#he knows he deserves his punishment and cannot escape the person he became and accepts his death as his own

[ouroborosorder]

I don't want to jump the gun because the official lyrics haven't been released, but just from what lyrics I CAN pick out, Bedman?'s theme is going to emotionally devastate the fuck out of me

[furiousgoldfish]

Personal post about trauma under the cut, extremely upsetting content, do not read if you had narcissistic parents and don't wanna get triggered, I am very sad and mad and it's hard to talk about this. TW child labor, child torture, brainwashing, death threats, narcissistic abuse.

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I was a hardworking child, I was happy and excited to work, I wanted to be a part of everything that's being done. I noticed work warranted for people to get respect, food, praise, acceptance, and I wanted to work hard so I too would be a part of that. My family lived in a rural area, they kept animals, grew fields of crops, were always in some sort of construction work, so me always being eager to work was pretty much ideal for them, or you'd think that it was. You'd think that.

I was working eagerly and I realized, that unlike for adults, I don't get respect, praise, acceptance, or sometimes even food. It was for some reason denied to me only. And I was still happy to work because I chased that feeling of personal accomplishment, even if there was no rewards. And again, you'd think this is perfectly convenient and ideal to parents who wanted free labour and to give no recognition or praise in return. You'd think that.

But it wasn't enough for them. Father got this idea to take me out to work with him alone, away from home. I remember the place we went to, only as a place I need burned down to the ground before I could breathe again. It was a demolition-construction of a house, and I don't remember how many time I've been there. All I know is, after first few times, I no longer wanted to go. I begged not to go.

I am guessing my father could not bear the looks of me working happily, or even working silently. Me doing everything I was told was not fun enough for him– so he would give me false instructions. As an easy setup for punishment. I did exactly what I was told, and would get screamed at and beaten up. Then forced to keep working in tears, shaking, terrified, injured, while being further berated. And that was only the start.

Even as a child, I was diligent and responsible about doing work, and I know I was getting things done just fine, because, I was doing the sibling's share of chores too. If siblings were called to work, they would simply mess up on purpose so I would be told to repeat it after them, correctly. Sometimes siblings would have me do it and take the credit, which I didn't mind because working made me feel better about myself. It made me feel useful. My mind was already dissociated from my body to the point where I no longer felt exhaustion, pain, strain, or any physical effect work was having on me. I would get berated and shamed if I showed signs of being tired or strained. So my body disregarded it all.

And yeah, that wasn't enough either. I was still sometimes feeling okay. If I was allowed to work alone, and let my mind wonder, if nobody commented on it I knew it was okay.

So this is where they decided to take a step further and disallow me to feel okay at any point. I was humiliated while working to the point of tears. I'd be ridiculed in front of guests. I could no longer enjoy my own thoughts, but constant criticism, insults, accusations and humiliation was raining down on me at every step. And when I was done, with tremendous effort it took to endure this, I would be told 'It would have been better if you had done nothing.' So my insane effort to endure abuse to get things done, was rendered worthless in a second.

Father kept taking me away to work alone with him, and forced me to listen to his monologues, which I hated, because he was boring, wrong and self-obsessed, but I wasn't allowed to say that, or argue. My silent compliance was never enough. He had to hit me. He had to find something to berate me over. He kept inventing reasons. I would clean his entire garage and he'd move a steel closet I couldn't possibly move and berate me for not cleaning under it.

I had a log thrown into my head, causing a head injury, and I had to keep working. I fell and fractured my shoulder so badly I could barely walk; I was brought to a forest to drag logs around, too heavy for me to lift. I was sometimes orchestrated to get injured; father would start a trailer I was standing on the edge of, and forced me to fall by quickly moving forward just enough. I was still expected to work after that. He hit me with a blunt edge of an axe and berated me for standing there. I was told to 'not expect a lift to the hospital'. I was brought to work while starved, grieving, suicidal. I was lied to about where I was going and what would I be doing, and for how long. I was never allowed to stop working.

And the game of giving me wrong instructions and punishing me for doing it 'wrong' never stopped. I caught on and begged for correct instructions. I would ask to explain, how to do it, to show me, anything. 'HOW OLD are you not to know this? I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO TELL YOU! YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS BY NOW!' And by his rage, I could tell that if I don't do it any way I knew how, I'd be punished instantly. I had no choice but to try – and of course fail, and feel horribly ashamed for 'deserving to get beat up'. Eventually my brain started shortcircuiting at the simplest tasks, I would mess up because I was in terror. I couldn't think.

At this point, I no longer wished to work for people who would inflict violence on me. And that is when I was quckly informed that if I didn't work, I would be killed. Not in those words. It was 'You have to work if you want to live!' followed by 'We can kick you out and you will starve on the street. Nobody will take you in. There is no place for you. Nobody wants someone like you. You don't deserve to eat if you don't work.' My choices were taken away. If I still refused, the result would be to beat me and force me to work injured, shaking and crying.

All this, for what? I would have been HAPPY to work. I would have been chasing my little daydreams and singing the pokemon tune, and if I was ever praised, I'd be the happiest kid on the block. I was a kid who liked to work. I wanted minimal fairness, minimal acknowledgment. To be a part of the family. Only that.

It just wouldn't do for the narcssistic father. Watching a child be broken, terrified and shaking, crying, ashamed, guilty, working past exhaustion, in injuries, was just too tempting for him to pass up. Even free labor wasn't worth to him as much as the pleasure of child torture. He needed that like it was a drug. What kind of a sick high did he experience, breaking a defenseless kid? What kind of pleasure did it entail, getting someone rid of their natural happiness to work? Was it fun, tearing me into pieces, over and over again? Does he remember it as a delicious, satisfying pleasure? Does he daydream about it? He knew it was wrong; he forced me to stop crying and hide the tears before we went home. 'Don't say anything to your mother.' I was told before being stuffed back in his car.

And now... I can't work. I can't even move sometimes. It was torn away from me. My ability to work was ripped away from my child body when I had no way to defend it or to grab it back and protect what is mine. I can't work anymore. It's terrifying. It terrifies me to not work. Because I was made aware working is the only thing keeping me alive, and capitalism confirms this, so I remain to forever fight with myself about how even if everyone says otherwise, I still deserve to live. Heartbroken, abandoned, with my basic human abilities stripped from me. It doesn't make me deserving to die.

I am so angry and sad. If I had my natural ability to work back, I'd be fine. I would be able to live safely. I wouldn't spiral into feeling like an unworthy member of society. I learned to survive very insecurely like this, but I hate every second of it. To know that instead of this insane uncertainty, anxiety, guilt for being bedridden, guilt for existing and not moving, I could have just found a job, have normal income? I can't bear it. I can't bear knowing this was wrenched away from me, because it was pleasurable to do so, because tearing me into pieces was a fun hobby for people who didn't care if what they were doing to me killed me. And I couldn't have done anything to stop it. And I'm like this now. Unable to take any more torture, unable to endure any more of being triggered, wondering if I would die from lack of resources, or would my body fail permanently in attempts to process all the exhaustion and pain I was dissociated from for my entire childhood.

How was this worth it. How it could have been worth it to anyone, destroying someone's ability to work, only because it's pleasurable. I felt the plan was to work me until I no longer could do it, then kill me. It's what they did to animals. And I was told I was more worthless than an animal. I was called lazy and a monstrous name I can't even translate, that implied I was burdening everyone with my existence.

It was even a bigger punch to my face to realize, after I escaped, that he was profiting from everything I did. That it would have taken money – way more than was ever spent on my survival, to get all that labor done. He was profitting while telling me I was worthless and don't deserve to eat or sleep in his house. He is now renting the place I was broken to help build. I was torn apart and he is still benefiting from it. And I have nothing. Not even a functional body to work with anymore.

I know I'm not the only person who was constantly left alone with narcissists as a child and had this, or worse, done to them. They don't care which pieces of children are left over by the time they're done getting their high. We're only a thing to consume, not living beings, not people, not someone whose life matters. Our pain is food to them. My father readily became a predator who snached his own kid away for torture sessions, and felt proud and fulfilled to turn his own child into a creature who cannot work anymore to survive.

Don't leave children alone with narcissists. I am trying so hard to get better, but facing reality, is this a thing a person gets better from? It's not a bodily harm of once or twice, this was happening for the most majority of my lifetime. It makes sense I cannot move. It makes sense I'm terrified to be triggered into this. It makes sense I can barely bear the reality of it. A person tortured hundreds of times wont just get up and walk away. I can't either. I have to lie here and hope that one day it will get better.

If you read thru all this, and you relate to the parts of this story, know that I am so sorry for what you were put thru. It's devastating and horrenous. If this is how you grew up, it would have been better not to have a family. We all should have been protected from this.

[hotchley]

where he's been

I did it!

I wrote the happy ending/second part, in which he makes the deliberate choice to show her and there is healing and there is joy and there is love <3

Everyone say thank you to the anon on tumblr that asked me about this when I did the WIP game, because without them we wouldn't have gotten here...

But we did! I finished a multi-chapter thing!

Trigger Warnings: scars, intrusive thoughts, trauma, references to the events of the Foyet and Doyle arcs, mild sexual content, surgery, medical things (Route 66 references mostly)

read on ao3!

previously: part one

Part Two: He Shows

The first time Aaron shows Emily his scars, she smiles.

He shows her deliberately. Because he wants to. Because he loves her, and he loves himself. Because he trusts her. He wants to be vulnerable with her in a way he could only ever be with Haley. He wants to do this, for her, and for himself. He knows they are not beautiful, that she may flinch at the sight of his humanity as everyone seems to do, but he needs her to see them. Properly. In a way that is right.

His body feels more like his with every day that passes now. He will never forget the pain his fathers emotions brought, or how he felt completely paralysed and pinned in place by George Foyet and his knife. His mind may never recover. But he's been making progress, and despite the emergency surgery, his body is recovering and he's proud of it. He's proud of himself.

And he's proud of Emily too. When she was in Paris, and he was too consumed by grief to do much more than look through the files they had on Doyle, he would feel a sense of pride in her, and all she had overcome. In all she had accomplished. In all she had survived, and continued to survive. But most of all, he was proud that she never let Doyle win.

Even when he tried to scar her body forever as a punishment for everything she had done, even though she had been right, she had always been right, she didn't let him win. She wore that scar with the same pride everyone on the team did. Because those scars made them human. They reminded him they weren't untouchable, but they were stronger than anyone gave them credit for.

It took a while for her to get there. There were still days where she would scrub the area till the skin went red, as though enough force would remove it. There were days where she would think of how far plastic surgery had come, and wonder- if she was given the chance- whether she would keep the marks. But there are other days, where she doesn't even hesitate before wearing shorts. Before wearing something with a lower neckline.

It's different for Aaron. Not for any real reason, he's just a different person. The scars that cover his torso, the scars that match the killer of his first love, of the first woman to teach him that when the poets said love hurt, they did not mean like the pain that came with smashed glass or belt marks, they meant a pleasant hurt, were almost impossible for him to accept.

The ones on his back became easier with time. Because they healed, and they faded to silver lines. He can still feel it, and can still tell when someone has touched him there. He no longer flinches, as the touches placed there are warm and gentle. Neutral. And he was a child, who deserved to be safe. A child, who shouldn't have known how to fight.

The ones left by Foyet were harder to come to terms with. He cannot feel there properly. The few times Emily has touched him- over his shirt, only ever over his shirt- he has either winced at a phantom twinge of pain or stared at her blankly because the area was numb.

He used to feel like he should've fought back. Properly. His gun was on the table, he could've grabbed it. He knows he could've because he dreams of that night more times than he doesn't. Being exhausted wasn't an excuse. Elle told him it was, but he remembers how she was- so unforgiving of herself. He wouldn't extend himself the courtesy she hadn't.

Foyet’s scars were just different. He hated having the same marks as a killer. He hated how, every time he walked into his apartment, he would remember. Vividly. The moments from his childhood still haunted him, but some of them were starting to blur together. But the feeling of the knife plunging in- he would always remember each and every single one.

The stitches tore during his thirty-four days off. He had sent everyone away, not wanting them to see just how much he needed them, because he needed to convince himself they still believed in his invincibility. The irony of his situation, especially as Derek held his hand from the bed to the wheelchair, was not lost on him. But then he regained his independence.

Then the damage done almost became irreversible. Collapsing in the conference room had been terrifying for everyone, but waking up had been the hardest thing he'd ever made himself do. During one of his brief moments of consciousness, he realised it was the damage Foyet had done when he scarred him that had led him to the abyss he'd visited once, and only once before.

When he finally gained the courage to look in the mirror, he broke. The scars were never going to heal properly, he'd realised that right before the pain became overwhelming. Foyet's hadn't. No matter how careful he may have been the second time round, the scars were never going to fade. They were still red, just less angry.

Seeing them after the surgery, in the same apartment, with the same mirror, sent him back in time. They were too red. They were too deep, too much and he couldn't look at himself, couldn't go through the pain of realising just how strong one man's hold on him was. Not for a second time.

Emily found him like that. She didn't walk in, knowing he would never recover if she did. But when he emerged thirty minutes later, wearing Haley's college hoodie that had always fit him perfectly, she took his hand. She kissed his forehead, and played with his hair as they watched one of Jack's cartoons. A part of her felt guilty for not saying something, but he felt more grateful for that than she would ever know.

They had sat on the couch until they fell asleep then. They were sitting on the couch when she touched the biggest scar, causing him to wince and run out, leading to her seeing them for the first time.

Because sometimes, the world is cyclical, they're sitting on the couch when he shows her.

This time, Jack is at a sleepover. There had been a gala, and he had looked so happy as he accepted his reward. Shocked beyond belief when Strauss announced her retirement. But so incredibly happy when she named him her successor, especially when he realised there was no reason he had to become a paper-pusher. There was no reason for him to change.

He looks so perfect, cheeks glowing and genuine smile overpowering everything else about him that she can't help but kiss him the moment they get in the car. If they seemed like love-struck teenagers to everyone that drove past then so be it. He looked handsome in his suit, but happiness suited him even more and she wouldn't let anyone dampen it.

So they're sitting on the couch, and his hands are running up and down her arms like he still can't quite believe she wants him. Her dress matches his tie- of course it does, because Aaron pouted and stared at her till she told him the colour- and she looks so beautiful that all he wants to do is watch her. She doesn't even have to do anything, so long as he can admire her.

Just like before, she touches his torso. Before he looks down, she pulls her hand away like he burnt it. A silent apology starts to pass her lips, but he kisses it away before it gets the chance to escape. Tonight, there will be no apologies. There will be no sadness.

Only them and the love they fought so hard for.

"Aaron," she says. "What's going on?"

He cannot tell her, his heart suddenly racing. He knows that he's ready to do this. He knows he wants to. He knows that there will be no shame or judgement if he suddenly stops halfway through. He knows all of that, but the traitorous, self-sabotaging part of his brain wants nothing more than to throw her out.

Before she sees his humanity. Before she gets too close and gets hurt. Before she decides that he is too damaged, and too messy, and too ruined for her to love.

But there is a piece of his brain that is stronger than that. A piece that knows she has seen his humanity every moment since she met him, all those years ago. That knows she has already gotten too close, but with her eyes wide open to all the danger that could come. She loves him. She loves him knowingly and deliberately.

