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tetragonia · 2 months

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A Wave of Feelings

Rafe Cameron x F!Pogue!Reader

Blurb: Rafe and (Y/N) got into an argument for God knows how many times, about literally anything when they breath the same air, ranging from a small accident to a heated one about their cultural beliefs. But something in the air was different this time. Or was it only in the air? Not something in their heart and mind when the two of you finally realize something big that could change your lives?

Note: I have always wanted to write an angst especially for this character and it has occurred to me one day that arguing/miscommunication plot is kind of my fave trope so here we are lol.

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, argument, bad writing lol English isn't my first language. also, soft!Rafe in the end!

Words: 1490

The sun hung low over the Outer Banks as Rafe Cameron and you found yourself embroiled in yet another heated argument. This was clearly not the first time you both got into an argument. Some of them were heavy like that one time when your best friend asked you to go to the party just to talk to Rafe (which she did) but then he dumped her after the party and she cried for weeks on your shoulder, or some Kook-owned properties that limited your access, or some insulting banter between Rafe and your friends (that got you realized how much he hated JJ).

But most of the time it was just about silly things: when he knocked up your beer accidentally, when you sailed in front of him and accidentally splashed some water (it didn't even make his already oily hair wet), or when you were napping in a near beach and he claimed that it was his territory (he was in the Cut area, for God's sake!). You two always found a way to argue.

This time, your voices clashed like crashing waves, echoing off the walls of the old shipwreck where you had sought refuge.

"You're impossible, Rafe! Always acting like you own this place, roaming around thinking that you're so much better than us Pogues," you exclaimed, your voice tinged with frustration. Pogues always owned this place, not some rich snobby kids like him, you thought.

Rafe's jaw clenched, his temper flaring and pride wounded. He hissed, "Maybe if you Pogues have some ambitions, you wouldn't be stuck in the same place your whole life!"

Oh, this was definitely one of those heavy arguments.

Your fists clenched at your sides as took a step forward. Your voice trembling with emotion. "You have no idea what it's like to struggle, Rafe. You've always had everything handed to you on a silver platter."

For a moment, you needed to convince yourself that you saw Rafe's gaze softened. You wanted to believe that a flicker of remorse crossed his features before he quickly masked it with a defiant glare. "At least I don't have to scrape by just to survive. Maybe if you Pogues worked harder, you'd actually amount to something."

His words struck deep, a painful reminder of the challenges you and your community faced every day. You recoiled as if struck by a lightning, your eyes stinging with unshed tears and your face was red, "You don't know anything about me, Rafe. You don't know what I've been through."

Your argument drew the attention of Sarah who was nearby with John. She was one of your best friends and you felt nothing but pity every time you realized that she shared the same blood with Rafe. With a furrowed brow, she stepped between you two, her hands raised in a gesture of peace trying to calm you down.

"Hey, what's going on here? Can't you two go five minutes without arguing?" Sarah pleaded, her voice filled with concern and annoyance. She must be tired with all these arguments, you thought. But those were all about Rafe's incapability to control his temper! And that might or might not be your issue as well...

Rafe shot you a scorching glare before turning his attention to Sarah. "Stay out of this, Sarah. This doesn't concern you."

Your eyes flashed with defiance as you stepped forward beside Sarah. "You're the one who concerns everyone with your existence!"

"What did you say to her, Rafe?!" Sarah looked at you with a concern. You were one of her strongest friends and she rarely saw you tremble like this. "Come on, talk it out like an adult, will ya!"

Rafe's fists clenched at his sides, his frustration boiling over. "Talk? What's there to talk about? I said, stay out of this, Sarah."

His gaze turned to you, "You think you know everything, (Y/N). Being the weaker one of the community, blaming us for having some money. If you said that I don't know anything about you, then you also don't know anything about me!"

His words cut like a blade across your pain. Your expression softened, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes and you were not sure whether Rafe realize that or not. "Let's just cut it out. You would never understand what I've been through. What we have been through. Let's go, Sarah. Let's get out of here."

Sarah watched the exchange with growing concern, her heart aching for her brother and her best friend. She knew there was something deeper at play here, something that neither of them wanted to admit.

"Come on, you two. Let's take a step back and calm down, especially you, Rafe," Sarah suggested, her voice gentle yet firm. She glared at his brother. His face was as red as you, his forehead frowned deep.

You and Rafe exchanged a wary glance before reluctantly exhaled a deep breath. As much as you hate him, as much as you didn't want to admit, you really want him to apologize. The tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a palpable sense of unease.

Sarah sighed, running a hand through her hair as she tried to find the right words. "Look, I know things have been tense lately, but I really can't bear another sight of you guys bicker over things. If you still want to do that, please not where I can see you. I need you two to be in your best behavior when I'm around. Especially with you, Rafe. I have enough of you already."

Rafe's gaze softened as he looked at his sister, a pang of guilt tugging at his heart. "You're right, Sarah. I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."

Sarah still held her concern, but she relieved to see them finally finding common ground. "It's okay. Now I'll leave it up to you. I can't mom you around like this, geez."

She walked away from you both. She lived long enough with both you and Rafe and there was no way she did not realized that beneath the surface, there was a different kind of tension simmered—a tension born from unspoken feelings and unacknowledged desires.

You stood still, refused to meet his gaze. The wind blew your hair as the sun began to set. You started to feel the chill and instinctively hug your own body, fixing your shirt together. You accidently drew a sharp breath when a cold wind sent chills down your spine. You sniffed and looked over the horizon. Refusing to take even the tiniest glance at him, you kept looking at the sea while stroking your upper arm.

Despite the heat of your argument, Rafe couldn't ignore the way the cold seemed to seep into your bones, making you appeared small and vulnerable against the vast expanse of the beach. His heart ached at this view.

You didn't see that he wanted to reach out, to wrap his arms around you and shield her from the biting wind; his hesitation to offer you warmth and comfort in the midst of your argument.

But his pride held him back, a barrier he had built long ago to protect himself from vulnerability and pain. Yet now, standing on the windswept beach with you before him, he couldn't ignore the truth any longer.

With a heavy sigh, Rafe took a step forward, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. "(Y/N), I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. I was out of line."

Your eyes widened in surprise at Rafe's apology, your anger momentarily forgotten as she regarded him with cautious curiosity. You had expected him to be stubborn, to be the usual Rafe: to dig in his heels and refuse to back down. But instead, here he was, standing before you with such humility you'd never seen before.

For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, the only sound the crashing of the waves against the shore. And then, slowly, hesitantly, you took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

"Rafe," you said softly, your voice barely audible above the wind. "Thank you."

And with that, Rafe's resolve crumbled completely. Ignoring the voice of doubt in his mind, he opened his arms and pulled you into a tight embrace, provided you with the warmth of his body against yours. He could feel the softness of your hair against his cheek and he kissed your head softly it almost gave you a heart attack.

So you were not hallucinating all this time. The glances, the gestures, the underlying concern for her.... He felt the same way, too.

In that moment, with the cold wind whipping around them, you knew that he had finally acknowledged his feelings for you. And as you stood together on the windswept beach, you both vowed to never let your pride stand in the way of your connection again.

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blue-devil-of-the-lord · 16 days

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Hey there~ If you are still taking requests for Kurt Wagner imagines/scenarios, can I suggest one with a mutant who has plant powers? Plant manipulation is my go to power. Nothing specific, I just really want more Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler content 😊

Mother Nature

Kurt Wagner x reader Words: 1,6K A/N: Alright, first of my requests is done! I made some kind of mix between headcanons and oneshot because it just fit well in my opinion. Also, the gender wasn't stated so I tried to keep it neutral. Hope you like it :)

Let's start with some basics, shall we? In my opinion, Kurt would adore a partner with plant manipulation powers.

Yes, flying and teleporting are all well and good, but plant manipulation? He's absolutely fascinated and will watch you every time you use your powers. And don't you dare stop him watching...

You are, even if it's not immediately obvious, an incredibly powerful mutant. Control over plants means control over almost everything, trees, flowers, grass, even the earth if you try hard enough (through roots, of course). Kurt is a gentleman, of course, and it doesn't always sit right with him if you want to do certain things on your own that he could help with, but oh boy... If he doesn't get weak in the knees when you go into full mutant mode.

The first time he met you was in the old garden shed, which was pretty run-down. He hadn't really wanted to end up there himself, but in retrospect he is very grateful that he did. The professor had never really had time to look after the garden house, which is why you took on the task. And let me put it this way: the first time he saw your powers? The man was smitten from day one.

Plant nicknames. You won't escape them. Neither in German nor in English. “My flower”, “My lucky clover”, “My rose” but also references, especially to mythological creatures “Little garden fairy”, “Persephone”, .... The full program.

When he gives you plants - which he loves to do - he makes sure that they are planted so that you can enjoy them for a very long time. Kurt brings you plants from different cultures and countries, keen to give you as much diversity as possible. However, if he is forced to give you a bouquet of flowers, that's no problem either. You may prefer living plants, but hey - what can you manipulate plants for if you can't bring them back to life?

One disadvantage of your power is that you don't feel very comfortable in an environment without plants. It's fine in the institute, as it's mostly made of wood (dead, but still plant-based), but Kurt makes sure that there are always at least four living plants in your classroom as well as in his room.

