)

Thus, they don’t know how other people may suffer/face their own inner demons. Some worse than others. They don’t really know (truly) know what’s its like to live a life in someone else’s shoes. Every problem is solvable to them, and where they lack judgement is in their self-contemplation.

They’re mostly wrapped up, with things they can feel, hear, learn in the world. Their natural world, again like the distraction of how others see them vs how they’re focused on. Being too focused on your own goal, you dont really tend to care or realize how other people live. Nor really putting yourself in another person’s shoe realistically.

There’s lessons to be learnt here, about integrity that you want to embody/truly be about. It’s that you have to a pay a toll.

You have to actually experience the hardship, without a way out or an ‘escape’ route to who you are again (retreating back into the ‘self’) because this is somebody else’s life. This is real, and it’s not a game. It’s not something for people who has the courage or charisma to talk willy nilly about and not understand a single significant thing about it because they’ve never had a day in their life living with the same hardship in their position.

Make sure your Leo doesn’t get defensive, or Sagittarius flighty when confronted with the cold hard truth. If you want to seek self-realization, you got to find it by taking the lessons of Saturn.

Capricorns or Aquarius friends of yours. Are going to help you realize how other people may have it. A change in perspective, this is where you’ll grow best.

Instead of optimism and slight realism, you’ll gain the whole perspective. You have to be able to absorb the truth, whether it’s good or mostly bad. And that’s-- where your true strength will lie.

Whether you suffer, or will come through like a blazing sun will be up to you (you will come through though, it just might take time cause Leo’s slow)

The most important lesson here is that you cannot help yourself/others if you cannot face the Truth. The truth of others, the truth of the situation. The truth of the whole entire idea or concept. Because that’s what’s going to make the most impact, the consequences of your action. The realistic nature of it is going to be jarring, but ultimately-- it’ll give you a leg to grow onto and walk forward with in life.

Aaaah that’s all I have for Sagittarius/Leo! 💕 I hope this is good for you!! 💕💕

#Sagittarius sun #Leo moon #Sagittarius-Leo #Sagittarius #Leo #anon #asks

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we-pay-for-everything · 6 years

Note

I love your meta on the similarities and differences between Rachel and Lorelai! Can that be a new thing, sending you two characters and asking you to analyze their similraities and differences? If so: Elena and Bonnie. And Stefan and Damon please :)

Ha! This is really flattering, especially since I didn’t put that much effort into the Rachel/Lorelai post (I mean, I put effort into it, but it didn’t come out that great). And you can ask me anything! But if you want this to be a “new thing”, it can be! That gives me the idea of creating a masterlist for asks, like gif-makers have? For example:

Choose between two characters.

Choose between two ships.

Compare two characters.

Compare two ships.

Episode analysis.

Etc.? Tell me what you think! I don’t know if that’s something you guys want.

Elena vs. Bonnie

There are obvious similarities between them, personality wise. They’re both very empathetic, selfless, caring, loyal, brave, strong. They love deeply. They’re not afraid to die for what they believe in or for someone they love. They’re smart and resourceful. They don’t like to depend on people. They’re generally honest, but will lie or manipulate if necessary. They keep their promises. They’re protectors.

In the supernatural world, they’re hot commodities, being both human and supernatural (if such a thing isn’t a contradiction!). They can’t help being sucked into the vampire drama. Bennett witches are the most powerful and important of witches, and many spells depend on them. Vampires and other supernaturals love to exploit them. Doppelgangers are supernaturally recurring in nature, and Elena’s doppelganger line is the most important and powerful of them all. Many spells also need blood of the doppelgangers, so supernatural drama follows Elena wherever she goes.

They have an interesting “relationship” with Klaus. In season 2, Elena was the main ingredient (yikes) in the Sun and the Moon curse mess, and Bonnie was the main ingredient in the Kill Klaus mess. The former would grant Klaus true immortality, and the latter would kill him. Elena makes Klaus strong (her blood is the key in creating hybrids and tapping into Klaus’s werewolf side), and Bonnie weakens him (she nearly kills him, more than once, and she and her mother were essential to Esther’s plan to kill the entire vampire race).

Relationship wise, they have similar/opposite dynamics with certain characters. In the beginning, Caroline was their “back-up” best friend. Bonnie loved Jeremy the opposite of how Elena loves Jeremy, but with comparable intensity. Bonnie and Damon have a connection from the beginning, just like Elena and Damon do. (Bonnie and Damon recognized in each other their love for Elena, and their willingness to do whatever it took to protect her. They often worked together to this end, even though they disagreed on everything else. Eventually, Damon and Bonnie become friends, and when Bonnie’s life is tied to Elena’s, he chooses to let Bonnie live although it means postponing his future life with Elena. Damon and Elena had an “understanding”. They were both part of Stefan’s life, and their love for Stefan bound them. They saw in each other the same passion, drive, restlessness, unhappiness.)