He isn't ruined. He never has been. And yes, he is messy, but everyone is. She knows him. Perhaps better than he does. So she won't leave. Not this time.

He's not said anything for a while, and she's starting to worry. Then he takes her hand, as he has done a thousand times before, and the weight of it grounds her. She trusts him. Whatever he is going to do, he will do because they both want it.

"Close your eyes. Please? I'm not going to touch you, but I can't- if I say it, I'll back out," he whispers.

She realises suddenly, randomly, that the lights are still on. "Okay," she whispers, and complies. Talking feels too loud.

"You can open them now," he says, a few minutes later.

She does. And for a moment, she has no idea what's happening.

And then she sees. Properly. He's taken his shirt off, and his scars are completely visible to her. All of them. She's never loved him more. For trusting her enough to show her who he is. For loving her enough to be so vulnerable without fear. For being so brave that she no longer feels afraid of anything.

"My darling," she says, because Aaron feels too casual. But she has no words.

He takes her hand again, and presses it against his chest. She can feel his heart racing underneath it.

"This belongs to you. Whatever is left of it, however long it may beat for, it all belongs to you. Because I love you. And I trust you. So break it if you must, but carry the pieces with you because they are yours, now and forever."

Emily can't help the tears that start pooling in her eyes. She understands where this is coming from. He thought that this would be the thing that made her hesitate. One day, he will realise that this is the thing that convinced her that it was right. She had known for a while that she was going to spend whatever portion of her life that he wanted her for with him, but now she was so sure that the thought didn't fill her with dread.

There are no words in a language she speaks to tell him how much this means to her. So she settles for the ones that will do. "It won't be the pieces that I carry. It will be the whole thing. For as long as you will allow me to. I love you, Aaron Hotchner. I love you, I love you, I love you." She smiles as she says the words, not once moving away from him.

He smiles, as he always does, before he kisses her. He smiles through the kiss.

It is perfect. It is beautiful. Standing there, with him so vulnerable and her so irreversibly in love, it is hard to believe that the place they are creating their happy ending, is the same space where he was once stabbed in. The place where she set off that chain of events not so long ago.

They go to sleep, in the same bed, wrapped in each others' warmth. It feels perfect. The photo of Haley they keep on the dresser seems to glow even brighter, like she too is so proud of who they have become.

The first time Aaron shows Emily his scars, she smiles.

And Aaron does too. Because now he's shown her. Properly. And he saw her face, full of love and admiration and pride in how far he has come. She's seen them. But it was his decision. And that, more than anything, heals the final piece of his soul that Foyet destroyed.

[kenpxchi]

hellish. || origin

Hell in the world of Bleach is a crazy place.

In the movie and novels, it is given far more lore than in the manga, with its own locales. However, the interesting thing about Hell is that it predates the creation of the three main worlds of Bleach (Hueco Mundo, Soul Society, and the Living World). Moreover, as revealed in Can’t Fear Your Own World, the Soul King was born into a world overrun by Hollows, and was essentially the first Quincy, as they completely eliminated any Hollows they found, but their actions earned grave consequences.

Interestingly enough, the existence of Hell predates the existence of even the Soul King itself. It has somehow always been there, always accepting those worthy of its punishment. Moreover, Hell seems to have an affinity with Hollows and those with Hollow-like abilities, trying to draw out the Hollow within.

In light of this, here’s my theory: Hell is the ultimate origin of all Hollows, and Kenpachi has a connection to it.

I’m gonna be making some crazy cosmology theories below the cut.

Exhibit A: Chains and Fate

Hell is bound by a gate of chains, and any sinners who escape it are forcibly dragged back by chains that link them to Hell. Similarly, when a soul becomes a Hollow, its Chain of Fate is completely dissolved through the process of Encroachment. Moreover, when the soul of a sinner, a Togabito, manages to escape hell, they must constantly hide their face with a mask. Moreover, in the manga (Volume imaginary number 01. the unforgivens, which is helpful if you want icons of Szayel & Aaroniero), it is revealed that Hollows and even Arrancar, who are composites of hundreds of thousands of Souls, retain their original form in Hell.

So, here’s my theory: the first Hollows were Togabito who managed to escape Hell by severing themselves from the chains that bound them and wearing masks to remain hidden, but in the process, they lost their identity and became monsters. As for why Arrancar appear in Hell, it is likely so that the individual souls that make up their being can slowly be torn away and sifted through, so that the innocent souls can leave and the guilty remain trapped. In the beginning, since there was no life or death, there really only remains one dichotomy between the unified world and Hell.

The unified world was where good people lived in peace, and Hell was where bad people were punished. Or, at least, the bad people who got caught. And this has remained Hell’s purpose for the entirety of time immemorial: to punish Togabito and make them suffer. Which brings me to my next point.

Exhibit B: The Denial of Suffering

Now, as we all know, due to the Soul King completely erasing the Hollows, the balance of the world began to destabilize. The Soul King was willingly split into pieces by the original five Noble Houses of the Soul Society, and the world was divided up into three different pieces: Hueco Mundo, Soul Society, and the Living World. However, there are some pretty significant plot holes which I hope to address.

Why would the Soul King’s actions destabilize the world if there was no life or afterlife, and therefore, no balance of souls between them?

Simple. Hell was being denied its suffering. By completely annihilating a Hollow, you’re essentially destroying it quickly, cleanly, and without any punishment for its misdeeds. Hell, obviously, is going to be very angry about this, as it was robbed of its escaped prisoners, assuming my cosmology theory is correct. This would definitely lead to a destabilization event. The caretakers of Hell, the Kushanada, are indestructible juggernauts who eat sinners (this is what we in the business call foreshadowing, kids).

You would not want them getting mad and coming out of Hell to ruin your day, Soul King or not, because not only are they entirely indestructible, they can pool their power together into a single entity (or person, if you’re the protagonist) capable of damning someone to eternal torment. No matter what you can do, no matter how strong you are, if the Kushanada deem you a sinner, and all unite to come after you, prepare for literally eternal pain.

So, now the decision to take a nigh-omnipotent and omniscient god, cut him into pieces, stick him in a crystal, and split the world apart sounds a bit more reasonable considering the alternative would be to doom the entirety of all sentient beings to unending agony at the hands of the Kushanada.

Why would the Soul King agree to being sealed in the first place?

Simple. He realize that if his actions doomed the entire world to Hell, that whatever fate awaited him there would be worse than being dismembered and sealed away for eternity acting as the lynchpin between all three worlds. Faced with this choice, any sane person would take the option with less pain... as grisly as that option may be.

Why would the Soul King create a place for Hollows if he wanted to kill all of them?

My guess is that if the Soul King was kind enough to be hacked up for the sake of the world, the reason he was completely erasing Hollows in the first place was in order to protect them from eternal torment in Hell. Unlike the Kushanada, who thrive on making sinners suffer forever, the Soul King likely held the belief that people can change, and don’t deserve such cruelty. So, Hueco Mundo was created as a world that gives Hollows some respite from the horrors of Hell, which are apparently worse than a desert full of cannibalism and death. However, that’s me psychoanalyzing a character who has no dialogue in the manga proper, and is mostly used as a plot device until he dies. Nice job killing him, Ichigo.

Now, having patched up some of the plot holes with liberal application of assumptions and theory, let’s move on to Kenpachi’s connection to it.

Exhibit C: Suffering in the Separate Worlds

So, the Soul King and his five teenagers with attitude noble family heads all managed to appease Hell somehow. However, this likely wasn’t all they did to keep Hell from engulfing everything. Remember how earlier I said that the original, unified world was a place where only good people lived? Now, look at the three disparate worlds.

Hueco Mundo is a barren wasteland ruled by the strongest, who exploit and devour the weak. Soul Society is an authoritarian nightmare with a disparity in class living conditions so stark it’s worse than some caste systems. The World of the Living is... well. We all live in it, and we know how it’s going. So what happened to each of these three worlds to make them so bleak?

My guess is that Hell demanded to have its own little piece of itself in each of these new worlds, in order to make up for all the suffering that was lost due to the Soul King’s actions. It’s why Bleach is a horrifically depressing world. The Soul King defied the guys who believe in eternal punishment. Disproportionate retribution was bound to occur in that situation.

Now, to sprinkle in a little more theory. There are locations in these three worlds that have a strong connection to Hell. They aren’t set in stone; they’re simply the locations where the most suffering occurs. Kushanada are drawn to it, since it’s usually where their prey is causing trouble. One such location might be the Outer Rukon.

Specifically, Northern District 80: Zaraki.

The Nameless Boy

So, in light of all this headcanon lore and all these attempts to plug up the plot holes of Bleach, we come to the origins of Kenpachi Zaraki, the man who was born in the most hellish district in the Rukon. I’m still going with the idea of him being the son of a sex worker who fell pregnant and fled to Zaraki. However, we don’t know who the father is.

The mother goes into labor and dies in childbirth. Shortly after, her baby dies. However, because the baby is born in a literal actual hellhole, there’s an innate connection to the energies of Hell, which thrive on suffering. The baby wound up forging a connection to it, as its death in such close proximity to Hell at such a young age would likely grab the attention of the Kushanada, who would be somewhat miffed that they were denied such good suffering.

So what do they do? They decide to put a little piece of Hell into the baby, as retribution for their loss. And so, the baby boy comes back to life. He eats the corpse of his mother, grows old enough to escape the basement he’d been hiding in his entire life, and goes out to start killing.

This gives us a few interesting implications:

The reason Kenpachi doesn’t stay dead is because he cannot stay dead. He’s meant to be a piece of Soul Society forever corrupted by Hell, and to act as an agent of the Kushanada. It’s why he heals so quickly and just keeps getting back up no matter what he gets hit with.

Kenpachi’s impossible durability and horrifying strength come from his connection to Hell, as does his seemingly unending pool of reiatsu, mimicking the Kushanada.

Because Kenpachi gets stronger every time he dies, even after unlocking the unconscious seal he placed on himself, he’s tapping more and more into his connection to Hell whenever he dies.

When Kenpachi goes to the Living World, he is literally Hell on Earth.

tl;dr - Kenpachi is Bleach’s version of Ghost Rider.

Anyway, that’s my spiel. If there are any inconsistencies, feel free to DM me and let me know.

[basicsofislam]

ISLAM 101: Muslim Culture and Character: Morals And Manners: TEASING AND MOCKING

The Qur’an commands that people should not make fun of, embarrass, or ridicule one another, nor call each other by unbecoming nicknames. This is an important principle if there are to be good relations among people in a community.

O you who believe! Let not some people among you deride another people, it may be that the latter are better than the former; nor let some women deride other women, it may be that the latter are better than the former. Nor defame one another (and provoke the same for yourselves in retaliation), nor insult one another with nicknames (that your brothers and sisters dislike). Evil is using names with vile meaning after (those so addressed have accepted) the faith (– doing so is like replacing a mark of faith with a mark of transgression). Whoever (does that and then) does not turn to God in repen- tance, (giving up doing so), those are indeed wrongdoers. (Hujurat 49:11)

Here I will address the issues in this verse, using Elmalili Hamdi Yazir as a source, but attempting to simplify his ideas. After the verse opens with a call to believers to conscientiously treat each other well, it inspires believers to do so with the great- est sincerity, indicating that this will make it possible for many more nations and people to perceive and accept the beauty of Islam. Then, this verse goes on from generally fostering brother- hood to teaching people the adab of how to treat each other, both face to face and when apart. There were several events that occa- sioned the revelation of this verse:

1. According to a narration from Dahhaq, several people from the tribe of Banu Tamim teased and mocked Companions like Bilal al-Habashi, Habbab, Ammar, Suhayb, Abu Dharr, Salim, and Mawla Hudayfa.

2. Aisha said she used to tease Zaynab bint Huzayma al-Hila- liyya for being short. Likewise she and Hafsa talked be- tween themselves about how short Umm Salama was.

3. Ibn Abbas relates that Safiyya bint Huyayy once came to the Messenger and said, “The women call me ‘Jew, daughter of a Jew’ to tease me.” The Messenger replied, “Why do you not reply, ‘My father was Aaron, my uncle was Moses, and my husband is Muhammad’?”

4. Thabit ibn Qays was partially deaf and therefore when he was near the Prophet, other people would let him through the crowd so he could come closer to hear. One day he came and started going through the others, saying, “Move, make room.” One man did not pay attention, and Thabit became offended and asked, “Who is this?” The man told him his name. The other retorted, “No, you are the son of the woman who—” attributing him to a woman known for indecency. The man was embarrassed, and when this verse was revealed, Thabit never talked about nobleness by birth again.

5. Ikrima, the son of Abu Jahl (Islam’s most determined en- emy), became Muslim, but he was called “Son of the Pharaoh of the community of believers.” This upset him and he told the Prophet about it.41

According to Qurtubi, to mock someone means that one is looking down on them, insulting them, putting them down, and talking about their faults in order to ridicule them. Razi says from a community point of view, mocking another person means “showing one’s believing brother or sister less than their deserved respect and honor, approaching them in an uncomplimentary way.” In the above verse the words qawm (tribe) and nisa (wom- en) are used, which in Arabic denotes the men and the women of the community. There are other linguistic clues as well which prove this. The concept of the community is important in this verse in several ways:

1. It serves as a reminder that Islam is not a religion solely for private practice, but is meant to be lived as a community.

2. It shows that mocking others can cause serious problems and individuals must cease to practice such behavior.

3. The verse also implies that this action or habit on the part of one individual becomes like a sickness that affects the whole community, as a person who mocks others will al- ways have some hangers-on laughing at the jokes and try- ing to become their friend by doing the same. If any ques- tion remains as to why such actions are forbidden, every believer should be concerned about the final reason: It may be that, in God’s sight, the one who is mocked is ac- tually better than the one who is mocking. For we can on- ly know the outer appearance of others; God alone knows their hearts. We are not capable of knowing what level of value a person has in front of God. Therefore, no one has the right to belittle, look down on, or make fun of anoth- er person because of some outward appearance or action; this may be misleading. If the person we mock is greatly loved by God and we show them disrespect, then surely we will have wronged our own soul as well as that of the person. In other words, making fun of others is wrong in two ways: First, if a Muslim mocks another believer, they are mocking themselves, since we are all like one body. Second, if a person does something shameful, it brings shame most of all on their own soul. Thus, the verse can be paraphrased like this: “Do not mock, embarrass, or be- little believers; for to do so is to mock, embarrass, and be- little yourself.” Or, if we look at it from the second aspect, “When you make a fool of someone or demean them, the result is that you have made a fool of yourself and besmirched your own name.” In other words, the first meaning is more to do with brotherhood, while the second meaning pertains to the honor and dignity of our individual soul.