Also loves listening to you. You teach a kind of mixture of theoretical biology and practical manual work in the gardens and there's almost nothing better for him than listening to you talk passionately about the plants. Or kneeling down in the garden bed, your eyes gleaming in the sunlight...

Should you move in together later? Be prepared for this man to go all out and fulfill your every request. Nothing is too good for you. Big garden? No problem. Plants all over the house? Already done. House in the country, surrounded by nothing but nature? Your wish is his command.

You have also quickly become his favorite training partner. And that's not just because Kurt can't keep his eyes and hands (and tail) off his partner. For one thing, it helps him to avoid moving objects, because he has learned the hard way how painful it can be to get an ivy tendril in the face. On the other hand, the two of you are simply perfectly attuned to each other. Kurt teleports a little too far to the left? Don't worry, the branch likes to stretch out a bit to catch him. The vine was a bit too short and not quite enough to catch you? Kurt is there to pick you up with ease. In other words, you don't want to compete against the two of you.

Kurt loves it when you make him flower necklaces or flower crowns. They last forever thanks to your power and as soon as you put them on his head? Don't expect him to take them off any time soon. He wears them with pride.

Kurt has always liked nature as he has traveled a lot in his life, but since he's been with you? He's become a huge fan of garden or nature dates. Whether it's a picnic outdoors, a walk in the woods or an afternoon in the greenhouse, he'll take it all. And if you do some magic with your power? He's in paradise.

Speaking of the greenhouse? Although it was initially your project, over time, especially after the relationship began, it has become your and Kurt's project. He doesn't know much about gardening, but he's willing to learn as long as that means continuing to listen and watch you.

Kurt materialized in the middle of the greenhouse and immediately the scent of the different types of flowers, of which he did not know the names, wafted towards him, but he knew that they made you happy and that was all that mattered to him. His eyes wandered around the open room, looking for you, and he realized again how much you had already done.

Yes, he had helped too, but it was you who had done the main work. Kurt still remembered the dead beds, the dried up earth and the broken sidewalks.

The glass panes were dirty and partly broken and the rain had caused mold to grow on some things. None of the garden utensils, the few that were at least there, were usable and pretty much everyone would have labeled this greenhouse a lost cause.

Not you.

You set to work yourself and improved everything yourself without using much of your powers. Kurt had caught you at the beginning of your project, so he was able to assess the improvement pretty well. You had cleaned and partially replaced the glass of the greenhouse - the latter admittedly with his help, as it was easier for him to reach the panes above - knocked out the path and replaced it with a loose, albeit well-kept, gravel path. The old borders of the beds were torn out and replaced with a large partition to the gravel path, allowing the plants greater freedom to grow.

One day you had grabbed Logan and Scott, Kurt had come along voluntarily, and had taken them to a gardening store to buy the necessary equipment and seeds. Logan and Scott had both grumbled while carrying them, Logan a little more than Scott, but your results were impressive.

Dozens, if not hundreds, of different plant species were growing neatly in every direction and it no longer resembled a greenhouse, but a rainforest that rivaled even the true jungle in diversity. Kurt smiled slightly and ran the tip of his tail over the soft petals of a red hibiscus flower.

You had made it possible for many plants to grow here, even if the conditions were not ideal, but they thrived under your guidance.

However, just as he was about to bend down to smell a new, previously unknown flower, a frustrated groan sounded, which seemed all too familiar. Kurt could already guess where you would be. He disappeared into a dark cloud and emerged not two meters behind you.

For a few moments he gazed at you lovingly as you knelt in front of the lily patch, but he quickly stepped towards you when he realized you were about to snap with anger (last time it had taken a week and a lot of affection from Kurt to remove the rampant thorny vines from the school grounds).

Kurt couldn't help but find your behavior endearing and pulled you closer to him, even though you tried to fight it. You might be better with plants, but he was the stronger of the two of you, whether you liked it or not. "My love," he murmured in your ear and you gave up your fight, just snuggled up against him, pouting.

„Liebling," he knelt down next to you and tilted his head. "What's the problem?" You glared angrily at the beds in front of you and began to poke around in them with the shovel. "Snails. Snails are the problem. What's the point of being able to manipulate and grow plants if those blasted bastards eat all my lilies?"

Despite your frustration, Kurt had to smile. "You still haven't given up the fight."

"No," you replied, throwing another slug into the bucket next to you with a disgusted look on your face. "That's my greenhouse. Let them find their own."

"You can't possibly remove all the slugs, the greenhouse is too big for that. Besides, it's late. Let's go back to the institute. I'll make us some hot chocolate, we'll snuggle up on the sofa and watch that movie you've been wanting to show me for weeks."

You hesitated but his tail wrapped around your middle and the tip slowly traveled up and down your side and Kurt knew he had won.

You groaned in defeat and grabbed the bucket, which you promptly emptied out of one of the windows and closed it. You cast one last angry look at the beds. "You may have won the battle, but I will be the victor of the war."

Kurt laughed softly, wrapping you in his arms again as his tail wrapped boldly around your waist. "You will." With a sweeping motion, he picked you up bridal style and pressed you tightly against him, making you squeal and then laugh. He pressed a soft kiss against your temple.

"Tonight, though, you're mine." You disappeared in a cloud of black and blue mist and let it be said, you didn't think about the creatures that had declared war on you for the rest of the evening.

#kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #xmen #x men #x men comics #x men the animated series #x men 97 #x men evolution #x men x reader #marvel #marvel x readre

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lurkingshan · 2 months

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Unknown Episode 6

Well, we wanted them to bring the pain, and my god did they do it. If you had any remaining doubt that this show knows exactly what it's doing with this story, this episode surely put it to rest. There were so many excellent scenes this week, and not all of them are strictly from the source material. I'm going to walk through the episode by favorite moments, because there is so much worthy of discussion here.

That first scene between Qian and Yuan, when Qian put his hand on Yuan's face and expressed his worry, was original to the show, and it got me right in the heart. It is exhausting to love someone you know won't love you back in the same way, and Yuan has been crumbling under the burden of trying to restrain his feelings while staying close to Qian. That Qian is both the source of his comfort and his agony makes it all so much harder, and Qian's blinders to Yuan's feelings means he is constantly making it worse for Yuan without meaning to.

I also loved the whole sequence at the H.O.T. party, from Yuan arriving sad and sick and vulnerable only to see Feng Ning getting cozy with his brother, to Qian knowing instantly that something was wrong with Yuan and becoming distracted, to Qian and Feng Ning's chat clearing up their relationship and the show allowing her to be awesome and not at all villainous about it, to Qian following Yuan into the backroom for the confrontation. It was a short sequence but it all built masterfully to the moment we've been waiting for since episode 1.

And what a scene that was. I loved that it began with Qian trying to care for Yuan like he always does. He is at a work event but he cannot focus on anything else until he knows Yuan is okay. But Yuan has hit his limit while his guard was down, and it all finally comes spilling out in the worst way possible. The emotions of this scene were perfect--Qian was truly shocked, deeply upset, and importantly, betrayed by Yuan crossing this boundary and imploding their relationship. And Yuan is also feeling upset and betrayed, because he has always counted on Qian to accept him no matter what, and in this moment, Qian failed him by rejecting him in a way he never has before. They are both clearly devastated to have this relationship ruined because for both of them, it is the most important one in their lives.

It's not surprising that Qian goes into full avoidance mode in the aftermath; he has no idea how to navigate his conflicting instincts. He doesn't want to reject Yuan and in fact it hurts him deeply to do so, but he can't accept him either. He's too shell shocked and angry to return to caretaking, but the guilt is clearly eating at him. So he hides, and finds a way to keep avoiding it by sending Yuan away. And this led to two more fantastic scenes, because this show cares about all its characters and the entire family unit, not just the two leads.

First, San Pang and Yuan. I love that despite making many mistakes and ultimately accelerating the implosion between the brothers, San Pang is not intentionally being malicious here. He is genuinely trying to help because he loves both Qian and Yuan, he doesn't want Qian to be hurt by Yuan's feelings, and he is clearly hoping Yuan can move on from it if he intervenes. Yuan knows this too, which is why he does not hate him despite his interference, and why he feels comfortable pushing San Pang to explain why his love for Qian is such a bad thing. I love that the show went here, and that San Pang couldn't come up with a logical reason why it's wrong. It just feels wrong to him, and isn't that the case with so much cultural taboo?

Second, I love this show so much for not forgetting Lili in all of this. Her increasing anxiety and fear at seeing her brothers' relationship fall apart without understanding why was so heartbreaking. This is her family, and she has had her own very rough childhood and survived parental abandonment too, and suddenly everything is blowing up and no one will explain it to her. Yuan clearly doesn't want to leave her anymore than he does Qian, but at this point he's not being left with much choice. And Qian is not in a headspace to offer her any explanation or comfort. I'm glad her pain was not overlooked.

The way this episode ended, with Yuan setting off for a lonely stint abroad, and Qian not even giving him a proper goodbye, was the final touch of heartbreak. Qian loves his brother so much, and I think he'll regret sending him away so coldly when he is finally able to process what happened here--he may already be starting to regret it, judging by the forlorn look on his face as he leaned in his doorway recalling their memories together. I was glad that at least he left Yuan a token to take with him; he can't face him right now, but he does care. Some time apart will likely do them some good, but in the meantime there will be a lot of loneliness in both their lives. This show hurts so good.