Also, Bonnie ends up with Enzo, kinda. She falls for the evil vampire, which is something Elena can relate to!

Differences between them? Elena is more accepting and forgiving than Bonnie. Damon calls Bonnie “Judgy” which isn’t entirely false. As a witch, she is the “judge” of the supernatural world. Witches “maintain the balance”. Bonnie can hold a grudge, and she expects people to be like her. Elena expects good things from people as well, but she’s more understanding and accommodating of their flaws. Elena is warm and soft (her manner is soft, she’s tough), while Bonnie is warm yet hard and inflexible. They’re both very strong and brave, but in different ways. Elena’s strength is in her compassion, vulnerability, adaptability. Bonnie’s strength is in her integrity, resilience, selflessness. Their strength comes from similar places, but expresses itself differently.

Oh, and Bonnie and Elena have a confusing and unconventional family. Bonnie’s family is big though. Her dad’s family is supposed to be huge, and the Bennett line never dies. But Elena’s family is nearly gone. She’s the last doppelganger, both her mothers and both her fathers die, her aunt dies...

All Bonnie and Elena want from life is to be normal and help people. But they also want excitement and adventure (I unintentionally quoted Damon!).

I’m exhausted!! Let’s move on, haha. Stefan vs. Damon under the cut.

Stefan vs. Damon

Oh, boy! Let’s start with the most obvious similarity: their taste in women. Stefan and Damon fall for the same woman, not once!... but twice. Stefan is the love of Katherine’s life, and Damon is the love of Elena’s life. (They also sleep with a lot of the same women: Katherine, Elena, Rebekah, Caroline... yikes!).

Damon and Stefan are brave, capable, smart, perspective, charming (almost unintentionally in Stefan’s case). Damon is selfish, manipulative, into the whole bad boy thing, the older brother, etc. Stefan is selfless, kind, the younger brother. Stefan relates to people, he’s compassionate and empathetic, and thus being a vampire is hard on him. Stefan hates it. Damon isn’t very compassionate at all. He doesn’t connect with most people, especially humans. Life and death mean very little to him overall. Damon loves being a vampire (less than he lets on, but still). Ironically, he has a pretty firm grip on his vampire nature, unlike Stefan who is a ripper. But Stefan has control over his emotions, and Damon is a ticking time bomb. I also want to point out that Stefan and Damon are intelligent in different ways. Both are pragmatic and have tons of life experience, but Damon is more strategic, perceptive, ruthless. His plans often work. Stefan listens and accepts ideas from others. He’s considerate, patient and respectful. He cleans up after Damon’s messes because Damon doesn’t think things through, and his plans have unforeseen consequences. They’re both leaders, and people to turn to in times of crisis. They’re also very good liars!

Damon was his father’s least favorite child, and Stefan was the golden child. I dunno if Stefan was also his mom’s favorite?

Damon loves Elena’s kindness and beautiful heart, but what he loves the most is her passion, spunk, strength, hunger for something more. Stefan loves Elena’s vitality and resilience, but he loves her compassion, warmth and groundedness (yes, that’s an actual word, I checked!) more. Ultimately, that’s why Stefan and Damon responded so differently to Elena becoming a vampire. Being a vampire made Elena more intense, more impulsive, more bold. Damon responded very well to that. He loved that she became hungry for life and out of control, like him. But Stefan didn’t like that Elena became less “stable”, because Elena was his rock. Her immutability was part of the reason he loved her.

Stefan and Damon have something very important in common besides their love for Elena and that’s their love for each other. Despite everything, they can’t let the other die. They’ll fight and nearly kill each other, but they’ll always have each other’s backs when it matters most. They know each other very well, but they’re biased and that works against them. Their complicated history together gets in the way of them seeing each other as they are.

I think Stefan wants a peaceful existence. He wants to control his darkest parts. Caroline was good for him in that way, because she has impeccable self-control and is a planner. Stefan’s life is a big ol’ mess but Caroline is great at cleaning up messes. Their nice June wedding and their wholesome personalities speak to this peaceful, human-like existence they both wanted (Caroline has ambition, but she also wants stability). Damon, again ironically, is the one who gets the cliché human life. But he loved Elena because he saw the anger, pain and passion just bubbling under the surface. She was always more out of control than she let on. Damon and Elena have the most fun together after a near-death experience or when something unexpected happens.

Damon and Stefan are very evenly matched in terms of strength and knowledge. They’re similar in ways I can’t describe. When I look at them and their arcs, I see a convergence of their personalities and life choices. It’s hard to explain. I think they have more similarities than differences.

Thanks for the ask!!! That was quite a ride.

#ask #tvd #bonnie bennett #elena gilbert #damon salvatore #stefan salvatore #delena #stelena #steroline #thanks #kudos if you read all of that #Anonymous

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