A nickname is given either to honor someone or to bring them down in some way. The verse uses the word nabz to refer to epithets with derogatory meanings; these are forbidden. On the other hand, it is permissible to give or use positive epithets. According to Kashshaf, the Prophet said, “One of the rights of a believer over his believing brother is to be called by the name he loves most.” This is why giving a beautiful epithet is Sunna, in ac- cordance with the Prophet’s example. Some of the Companions had such kunya, or respectful but intimate names. Most societies have such epithets. But any kind of derogatory term of abuse should be avoided. Calling someone by a derogatory name is fisq, or deviant, immoral behavior, so a person doing this is considered to be ignoring the ethics of Islam. This is a very serious situation for anyone to find themselves in. Knowing that this brings serious punishment and a state that is less than true practice and belief, one should actively and carefully avoid calling other people names or mocking them.42

MAKING A MOCKERY OF FAITH

Another related topic addressed in the Qur’an is a type of hypoc- risy. This occurs when people act one way while with believers, but make fun of the believers when they are not with them, thus showing their hidden identity. Just as believers should not make fun of one another, they should also exercise common sense and avoid making themselves the butt of others’ jokes by speaking of their beliefs among people who may mock them once they leave. In Sura Baqara it is written:

When they meet those who believe, they declare (hypocritically), “We believe”; but when they are alone in secret with their (apparently human) satans (to whom they hasten in need to renew their unbelief and their pledge to them for fear of losing their support), they say, “Assuredly we are with you; we only mock (those others).” (Since what they do only means demanding straying and ridicule,) God returns their mockery, leaving them to wander blindly on in their rebellion. Such are the ones who have bought straying in exchange for guidance, but their trade has brought no profit, and they have no way out to escape it. (Baqara 2:14–16)

There is no question about how despicable this kind of behav- ior is morally; such people cannot be called believers. They show a friendly, fawning face toward believers while they are with them, but only so that they can hide their true, malicious intentions. Then when they get together with the evildoing mischief-makers, they say, “We are truly with you and were only acting; trust us.” The more they swear their allegiance, the more they are actually confirming their treachery, pitting themselves against the believers with their fellow conspirators. Such an action is against basic de- cency and morality, as these people are mocking and devaluing be- lief itself; thus, it is easy to understand why such an attitude is one of the markers of unbelief (kufr).

To ridicule someone, even in jest, means to violate their hon- or and dignity. Most people who make fun of believers do not have the courage to insult them; if they do, then insult reflects badly on the person uttering it, not on the one they are insulting. But when people insult believers, God and the whole universe will hold them in contempt, whether they realize it or not, even if they think that their action is concealed. Without a doubt it must be the greatest burden to have such a thing on one’s conscience.43

[armymaryoongi]

Chapter three: Sakura Handkerchief

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, slightly mature, historical au; king au

warning: mentions of death/alcohol

words count: 1k+

Special appearance: Royal Swordsman Kim Taehyung

Note:  English is not my native language. (I’ve added links to the royal marriage attires if you curious to know)

(Names, places and incidents are just based on fiction)

masterlist // Ch. Four

Summary: Just like any other kids, King Min Yoongi also has his own childhood memories but his involved a mystery girl who he met once and was known as his love at the first sight. Will he gets any chance to meet her again? What will he does when he found her? Will the girl remember her too?

8 YEARS LATER

Loud thuds can be heard clearly across the King’s quarter as the two blades striking on one another fiercely. His long blonde hair was poker-straight and it flowed behind him as he sways his body, immersed with the movement of his sword. Only some of his hair is pulled back into a ponytail. His pale skin is glistening with sweats as he continuously positions himself under the blazing sun. Nothing seems different from his previous self except his height, voice, status and manners—maturity and manly.

Before his opponent can think of another strategy, he swiftly cut the air as his blade aimed the man, finishing the battle. “You are magnificent, King!” sincere praise came out smoothly from his swordsman, Kim Taehyung. The praised man unable to say anything in between catching his breath only shows off his smirk. “I would like to suggest you practise only once a week since you are already powerful in a sword battle.” Kim continuously praised his King.

The King slowly walked to the bench near his chamber and took a seat on it. “As someone who I pointed as Royal swordsman, I believe your words. Arrange the schedule and inform me as soon as possible.” He gave his sword to Kim, letting him secure it later. “I will do as you command. Let me know if you need anything regarding your sword practices.” Kim answered and bowed deeply.

“Taehyung, as my most trusted man in this palace. Please be honest with me.” Min looked up at the sky, hesitated to ask his swordsman. “Yes, anything my King.” he wiped off the sweats that threatening to fall from his forehead. Min didn’t answer him, instead, he pointed his right eyes—his scar. Kim doesn’t need clarification as he understood where this conversation will lead to. “Your queen to-be will accept you wholly, King. Unless she’s an ignorant person and fails to understand.” he assured the young King.

Yes, Yoongi has a scar that scratched from his black brow to his apple of the cheek. It happened two years ago when a big war occurred between Joseon and Shangri La caused by economic gain. As a Crown Prince who was skilful in a sword battle, he has voiced out the idea to take part in the war even though the Queen—his mother has opposed the idea, scared anything happens to Joseon’s only heir. A month of the war, news about Shangri La almost conquered Joseon had spread around the world but lucks and victory have chosen Joseon over the opponent country. Howbeit, the aftermath of war has sacrificed a thousand soldiers from Joseon, included Hyung Sun, the Head Personal Guard who wanted to devote devotion to the country. After the death of Hyung Sun, this Royal swordsman named Kim Taehyung has become the most trusted and closest person to Min Yoongi.

Sad to say, the following year, Joseon received another shocking news when their beloved King—Min Yoongi’s father passed away after six months fallen sick. With advice from ministers, Yoongi must take over the throne even though he is an unwed man. According to the rules, someone with a scar cannot be the King to the country but it cannot be applied in Yoongi’s affair. The scar on his face is a symbol of his loyalty and dedication to Joseon. Hence, the entire country agreed to pass down the throne to him.

Killing two birds with one stone; Yoongi is in his mother’s chamber to visit and has a discussion. He is well aware of himself—the King need a companion, a queen and a wife beside him to rule the country. Currently, he is proposing the idea to wed a princess as he is not young anymore for the palace to hold the selection of Crown Princess as they did when he was a little child. “I agree with you, child. Besides, I don’t want to repeat that history.” the Queen Dowager glared at his son as she reminds him. Yet, she only received a soft chuckle from the young King.

“Mother, as you just said, that happened when I was a little child, too young to understand about palace rules. Now, I’m the King and I need someone that not only can rule this country with me but to share life, emotions and problems together for eternal.” he pressed his lips into a thin smile. His cheeks became rosy as he felt shy to utter these words to his mother. The Queen Dowager said nothing as she felt relieved when she listened to his son. Evidently, Min Yoongi has improved himself these previous years by through learning day by day. She’s confident that Yoongi will be another good king just like his late husband.

The news about the Royal Marriage has been announced to the folks and they are happy for the King and excited for the next Queen. They have hung lanterns and decorations along the streets and market to celebrate the exciting week while the fireworks will take place later at midnight. The palace guards have light up the torch fire to brighten the mood around the palace. Whereas the court ladies have decorated the Royal banquet hall, King and Queen’s quarters and tidy up the bridal’s chamber.

The Sakura handkerchief he bought eight years ago is in his hand. The base is pure white but its colour has faded a bit. Nevertheless, the pink colour of embroidery still stays radiant like before. Yoongi caressed the handkerchief as it is his lover. It feels nostalgic, how strong the memory has stayed in his mind even though he had tried to vanish it. Without he notices, the corner of his lips lifted as he rewinds the memory. The soft thud came from the door, startled him who is standing by the window. “Your Highness, I am here.” Kim alerted his King. The soft chuckle succeeds to escape from his mouth. “Drop the formality, Taehyung. We shall have a drink like friends.” he walked pass Taehyung to keep the dear handkerchief in the chest. Only tea is being served for tonight, no alcohol as tomorrow is the King and Queen’s marriage. The Queen to-be has arrived at the palace this evening and the King being a shy man, avoided from walking out from his throne hall as he doesn’t want to collide with her.

“Aren’t you nervous?” Taehyung asked Yoongi as he pouring the hot tea into the small teacups, started the conversation. Yoongi who chose to stay quiet just nodded his head. “I know you still can’t forget that person but make some room for your queen. She deserves it.” a reminder left out his mouth as he wants the best for the King and the Queen. “Of course I will. She will soon be the mother to our—” Yoongi abruptly shut his mouth as the realisation hit him. His tip of ears becomes red as he’s burning with embarrassment.

Ha! I knew it. You already think about—” now it’s Taehyung’s turn to shut his mouth as he realised with who he is speaking now. “Please punish this commoner for being rude to you.” he quickly stand up before knelt down in front of Yoongi. The King said nothing but laughed out loud. His swordsman looked at him with widen eyes, frightening with the sudden change of atmosphere. 

“Since this is not liquor for us to drink until blackout, let’s drink until our stomach bloated!” Yoongi and Taehyung clinked their cups against one another to celebrate the night. It’s been a while since the King behave like this. Perhaps, he is now on the cloud nine as he finally will tie a knot with a Princess Y/n from Daeshin, a kingdom not to far from Joseon.

The next day, the streets crowded with the villagers from distinct class and status, wearing various colours of hanbok—from dark to bright colour. The upper class dress up elegantly while the commoners dress up nicely. The villagers are now on their way to the palace as they will gather at the throne hall to witness the Royal ceremony as well as celebrate the glorious newlyweds. The striking red hwarot is now on your body. The hwagwan and royal binyeo are placed on the gold tray, waiting to be placed at the front of your head and in your hair. Your body is moving slightly as the court lady is shaping your braided hair into a bun. Your chamber becomes as quiet as a mouse, only the rustles can be heard as you keep smoothing the front fabric of your hwarot.

“The Queen Dowager is here!” announced the court lady who is guarding the door. As the Queen Dowager entered your chamber, you tried to soar but she quickly asked you to remain at your place. “Are you doing good, princess Y/n?” she looks at you through the reflection of the mirror. The court lady named Yeon is carefully sticking in the binyeo to secure your bun hair from unravelling. You giggled softly, cover your mouth with the back of your smooth hand. “Your majesty, thank you for asking. I am quite nervous since I never expose myself to the public.” Truthfully, it is prohibited for maiden moreover the princesses of the kingdom to appear in the public of eyes. The Queen Dowager tried to soothe your feelings by telling you that the ceremony will run smoothly until the night where King Min and you will spend the night together. Her words made you feel shudder as a chill runs down your spine. You just smile at her words and your face started to heat up as you nervously thinking of tonight.

[miraculousmidnightreviews]

The Last Girl Review

The Last Girl: My Story of Captivity, and My Fight Against the Islamic State

By Nadia Murad

5/5 stars

While some progress has been made in the fight against ISIS, as argued by Nadia Murad in The Last Girl, the problems in Iraq cannot be clearly divided along a line that is determined to label every Muslim as a terrorist. In fact, Murad approaches the controversial topic from a new outlook: the rise of the Islamic State and its supporters has been years in the making, ever since American intervention took down Saddam Hussein and his Baathist institutions. She also explains the situation in Iraq as a religious persecution as ISIS targeted members of religious minorities living in the nation, including Murad herself. In her book, Murad not only argues for the dismantling of the Islamic State but also the humanization and protection of the innocent people who still remain under ISIS control. Her powerful memoir deserves more attention as it is a necessary read in order to fully understand the inner workings of Iraq’s many religious sects as well as a different and relevant, non-western feminist perspective of women living in the Middle East. Through her narrative style, Murad effectively persuades her audience of the need for religious acceptance of the Yazidi people and on a larger scale, the prosecution of the Islamic State for genocide.

Split into three parts, the memoir begins with a historical account of Iraq that explains the rise of ISIS. Starting with Saddam Hussein’s control over the nation and its eventual liberation by Americans in the early 2000s, Murad paints a historical backdrop that informs the reader of decades of political unrest and recurring violence, interwoven with anecdotes from her childhood and the days leading up to the ISIS capture of her village, Kocho. From the tension between political parties, like the Kurdistan Democratic Party and the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan to the growing separation between Yazidis and their Sunni Arab neighbors, one is lead to believe that it was only a matter of time before the temporary bubble of peace that Murad had lived in her entire life popped.

The second section of the memoir begins with the corralling of Murad and her village into the public school. That day, six of her brothers along with the rest of the male residents of Kocho were killed. Murad and the women and children were taken to a secondary location, where she and her young female relatives were separated from Murad’s mother. Murad would later find out that every elderly woman from Kocho, including her mother, was executed and buried in an unmarked grave. Meanwhile, Murad and the young women were sold into slavery, forced to become “sabaya” or sex slaves for ISIS soldiers and high-ranking officers.

After a failed attempt, Murad managed to escape for a second time and find a sympathetic Sunni Arab family that would hide her from ISIS. From this home, she contacted one of her brothers, who was outside the country at the time and able to smuggle her into Kurdistan controlled territory. While her brother worked to help their female relatives and other women escape enslavement, Murad became an activist against ISIS and human trafficking, later speaking in front of the United Nations and winning the 2017 Nobel Peace Prize.

An integral part of The Last Girl as well as Murad herself is the Yazidi religion, which should be protected and accepted across the world, as Murad argues. “Yazidis believe that before God made man, he created seven divine beings, often called angels, who were manifestations of himself,” according to Murad (27). One of these angels, Tawusi Melek (or the Peacock Angel), is the main being to which Yazidis pray and center their practices and celebrations around. However, many Muslim Iraqis consider Yazidis “devil worshippers,” scorning them and their practices for “reasons that have no real roots” in the stories of Yazidis (Murad 28). As a result of this hatred, “outside powers had tried to destroy [Yazidis] seventy-three times” before the genocide of Murad’s people in 2014 (Murad 6). It is this hatred and derision, Murad argues, that led ISIS to target Yazidis in their terrorist campaign. As a religious minority in Iraq, Yazidis relied on the relationship that they had with Sunni Arabs for protection. But as many Sunni Arabs turned to the Islamic State, Yazidis were left vulnerable to the whims of ISIS. As Murad conveys, the acceptance of the Yazidi religion, and religious tolerance on a broader scale, would further prevent the violence and persecution that often follows minorities.

In order to accept and protect Yazidis, one must first become educated on their religious practices and culture. Murad asserts that “Yazidism should be taught in schools from across Iraq to the United States, so that people understood the value of preserving an ancient religion and protecting the people who follow it” (300). In a broader sense, people who are better informed about Yazidism and its history as a persecuted community would be able to better help the Yazidis still under ISIS rule, especially the women forced into sexual slavery. The Last Girl is a moving story and a major contribution to understanding the role of transnational feminisms. It is important to note that while many Yazidi practices and the general attitudes in Iraq reinforce gender inequality, Murad is not arguing for a complete cultural upheaval of these practices and attitudes; she is pushing for what may seem like a small step to western feminists, but freeing the large Yazidi population of women still kept in sexual slavery is what is needed for the feminism that Murad practices, for the betterment of Yazidis, and for a longer path towards female empowerment in the Middle East.

Although Murad advocates for the prevention of Yazidi persecution through religious tolerance, she also wants justice for the crimes committed against her and her people. Murad argues that the Islamic State, “from the leaders down to the citizens who supported their atrocities,” should be put on an international trial for the genocide of the Yazidi people and other war crimes (300). Not only has ISIS executed the majority of Murad’s village, including her mother and brothers, but it has also committed horrific acts of cruelty and continues to do so today in the form of rape and other torture. Murad states that when she fantasizes about putting ISIS on trial, she sees her first rapist, Hajij Salman, captured alive, and as she further describes: “I want to visit him in jail [...] And I want him to look at me and remember what he did to me and understand that this is why he will never be free again” (177). For Murad, holding ISIS responsible for its crimes against humanity is not just for Yazidi justice, it’s personal, and reasonably so. No one should have to go through such unimaginable torture, especially without any form of justice.