#unknown the series #taiwanese bl #shan shouts into the void

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fettuccin-e · 8 months

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Angel Incarnate

Kinktober Day 7: Soft and Slow

Tags: Javier Peña x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv, slight breeding kink, really really light angst, domesticity, javi is finally happy guys okay (w/c: 1K)

A/N: Alright so this is so fluffy it hardly even feels like a kinktober prompt but y'know what javi has his dick out so it counts okay. anyway i had a really fun time writing this because i love it when sad characters are happy it brings me insurmountable joy (For the month I've been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings!)

Everything around him has always been so violent. His world has always been bloody and bruised and chaotic, and Javier had always supposed that it was just meant to be that way.

He didn’t deserve anything better than the angry pain of Bogatá. He’d hurt too many people, ripped apart too many lives to be redeemed, to deserve any kind of sweetness. His life boiled down to blood and tears, the endless race against the narcos too much to take anything slow. The only sex he had was rough and violent, just like his life, just like his soul.

Getting back to Laredo, to his father’s ranch, had been a kind of culture shock that he didn’t think he could experience anymore. The lack of gunfire, the lack of violence, day in and day out, had him reeling.

He’d tried burying himself in the work, fixing up his childhood home and tending to the cattle and the horses, hardly venturing into town at all. The people who knew Javi, the young man who left Laredo with a bride at the altar for a life as an agent, did not need to know Javier, the broken, hollow, shell of a man. He didn’t need their pity, their looks of confusion mixed with sympathy.

He regrets those first few months now, the ones that he spent hiding from the rest of the world. After all, the first time he went out into town, went into the only little library for miles, he found you.

And you, God, you’re so different. So kind and patient, even when he’s rough with you, even when he tries to push you away. It’s a kind of slow, soft sweetness that sings through his bones, that makes him feel human again.

You’re slow with him, gentle in a way that he hasn’t been treated in years. He feels precious here, with you, between the soft sheets of your shared bed, as you roll your hips on top of him, taking him slow and so deep inside of you.

He wants to grip your hips so hard they bruise, roll you over and slam into you until you’re sobbing and writhing from the pleasure of it. He wants to press your face into the pillows and fuck you hard into the mattress.

But he holds back, just like you want him to. Let yourself just feel, Javi, you had told him one day, after he’d taken control from you, just like he wants to right now. We don’t have to rush.

So he doesn’t. He brushes his hands along your waist, relishing in your soft skin as you drop yourself down on his cock, over and over again. You gasp as he stretches you apart.

“That’s it, baby, so beautiful for me,” Javier murmurs. “That feel good, sweetheart?”

You nod, whining as he guides you down to grind deep into your g-spot. “It’s so- it’s so good, Javi. You feel so big like this.”

Javier groans as you clench around him, tight and wet and fucking perfect. The soft morning light filters through the curtains you put up last week, illuminating your skin and enshrining you like an angel. You are an angel, he thinks, as close to heaven as he’ll ever get.

He leans up, searching for a kiss that you gladly grant him. He loves kissing you, licking into your mouth and tasting you as you moan for him.

You curl your hands into his hair, grown longer with his time away from the DEA. The one time he’d asked you about cutting it, you’d protested so hard he’d laughed for thirty minutes straight. He’d started letting it grow after that.

You lean back up, undulating your hips in a way that has him groaning, pulling on your hips to help you along.

“You want to cum, Javi?” you murmur, pulling him in so fucking deep his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Por favor, nena, si,” he gasps, and God, you’re the only one that can make him beg like this. To make him desperate like this.

“Come on, honey, fill me up,” you coo, and Javi is lost to it. His hips jerk up of their own accord, pumping into you involuntarily with his orgasm. He spills into you without the fear of knocking you up, knowing that there’s no violence, no uncertainty with you. A small, not-so-secret part of him actually hopes it’ll take.

You whine above him, pushing your hips down on him over and over, frantic for your climax. He reaches a hand between you both and rubs slow, hard circles into your clit, and fuck, the way you cum will always steal the breath from his lungs. Your eyes clench shut, your mouth exhaling a beautiful, melodic little moan as you rock yourself on his cock, working yourself through it.

“That’s it, beautiful, so fucking good to me, so pretty for me,” he husks, and you curl yourself over him, meeting his lips in a sticky-wet kiss that has you both desperate for more. He palms his hands over your back, pulling you down to rest on top of him as you both breathe through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

You both don’t move for a long time, content to bask in each other’s warmth as the morning sun rises, bringing another day to spend together. It’s a kind of peace, a kind of contentment, he’d thought was a pipe dream for so, so long.

“How did I ever find you?” He murmurs into the quiet of the room. You tilt your head up from where it rests on his chest to smile softly at him. He feels like he could drown in your gaze.

“I think we were always meant to find each other,” you whisper, and like always, he knows you’re right.

#oh sweet javi love of my life #let me fix you #and also fuck you #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #javier pena smut #javi pena x reader #javi pena x you #narcos fanfiction #narcos smut

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focsle · 1 year

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I never did a long thing about scrimshaw, so it’s time! At 1 am, apparently.

I think scrimshaw is one of the most fascinating material goods to emerge from the history of the American whaling industry (which is the context I’m discussing here, though of course the artform exists across numerous eras and cultures outside this brief blip of nautical history).

It’s one way to see amatuer art that usually doesn’t often survive in other forms. To see the art project of an ordinary man who was bored and needed something to do with his hands. Others were highly skilled craftsman, creating intricate engravings or mechanically expert tools. The most common scrimshaw was images etched on sperm whale teeth. Sometimes those images came from the maker’s own imagination and sometimes they were copied illustrations. Ships & whaling scenes, women, mythical figures, and patriotic symbols make up the bulk of the visual language in those pieces that survive.

But alongside the teeth were all a manner of carved items: canes, candle holders, pie crimpers, children’s toys, sewing boxes, yarn swifts, corset busks. So much bone fashioned into quiet little homegoods. And it’s that contradiction within scrimshaw that fascinates me. The brutality of the industry, this ivory from an animal that frankly died terribly, that’s then softened into a little domestic item. An object that could have hours to years of work put into it. Some were made to be sold but many were made as gifts. In the long stretches of boredom at sea, in the lull between back-breaking work and life-threatening terror, scrimshaw gives a window into where the minds of these men continually turned. It shows where their hearts were and what they were holding on to over all the years they spent adrift in saltwater and blood and oil. That’s the poetry I see in scrimshaw. Pain and love and longing and creativity and playfulness all bound together in these complicated little pieces that found their way out of the hands of their anonymous makers to preserve a small part of their story.

Some scrimshanders names are known. Frederick Myrick is one of the most well known American whalers, not so much for the scope of his life (of which little is known) but for his scrimshaw. Born in Nantucket in 1808, he first went whaling in 1825 on the Columbus and then again on the Susan 1826-29. In the last few months aboard the Susan, Myrick engraved over 30 sperm whale teeth, all depicting the ship he was on (though there are a handful that depict other vessels). He signed and dated nearly each one. These pieces are often referred to as ‘Susan’s Teeth’ now, and when one comes up at auction it’s not unusual for it to sell for six figures.

Many of the teeth Myrick scrimshawed included an inscribed couplet of his devising: A dark wish for luck that succinctly gets at the violent and unstable heart of American whaling.

“Death to the living, long life to the killers Success to sailor’s wives, and greasy luck to whalers”

Sometimes large scenes were etched on panbones as well.

Moving from scrimshaw on teeth and jawbones, pie crimpers are some of the more common sculptural items. Popular motifs included animals (dogs, snakes, and unicorns/hippocampus are big), body parts (mostly clenched fists or lady’s legs), and geometric designs.

Others were more mechanically complicated, such as automatons and children’s toys with moving parts and gears. Here’s one of a small rocking sailboat, perhaps made for someone’s child or younger sibling.

Sometimes a particular creative fellow created something more eccentric, like this wild writing desk kit fashioned out of a carved panbone and sperm whale teeth.

Another frequently scrimshawed object was a corset busk that would be slid into the front of the garment in order to maintain the posture. A rather private item compared to others. And one with a very on-the-nose message of wearing close to one’s heart the memory of someone who’d be gone for 3-4 years, who might never come home again. On some level, so many of these daily objects whispered ‘forget me not’, ‘think of me while I’m gone’.

There’s something tender to all the various domestic items that were fashioned on the job so long and far from home, but it’s the yarn swifts that really captivate me. They were one of the most complicated pieces of scrimshaw to make, with over one hundred different pieces that would have to be carved. It could take someone the length of the voyage (2-4 years) to complete a single one. Unlike teeth which were comparatively very quick to make and were frequently intended to be sold, it’s very unlikely that a swift was made with the aim of selling it because of the significant labor that went into it. They were almost certainly all gifts, and very special ones at that. Every time I see one I can just feel the love towards its intended recipient radiating off of it.

Scrimshaw captures a specific snapshot of a moment in time. On a broader scale it’s a surviving reminder of a bloody industry that flared up and winked out, preserved in the form of a long-lost ship and the spout of a long-dead whale inked on a yellowing tooth. But that snapshot also reveals the emotional world of the men who were caught up in such an industry: what they valued, what they thought about, what they missed, and what they wanted to be remembered of them.

#awhalin #long post //#animal death //#ok bedtime

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eetherealgoddess · 3 months

Text

So I feel like I wrote my last two stories a little mid so hopefully this is more detailed and well written. Also brought back the language barrier cuz I love it too and haven’t written a story with it in a while. :)

ꨄRabid Loveꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Hybrid Au

❦Your deceased grandmother’s will passed down wealth, a mansion in Japan, and five exotic hyrbids❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

❣︎A little love between some of the characters as well❣︎

Not fully proofread!

Japanese language is red

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture him as a black male but you can see him however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Rabid Love

The manor sits on top of a hill, distant from the busy streets of the city near. Trees cover the surface, surrounding as if a natural gate. Very few houses of the same build sit near amongst the land that stretches along. It had been a few weeks since your wealthy grandmother passed down the hybrids that you’re going to live with in her enormous house. You weren’t too excited about the news at first, having heard nothing but the word “responsibility” pop into your brain, however you couldn’t help but accept the gift once the will was stated as you sat in the chair of the office.

Once all was set, you moved yourself as well as your belongings into the mansion she once lived in, sort of creeped out by the fact that her ghost may or may not be lingering. Regardless, the situation had been unsettling considering she died inside the home. You mentally shook your anxiety away as you gathered your things from the car, thinking about how you and the hybrids would get along. The note she left had warned you of all concerns as well as facts about them.

So far you only knew that they are all males, adults, and two out of five of them are biologically related. They are broad with strong personalities. They can take care of themselves for the most part and were sort of like her sons. All of the males have the alpha gene which is the only thing you have to worry about, as a female yourself considering their weird dominance obsession. It is common for male hybrids to compete for superiority, especially when it comes to humans. It’s a surprise that these particular beings even got along as well as they do.

They were already situated in the house so you were the outsider coming in, having had an estranged relationship with your deceased grandmother for the majority of your lives. It wasn’t until a few years before she died you reached out, finding out that she had moved to Japan and started a new life away from the family when you were a child. It was sweet, the time you spent together before she went into hospice and gave into the light. You were at peace that she was no longer in physical pain so you were able to mourn in a brighter way, the thought helping you feel better.

Once you made it to the door, you took a deep breath and walked into the manor to begin your new life, set for the rest of your days by the blessing from your grandmother’s will. When you finally walked in, you were met with the smell of vanilla with a pinch of cinnamon, the beautiful decor shining amongst the white walls, reflecting off the marble floor perfectly. You weren’t used to such luxury, your gaze stuck on the maroon furniture placed in the foyer. A long staircase wrapped around a pillar to the left of the entrance facing inside.

You walked further, passing the foyer and walking through the arch. A butler stood, greeting you as he grabbed your luggage, leading you to your new bedroom up the stairs. You eye the doors you pass as you both stroll down the hall. He bows once you make it to the room before leaving you to your lonesome. You eye the large bed that you couldn’t wait to lay in for the first time. It looked far better than anything you’ve ever slept on, including the pillows.

You set your luggage down and gaze at the rest of the room, glancing at your balcony as well as the television and electric fireplace under it. A maroon rug on the cream carpet placed in front of the bed as well as an ottoman, and a walk-in closet near the bathroom’s door that’s connected through the bedroom. You decide to unpack your stuff later, eager to get meeting the hybrids over with as soon as possible. When you walk out of your room, you check the halls both ways as you listen for a presence near, to no avail. You move to the staircase before ascending down all the while gently holding the railing.

You walk through the foyer, surprised to not see any butlers or hybrids as you make your way to the living space. You perk up when you hear rustling in the kitchen, rushing to the area. You see a cabinet open, covering a face as they’re bent over, blonde tail sticking up as they search for something.

“Hey.” You say, attempting to make your presence known though you watch as the person ignores you and continues their hunt. You stood awkwardly as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

Damn. Should I walk away?

Finally the male grabs whatever he was looking for and stands up straight, closing the cabinet’s door before looking at you as he tears the bag of a snack. His blonde hair sways as his attention shifts to you, dark eyes boring into yours as he takes a bite. His ears stick out above his head, perking up as he chews.

“Who are you?” He says, accent thick even with his mouth full, swallowing before taking another bite. One of his hands is placed in his pocket as his tail sways to the other side. His face holds an unreadable expression.

“Y/n. I’m G/n’s granddaughter.” He hums before nodding, staring at you for a little longer before walking towards the doorway, turning slightly to the side to eye you.

“Mikey.” He says before disappearing into the hall. You stood frozen in your position.

I guess that wasn’t so bad. That must’ve been the lion. He was shorter than I thought he’d be. Four more and the hardest part will be over.

You walk out of the kitchen and head out of the den down the second hall. You hear music from a familiar videogame you once played, following the sound as you prepare yourself to meet whichever hybrids are playing the game. When you reached the closed door, your hand wrapped around the doorknob. You twist the object and push the door open, entering the large room that seems to be the game room, considering the futuristic look and electronic devices that surround the area. A large flat - screen displays the game as you face the back of the gaming chairs that hold two people.

You notice one of their tails hanging to the side of the chair, indicating one of the leopards your grandmother noted. “They come off mischevious though they do have a sweet side once you surpass that phase, but don’t forget that it isn’t a facade. They find amusement in others’ suffering.”

You’re glad she was honest though it didn’t calm your nerves in the slightest. Hybrids are known to be dangerous by nature considering their societal views of the world surrounding them. It comes from a survival instinct that somehow turned into play. They are intimidating creatures, especially when they are exotic which is why they are so expensive. You move into the room further before clearing your throat quietly.

“Hello.” You state, awaiting a response as the screen continues on. The only one who acknowledges you is the person who turns their head on the left, revealing tiger ears as their golden eyes meet yours. His lips upturn into a wide grin, turning in his seat to where he sits sideways, the tiger tattoo on his neck prominent under his long black and blonde hair, as well as the tail that sticks out on the other side of the chair.

“Hey there.” He greets. “Do you know Japanese?”

You shook your head as your hand reached the back of your neck in embarrassment, smiling sheepishly. “Nah. Sorry about that.”

“You knew you were moving here yet didn’t bother to learn basic Japanese? How smart of you.” Another voice says from the seat next to the tiger who chuckles in response.

You didn’t know what the first part of his speech was, but considering the last part of it you could tell it probably wasn’t the nicest statement. Irritation creeps in but you didn't want to assume the worst so you ignored the remark.

“Kazutora.” He states before nodding over to the man who sits next to him. “That’s Rin.”

“Cool. Y/n.” You respond.

“Well, nice to meet ya, Y/n. I guess I’ll see ya around.” He says before giving you one last smile and turning back in his seat to face the screen. You nod to yourself before leaving the room with a “You too.”

You sigh as you make your way out of the hall and towards the staircase. You walk up the stairs heading to your room before deciding to find the last two cats. Then you can breathe and focus on unpacking. As you walk past the upstairs balcony, you stroll down the hall that holds the doors to the bedrooms. You notice a cracked door as well, whispers and the sound of a man talking low. The closer you get the more your eyebrows furrow as you hear wet smacking sounds. When you look through the crack, your hand covers your mouth as you eye the display.

Long pink hair drapes over the shoulders of the man bent over with his face against the bed, a red hue covering his face as drops of sweat cause his skin to glisten. His eyebrows are furrowed as his nose scrunches, fingers gripping the comforter as his body rocks against the man behind him while his ears are flat. The jaguar’s tail is held behind him by the long haired leopard’s hand, naked body glistening with sweat along with highlighting the large tattoo embedded on his torso, all the while he pounds into the man below him. His other hand grips his hips, claws piercing the skin as their skin smacks together. Both men pant while releasing occasional moans and praises.

Once your eyes make contact with purple you swiftly move away and rush towards your room, slamming the door behind you as you press your back against it. You had not expected any of that but you didn’t plan to act weird about it. It just caught you by surprise as well as making you embarrassed for being caught watching.

You sigh before turning your own tv on and beginning your unpacking process. Once you finished you heard a knock at your door. You yell, “Come in!”

The door opens to reveal the butler from earlier.

“Dinner is ready, madam.”

“Oh, thanks. Also, you don’t have to call me madam.”

“Yes, L/n” You shrug as he leads you to the empty dining room. You sit in one of the chairs and watch as the chef comes out with a covered plate, setting it in front of you before lifting it to reveal your delicious smelling dinner. You didn't hesitate to dig in, causing some to drip out of your mouth. You’ve honestly never tasted something so delectable in your life. You down the plate of food so fast, you take a second to breathe before you ask for more, tempted to get up on your own and grab it from the chef’s station.

“You’re gonna choke if you slurp it down like that again.” A voice says from the entrance of the room, causing you to turn your head in their direction. You immediately felt warmth in your face when you see the leopard from earlier, his long black and blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, swaying as he walks in before sitting at the table.

His ears stick up as his tail moves to rest against his lap, fingers connected as his face leans on the back of his hands. His leg crosses as a sly smile falls along his expression. A strand of hair falls in front of his face as his droopy eyes gaze at you from across.

“I’ll be fine.” You respond just as another plate of food is placed in front of you. “Y/n.” You shake off your anxiety considering it’s really not a big deal. They could’ve at least closed the door.