In the epilogue of The Last Girl, Mura writes that “the UN finally recognized what ISIS did to Yazidis as a genocide” (304). But without a trial, justice does not exist for Murad and her people. Recognition is not enough. And the longer the UN waits to prosecute the Islamic State, more evidence of its crimes will continue to disappear. But for Murad, the time for waiting is over. Her memoir is not only a testament to her survival and her love for her people but also her unwillingness to let ISIS go unpunished. The Last Girl is evidence, Murad’s written evidence, of the Islamic State’s atrocities. As a survivor, this book is her way of holding ISIS accountable for its crimes. It is an act of defiance that will continue to be a relevant and necessary read for the public until ISIS is formally punished.

Murad’s memoir perfectly conveys her intentions through an effectively enticing narrative that urges the reader to better empathize with the struggles of the Yazidi people and understand the importance of prosecuting the Islamic State on a grand scale. Although this is not a revolutionary take on feminism, it is a compelling story that portrays a nation racked with terrorism in a new light. While Murad’s memoir educates as well as connects western readers to the plight of her people, it also highlights a path to resolving conflict in Iraq from the perspective of those who know the region and its culture best. In order to help her people, Murad argues that one must first understand her history and culture. While the punishment of ISIS is imperative, it is not enough to employ airstrikes on suspected terrorist headquarters. Organizations, like the Islamic State, will only continue to reform as violence, religious persecution of minority groups, and the poor treatment of women persists.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this review! Check out my other reviews here!

Credit: Murad, Nadia. The Last Girl: My Story of Captivity, and My Fight Against the Islamic State. New York: Tim Duggan Books, 2017.

[the-blackest-spider]

send me a misconception you think people have about my character and I'll explain if it's true or not. | Accepting

@inanisvitae​ left a message:  Misconception: that Nat is not exactly capable of loving, that she's mostly in for herself, that her past as a double agent of sorts makes her unreliable.

I am quite amused at how we asked each other similar questions for this. :) Also this is so damn long because I decide heeey let’s talk about canon and then briefly touch on headcanons other verse things!

Below the cut because yeah, looong post.

But this is, yeah such a very misconstrued thing about Natasha, because it is both true and not. Natasha has these lines that she has created throughout her life that she balances herself upon most of the time, but also crosses one way or another as she so desires or unfortunately needs to.

She very much loves and so very hard and deep. Even despite, depending upon the verse who created her and tried remove the capability from her to do so.

In her canon, the other twenty seven girls she started in the Red Room with, they were allowed to be friends, to get along and find comfort in one another and then one day they were taken for a training exercise in the harsh, unforgiving Russian wilderness with only enough provisions for one to survive. It was a traumatic experience, and while not much detail beyond that is given, I’d like to think that her “sisters” forced her hand, that the situation made them all realize that it was me or them and in order to survive, as us humans are predispositioned to do, Natasha (Natalia at this time) learned her first lesson that she could do what was necessary, even if it killed some part of her to do it.

It was probably that scenario that made her begin to develop that closed off, keep to herself defense mechanism that she has often displayed when it comes to how close she lets others get to her at first, even though all she wants is just a normal, every day, average connection with someone.

Another instance in her canon, from which this quote comes from. She was either fifteen or sixteen years old and fighting with worn soldiers in the countryside of Slovakia and there she met the first love of her life and probably, honestly given the circumstances the most tragic, Nikolai, who was not much older than she was. They married with ribbons for rings when she became pregnant and it’s figured that he was killed in action before she gave birth, to their daughter, stillborn because of the enhancements the Red Room gave her. She named her Rose and buried her in the Slovakian woods near the home of the midwife that helped her give birth and then ever since has visited the location throughout the years when possible (I headcanon she does it every Mother’s Day).

Then there’s her tryst with as she knew him at the time, The Winter Soldier or Soldier or Soldat, James Barnes. He was to train her to become even more of an asset to her Mother Country, but in each other they found refuge from their situations and taught one another how to love despite the world they were a part of. But then of course it all gets ruined as their affair is discovered and for punishment, the Soldier is frozen and stored away in a warehouse like some object. Natasha makes the mistake of trying to find him and does, the horror of seeing him in that cryo tank is a sight that would forever haunt her, and it was her fault he was put there.

Then her country decides to let her have a “normal life” of course under their wants, they allow her to marry a man, Alexei Shostakov, a famed pilot in the Russian army. But again, someone she cared about is taken from her at the whims of her creators, who decide that Alexei is to become Russia’s take on Captain America, Red Guardian, and thus a crash is staged that he perishes in, leaving Natasha as an actual widow for the second time in her life.

So, I reason because of all this and other moments in her history, that she is afraid to love people, to allow them to get close to her, because everyone she’s loved, something bad happens to them and clearly it has to do with their association with her. A Black Widow indeed.

But, at the same time, all these moments, as she says are the ones that taught her to love, and she keeps that part of her so very protected and safe because she values the ability to do so, she fought so hard and struggled to retain it after all. Most who would go through these kind of situations would probably be done with love and make sure to keep people away from them, to keep them safe and to a degree I think she does this, for a time, but she so badly craves love, that her walls fall down after a time and she instead does everything in her power to keep those she loves as safe as utterly possible rather than keep them at arms’ length or make them want to not love her.

Now all of that, was not really used in her MCU version, but still, obviously some stuff happened that makes her guarded and fiercely protect those she loves, that makes her so selfless to sacrifice herself for an entire universe.

The MCU shows how her balancing on those lines she has created, especially with her love for others can make her have to make choices that divides her or puts her in the middle of situations. Perfect example, Civil War. She wants to keep her Family together, she says as much to Steve after Peggy Carter’s funeral. But at the same time, she understands Steve’s stance. She respects it, because she cares about him, and even though she and Tony often butt heads, she cares about him too, which is why she berates him after the battle at the German airport to stop being selfish and thinking only of himself. She knows he’s better than that, she knows they’re all better than what they had just done Which is why at the last second, she made the choice to let Steve and Bucky escape, because for her, it was the right thing to do and she realizes in the mess of that whole conflict that none of it should’ve happened in the first place and she should’ve done whatever was necessary to stop it from going that far.

So yes, her actions in Civil War are a good example of her being in something for herself as far as love is concerned, but again it isn’t about her specifically, but her seeing the big picture of a situation, which draws me back to her comic canon and the fact, that when she has to, she makes tough calls and does, again as I said, what is necessary.

“If you could take Hitler out, would you do it? Sure. Yes. Easy. Most of us would. What about Oppenheimer? That’s when things get interesting. Could you follow orders to kill a man because the product of his genius would become a weapon of war? Could you pull that trigger? Yes. I can. I did. And that, as much as anything, is what makes me the Black Widow.”

As Fury tells Steve, in Winter Soldier, Natasha is comfortable with everything. She is willing to do the things that others cannot or should not do. She is willing to cross lines, do terrible things, horrors, to keep the weight of guilt off the shoulders of others and she could, even though it could possibly, literally kill her too, kill someone she loves because they’ve gone too far. Would it be a last resort? Absolutely. But, she could do it. Some would say that makes her heartless and cold, and they’re not wrong, but she is capable of many things, she is not one note or two note.

So Tony calling her a triple imposter, isn’t wrong. Because she is, she has to be, to be capable of what she is and to some, that does make her unreliable, untrustworthy and so on, because they don’t understand her, they don’t know her or everything she’s been through that has made her the person she is.

Natasha loves because of what she is capable of, because it soothes her soul (when she had one) and is the balm to all the terrible things she’s done that she would ultimately do again and does keep doing.

This all extends to the other two major verses I’ve created for her. In Star Wars, she tries to run from the man who uses her like an assassin attack dog, and treats her like his play thing, she finds escape a couple of times, but for one brief moment in her past she does with the man she loves, who trained her (my headcanoning of James Barnes/Winter Soldier for Star Wars) and is chased down by another operative and he is most likely killed as an example to her not to step out of line again. So she is of course so very reluctant to get close to anyone after that, but she does and she does everything in her power to keep them safe from her Master.

In her Final Fantasy VII verse, she doesn’t remember that she had a whole other life before she was a Turk, because Shinra ripped it from her and made her kill the man she was going to marry (which she also doesn’t remember properly), who was trying to desperately to give her the life he felt she deserved. But still she knows, she feels so strongly she is capable of loving and she’s loved before, otherwise why would she get these feelings? Why would she care about her fellow Turks and others she comes to know? Again, as with the Red Room, Shinra tried to make her into this weapon to be used, but they couldn’t rid her of her capacity to love. They can continue to try and control her with the mako injections and the lies, but they cannot change the core of who she is and will always be, a woman ruled by her heart.

The Red Room couldn’t do it, Palpatine couldn’t do it and no one else ever can either.

TL;DR: Despite all of the terrible things Natasha has been through or continues to go through in any of her verses or canon and the horrors she is capable of committing, she has a big heart, she loves both unselfishly and selfishly like anyone else. It is because of the things she has experienced that she loves, because it is the one thing that is important, and that gives her hope and makes her feel human even though she often doesn’t feel she is. But at the same time, do not let her ability to love make you forget what she is, she is a killer too and she will do what she has to do if it comes to it, if she has no other choice. And if you hurt someone she loves, there is no where you can hide or run that she cannot find you.

[bahoreal]

give no quarter

read on ao3 - 1500 words

When you die, how long does it take for people to forget you?

If they forget you before you die, is that the same as dying?

Lan Xichen bows to him and leaves to meditate by the cold pond. Meng Yao thinks that Xichen has forgotten him, the person that he tried to be before, the person who was always there to support Xichen and listen to him. The person who he was before Xichen found out all of his secrets.

Maybe being dead would be preferable to the feeling he gets when Xichen speaks with him. The cold shaky feeling that saps all the strength from his limbs that he gets when Xichen’s eyes flick to his lips, then away. When Xichen’s entire face and body language are closed off to him.

It’s unfamiliar. The man he knew best in the world, the man he should know best in the world. A stranger.

At least Xichen visits him. He knows Xichen’s mother was only allowed to see her children once a month when she was in seclusion. He cannot bear children, but sometimes he thinks desperately that just for the company he would adopt one, he would do anything –

This is his punishment, and Xichen is already too kind to him by coming to visit him.

He selfishly hopes Xichen is mourning for him, for them, for what they had the potential to be, before. He aches with his aloneness and selfishly wishes that Xichen had thought him important enough to mourn for.

He killed so many people, ended so many lives, but there were always people who he would never have dreamed of touching. People he let off, because he’s not a monster. He would never have truly harmed Jin Rulan, he thinks.

He’s hurt Xichen in ways he didn’t think possible. The one man who he made a point to never hurt.

He survived the Temple, and he doesn’t know if that’s enough to prove he’s worth redemption.

He’s worth enough to Xichen for Xichen to take him back to Cloud Recesses.

He had dreamed about Xichen dressed in red, he had dreamed about Xichen kowtowing three times by his side, he had dreamed –

At first, in Qinghe, he dreamed like it might happen. Later, when he rescued Xichen and they ran from the people who wanted to kill them he dreamed it like the ideal life he could never have. When he was accepted into Jin sect and knew marrying another Sect leader would make him no better than a kept woman, would make it impossible for him to reach any kind of status in Jin sect, he dreamed it in his weakest moments. When everything became too hard, when he couldn’t quite see the path on the other side of the person he needed to kill for his father or for himself, for whatever reason this time. When it seemed like nothing he did would change his fathers opinion of him, he dreamed of running to Xichens arms, to escape to a place he would always be welcome, to –

After Qin Su, he still guiltily dreamed of Xichen. He has never been one to ask others for help, his life and choices are proof enough of that. If he was capable of going to Xichen for help he would have gone long before he killed his sworn brother and his own son. But sometimes, in his darkest nights, he would dream that Xichen would forgive him for everything and find some magical loophole that would mean he could stay in power and marry Xichen instead and finally have the marriage he wanted, he –

He doesn’t deserve it.

He never dreamed that him marrying Xichen would come after Xichen finding out how broken he is, how low he can truly get. He never dreamed that Xichen wouldn’t meet his eyes through all three kowtows. That Xichen would take him to the same house his mother was imprisoned in for decades, consummate their marriage, then leave.

It hurts even more that his first time with Xichen was beautiful and heartbreaking. Xichen was kindness and gentle hands and passion. He didn’t say a word apart from “is this okay?” and “Can I keep going?” and one soft “Meng Yao” as he finished, his eyes screwed shut and his head on Jin Guangyao’s shoulder. Jin Guangyao wants to hate him for it. For his gentleness when he should be angry, for his use of a name that Jin Guangyao fought with his blood and sweat to change.

He wants to hate Xichen for wanting him since he was called Meng Yao and never telling him.

He left afterwards, his face closed and his shoulders hunched.

Xichen didn’t come back for two days after that.

Xichen hasn’t lain with him again.

He never dreamed this.

He wants Xichen to love him so badly.

He’s desperately looking for reasons that he’s not as bad as everyone thinks he is. He could have hurt more people, but he didn’t. He could have grabbed at more power, but he didn’t. He’s thinks he is redeemable, but he doesn’t know if Xichen sees it like that.

Maybe is Xichen loved him a little more or a little less he wouldn’t be here.

The days pass. He has too much time to think. He knows that is nearly the point, but he also knows he is missing the point. He doesn't regret his actions.

Xichen visits him sometimes. He is not allowed a guqin. He asked, once, and Xichen’s face shuttered so fast he almost got whiplash.

Obviously he is remembering what he did to Nie Mingjue.

He regrets that, most of the time.

He regrets how that has made Xichen look at him. It was necessary.

Xichen obviously knows that if he had his time over, if he could try again, he wouldn’t change. He did what he had to do. He would change Qin Su and Rusong, if he had known. He did what he had to do.

Every time Xichen is reminded of this he visits Jin Guangayo less for a few days. A few days more of solitary will not change Jin Guangyao's mind, but something in him softens that Xichen is still trying.

He reads books that Xichen lets him have. He restrains the urge to sneak out and get books that are not so dry they feel as if his brain is shrivelling inside his skull. He restrains the urge to sneak out and see the sky, be free briefly. Xichen wouldn’t know, he is practised at not being seen.

But this is his punishment. If he wants Xichen to love him truly, he needs to stay.

Every day he thinks of a way he could leave. Every day he thinks of another scheme to convince Xichen to let him go, to forgive him.

Every time Xichen visits he can’t bring himself to start any of them.

Xichen is hurting in a way he’s never seen anyone hurt.

Where would he go, anyway? Is it worth leaving Xichen, cementing himself as the bad person in Xichen’s story? He wants Xichen’s love and respect, and leaving after everything he’s done will only mean he is truly irredeemable. If he leaves Xichen without the chance for an explanation...

Xichen hasn’t asked him about any of it yet. He’s sure he will, he just needs time in seclusion to figure out his own thoughts.