“Haitani Ran.” He offers a hand, dark claws out causing you to hesitate before accepting with your own.

He takes the opportunity to lift the back of your hand to connect his lips, releasing you as he licks the taste of your skin off his lips. You ignored the residue tingle left on your hand and began to eat your second plate. You glance at the other men who entered the room, noticing all of them except the lion.

They all sit in their seats, Rin beside Ran and the pink haired male next to them. Kazutora takes a seat next to you.

“Wonder what’s on the menu.” Rin states sarcastically.

“Our favorite as always.” Ran responds with a knowing look.

“How do you think she’ll react?” Kazutora asks with amusement.

“She wouldn’t know the difference, you know how dense humans are.” The scarred male says.

You wish you would have at least looked into a translation tool of some sort because you try telling yourself that they’re just having a normal conversation but you feel like you’re being shit - talked. You know that it’s a ‘you’ problem but the tone and energy that comes with their speech has been off.

“Hey, I’m Y/n.” You say to the male you have yet to meet. He gives you a bored look before stating, “Sanzu.” Mikey finally entered the dining room with his arm rubbing against his tired eyes. He heads to the seat on the other side of you and sits after pulling the chair back. He leans over the table with his head lying on his palm.

“Had a nice nap?” Kazutora questions.

“Not long enough.” He says with a soft voice.

“You came earlier than usual.” Rin says before turning to his brother. “You owe me.” To which Ran rolled his eyes.

The same chef as earlier, along with a few others came out with covered plates and set them in front of the hybrids. They also poured their preferred beverage into the wine glasses. Your eyebrows furrowed as to how you forgot to ask for your own drink or why they didn’t have a cup already out like everyone else.

Well, I am new so it’s probably nothing personal.

When they lifted the cover, you eye the chunks of raw meat along with the side dishes surrounding the plate. The smell was enticing though you’ve never been one to enjoy raw food in fear of the repercussions.

I guess they are technically big cats so it’s healthy for them.

You’ve never seen meat that looks quite like what’s on their plates. You watch as Sanzu rubs his meat into the red substance that puddles around it before lifting the chopsticks to his mouth.

“What is that?” You hope to not come off rude or ignorant though you were just so curious you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Some of them gave each other looks all the while snickering or rolling their eyes.

“Fresh human.” Mikey says casually before taking another bite. Your eyes widen, hand holding your own chopsticks pausing as you stare down at your plate.

“Don’t worry, your dinner is animal meat.” The golden eyed tiger reassures you. Unfortunately, you’ve seemed to have lost your appetite.

“So, how do you obtain human meat?” You ask.

“By cooking a human.” Rin snorts. You glare at his smart ass answer and look over to the others.

“Your grandmother has freezers full of cut human slabs by those who signed off on donating their body parts to the Hybrid - Food Society Association.” Ran explains before taking another bite of food.

“They’re cleaned thoroughly before they’re slaughtered considering most donations are only after they’re dead.” He continued, “lucky for us only the healthiest of humans are chosen to be a meal specially made for the exotic hybrids such as us.”

How have you never heard of this before? Then again they only make normal pet food for non - exotic hybrids. You’ve never even been around a regular hybrid let alone the type you have to live with now. You nod your head as you prevent the bile from coming up your throat. You know that humans are technically just chunks of meat with legs, still on the food chain for other species and even on their own at times. You still couldn’t help but feel disturbed. They could decide to eat you at any moment and you’d be done for.

You turn to the chef and give your thanks before standing up and nodding a dismissal to the rest of the men, heading to your room so you could take a moment to relieve yourself of the anxiety forming. When you reached your bedroom, you decided to take a shower, gathering a pair of pajamas before entering your bathroom and turning the faucet on. After your shower you completed your nightly routine and hopped into bed.

After a few hours of scrolling and not being able to sleep, you climbed out of bed and walked through the hall to the staircase. Once you reach the den, one of your eyebrows raise at the tiger who sat on the couch leaned over. As you walked around you noticed the tray on his lap as well as the opened wrap in his hands that he brought to his lips to lick the lining before rolling the leaf, closing around the green flower. His ears perked up as he turned slightly to look at you.

“Want some?” He says with a smile and tilted head, holding the joint up.

Sitting on the balcony connected to his room, you both pass the stick as you converse about whatever comes to mind, slight laughter along with semi - deep conversation that’s lingering between the surface and depth. A moment of silence included with the level of ganja consumed enhanced your need for sleep, you lying on the ground as your legs hang off the edge of the balcony. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel weightless under the moonlight. Your steady breathing caught Kazutora’s attention.

He turns back to look at you before finishing off the roach and ashing it out. He tossed it below, the burnt leaf disappearing into the forested area. He leaned back, connecting with the floor as he turned his head to the side to observe your sleeping face. His own expression is stoic besides the light pink hue that lingers on his face. After lying there for a moment, he sits up to lean over you and sniff near your neck, your distinct scent fuming his nostrils. One of his hands move to your shoulder as he grips the skin, sniffing a little harsher than before to receive every fume that comes from you.

A few weeks pass and you find yourself with a casual routine. Fortunately, you’ve bonded well with Kazutora though that’s not much of a surprise since he was the most welcoming. His extrovertedness did well with helping you out of your comfort zone. Today you went out to run errands. Eyeing the building to your left and noticing that it is a bakery, you decide to run in and buy a case of Mikey’s favorite treat. You knew he was running out so a quick pit stop couldn’t hurt.

When you arrived home you dropped the case on the kitchen counter before quickly taking your own stuff to your room, planning to place it in the right area once you finished setting your bags on the floor. When you made it downstairs, you stopped to see Mikey opening the case you had set on the counter. When he grabs the snack, he opens the package and sets the treat between his lips, fangs glistening before he takes a bite.

“Thanks.” He says before walking out. You shrug before sneaking one of your own and setting the rest in the pantry. You knew that he’d eat all of those within the next two to three days so you thought to snatch one to try before he eats them all.

A few days pass and he asks if you can style his hair so he wouldn’t have to. You didn’t think pulling half your hair up in a ponytail could be that much work but to each their own. You didn’t mind styling his hair, the soft strands entangling your fingers as you pulled it up to wrap the band around the section once you were finished brushing the mane. You thought his ears would make it harder for you but there was no trouble at all. He stared at the tv all the while you completed the ponytail.

From that day on he would automatically show up in your room and position himself on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. You never complained nor rejected him. It was quite the bonding experience even when you two didn’t talk at all. More weeks passed and he gradually showed more comfortability around you, making excuse after excuse just to touch you such as making you carry him, lying his head on your lap, or spooning you whenever he’d ask to sleep in your bed. You found the behavior adorable and the company appreciated.

A couple months passed and you were walking up the stairs to your bedroom after a smoke session with Kazutora. When you opened your door, the putrid smell smacked your face before you eye the red liquid from the freshly slaughtered human arm lying on your comforter. You covered your mouth before bile shot up your throat and caused you to vomit on the floor. Dry heaving and gagging, tears fall down your face at the burning liquid from your throat as well as the stench filling your nostrils.

“What a sight.” A voice says behind you though you’re too distracted to notice, running to your bathroom before slamming the door shut. Laughter filled the room.

After you got yourself together you were met with an ‘apology’ from Rin and Sanzu, though it only consisted of, “It was just a prank.” Ran offered for you to sleep in his room until the mattress and sheets were replaced, to which Mikey and Kazutora tried to argue against in order for you to stay with them instead.

A few months pass and you wake up in the middle of the night. You felt the urge to walk down the hall considering the loud noise that startled you awake. Once you did, you found one of the bedroom doors open. Walking in, you gasped when you see Sanzu on the ground completely out of it with his eyes barely open and head leaning against the wall. You immediately take action and stick your fingers into his throat forcing him to vomit whatever he consumed. Once he came back to consciousness you wrapped your arms around him and cried on his shoulder for his safety, his own eyes staring ahead into the space across from where you sat.

Unknown to you, after a week passed he made himself a routine of observing you while you slept. Sometimes he would even climb in the bed, accidentally waking you up though you weren’t concerned, embracing the jaguar in your arms as you fell back into slumber.

One day, you just couldn’t take your eyes off of Ran’s long hair. You asked if you could play with it, as it reminded you of the mannequin heads you received as a little girl. He didn’t mind. As a matter of fact he fell asleep numerous times on your lap, nuzzling comfortably against your thighs as your fingers traced his scalp. Sometimes, he’d even ask you to downright scratch his head, his body reacting slightly as the tingles go straight down his spine. It was cute.

A month passed and you were walking through the rest of the mansion you had yet to see. You almost passed a room until the leopard patterned ears caught your attention. You watched as Rin worked out in the gym, lifting large weights. You eye the matching tattoo that sits on the opposite side of his brother’s torso. Never really exercising consistently, you walk into the room and grab the smallest weights as a joke before standing next to him and lifting your own, giving him a humorous smile. He side glances at you before you turn away, continuing to lift as you miss the red hue forming on his face.

A year passed and you decidedl that it’s time for you to meet other humans who reside in Japan. Having been slacking on your social skills, you couldn’t help the nerves that struck when you went out to meet a group of people you’ve never met before you were hit up on social media. You made sure to dress appropriately considering you all would be bar hopping and running around the booming streets of a popular city. The night was spent with pure joy and good energy as you all roamed the area. The hours reach the am and you finally return home, a little tipsy as you stumble into the foyer.