Sometimes he wonders if his presence is stopping Xichen from healing. He wonders if him in Xichen’s mother’s house is a constant reminder that Xichen didn’t stop him, that Xichen had lived with one eye closed for years, letting him get away with everything.

He wonders if Xichen feels guilty about that.

Was that taking advantage of him?

He’s not sure. Xichen could have confronted him. Xichen could have found out easily, he just didn’t want to. And this is what it got him.

Jin Guangyao secluded in his mother’s house, him secluded in his own house, and the entire world talking about them.

At least the attention is off of Lan Wangji and his new husband Wei Wuxian.

The Lans are unlucky in love. Or maybe they just choose people who are too different from them, and that comes back to haunt them.

He could have been a good partner for Xichen in another life. If he was less driven, if he was capable of just asking for help.

Xichen always made him feel less like a bad person. No matter what he did, Xichen would always be there shining and unblemished by Jin Guangyao’s influence.

But now Xichen has saved his life, taken him in, and ruined any chance he had at a normal life.

His husband. His husband hates him and his husband loves him.

He’s ruined his husband’s life and now he won’t leave this room until he dies or until Xichen forgives him.

Until the world forgives him.

He’s going to die first.

[randomnessunicorn-imagine]

⭐ Cuphead Fanfiction~ ⭐

{ Hey-! A new chapter, finally. Actually, I am having a lot of fun in writing this long fiction. I cannot believe I was able to write all these chapters, wow! I hope you can appreciate even this new one! This chapter is very harsh (even if also the old ones were cruel) but it is the spirit of the story so the rating is always quite high. I have several ideas for the continuous after this chapter and I think I will add new characters so maybe it will become more interesting and variegated. Every kind of advice and feedback is accepted!

IF YOU WANT TO READ THIS STORY ON AO3

>>> 1st CHAPTER <<<

>>> 2nd CHAPTER <<<

>>> 3rd CHAPTER <<<

>>> 4th CHAPTER <<<

>>> 5th CHAPTER <<<

Pairing: King Dice x Neutral! Reader Rating: Orange/Red (some thematic in this story can be considered blasphemous and harsh)

~ Wicked Game #6 Chapter ;

Dice held your hand and you felt protected. You feared no danger. Nothing could break you, anymore.

As if you made peace with yourself and discovered your true nature. You were ready to cross the door of transgression and learn all the most infamous secrets that he was about to reveal. You wanted to know. Your mind burned like the flames that surrounded this Hell. Your veins pulsed stronger under your skin, and your heart was beating so hard that was going out of your chest.

His hand was soft and warm, you could not get lost until he was by your side. He guided your insecure steps making the environment around not so terrible.

Languages of fire surpassed the dark and infinite sky of this infernal hole. This was a damned place and forgotten by God.

A chilling scream blew through the folds of the wind, scratching your flesh. You clasped his hand stronger as if you feared that the wind could take you away. Dice looked at you with a paternal expression. A tenderness that did not fit with this diabolical landscape. You could not imagine that he was a servant of the devil. It was hard to believe. You found your lucidity again and you continued walking.

You had no idea where he was taking you. He wanted to show you something. These were his last words before you two started walking down this mysterious path.

All the souls in this place had a story to tell, they got their memories and you were their listener. You could not escape even if you wanted to. It was too late to come back, but you held his hand harder so you forgot your primal fear. Their stories were obscure and horrific and maybe your little mind would have been traumatized because it was something too painful to bear.

Stranger voices whispered through your ears and they said words of nonsense you could not understand as if they spoke a language that you did not know. It was true because they spoke the language of the dead. One day, not too far from now, you would be able to understand them and the things you would hear would make your bones frozen. Dice would be your personal interpreter so you would be able to understand the magical wonders of this world. He did not even know where to start this tale.

After sometimes, you have not even counted the minutes or the hours, and maybe here the time did not pass normally so time was useless, you and him stopped walking. In front of you, there was a group of people who crawled, screamed and asked for mercy. They were sinners, you guessed, they seemed left to their own devices.

Something was crawling on the ground and you did not realize that creature was so close to you. It touched you, screaming. It was imploring you but you did not understand what it said because its appearance was too horrible, so your mind blacked out. From its deformed mouth slipped out a trail of drool. You screamed at the top of your lungs while that creature was climbing up on your leg. Your sight was foggy; you jumped back trying to escape from its grip until another monster came out of nowhere. This demon stabbed the sinner with a fork and the crawling sinner yelled for the last time before falling unconscious. The demon took its body ignoring you and then it disappeared into the oblivion. This scene was so scary and abnormal that you lost your equilibrium and you fell. Your breath was stuck in your throat and you were unable to breathe properly.

These kinds of scenes were normal here and you had to get used to them. Seeing you so shocked, Dice got worried, he instantly kneeled next to you, caressing your face, and you found your safety again in his emerald eyes as he smiled at you whispering sweet words. The demoniac landscape disappeared, and your fear evaporated with the dense smoke created by the flames.

“I’m so sorry, dear. I know it hurts but it’s necessary… I didn’t want to traumatize you, I’m with you!” he said caressing your cheek. This was not a dream, you were walking through hell and horrible monsters wanted to devour you. He was right, it must be done and these scenes would become routines of your life. It was a sort of training, he wanted you to be brave, and you had to learn how to act cold and insensitive in front of the most horrible things.  

“N-No…it’s ok… It was sudden…” you said with a whisper of a voice as you learned how to breathe again.

“Are you sure?” his voice was serious but low, getting closer and his eyes shined.

“Yes…” and you actually did not care of the consequences because you had anything to lose.

“Fine, but don’t be afraid. They can’t hurt you, you’re safe.” Dice showed up a reassuring smile.

You were not a mortal anymore even if you were still confused and you did not know how to define yourself now. If you were a human or a spirit, and this was not the right time to question yourself with these existential questions.

With a firm and delicate gesture, Dice helped you getting up and your mind started working again and those questions did not stop tormenting you and you needed knowing more about this madness despite you were still scared. Ignorance made people more cheerful but unsatisfied.

“I’m so sorry…” you said realizing that you were behaving like a little child. You felt a little stupid.

“Oh, don’t be silly, dear. There’s no reason to be, others must say sorry here and not you.” and you forgot about everything. That fear abandoned your body, like if anything terrible had ever happened. His sweet voice cradled you and it sounded like melody to your ears.

“Uhm… Okay…” you said, nodding softly.

Subsequently, his smile became more malicious and he got even closer still caressing your soft cheek with his delicate and warm touch. His lips laid on the corner of your mouth, leaving a sweet and fleeting kiss. It was something tender and gentle, and you had not even realized it at first. Even this time, you were taken unprepared but you felt no fear now because you felt warmed. Your heart lighted up and your eyes went wide open.

“I thought you needed some tenderness and I need too.” he chuckled softly, studying your embarrassed expression and you tried to keep your cool but reading your thoughts was too easy.

This little moment lasted an eternity or, at least, you thought so, and it was pleasant and precious. A part of you desired it would not have ended and you had appreciated every one of his touches and words. Not that you were falling in love or something but it was a new feeling you have never felt before because anyone in this world has never given you affection, not even your mother. Some love, this was what you craved. To be accepted for what you were without hearing any insults or feeling the malefic whip of your mother on your skin, crying or screaming during the night because of a nightmare. Everything had disappeared and your heart kept beating again. Dice was right, and you truly needed it, you were too shy to express your thoughts and you were unaware of your desire. He truly read your mind and you were glad for it. You smiled tenderly, blushing and then he invited you to follow him.

He has not held your hand this time because you had to learn how to walk alone and be independent because this was a merciless place. Next time, he would not have been here to reassure you with his kisses and caresses, you had to survive alone.  

“What was that… Uhm… Thing?” you did not know how to define that creature who attacked you but you were curious and this silent made you uncomfortable.

“A sinner who likes misbehaving.” His tone was calm as if he said something normal.

Your eyes wide opened and you sighed because it was very strange.

You imagined all those horrible people like your mother becoming a monster like that and a weird feeling crossed your mind at the thought that you could become like that. It was awful. You asked yourself what those people had done to deserve this fate. How did they become so monstrous? Was it their punishment? A part of you wanted to know more about their past life and this world but another part wanted to run away as fast as it could but it was impossible. You could not escape or hide anywhere.

“It was running free… So they can run away where they want…?” you asked looking at him with a pair of worried eyes even if you were more confused than worried and the danger was already gone.

“I said it likes misbehaving but you have anything to worry. Or maybe you want to know something else.” and his smile became bigger and even the light in his eyes shined. His was not a question but an affirmation because he was able to understand you more than you could understand yourself.

“Well… I was wondering if I would have become like that, I mean… It was scary but also very sad…” maybe you had not already realized where you were and those sinners were not innocent.

“Ah, sweetheart. I truly doubt that you’d become like that. They had committed sins you would never imagine. It makes no sense pitying them, spare your sorrow for someone else.” He smirked, and maybe you did not want to know about their stories but the little and curious voice in your head spoke before your rationality could argue.

“What happened to it?” you asked to him and his smile became darker.

“He was a serial rapist and he had raped five women when he was alive. He had no mercy or scruples. Do you still think it’s sad?” his expression was serious and his voice glacial and low. Those words, the way he told them, their significance, were cruel and you did not know how to reply.

That man –even if you would have never defined “man” someone who did such an action- had committed one of the most terrible crimes. You did not know his name or his victim’s names but you felt guilty and sad for them. Maybe it was right; he was paying for his mistakes, so you had not to feel bad for him. Only the thought of it made you shiver but you tried to stay calm.

“There’s something more awful than that…” Dice broke the silence, since you did not answer, he kept talking, “Every crime is atrocious but as time passes by, you will learn how to act indifferent towards them and even your heart will stop beating.” He did not look you in the eyes, and he stared at the void in front of him. His voice was still cold and, despite you were in the Hell, you were freezing.

“I suppose there’s no limit at the worst.” You sighed and he nodded slightly.

The two of you reached another place, it was a desolated land full of demons and monsters. There were demoniac creatures who were torturing the sinners. You were able to read their expression of pain while they suffered the most horrible tortures that the Holy inquisition would only dream. This was quite sarcastic because Dice was about to reveal an awful truth you would never expect, or maybe you could but you did not want to realize it yet. It was a truth of hypocrisy and shame.  

His expression was disgusted and King looked those sinners as if they were excrements or horrid beetles.  Certainly, he did not estimate the men he was watching –and men was a euphemism since those creatures were not men anymore but something inhuman and indefinable.

“Look at them. How they crawl as the dirty worms they are!” you have never heard this tone from him, it was filled with repulsion and hatred. You looked at him confused and then he smiled at you and his expression mutated once again. Now his smile was warm and friendly.

“Do they deserve this?” you asked still staring at him and he kept smiling at you.

Dice thought you were still very naïve but not for too long. Because this world made people cruel and cold.  So many terrible things you would have seen and learn. It was never enough.

“Oh darling. You can bet it. They don’t deserve your mercy or any of your thoughts of benevolence.” He sighed looking at those sinners with repulsion.

“So… Who are they?” you asked trying to supress your anxiety but you wanted to know. It was time for you to get rid of all your insecurities.

“People you knew very well, I mean, you didn’t know them in person but I guess, you’ve confessed to them the sins you’ve not committed.” and your eyes blanked for an instant.

Maybe you did not understand his words and it was strange, you were not sure.

“What?” you asked again with a low voice.

“There are more Saints here than in Heaven” and he giggled, but his laugh was forced, then he said, “They were all holy men in life. Not so holy if they are here now…” he shook his shoulders. “Do you want to know what they did for ending up in such a place of damnation?” Dice’s smile became darker as he looked at you and his irises were green.

“Oh, I don’t know if I want to know…” you confessed and it was a cruel truth, for real.

“It’s a luck you’re not in their mercy anymore. I mean, those people are rotten!” then he started walking getting closer to the torture’s area and you followed him without saying a word.

There was a naked man seated on a big triangle, he was stuck there without the possibility to escape or move since his arms and legs were tied up. He screamed and his eyes were wide open. The spike of the big triangle was inserted inside his anus. The gravity did all the rest as he still yelled and wriggled.

“It’s called “Judas cradle”, it’s a classic inquisition’s torture. It’s ironic we have to learn from them, don’t you think, dear?” and he chuckled and his laugh was sincere this time. Dice found this situation so amusing. His laughs mixed with the inhuman screams of the tortured man created a macabre sound effect.

“I’ve heard about it… It’s very terrible…” you looked away because it was an horrific vision.

“They’re experimenting their own machines. Anyway, that man is new here, so he will have a lot of fun for a long time until he will got used to it.” Dice smirked enjoying the torture’s show.

“It’s so strange… I can’t believe that they…” your old world was falling apart, and everything you had lived until now was a mere lie. An illusion.  You did not know what to say.

“That man’s soul was very greedy and lustful and these are not features that suit to a holy man. But he’s not the worst, you’ll see…” Dice spoke and he moved on and you followed him.

A new scene of horror showed up in front of your shocked eyes. It was another sinner and he was being tortured like his companions. He was not alone because other sinners like him were keeping him company and their screams filled the hot air with desperation.

This was one of the most atrocious tortures ever existed and you did not want to watch it and their yells were enough to make you afraid. This torture was called “The rat torture” and, simply, the victims were devoured by rats, but there was more than that. There were two ways to use this torture, and it made the torture itself less boring and more brutal for the victim.

The first method was the easiest but it did not mean it was less painful. It needed a cage and a rat.

The unlucky man laid down on a plank of wood and his arts were tied up. The cage rested on his belly, and the underlying part of it was removed. The mouse inside the cage came into direct contact with the skin of the victim. Then a burning brazier was placed on the top of the cage. At this point, the trapped mouse, to escape from the heat, began to bite the victim's flesh, eating him alive.

The second method was even cruellest than the first because now the mouse was inserted in one of the orifices of the victim (it could be the vagina or the anus). Then the orifice was sewed so the rat could bite and dug the internal organs until the victim would die in agony or from blood loss.  

This torture has been reserved for this new sinner but for now he was being tortured with the first method but it was still painful and degradant.

“I’m so sorry, darling” Dice’s voice brought you into reality. Yes, it was a horrible reality but maybe his words would distract you from this scene.

“What?” you said confused.

“I’m sorry you’ve to watch this atrocity…” he confessed and why was he saying this after all this time?

“You said it was necessary…” you answered, and you were more confused.

“I know, that’s why I apology, don’t be mad at me…” his smile seemed so sincere that you felt touched. You truly did not understand his true intentions or thoughts. He was a mystery for you. This made you curious despite the anxiety.

“I saw worse… I guess…” you sighed and it was true because your mother was not different from the men you were seeing. From those sinners. She was a sinner and she would have suffering the same pain. She would have been tortured like them. This thought was pleasant because she only deserved the worst. Strange how you were unable to feel sorrow for her. You did not pity her and you did not care about her destiny. How she would have burnt under here. Somehow, you were glad she would pay for her crimes.

“You’ll become stronger after that…” he said, as if he was making you a promise. His voice was paternal and warm. This horrid scene did not fit with the relaxing feeling his smile gave you. Yes, you were distracted but not for too long because that macabre show was still in front of your eyes.