“Where were you?” You almost jolt out of your skin when you try passing the den, turning to see Kazutora sitting on the sofa with a leg crossed.

“Oh, you scared me.” You giggle in relief. His expressionless gaze caused you to quiet down before you responded to his question. “I went out with some people I met.”

“Who?” He asks in a serious tone. You raise one of your eyebrows.

“What is this an interrogation?” He holds his hands up in surrender with a sheepish smile.

“It was just a question.” You sigh before shaking your head.

“I-I’m sorry about that, I shouldn’t have gotten so defensive.” You drop your purse on the floor before sitting next to him.

“It’s alright. Wanna smoke?” He questions before he feels your head leaning against his shoulder. Your quiet breathing indicated your slumber. He sits up and turns his body towards you, shifting you to lean back on the couch before diving into your neck, sniffing the scents from the various humans that had been in your presence. His expression turns into irritation, a drop in his stomach as he feels the need to scrub your body clean of the stench that surrounds you. Instead, he helped you to bed.

A few weeks pass and you go on a date. The meeting was nice and the guy really made your day with his gentlemen - like behavior. You stepped out of the car after he dropped you off. He walked you to your door before you gave him a kiss on the cheek and told him, “Bye.” When you entered the door, you were immediately grabbed by the arm while you were sniffed by Rin.

“Gross.” He hissed before dropping your arm and walking away. Leaving you confused as you stood in your spot. On another occasion you were in the middle of braiding Ran’s hair while he faced you with his legs over yours, both of you sitting on your bed.

“Wouldn’t you rather watch tv than me?” You chuckled. He shook his head with a smile.

“Nope.” He says before pushing you on your back and climbing on top of you, nuzzling his head between your shoulder and positioning himself comfortably enough to nap. You roll your eyes and shift your attention to the flat screen while caressing his back until you fall asleep on your own.

When you went to the bathroom after you both woke up and he left your room, your eyebrows furrowed at the marks left on your neck. Tracing them as you stared deeply into the mirror. You confronted him though he promised to not do it again, he didn’t listen. You begin to hide it with makeup when going out only for the foundation to show up missing each time, causing you to stop buying new products considering they’d disappear anyway.

“Master, my dorayaki is gone!” Mikey whines as he sits on top of your lap, legs circled around your waist as you sit on the sofa in the den. You pull him back by the arms while giving him a look.

“Mikey, I’ve already told you to stop calling me that.”

He continues to whine about his missing dorayaki, ignoring your statement as he calls you the preferred name over and over.

“I can’t get you more if you don’t get up.” To which he replied, “Then take me with you.”

“You’d still have to get down.” He paused above you, sniffing your neck before you felt a long wet muscle leave a trail of moisture.

“Mikey!” You gasp.

“All I can smell is Ran’s stupid scent on you.” He hissed before he continued to lick and mark up your neck with his own scent. You ignore the chills running up your back as you attempt to push him off though his grip is keeping you locked. His tail wraps around one of your arms while his hand grabs your other wrist, preventing you from pushing against him. You huff frustratingly.

You’ve been noticing the absence of a few of your clothing. The only thing you know is that someone has been stealing from your dirty clothes basket. It probably doesn’t worry you as much as it should but you couldn’t really do anything about it without the risk of accusing the wrong person and causing a problem. It wasn’t until one night you walked into Sanzu’s, seeing him naked and asleep as he held one of your favorite shirts. Your eyes widen at the pair of your panties tangled around his limp cock.

You immediately leave the room, shutting the door behind you and walking back to your bedroom. You brush the memory off as something to do with their instincts and comfortability or something, you don’t really know how to react to that. You didn’t bring it up nor did you say anything about it to anyone else. You’ve caught a few of them either having intercourse or masturbating but never once with your clothes. Not until then or until you ended up finding Kazutora sniffing your panties with drowsy eyes all the while Mikey pounding his ass above him, his head leaning on the tiger’s back while he gripped his waist. Now that was a sight you hadn’t expected to see at all.

You just thought that they all had a harmless crush on you and didn’t know what to do with it besides their sexual escapades so you didn’t say a word. You didn’t find a problem with their behavior until you had a visitor. You had no idea why they acted so rudely to your new friend, her being a girl who you were not attracted to in the slightest way sexually or romantically. It was clear the platonic friendship you had going on but for them to just outright go out of their way to aggressively make her uncomfortable is insane to you. You refrained from inviting anyone else over. It seemed to have just gone downhill from there.

One night you woke up and felt cold air hitting your whole body which made no sense considering you fell asleep warm in your pajamas. What you hadn’t expected was the moisture hitting one of your nipples nor the muscle sliding against your clit. Two pairs of purple eyes glower at you all the while continuing their assault. Claws slightly penetrate your thighs as well as the breast that’s being held against a mouth. Your hips buck before you sit up and push the older brother back, as well as the head of the younger.

“Rin! Ran! What in the fuck?!” You exclaim.

You had them all sit down in the den, the males holding expressions of boredom or little care for what you were going on about. You set boundaries about everything that had made you uncomfortable. The only reason you were explaining anything was because they are all hybrids and have different sets of rules and social constructs than regular humans. Although disturbed you decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, hoping things would get better.

You made an unfortunate decision, attempting to invite another friend over, this time a male. Considering there had been some time that passed and the hybrids had listened to your concerns, you thought that you could finally have some company. It was very late by the time you both realized the time, you being nice and offering him to stay in one of the guest bedrooms and sleep over. When you hadn’t heard from him or seen him walk out of the room, you decided to check in. Only for you to let out a scream of terror at what was left of the mauled body lying on the bed. You couldn’t stop trembling as you hyperventilated, Kazutora rubbing your sides as he held you against his chest while the maids cleaned the mess.

A few days pass as you stay locked in your room. You get up from the bed and head to your grandmother’s old bedroom on the other side of the mansion. You searched for anything that could notify you of the violence that occured. Some piece of information on how to stay safe or figure out how to lessen their weird behavior. The only thing you found was your grandmother’s journal. You sat in your bedroom and read the entire passage. Your hands tremble as realization smacks you in the face. When you couldn’t find anyone upstairs, you rushed down to the game room after passing the empty den.

All of them were either sitting on gaming chairs or the couches, focusing on what was displaying on the screen. You walked to the tv, unplugging it and throwing the journal on the ground. You contemplated just making your exit quietly but you were so angry you acted out of emotion.

“What the fuck did you do to my grandma?! Who are you and what was your plan?”

They all stare at you with absent expressions. The only thing that could be heard was your heavy breathing.

“What are you talking about?” Kazutora questions. You shake your head.

“No don’t fucking try to manipulate me you know exactly what I’m talking about!” You say before grabbing one of the unused controllers near the tv and chucking it at him, only for him to dodge it.

“And what do you think you’re gonna do about it, huh? She’s dead and you’re lucky we spared you.” Rin says with irritation. Your eyes widen.

“Lucky you spared me?! Your plan was to kill me after poisoning her to death so you can steal everything from us!” You exclaim. “You lied to her and she was too old to notice that she even wrote it herself! You knew she didn’t have her right mind so you manipulated her into thinking you loved her!” The sound of another controller breaking catches your attention.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. We loved her like our mother.” Sanzu growls.

“Then why did you gradually kill her to steal from her! You don’t do that to people you love!”

“It wasn’t part of the plan to bond with her. She was just some old rich lady before we got to know her.” Ran says with a stoic expression. You scoff.

“Oh please! You’re fucking terrible!” You exclaim before walking to the exit. Before you could leave the room you were snatched by your arm.

“Where are you going?” Mikey questions while gripping your arm with his claws slightly piercing your skin, dark eyes glaring into your own orbs.

“Away from you freaks.” You hissed attempting to pull your arm away from him only to get thrown on the ground. You land with a thud along with a grunt when the back of your head meets the carpet.

Before you can get back up, you’re forced on your back, Mikey climbing on top of you and pinning you to the ground.

“LET ME GO!” You roar, fear mixing with the anger as the grip on your wrists tighten. His tail wraps around your neck in a tight hold, blocking your airway while he stares down at you with a cold look. You stare wide eyed as you struggle in his hold.

“Calm down, Y/n.” Kazutora says as they all gather around, him crouching down to eye you from above.

“Knock her out already.” Rin states before Sanzu pressed harshly against your pressure point, causing you to go limp immediately.

“It’s okay.” A voice cooes in your ear from behind. Heat covers your body as you groan while slowly coming to reality. The only light is the moonlight reflecting into the room, causing a hollow glow. You feel your own body rocking as the feeling of being stretched from below causes you to gasp. Hands grip your shoulders as your stomach is pressed against the bed. You hear panting behind you as kisses are placed on your neck and shoulder.

“I… hah, love you so much. Fuck!” Kazutora breathes out as he rocks his lower body against yours, sliding his thick erection out of your body before shoving it back inside deeply, purposefully aiming himself to hit the spot he knows will drive you crazy. You look up wide eyed at purple eyes that stare down at you from above, cock in hand right in front of your eyesight as he kneels on the bed.

“M’ so close. G-gonna fill this pussy up with my fucking cum.” His hair drapes over your back as his thrusts harden. He pulls his hips back before pressing them against your ass, accelerating his steady pace as he aims his head perfectly against your g - spot. You whimper as you bite your lip, tears streaming down your face as you turn your head the other way to not face the older Haitani. Only to be met with icy blue orbs glowering down at you with a twisted look of lust on his expression, such an intense gaze that forces you to shut your eyes tightly, waiting for the time to pass and this to be over.

Kazutora’s thrusts become harder as you feel a rise of your own stomach, the stimulation getting the best of your body before you release, the male over you holding his hips against your ass before he shoots ropes of cum inside of you. Breathing heavily, you feel his weight lift off of you before forcing you to turn over on your back. You cry out when Mikey crawls in between your legs, holding your legs up as he positions himself to push inside.

“I hate you! I-I hate all of you!” You hysterically cry, using your fists to bang against Mikey’s chest before Rin appears in your vision, grabbing your chin as he leans over, red hue covering his cheeks.

“Shut up.” He says before forcing you into a passionate kiss.

Once they were all done taking their turns with you, you were carried to the bathroom to get cleaned up by Ran. Your limp body is exhausted from being used by the stronger species, worn out and broken from the inside out. You knew that the next day would be spent planning your escape.

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whokilledjared · 2 months

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the sluttiest thing a man can do is be himself. (& takes on social media)

Hi.

I'm lonely.

The moment I got "two weeks off school" in sophomore year, life went to 4x speed & I can't turn it off no matter how hard I try.

Maybe COVID-19 adolescence did numbers on me. Somewhere between the iPhone 5c and ChatGPT, 14-hour screen times have live-streamed to me a steady, homogenous death of culture.

Nothing is cool anymore. Nothing is sacred. Every movement is a trend, and every cult classic a sequel.

The value we place on things being beautiful, on being "cool," and our gatekept appreciation of how hard these things were to find: it's been co-opted, or perhaps stolen. It's been stolen by the new merchant class. "Disruptors" and "innovators" turning our lives into a burgeoning black mirror prequel. Soon, we'll graduate too, and we'll wring every morsel of value in each others' lives dry for cash.

Plain and simple, I think we're being manipulated.

Your dates are an algorithm. Your music is a social signal. And Zuck knows when you sleep.*

God. What the fuck are we doing???

“Individuation is becoming the thing which is not the ego, and that is very strange.” — Carl Jung

Recently, I deleted Instagram. My first impulse was to post a story or something, announcing my departure. But then, I thought that would be lame.

I got rid of my account, too. Kinda. Over 1 year, over 800 followers removed, and what remains of me is a little grey icon, and "JM_0000000010" where my name and face used to be.

yay.

There were many people I wish I could have been friends with, but I wonder, too, why I find myself so drawn to the validation of others. Does social media affect me worse, or do we all just choose to ignore it, languishing in private?

At any rate, this last year has almost felt like re-learning how to be a human being.

Personally, I think one of the biggest markers for maturity is when you become willing to disappoint the people you know in favor of what feels right to you, when you start to unravel the stories you’ve told yourself (or been told) about who you are and what you should be. In short, the sluttiest thing a man can do is be himself.

And sometimes, I think about every college student that has ever lived. My grandmother, my dad, and so on. Just consider for a moment all kids who graduated before 2010:

What was it like for the ones in 1940? To walk around, before a campus had computers? In 2006: To meet someone pretty, but forget their number? In 1999: To cram into dorms, and watch Seinfeld live on-air?

Would I, like my dad in 1988, have braved cold night, brisk wind, & landline phone-call just to knock and see if my friends were too busy to hang?

What stories could I tell if there was even the slightest chance of getting lost on the way home from a party?

Humans are social creatures. We crave our friends like water. To me, the clearest difference between Dasani and Instagram is that one of them comes in a bottle.

Yet despite these distractions and comforts we have in 2024, somehow, we still have engineering students. People who carve out time in their day to sit down, look at paper, and solve differential equations. But then, that's not so hard, is it? It just takes time. Precious, fucking, time.

At Meta, leagues and leagues of these engineers power behavioral scientists, who are competing for the highest salary. Their benchmarks? Your FOMO. Guilt. Anxiety. Obsession. The worse you feel, the more you engage with their content. The more you engage with their content, well, you're starting to get the point.

Try something for me: Open up Instagram, but don't tap anything. What happens? How many little animations? How many tiny nudges prompting you to get lost? Our home-pages are billion-dollar diving boards, hoisting us over engineered catacombs of subconscious quicksand.

My homepage is my FOMO, my envy, and my crushes. The pain and struggle of trying to be someone who I am not. My little existential crises, bundled-up, packaged, and shipped with a like button.

To abandon your social networks entirely, however, requires a safety net of close friends. After all, your friends are online, and you'd be miserable without them.

This is the problem with our monkey brains. Millennia of sociological natural-selection have made us quite great at feeling terrible. We're damn good at making tribal status games to play with, too.

Seeking refuge in quirked up septum piercings and boygenius listeners, my time in counter-cultural, alternative "scenes" between St. Louis and Tampa has shown me that even the weirdest of folks and the most removed can accidentally find themselves reduced to nothing more than high-school popularity contests. Even if I love them. Even if they're amazing people. We're human.

We can't "quit social media" as much as we can't "quit bottled water" Sure, we can, but it's inconvenient. And even without a bottle, we're still drinking water.

So I lost touch with my friends. I got no new updates on their lives. I forced myself into the inconvenience of not having a phone to reach for in fleeting moments of boredom. Suddenly, I was out of the loop. Suddenly, I was bored. And suddenly, nobody missed me. My only friends were the ones I had the time to text. Everyone else ... does not exist.

Weekends have become more valuable than ever. Without the empty social calories of seeing my friends' pictures, I find myself planning hangouts as often as my schedule allows. I have more lunches, more study sessions, and more is done in the company of less.

And I have the time to breathe.

And in this calm, I think I found my answer: it's my misplaced ambition. These fears of anxiety and people I thought I would miss, they seem represent something I want to see more of within myself. Something I want to develop, lean into more deeply, as an individual. And I think that's quite normal; to look out into the world and feel attracted to things we want to see more of. This is, I think, how everyone develops their own definition of beauty — and of coolness. It's largely the intersection of what we find most interesting, and what we want to see more of in the world. Because beauty and coolness, by definition, are rare and hard to find. If they were everywhere, nothing be beautiful, nor would anything be cool.

When we all turn into wrinkles and cataracts, bad backs and heart attacks, for a brief, glorious moment, our lives are going to flash before our eyes. In this moment, you'll see your story. The ultimate progression of you.

How much of that will be skibidi toilet and reaction clips? How much of that will be arguing on the internet? Can you tell me, just how much of your life will you have skipped over to pacify your intentionally-lowered attention span?

That girl whose number you couldn't find Those passing questions over coffee that you couldn't search on Google The boredom of a subway ride

Those are not inconveniences, they're what the older generations refer to as "life."

* (oh, but if you can't sleep, consider this aside: Google knows the angle you walk at, how fast you're walking, and they've got crowdsourced pictures of everywhere around you at all times of the day. fun bedtime thoughts <3)

#scene #alternative #social media #social justice #instagram #college #coming of age #writing #blogpost #blog takes

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meanbossart · 6 months

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do you have any thoughts on cazador as a character? personally i really loved the parallels between him and astarion & the way that the master/spawn relationship is used as an allegory for cyclical abuse. the scene with cazador’s master’s skull where you find out that he was once victimized in the exact same way that he later victimized astarion was really a lightbulb moment for me re: what vampirism represents in this game.

BOY DO I, i don't think much of it hasn't already been said, though. He's a tragic character in his own right of course, not that that takes away from the awful man he is.

Me and my boyfriend make fun of him a lot, we call him "the best BG3 character" as a little inside joke between us and come up with ridiculous scenarios of things that might have occurred throughout those 200 miserable years the spawn had under his command lol. Maybe he had a month where he was really specific about the shoes everyone wore, maybe once every other decade he had a weird week where he tried to be "nice" only to become frustrated when his efforts weren't immediately met in kind by the rightfully-terrified spawn, maybe between all the torture and horrific-ness he just did some plain weird shit like making someone crouch by in his fainting couch and wait by open-handed for grapes that he dramatically chewed on and then spat right out since he can't actually eat them lmao

And that's hysterical but I think we also started doing that because when you meet Cazador, when you first hear his voice and see his demeanor in person your immediate reaction is probably somewhere along the lines of "THIS is the clown you were so scared of, Astarion?"

And the answer is, of course, yes. This embarrassing little man stuck in a cage of his making instills fear beyond comprehension in Astarion and all his siblings. This man who undoubtedly showed all these spawn, inadvertently, the strangest, most arguably "human" aspects of himself at some point or another during these two centuries they had together is also an absolute monster. And i really like that! I think its far more effective and fitting for his story than if he was, lets say, a Ketheric type.

(this got very long so, more under the cut)

Look at Ascended Astarion in the epilogue now, for example. Everyone agrees that he's an absolute fucking dork - and I think we all also agree that he will go on to destroy the lives of many people beyond repair, especially his own, until the day he is killed.

In the topic of vampirism as an allegory for abuse, I both agree and also don't, at least not exactly - i just think it's deeper than that. I've spoken about this in another post but i find it incredibly refreshing how, to me, it seems like Baldur's Gate 3 has no interest in painting vampirism as sexy or fun past a surface level. It's a curse that nobody asks for unless put in a situation where they feel as if they have no other way out, and it shapes and haunts you for the rest of your undead existence.