“Uhm… Who’s this man?”  this was a question you did not want to do. However, this tour regarded this. His expression mutated again and maybe even King did not want to give you an answer because this time the answer was about to make your blood frozen. Your heart would have stopped after that. Nobody was ready for hearing something like that. Dice himself was ashamed for confessing this dreadful reality.

With a cold voice, because he could not show his weak side, he told, “He was a predator. A children predator…” and your sight blacked out for a second as if someone turned the light off.  It was your mind, which did not want to realize this information.

He continued saying, “ He was the principal of a Catholic institute for orphan children. When he was alive, he abused more than hundred kids and his crimes have always been ignored. Nobody has ever denounced these facts so the victims have never had their justice. These kinds of stories are more frequent that you think. Priests just like every churchmen are considered holy and untouchable. They represent purity and goodness, the good in the world. The word "priest" reassures people's minds. Nobody would never doubt the person who represents God, the messenger of God. They are the bridge between the earth and the Heaven, and common people forget they’re still humans. They can sin like everybody else. Even I still shudder in front of this perfidy. I have seen atrocious things, but there are sins that overcome every level of depravity. The human being is a vile and despicable creature. Saints are the worst species because they are justified by their sanctity. They believe they aren’t guilty and that everything is granted to them…” he could say more than that but he took a break from his long speeches because you needed time to metabolize this information because your mind did not want to apprehend these awful words. Everything appeared so surreal and distorted and you lost your balance for a moment. You were about to fall when Dice picked you up before you could touch the ground.

“Oh, s-sorry…” you apologised without a reason.

“No reason to say sorry… It’s not your fault…” he did not expect you would react like this and his expression was perplexed. His soft hand caressed your cheek and he looked you in the eyes with tenderness.

“Uhm… I felt a little dizzy…” you sighed.

“Did they hurt you?” his voice was still paternal but it hid a sort of hatred, but this hate was not directed to you and you understood he hated religious people with all his heart.

“W-what? You asked, confused.

“I should’t have asked…” he said with a low voice.

For a moment, he imagined you had experienced the same fate of those poor children. Since your mother was violent and merciless it could be possible you lived this horrible experience. For the first time, you recognized real concern in his eyes and you just stared at him trying to explain your confused thoughts.

“No, it’s never happened. My mother was violent but she’s never gone this far…” and you sobbed because everything was too sad and you were unable to tolerate all of this for one more minute. You started crying, but your cry has been covered by the inhuman screams of the tortured sinners.

“Don’t’ cry, darling. Everything’s okay and here nobody’s going to hurt you.” and it was true because with him you would have never suffered. His features appeared confused as your sight was unfocused by your tears.

You nodded slightly, “It’s fine… I guess… I just lost control of myself…” after you saw all those terrible things, your mind exploded. You needed a rest, a break from all this madness.

“I think it’s enough for today. You’ve been brave….” He smiled gently and all the tortures you have seen until now and all the screams that echoed in the air meant anything compared to his smile. You felt comforted and relaxed with him and protected in his arms that all the atrocity that surrounded you made no more sense. You were not able to explain the feeling you felt for him. It was something tender and unique you have never felt for anybody else. A pure affection. Dice was a trickster and maybe his were mere lies and he was deceiving you but you did not care. Nobody had never been gentle with you so you would have not surprised if even his sweet words were bluffs.

After this moment of confusion, he accompanied you far away from this place so you could rest and find your rationality.

“Thanks…” you said, drying your own tears with the sleeves of your jacket.

“You’re welcome, dear but it’s not necessary. I’m glad you followed me in this path but I wanted to show you what the true Hell was. I’m sure you already knew, but you’re strong enough to bear it.” he kept smiling at you and all those atrocious voices were disappeared through the heat. Now you two were in a desolated land.

“It’s ok… It wasn’t a beautiful show but I don’t want you to feel guilty or something, I’ll be able to handle that… Reality’s never been easy to live anyway…” you sighed, looking down and then he picked up your chin smiling and he kissed your cheek tenderly. Your face coloured of pink, you were embarrassed and you did not still understand why he was acting so nice. Excessively nice, with you. if it was a flirt or a devious game of his to trick your mind, you did not find it out yet.

“Yes, I bet it! But I think it’s time to talk about business!” his sweet smile became more wicked and a mysterious portal appeared on the ground. He extended his hand and you grabbed it so the two of you jumped inside the hole and everything turned to black.

The scenery changed and you were not in the desolated and macabre land of Hell where sinners burnt anymore. You were in a huge and comfortable room. It was Dice’s office, you have never seen it before.

He invited you to take a place and you could not believe some minutes before you were observing tortured people and now you were in a rich and glamour place like this. You truly needed a rest!

“This day’s been hard and full of wonders, don’t you think?” of course, his tone was sarcastic because you would not define the things you had seen wonderful. “The tour took a lot of our time and I almost forgot about it, so we’ve to be fast now but there’s not so much to say.” He took a pause, sitting in front of you and he said, “I want you to work for me, are you in?” he asked, smiling wickedly.

“Work?”  you asked.

You have never worked before and you had no experience. You did not know any kind of profession and you were not outgoing and charming enough to work in a Casino. You did not know anything about games or tricks. No, it made no sense. Maybe he was joking!

“Yes, what I said, dear. Work for me!” he articulated every syllable but your reaction was the same.

“Uhm… I can’t do anything. I’ve no experience!” you answered.

“You can learn. Nobody is born with experience…” then he pulled out of his desk a paper. It was a contract but not a normal contract.

“I don’t understand…” you confessed.

“Actually, the job I want you to do is very special! You’re suit for it! I want you to collect souls for us but, before that, you must donate your soul to the Devil.” He gave you the contract so you could read it.

You still possessed a soul and you could still deny his offer if you did not feel ready or agreed with his request. This situation was too strange and absurd and you were unable to think rationally.

“Collect souls?”, it sounded like a folly.

“Yes, you’re very tired, darling. I understand… Anyway you can read it before you sign, I don’t want to pressure you. Oh, look at the clock! It’s very late!”

Yes, he was still a businessman so he wasted a lot of his precious time with you but he spent a good time. Dice did not regret it and he was glad you had this chance and he was the one who gave you it. He knew you would take the right decision.

“Oh… What I have to do…?” you asked, taking the contract.

“Uhm? You can stay here for the night. We can discuss about the contract tomorrow. You need a rest and I have job to do. You can read the contract and sign it and everything will be fine!” this last phrase made you shiver because his eyes’ gleam was threatening and maybe you had no other choice to sign. It was true that you were exhausted and you wanted to sleep so your mind would be able to think properly.

“I understand, thanks for the hospitality.” You nodded and your voice was filled with warm.

“You’re welcome, do you have other questions?” he asked and his smile was gentle now.

“Uhm… Where can I find my room. Where should I go?” you had too many questions but there was no time to answer to all of them.

“Oh, it’s room number 33. It’s at the third floor so you’ve to take the Elevator or you can use the stairs if you prefer. Here’s your key!” the gave you the key of your room and it did not seem hard finding it.

“Oh, thanks… I hope I won’t lose myself…” you put the key in your pocket.

“You can always ask to the staff, someone’s always around. You’ll recognize them! They know you’re new so don’t despair!” you nodded.

“Okay…” you hoped you could do it alone because the people you met in this place were too weird.

“By the way, we can discuss tomorrow. Don’t forget to bring your contract with you, ok?” he smiled, “Unluckily, our time is over but have a nice evening, I’m sure you’ll find very interesting people here. Our boss can’t wait to meet you, too.” his voice was curious and he laughed softly.

Your eyes went wide open at the thought that you could meet the Devil in person. You have not already seen him but he was just a busy boss. He had so many employee who did the job for him. The idea of meeting him made you scare but you decided not to express your thoughts and you took a step back.

This was the first day of your new life. It would be unforgettable and unique.

You crossed the door of his office, finding yourself in the corridor and now you had to search for your room because your only desire was sleeping. You just hoped you would not have dreamt those monstrous sinners who burnt in the vast land of Hell. Their terrible voices still echoed in your mind.

[everythingsouthasian]

My two cents on Bin Roye the drama Pt. I

*********SPOILERS GALORE*********

This interesting review of Bin Roye the movie (it was a lot more than just the movie, some great insights on South Asian films and filmmaking, go have a read!) triggered this post, so please bear with me.

It’s been a while since I saw both the movie (a really crap print) and the drama. I started out by watching the drama and then the movie and both had their pros and cons. I haven’t had the fortune of reading the novel so I’ll have to work with the Hum TV crew’s interpretations. 

Now, for the main article, the author of the post says:

There is a juicy concept at the film’s core - the love of your life chooses to marry someone over you, but then through a twist of fate is left with no choice but to end up with you regardless. Do you rejoice, finally fulfilling your lifelong desires, or do you admit to yourself that you are second best, a charity case, a logistical necessity?

Yes, the movie does, to a large extent, purport this. But if one were to carefully watch the drama and then the movie, the said “juicy concept” will essentially change altogether. From the drama, it is unequivocally clear that it is all about Saba Shafiq, our bratty and mischievous heroine, who gets embroiled in miseries of her own making. Everything that is said, felt, and reasoned is from her point of view. She is the driving force, the pilot, the hero in this adventure. As much as people want to make it all about Irtiza (Humayun Saeed fans), it isn’t. If it were his narrative, then the end product would be more boring than as it currently stands.

The film’s core focuses on Saba and her obsession with Irtiza. “Aapki mohobbat mere liye saza ban gayi (my love for you became the curse of my life),” she claimed in the climax scene. As her cousin and best friend since childhood who, to some extent, misled her with actions and words that lie in the grey area of care and love, Irtiza is not necessarily the villain on the show, but he is one to her. In their childhood, such adulation on Saba’s part to Irtiza can be attributed to childishness; but with age, when it only seemed to heighten, layers of complexity get introduced, not only to these feelings but also to the sanity of the person it affects.

Saba’s life revolves around Irtiza’s. She learns to make coffee, just like the one her mother makes that Irtiza loves, and cook and do all things homely just so she can get married and be the acquiescent wife to the person she loves with all her heart, i.e., Irtiza. 

(x)

“Jo mera hai, bas wo mera hi rahe (what’s mine should remain mine),” is what she wishes for in Eid. Irtiza then leaves her to go to study in the US where he meets her elder sister, Saman, whom he develops feelings for that are different from those he harbours for Saba. Even at this point, the narrative only glosses over Irtiza’s characterisation, not offering any reasoning for his choices or decisions. What’s shown of him is in context to Saba -- he cares for her in a way he doesn’t care for anyone else, she is still his best friend who gets to know first of his feelings for Saman, etc. Saba starts hating her elder sister for stealing Irtiza from her, for taking away a piece of her heart. 

Here’s where her obsession begins to take shape: 

“Aur har wo cheez jo use pasand hai, woh main apnaa chuki hoon. Tum meri jaisi mohobbat toh karke dikhao usse (The things he [Irtiza] likes, I’ve already accepted with all my heart. Try loving him the way I do).” 

For Saba, her time after Saman relocates to Pakistan is a hellhole, a ticking time bomb, acquainting with brand new feelings of jealousy bordering in on malice, all of which are alien to the naïve her. And evidently, she hates to realise this side of hers. 

(x)

And this is partially why she distances herself from Saman. Saba doesn’t WANT to feel this way for her sister. But her obsession with this idea of love for Irtiza is evoking the worst in her. “Amma, iss dil ka kya karoon mein, jo koi baat nahi sunta, baghawat karne ko kehta hai (Grandma, what do I do of a love that refuses to see sense and only wishes to rebel)?”

This pent up negativity reaches a crescendo when she curses her sister with death so that she can be reunited with her love, Irtiza (Mahira SLAYS in this sequence). 

(x)

This scene captures the essence of the movie -- the rock bottom people can hit for love -- Saba, the amiable, naïve, and straightforward girl demands God to take her sister away so that she can be happy, she can be with the person that was always supposed to be hers, all this confession in front of her grandmother!

Saba’s life goes downhill from here. She builds a fort around herself so high that even an eagle would find it challenging to pass. She turns hostile to people who love her because she is miffed with her life and her circumstances. The love of her life has moved on but she is stuck in the past. In order to regain some semblance of routine in her life, she enrols in college and even reestablishing ties with her sister, who now lives in the US with her husband, but she still bears a grudge toward Irtiza. He on the other hand is unable to fathom the 360 degree change in his best friend’s attitude. Try as he might to coax reasons out of her for it he meets with stern rebuttals. Saman and Irtiza even try to set her up with one of his best friends’ brother, who falls for her, but she voices out her disapproval strongly time and time again without providing concrete reasons. This leaves the entire family distressed.

[frankcmcclanahaniii]

Cosby Conviction

I have been reading many thoughtful articles and commentaries about the justice or injustice of the Bill Cosby conviction. Some criticize the fact that powerful predatory white men accused of worse conduct than Cosby have not been convicted or even charged. Others justify the Cosby conviction because Cosby famously admonished black comedians and rappers for offensive and disreputable behavior, as if he were an example of virtue, when in fact it appears he concealed his own personal vices for years. Thus, just as Richard Nixon was forced to resign in part for sanctimony and hypocrisy, Cosby deserves his comeuppance for his hypocritical preaching. Still others see injustice in the conviction independently of the proof purely and simply because Cosby is black, and the system of justice is and long has been rigged against black men. And some hail the conviction as yet another victory in the gender war being fought under the banner of “Me Too”. I hardly know the answer but I am intrigued by the hypocrisy argument because that argument focuses more on personal responsibility of the actor than on the fairness or validity of the system of justice. It is also the only argument that addresses the eternal tragic flaw of hubris through which the man who would be godly learns he cannot be a god. Bill Cosby was a very successful man. He preached personal responsibility and the kind of behavior that helps a great many successful Americans to achieve. His humor was not vicious or demeaning and brought laughter to millions. But, he was a man, and like all men, imperfect. Like most men, he may have had many imperfections, but his one enduring imperfection seemed persistent and incorrigible. In order to preach the virtues in which I accept that he truly believed, it seems he found it necessary to conceal his personal vice, and to suppress, pay off or otherwise silence his victims. He needed his carefully constructed virtuous persona in order to promote his commendable values. But it seems he could not escape his vice, because, after all, he was a man and not a god. In a way he had to pretend to be a god in order to do the good he intended, and so became inevitably drawn into the impossible dilemma that is his downfall. I am sorry for Bill Cosby, just as I am sorry for Oedipus. Unlike Orestes, whom the gods forgave, I doubt Bill Cosby will be forgiven, for his trials and punishments will be meted out by men, not gods. Like Cosby preached, I believe in personal responsibility but also mercy, because we all contain destructive flaws we cannot overcome. But I personally prefer to think of his story as a tragedy rather than the triumph of good over evil. Here is a sonnet on the subject: BILL COSBY The images we cultivate Are all illusions every one. No one remembers all he’s done. We reinvent in unseen ways Unconsciously. If others pay Attention to the spin we’ve spun It does not make our myth become The truth, no more than what polls say. The truth is more than we can spin And our detractors can attack. All legacies are bound to lack Some truths and add some falsehoods in. Forget the search for true intent. Men are not gods. Gods are not men. © 2018 frankcmcclanahaniii

[angio-seraphim-blog]

Can You Love Me?

i.m.flores

    One night, Celine Ysabelle Lopez Mendez, a happy-go-lucky daughter who came from a very wealthy family, was in a hurry to go home because she already had twenty missed calls from her mother. She knew that she will be scolded again for she went to her friend’s birthday celebration without the consent of her parents. While she was driving, her phone rang again and this time, it was her father. She panicked for it was already a serious thing when her father already calls. She quickly grabbed her phone and it slipped away from her hand. She tries to find it while she was driving but she cannot until she heard a big bang from the outside of her car. She stopped her car and went out to look what happened. It was an unconscious man full of blood. Celine was very frightened of what she saw and she did not know what to do. She has committed a crime and she wanted to escape. But, she wanted to help the man so she parked her car near a tree where no one will see her and then she grabbed her phone to call for help.

    It was already midnight when the ambulance of Care and Cure Hospital received a phone call from an anonymous person stating that a man (who is around forty years of age) was being hit by a car. The caller told the exact place and quickly dismissed the call. After a while, the ambulance reached the exact location and immediately carried the unconscious man. Then, Celine went back to her car and followed the ambulance.  

    Back to the hospital, Celine witnessed how the doctor tried to revive the dying man in the emergency room. She hid at the back of a wall for she does not want someone to see her. “Please, save him,” she whispered while she was shaking out of fear. Unfortunately, the doctor was not able to bring back the life of the man. After that, the wife of the man appeared and asked the doctor what happened. “We received a call from an unknown person saying that a man was hit by a car. Then we went to the exact location and brought your husband here. We tried our best. We are very sorry,” the doctor said. Celine does not know where to go so she ran out and went home.

    When Celine arrived, her parents were shocked for her clothes were filled with bloodstains. Celine cried very loud in front of her parents. Then, her father asked, “What happened?” but Celine could not answer. Her mother gave her a glass of water and asked her to change her clothes. After a while, Celine explained everything. Her parents were both lawyers and they were speechless for their daughter committed something that was against the law. Obviously, they loved their daughter so much that’s why they thought of a way on how to conceal everything. Her mother, Mrs. Irene Mendrez, asked someone to pay for all the hospital bills of the man and her father, Mr. Roberto Mendrez, on the other hand, ensured that no one saw the crime scene so he hired someone to check all of the CCTV cameras and paid someone also to erase all of the footage. They even disposed the car and phone that Celine used, so basically, they removed all of the evidences.

    After a week, Celine was still having nightmares and she does not want to eat anymore. Her friends were also worried because she does not attend their volleyball training too. But, her parents told their relatives and Celine’s friends that their daughter was just sick and that there was nothing to worry about. Celine was very sick and tired because of the lies of their family but she cannot do anything for she does not want to go to jail too.

    After a month, Celine was not improving. She lost her interest about everything, she skipped her meals that made her lose her weight and she was not talking to anyone except to her mother. “Mom, please help me, I want to free myself from these worries,” she pleaded. “Celine, let’s now seek for help,” her mother replied. Celine agreed and the next morning, they went to a psychiatrist.

    Celine had several sessions and she was also prescribed to take a lot of medicines. Her mom felt happy, because somehow, there was an improvement. Maybe because Celine tried everything to recover, she helped herself, and she thought of living her normal life once more.

    First day of school was fast approaching and Celine was looking forward for it since she missed school. She even bought herself an expensive bag. Next day, she woke up very early and entered the school early. But before going to her room, she bought hot coffee first. Then, when she was about to enter the elevator, Joseph Dan Serrano Cruz, a transferee student pressed the close button and Celine’s shoulder was hit by the elevator’s door. As a result, the coffee that she was holding got poured straight to her expensive bag. Celine got very irritated. “Are you blind? Or are you dumb?” she shouted. Joseph said sorry and offered his handkerchief but Celine threw it away.

    When Celine’s first class started, she was surprised because the one who ruined her bag was one of her classmates and accidentally, all seats were occupied except the chair beside Joseph so Celine had no chance but to sit beside him.

    During their break time, Celine’s friends asked her why she was so annoyed. She told her friends about the incident. Then, one of her friends told her that Joseph was a transferee student, intelligent, and cute as well. That moment, Celine agreed to her friends for she found him attractive too.

    One morning, Celine was having a hard time doing her Math assignment. Because of that, Joseph grabbed the opportunity to help her for he was fond of solving math problems. He helped her and Celine was very thankful for what he did. Because of that, they became friends already.

    As days go by, their friendship became really strong until one day Joseph asked Celine if she wants to eat first before going home. She said yes so they decided to go to the canteen. Joseph was a very straightforward man so he confessed his admiration to Celine already. “I do not want to ruin our friendship but I cannot help it anymore. I like you so much Celine,” he said. “I feel the same way too, Joseph,” she replied without any hesitation. Joseph cannot handle his happiness that’s why he immediately embraced the woman of his dreams. They were both overjoyed.

    The couple both excelled in school for they saw each other as an inspiration. Celine started training for her volleyball team again and Joseph always got high scores during exams. Also, they even had a nickname for each other. Celine called Joseph as “JD” (it was Joseph’s initials) and Joseph called Celine as “Ysa” (it was Celine’s second name and for him she was his one and only). He even gave her a promise ring which signifies his true love for the lady.

    Months later, Celine decided to introduce Joseph to her parents. But her parents were against Joseph, for he was not from a wealthy family. Her parents even told her to not waste her time with someone like Joseph. She got unhappy for he loves Joseph so much. As Joseph comforted her, he said, “It is okay. I will prove to them that I deserve their trust.” She felt relieved after hearing those words.

    The next day, Joseph introduced Celine to her mother. She got surprised for the mother of Joseph looked exactly like the wife of the man who died because of her. As she looked around the house, she saw the pictures of Joseph with that man. She was very nervous that’s why she told a lie. She told Joseph and his mother that she needed to go home already. Joseph offered to accompany her but she hesitated.

    When she arrived home, she locked her bedroom’s door and started crying (all that she did was to cry out loud while she was staring at her promise ring). But the next day, she decided to tell her parents about what she knew about Joseph’s father. “I killed his father,” she confessed to her parents. Her parents told her to end everything already. But, she did not like to.

    Celine did not went to school for three consecutive days. JD got worried for she was not answering his calls so he decided to go to Celine’s house but when he was about to go, he saw her sitting on a bench. Joseph approached her and said, “Ysa, what happened to you? I’m searching for you all the time. I missed you”.  Despite Joseph’s eagerness, Celine stood up and said, “Please, do not ever look for me again. Take this ring now. I am giving it back to you”. Joseph was very clueless about what was happening. He started asking if he ever did something wrong but when he was about to grab his girlfriend’s hands, she cried so hard and said that she does not deserve his love. “But why?” he asked. “It’s because I was the one who killed your father,” she answered. Then Celine told the whole story. After that, Joseph felt so devastated for the woman that she truly loves was the reason why he lost his father. Out of anger, Joseph said that he cannot accept her and that he does not want to see her anymore. The lady understood his boyfriend’s reaction that’s why she just wanted to disappear from Joseph’s sight.

    On her way home, Celine felt really upset while crossing the road. The driver of a fast approaching car did not notice her and when she saw the car, it was too late. The people witnessed what happened so they immediately called the ambulance. Many people gathered to see her while the ambulance was still not arriving until Joseph saw the commotion. He approached the crowd until he saw Celine’s pitiful condition. He held her hand, telling her to hold on. But she cannot handle the pain anymore so she uttered these last words while she was looking at Joseph’s grieving eyes-“I am so sorry, JD. I have no idea that he was your father. But now, I know that this is my punishment for killing him. Please do remember that I have loved you the best way I know how. Thank you for everything, my Joseph Dan.”

    It was already seven years after that accident but Joseph was still wearing the promise ring that he gave to Celine. It was still hard for him, for he lost two important persons in his life but he was in the process of healing now. He even became a successful author, but he was still visiting the canteen where they both confessed their love for each other because from that exact location, he was able to write his best-selling book entitled “Can You Love Me?” which was based on his real life experiences. The title of the book was also inspired by the initials of the love of his life, and that is Celine Ysabelle Lopez Mendez.

[enguardebitch]

top 3 twdg episodes?

1. No Time Left. Although this episode was shorter than all the others, and had parts where I felt were quickly glossed over just to get to the end, it doesn’t affect my utter love for this episode. In all the video games that I played, none really broke me like No Time Left did, and all the things that you did over the course of the season came to a point when you confronted the man who took the only thing left that Lee had, Clementine. 

All your relationships with the characters, all the arguments that you took a side in or even stayed on the bench, you see that they had an effect on the people around you, especially Kenny and Clementine. Even Ben, who is a determinate character in this episode, was given the chance to grow even after his potential death, and he could finally tell Kenny that even though he was suffering, so was Ben, so was everyone else, and that Ben was sorry for what he done. Behind Clementine and Lee’s relationship, the relationship between Kenny and Ben was my close second simply because of how this episode took it.

Even the villain was a well thought villain simply because he was just a man trying to survive in a world that broke him, just like Lee and Kenny and Lilly and Clementine and everyone else that we had met. He became a villain because of the actions of the main character and his group, the protagonist who in most games is saw as the hero of the story, and the episode twisted the typical role of the protagonist by having the villain rightfully telling Lee what he did wrong throughout the game. While some reasons are not as powerful if you played Lee a certain way, you most certainly felt the punch if you played Lee another way because the episode is basically telling you that this broken man can easily become anyone that you know and love, even the “hero” himself is no different to the “villain” because that’s the world they live in now.

Finally, the ending. The fact that we played as Lee, that we saw ourselves in this character and that we know that he is going to die, it does not make the actual event any easier to handle when it finally comes. When Lee is lying in that jewellery shop with Clementine begging him to get up, we find ourselves right there with her begging Lee to get up, to keep on fighting when we know that time is finally up for him. He simply has no time left. I have no doubt that most of the players, along with me, had cried when Clementine put Lee down/left him because he was no longer there. The player felt that loss just as much as Clementine herself did, and makes for a telling story and characters that you are able to get attached too.

2. Around Every Corner. Around The Corner was a pretty good penultimate episode for me, and that’s because it goes back to the fact that I made a lot in my answers. The choices you make all come together as in this episode when Lee has hit his lowest point, when he had lost Clementine. How you behaved to the characters around you and the choices you make tip the scales on who will risk their lives for you, and who will cut ties and stay behind. If you make certain choices earlier in the episode, Ben won’t even be there to help you save the little girl, and that’s because you didn’t save him. If you cut ties to people left right and center, you will find yourself quickly backed into a corner with no one there that you can rely on.

It’s as the episode says in the title, there’s danger literally around every corner, and it shows what happens to people who put themselves above the group or try to weed out the weak thinking that they cannot survive. Crawford was a dictatorship that decided that all people who were “weak”; the elderly, the children, the ill and the pregnant, they didn’t deserve the chance to survive, and looked what happened. One of the people that they saw as weak, that they wanted to force a difficult choice on to get rid of her unborn child, she turned and she lashed out, and no matter what Crawford spouted about the strong must survive while the weak will die, it doesn’t change the fact that their community fell because of the actions of a single “weak” member.

Also, this is the episode where Clementine’s development into who she is in the later seasons finally starts. She started to learn how to use a gun in the last episode, but she wasn’t ready mentally to actually pull the trigger, she had yet to learn that fear is what would get her killed and that she would have to confront that fear if she wanted to live. This episode is the episode where Clementine finally learns to pull the trigger, and the next episode concludes this by having Clementine take her first life. It’s a horrible lesson for a young child to learn, but it was a lesson that she needed to learn nonetheless.

Also, it introduces a character that, to me, felt like she was meant to be the action packed loner stereotype that you see so often in these types of games. Molly was introduced being able to trick the intelligent Lee and get the jump on him, even if this ends up with Lee managing to fight back, it says a lot about her that she was able to know that someone was watching her and then sneak around the newspaper stand while Lee was approaching her. However, this isn’t all about Molly’s character, she’s not just this loner type with nothing else attached who’s there to show how bad ass she is. Molly tried to be compassionate, and she shows multiple times that she is capable of empathizing with other survivors and do the right thing. 

She tried to save her diabetic sister, even going as far as allowing herself to be sexually exploited just to get medicine, and in the end her sister was killed and she left the community trying to push the “survival of the fittest” mentality. She attacked people who were creeping up on her and she didn’t know them, but she stopped when a little girl begged her not to kill her guardian, and then she saved the little girl and one of the grown men who tried to put a gun to her head. Even when Clementine was out of danger, Molly went and gave Lee the means to escape rather than cutting her losses and excusing herself by saying she did all she could. Even towards the end, she allowed herself to be left behind in a crumbling city so that people that she barely knew could leave with a boat that they found, simply because she didn’t want to put them through the hard choice of deciding who had to stay behind. She sympathized, while other survivors who were meant to be sympathetic because they were ill, like the cancer group, betrayed Lee no matter what he was like and stole the only way out of the city while the group left to rescue Clementine.

3. Above The Law. There were a lot of episodes that I really liked just under the top two, but I would have to admit that Above The Law would have to be my third choice. The other episodes in A New Frontier were alright, especially after Season Two, but they were fast paced and often I didn’t really find myself bothered with what happened save for a few instances, such as Mariana’s death. It was really Above The Law that I thought that maybe Telltale had took their mistakes from the last season and improve off them, and often it was the characters and the choices that improved the experience for me.

One of these good points were Joan, the villain of the entire season who was responsible for the death of Prescott, Mariana, and nearly killing Kate after she was shot. However, we see that she was doing it for the greater good, so that the community had the supplies needed to survive until they were able to reach sustainability, but there was something off about how Joan talked about her reasons. All the episode, we’re thought to believe that the men were under David’s rules because they were soldiers, they were his men to lead, and the last person I would suspect is this old lady who’s nice and welcoming to someone, even going as far as to explain why Javier couldn’t be accepted after he murdered one of their own, or was found to be friends with a known thief who and stolen from them before.

But at the end of the episode, I could hear something off about Joan while she was explaining her reasons, or even not at all if you don’t spare Max. She didn’t sound genuine, she didn’t sound sorry for what she did, but she was saying what the other leaders wanted to hear because they didn’t want to accept that she did all these things with a guilt-free conscious, especially faced with accusers who have blood on their own hands. She manipulates them into thinking she did everything for the greater good, and if the player chooses Javier to do some morally-grey things in the previous episodes, such as killing Rufus, killing Max, bludgeoning Badger’s head to mush, and acts unremorseful for doing what he did, it’s a case of choosing between two cases of grey, there’s no one clear case. The others would go for the candidate who didn’t murder their own and break rules by getting their brother back into the community after he was exiled. This characterization is what made Joan compelling, until all of the next episode undid that just like it did with Carver in the last season. 

The choices in this episode, while some were anti-climatic, such as with the choice of keeping Mariana’s death to yourself not doing much besides pissing David off for a while, but other choices do affect the story in some way, until once again the next episodes undo all of it. Saving Max is one of the big ones for me, because I noticed that it’s one of the times in both this season, and any choice in the last season, where if Javier chooses to put his trust into someone else, to show compassion even to the face of someone who wronged him, he wasn’t punished by the person turning around and stabbing him in the back. Max did what he said he would do for Javier, he came out about all of Joan’s plans even when the punishment for this was him being exiled or even killed, and while Javier and David are still arrested, it’s not because Javier was wrong for choosing to spare someone but rather that Joan is a masterful manipulator in this episode and knew what to say to make her seem like the one in the right.

It’s like the choices in Season One, it’s harder to spare a life than it is to take a life, especially when you live in a world where taking a life may put you in a better situation. Showing compassion means that you still have your humanity, and you still have something to live for in a harsh world.

[basicsofislam]

ISLAM 101: Muslim Culture and Character: Morals And Manners: Part 19

TEASING AND MOCKING

The Qur’an commands that people should not make fun of, embarrass, or ridicule one another, nor call each other by unbecoming nicknames. This is an important principle if there are to be good relations among people in a community.

O you who believe! Let not some people among you deride another people, it may be that the latter are better than the former; nor let some women deride other women, it may be that the latter are better than the former. Nor defame one another (and provoke the same for yourselves in retaliation), nor insult one another with nicknames (that your brothers and sisters dislike). Evil is using names with vile meaning after (those so addressed have accepted) the faith (– doing so is like replacing a mark of faith with a mark of transgression). Whoever (does that and then) does not turn to God in repentance, (giving up doing so), those are indeed wrongdoers. (Hujurat 49:11)

Here I will address the issues in this verse, using Elmalili Hamdi Yazir as a source, but attempting to simplify his ideas. After the verse opens with a call to believers to conscientiously treat each other well, it inspires believers to do so with the great- est sincerity, indicating that this will make it possible for many more nations and people to perceive and accept the beauty of Islam. Then, this verse goes on from generally fostering brotherhood to teaching people the adab of how to treat each other, both face to face and when apart. There were several events that occasioned the revelation of this verse: 1. According to a narration from Dahhaq, several people from the tribe of Banu Tamim teased and mocked Companions like Bilal al-Habashi, Habbab, Ammar, Suhayb, Abu Dharr, Salim, and Mawla Hudayfa.

2. Aisha said she used to tease Zaynab bint Huzayma al-Hila- liyya for being short. Likewise, she and Hafsa talked between themselves about how short Umm Salama was. 3. Ibn Abbas relates that Safiyya bint Huyayy once came to the Messenger and said, “The women call me ‘Jew, daughter of a Jew’ to tease me.” The Messenger replied, “Why do you not reply, ‘My father was Aaron, my uncle was Moses, and my husband is Muhammad’?” 4. Thabit ibn Qays was partially deaf and therefore when he was near the Prophet, other people would let him through the crowd so he could come closer to hear. One day he came and started going through the others, saying, “Move, make room.” One man did not pay attention, and Thabit became offended and asked, “Who is this?” The man told him his name. The other retorted, “No, you are the son of the woman who—” attributing him to a woman known for indecency. The man was embarrassed, and when this verse was revealed, Thabit never talked about nobleness by birth again. 5. Ikrima, the son of Abu Jahl (Islam’s most determined enemy), became Muslim, but he was called “Son of the Pharaoh of the community of believers.” This upset him and he told the Prophet about it.41 According to Qurtubi, to mock someone means that one is looking down on them, insulting them, putting them down, and talking about their faults in order to ridicule them. Razi says from a community point of view, mocking another person means “showing one’s believing brother or sister less than their deserved respect and honor, approaching them in an uncomplimentary way.” In the above verse, the words qawm (tribe) and nisa (women) are used, which in Arabic denotes the men and the women of the community. There are other linguistic clues as well which prove this. The concept of the community is important in this verse in several ways:

1. It serves as a reminder that Islam is not a religion solely for private practice, but is meant to be lived as a community. 2. It shows that mocking others can cause serious problems and individuals must cease to practice such behavior. 3. The verse also implies that this action or habit on the part of one individual becomes like a sickness that affects the whole community, as a person who mocks others will always have some hangers-on laughing at the jokes and try- ing to become their friend by doing the same. If any question remains as to why such actions are forbidden, every believer should be concerned about the final reason: It may be that, in God’s sight, the one who is mocked is actually better than the one who is mocking. For we can only know the outer appearance of others; God alone knows their hearts. We are not capable of knowing what level of value a person has in front of God. Therefore, no one has the right to belittle, look down on, or make fun of another person because of some outward appearance or action; this may be misleading. If the person we mock is greatly loved by God and we show them disrespect, then surely we will have wronged our own soul as well as that of the person. In other words, making fun of others is wrong in two ways: First, if a Muslim mocks another believer, they are mocking themselves, since we are all like one body. Second, if a person does something shameful, it brings shame most of all on their own soul. Thus, the verse can be paraphrased like this: “Do not mock, embarrass, or belittle believers; for to do so is to mock, embarrass, and belittle yourself.” Or, if we look at it from the second aspect, “When you make a fool of someone or demean them, the result is that you have made a fool of yourself and besmirched your own name.” In other words, the first meaning is more to do with brotherhood, while the second meaning pertains to the honor and dignity of our individual soul.

A nickname is given either to honor someone or to bring them down in some way. The verse uses the word nabz to refer to epithets with derogatory meanings; these are forbidden. On the other hand, it is permissible to give or use positive epithets. According to Kashshaf, the Prophet said, “One of the rights of a believer over his believing brother is to be called by the name he loves most.” This is why giving a beautiful epithet is Sunna, in accordance with the Prophet’s example. Some of the Companions had such kunya, or respectful but intimate names. Most societies have such epithets. But any kind of derogatory term of abuse should be avoided. Calling someone by a derogatory name is fisq, or deviant, immoral behavior, so a person doing this is considered to be ignoring the ethics of Islam. This is a very serious situation for anyone to find themselves in. Knowing that this brings serious punishment and a state that is less than true practice and belief, one should actively and carefully avoid calling other people names or mocking them.

MAKING A MOCKERY OF FAITH

Another related topic addressed in the Qur’an is a type of hypocrisy. This occurs when people act one way while with believers, but make fun of the believers when they are not with them, thus showing their hidden identity. Just as believers should not make fun of one another, they should also exercise common sense and avoid making themselves the butt of others’ jokes by speaking of their beliefs among people who may mock them once they leave. In Sura Baqara it is written: When they meet those who believe, they declare (hypocritically), “We believe”; but when they are alone in secret with their (apparently human) satans (to whom they hasten in need to renew their unbelief and their pledge to them for fear of losing their support), they say, “Assuredly we are with you; we only mock (those others).” (Since what they do only means demanding straying and ridicule,) God returns their mockery, leaving them to wander blindly on in their rebellion. Such are the ones who have bought straying in exchange for guidance, but their trade has brought no profit, and they have no way out to escape it. (Baqara 2:14–16)

There is no question about how despicable this kind of behavior is moral; such people cannot be called believers. They show a friendly, fawning face toward believers while they are with them, but only so that they can hide their true, malicious intentions. Then when they get together with the evildoing mischief-makers, they say, “We are true with you and were only acting; trust us.” The more they swear their allegiance, the more they are actually confirming their treachery, pitting themselves against the believers with their fellow conspirators. Such an action is against basic decency and morality, as these people are mocking and devaluing belief itself; thus, it is easy to understand why such an attitude is one of the markers of unbelief (kufr). To ridicule someone, even in jest, means to violate their honor and dignity. Most people who make fun of believers do not have the courage to insult them; if they do, then insult reflects badly on the person uttering it, not on the one they are insulting. But when people insult believers, God and the whole universe will hold them in contempt, whether they realize it or not, even if they think that their action is concealed. Without a doubt, it must be the greatest burden to have such a thing on one’s conscience.

[thescienceofapologetics]

SIX MAJOR PROBLEMS WITH THE SHACK

Though you might be swayed into thinking the god of The Shack is the same as the God of the Bible, there are several problems that arise if we take a close look at The Shack. Here are six concerns that develop as Mack converses with William P. Young’s caricatures of the Trinity.

Problem #1: According to Young, justice and love are at odds and cannot be reconciled. 

He reasons that God will never judge people for their sins because He is limited by His love. Neither will He enact eternal judgment upon those who reject Him or send anyone to torment in hell. But why would Jesus Christ die a criminal’s death on the cross if not to save us from something? What a wasteful and pointless act it would be if Christ did not take on our just punishment, the wrath of God, for our sin. We cannot remove the wrath of God from Scripture. It is as surely a part of His character as His love and mercy are. But God’s wrath is not a human anger that flares up because of wounded pride or envy. His wrath is not self-indulgent, but rather, as theologian J.I. Packer says in his book Knowing God, “a right and necessary reaction to objective moral evil. God is only angry where anger is called for. . . . all God’s indignation is righteous.” The Bible is very clear about why Jesus came to earth, humbly taking on the very nature of a servant (see John 3:16-18, Philippians 2:6-7). Jesus Himself warned about the coming judgment and hell, commissioning His followers to proclaim the Gospel that the lost might be saved—that they might choose life (see Matthew 25:31-46, Revelation 21:6-8). Ultimately, that is what every person must do: Either choose salvation through the atoning blood of Jesus or choose the wrath of the righteous God. Would Mack really want a God who would not punish evil? Would he be okay with a God who would not exert justice for the evil done to his daughter? Would God be good and loving if He said to Mack, “We’ll just let this slide”? Of course not. He shows us His love by both punishing sin and providing us with an escape: “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). He is “the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished” (Exodus 34:6-7).

Problem #2: Another theme in The Shack that doesn’t square with the Word of God is the idea that God forgives all of humanity, regardless of whether or not they repent and believe in the redeeming work of Jesus.

It is an idea rooted in universalism—the belief that all roads lead to God and that Jesus is walking with all people in their different journeys to God, whether they call Him Jesus or Buddha or Allah. In fact, Young asserts that there is no need for faith or reconciliation with God because all people will make it to heaven. The Bible is very clear that only those who call on the name of Jesus will be saved: “Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12. See also 1 Timothy 2:5, Romans 10:9). Universalism is a dangerous and malicious lie. It leads people to think that it doesn’t matter what you believe, sin is not really a problem, and there is really no need for a Savior. Universalism single-handedly destroyed Christianity in much of Europe, and universalism is working hard to destroy the faith of remnant believers in the American church today. Jesus is not the same as Buddha or Krishna; He does not hide behind such false and impotent gods. He became flesh and dwelt among us that we might know Him. He wants us to know the one true God. He wants the glory that He deserves, for He alone is God: “I am the Lord; that is my name! I will not yield my glory to another or my praise to idols” (Isaiah 42:8). Are you willing to risk your eternal future on feel-good fluff? Sin is real. It is rebellion against God, and it requires justice. God’s justice and wrath were poured out on Jesus Christ to reconcile us to the holy God (see 1 Peter 2:24-25). But we must have faith in Jesus, confessing His lordship and believing in His resurrection.Jesus calls out to us, “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it” (Matthew 7:13-14). Beware of the “broad road” theology of The Shack.

Problem #3: In The Shack, the god character tells Mack that “submission is not about authority or obedience” and that the Trinity is even submitted to Mack

The Bible in its entirety points us to the need to submit to God. Submitting is by definition yielding to the authority of another. God created man, and man cannot dictate terms to God. As Isaiah 29:16 says, “You turn things upside down, as if the potter were thought to be like the clay! Shall what is formed say to the one who formed it, ‘You did not make me’? Can the pot say to the potter, ‘You know nothing’?” God does not answer to us; we answer to God. In this way we remain in His love: “If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete” (John 15:10-11). Submission is about obedience, and that’s because obedience is ultimately about love. Jesus Himself said, “Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching” (John 14:23). To minimize obedience is to minimize love for God.

Problem #4: Young alleges that the Bible limits God, implying that it was man who reduced God’s voice to paper: “Nobody wanted God in a box, just in a book”

Thus the Bible is portrayed as inadequate to know God. If the Bible were simply a book written by man, then it would be about as useful as The Shack. However, the Bible was written over the course of about 1,800 years with many different authors all inspired by the Holy Spirit. They all through various time periods and life experiences tell the same story, pointing us to the Messiah—Jesus, who is the very Word of God made flesh (John 1:1-4, 14). It is through Scripture that God chose to reveal Himself to us. The Bible is a divine product. Jesus Himself trusted the Scriptures and used them to teach about Himself (see Luke 24:44-47). If the risen Lord values, trusts, and feeds on the Bible (see Matthew 4:1-11), should we not also look to it as the saving Gospel it is? Let us therefore heed Paul’s words: “Continue in what you have learned and have become convinced of, because you know those from whom you learned it, and how from infancy you have known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” (2 Timothy 3:14-17)

Problem #5: The God portrayed in The Shack seems casual and unconcerned with holiness, which is inconsistent with what we see in the Bible.

Mack’s troubling disrespect and disregard for the Trinity would be impossible if he had encountered the sovereign, holy God. By presenting a god wholly different from the true God revealed in the Bible, Young mocks the importance and uniqueness of the Word of God. He makes the Bible equal to or less than whatever personal imagination anyone might have of God. Mack did not encounter the Holy God of heaven and earth in the shack, but a created god who is controlled and manipulated by man—like an idol that is put away in a closet and brought out when needed. The Shack exchanges “the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like a mortal human being” (Romans 1:23). While it’s a righteous desire to want to know God, Mack’s fictional experience of encountering God is demonstrably inconsistent with what we see in Scripture. It's also a poor sequel to the true story we already have of God’s interactions on earth through Jesus Christ. When Moses asks God to show him His glory, God warns, “You cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live” (Exodus 33:20)—such is the dangerous magnificence of the Father’s glory. We must be careful of assigning any image to Him that diminishes His holiness. In Scripture, when people face the Lord, they fall down in repentance and worship. Isaiah’s response was: “Woe to me! . . . I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty” (Isaiah 6:5). When John is swept up to heaven in a revelation from God and sees the glorified Jesus, he falls at His feet “as though dead” (Revelation 1:17)! When Job was confronted by the Lord as He laid out His majesty, Job replies, “My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:5-6). God is awesome, and we simply cannot stand in His presence. Neither can we live without Him.

Problem #6: In The Shack, Young tries to answer the important personal question of suffering—and he thinks the answer is to change who God is.

But God has already answered this question perfectly according to His true and unchanging character. He answered it with the Gospel. He answered it on the cross. He answered it through Jesus Christ our Lord. As we carefully consider the ideas presented in The Shack, the greater question we must ask ourselves is: Am I willing to accept God’s gift of eternal life as it is revealed in Scripture? Am I willing to accept God’s salvation the way He provided it—even if I want something else that accommodates my wishes, desires, and emotions? Am I willing to accept Truth over what makes me comfortable, realizing that Truth is what I need—for it alone leads to eternal life? We must not allow ourselves to be swayed by emotionalism. We must instead be like the Bereans, who “examined the Scriptures” rather than readily accepting what they heard as Truth (Acts 17:11). Because no story, no matter how compelling, can ever improve upon God’s story of redemption in the Bible.

Beloved, the best place to meet God is not at the shack, but at the cross. For the Gospel is the greatest story ever told, and better still, it is true. [x]