Even if you enjoy its benefits at first, that has a time limit. You will see your family and loved ones die, you will see culture evolve while you stay perpetually the same. You will experience so much hurt and pain because the only thing that makes life truly sweet is knowing that it is finite, and eventually it will wear down all of your humanity. And since you can't die unless you are scorched by the sun, staked, or dismembered, you must live with the knowledge that you will never have a peaceful death - and since you won't have a peaceful death, you better not die - and if you don't want to die, you better not be weak - and if you don't want to be weak, you must seek out power at all cost and slash things like love and friendship out of your life.

And what is funny, is that in his attempt to be more like a mortal - to eat, drink, walk the sun, such incredibly simple desires - Cazador (and Astarion, if he ascends) is accidentally only drawing further away from the person he supposedly once was, because that fear of weakness has already utterly corrupted his soul.

That's quite a grim way to look at it, of course. But I genuinely think that it is the natural conclusion of something like immortality.

That's why I quite like that, even after Astarion has found happiness, even after he finds his peace, he still doesn't exactly embrace being a vampire - because It's not something he should be expected to embrace. I think it's a very unique take on the trope.

I also want to leave here this message written by his character writer, which really got me thinking about him on a deeper level since i saw it months ago. It is specifically about the sexual aspect, but I think it branches beyond it too, when you think about it.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #text #ask #cazador szarr

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teyamsatan · 10 months

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ꜰᴀʟꜱᴇ ɢᴏᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪ: ɪ'ʟʟ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ

pairing: dilf!Jake Sully x (f)human/avatar!reader

synopsis: It took a lot of time and advancements, but, with the humans' return to Pandora 8 years ago, and thanks to the constant raids of the Omaticaya, the scientists managed to make you and Spider an Avatar. Unlike him, though, you know nothing about and want nothing to do with it, and when your struggle to adapt becomes too overbearing, Jake decided to take matters into his own hands.

this story will contain an unhealthy, co-dependent relationship, and dark themes (smut, mental health, death, violence, infidelity), so pls read at your own discretion.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, angst, age-gap (23 vs 43), pet names.

wc: 4.5k words

a/n: hi besties, and welcome to my first jake series! i have had this series in my mind for so so long, and it feels good to bring it to life finally. i am excited to get back into writing - i needed a little time to recharge after monster in me, and take a break and actually sleep and live my life hahahaha. anyway, i hope you enjoy this story, i'm so excited to write it and see where it takes me! xx

ps: this story will move perspectives and timelines a lott, so i hope it's not too confusing but pls do let me know if it is and i'll figure something out xx

replies and reblogs are massively appreciated, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: tanhi - bioluminescent freckles, tsamsiyu - warrior, tawtute - human

series masterlist (x)

I want you to know, I’m a mirrorball I’ll show you every version of yourself tonight

It was excruciating, the pain. It was never-ending, never relenting, it was enough to warrant the current position you found yourself in, curled up on your bed, knees brought close to your chest, hands grasping at your worn-down pyjamas, that much like everything else in this room, smelled like him, felt like him, was imbued with his presence and the memories he’s left that you’d never be able to forgive or forsake. Glossed-over eyes moved slowly through your room, at all the little trinkets you now had that you didn’t just a few months, all of them sharp and painful as they felt like they were digging painfully in you, leaving cuts and bruises in your already broken heart. Eventually, your gaze settled on a feather you were given the first day in your Avatar body, and it was an appropriate place to stop, as this was when it all began - this whole mess, that you were still debating whether it was worth it, worth all this, but which, at the time, was a pure and innocent new start, in a new body, in a new life.

I'll get you out on the floor Shimmering beautiful And when I break it's in a million pieces

“Come on, honey, it’s late already. You know life in the village starts early.”

The dragging of your feet did very little to make you appear more enthusiastic than you were feeling currently, and Norm sighed as he took it your deflated predisposition. It should be a happy time. You knew that. How many people can say that got a new chance, at a new life, on this planet that felt weirdly in between a home and a prison? A new chance to belong - the first one, actually. A chance to thrive and to experience this world the way it was meant to be experienced, the way that the natives experienced it. And yet, a few weeks in, you still felt like a complete stranger in a body you couldn’t recognise, in a culture that has never been your own, in a village that has never accepted you, that never ceased to look at you and see through you, right to the flimsy core of insecurities and self-doubts that plagued you constantly, that followed you everywhere you went, like a shadow in a dimly-lit room.

You looked across the room where the other neuro-link pod was being prepped, and next to it stood the only other young, human, adult on Pandora - your brother for all intents and purposes, the boy who you loved always, but hated in the moment, as you watched his lively and animated body language, practically beaming with anticipation. Spider, unlike you, settled in his new taller, bluer, shinier body almost immediately - a born acrobat, a made warrior, even before the Avatars were complete. He had no such compulsions, no shame or guilt, no embarrassment or anxiety, no feelings of inadequacy or imposter syndrome, just a pure, unadulterated joie de vivre and unquenchable fear of missing out. He got everything he’s ever wanted with that Avatar, and unlike you, he didn’t seem willing to squander the opportunity. You knew you should be more like him, and you were trying. The effort just wasn’t enough to overthrow the paralysing fear you felt every time you stepped foot in that village. You wondered if it ever will.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, doing your very best to ignore the racket coming from just a few pods over, you allowed Norm to close the lid on top of your caged body, doing your very best to clear your head of the screaming voice that got louder by the second, the harder you tried. You’ll never make it. You will never be one of the people.

Hush When no one is around, my dear You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you

Life in the village did indeed start early, and while you walked away from Hell’s Gate and through the thick forest that surrounded you, you could already hear faint sounds coming from the general direction of the Omaticaya settlement, a dead giveaway people were preparing for what the day would inevitably bring, from training in the healing practices of the Tsa’hik or the warrior skills of the tsamsiyu, it was the relentless will to improve and contribute to the overall wellness of each other and their planet that fuelled Na’vi every day.

Soon enough, the carefully crafted tents came into view, each one unique to the owner, with pieces of bone or hides that gave it a personal, intimate appeal, and it was easy enough, once you knew the people, to be able to tell who each tent belonged to. You smiled as your eyes fixed on one tent in particular, small and understated, despite who it was inhabiting it - Neteyam, future Olo’eyktan, never found any use for unnecessary embellishments, be it on his person or any of his belongings, always preferring to keep the showing off to the actual battle or training, his impressive skill set and his ability to thrive in every challenge his brightest adornment. When he came out of it, like he could sense you were near, your smile widened taking him in, in all his tall, blue, muscular beauty. He was a handsome young man, the perfect mix between Neytiri and… him. He used to look more like his mother when he was younger, but now, all of 23 years old, he was more and more Jake with each passing day, and the thought both intrigued and scared you, almost in equal parts.

It intrigued you because, well… because there was something special about Jake, there always has been. Not just because he was the first and only human to do the consciousness transfer, to be accepted into the clan, to become one of the people, or that he was Toruk Makto, one of only 6 to have ever existed; not because he was Olo’eyktan, and a revered warrior and leader… but because he was him. He was kind and patient, he was sweet and caring, he was funny and fun… he was everything.

On the other hand, it was for the exact same reasons that Neteyam’s resemblance to his dad scared you. Because every time you looked at him, you saw Jake, and the feelings you harboured for him since you were old enough to pay attention, that dwindled in time, were mingled with the deep familial affection you felt for Neteyam, who has been your best friend since you were old enough to... well, have memories. You didn’t want your relationship with him to be marred by feelings you couldn’t, wouldn’t ever feel for him, you didn’t want your history erased by the possibility of more, not when it would be wrong - not when, at your core, you would just settle for him because you couldn’t get the person you really wanted.

“Oi! A little late for the mighty warrior to be coming out of his tent, isn’t it?”

Neteyam snickered as he noticed you and Spider approaching, and shook his hand in Spider’s direction.

“Why is she this mean only to me?”

Spider shrugged and patted Neteyam on the shoulder simpathetically.

“Girls, man… Am I right? Anyway, going to find Lo’ak and Kiri. See you guys on the training grounds.”

Hush I know they said the end is near But I'm still on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you

As Spider took his leave, almost skipping to the Tsa’hik’s tent, where he knew Kiri would be, you started walking quietly, anxiety rising in your chest with each step taken towards the grounds, where you’d once again, as you have for the past few weeks, prove to yourself and everyone around you that you weren’t made for this - the fighting, the battles, the wielding of death machines, be it a gun or a bow, none of it was yours to take, yours to concur. You were made for the labs, for the quiet, analytical lifestyle. You were made for wielding a guitar, and playing it until the strings broke, you were made for daydreams and illusions and fantasies you could only fathom yourself part of, for a happier, easier world that would allow you to be all of those things without incursions. Alas, the world was not what you envisioned for yourself when you were younger, and with this great opportunity, came sacrifices you hoped time would lessen and sweeten, and turn them into blessings in disguise.

“Are you ready for today?”

“Does that make a difference?”

Neteyam’s sigh was answer enough for you. He tried to help, he really did. He went above and beyond for you and you were grateful. He was a patient teacher and a great friend, and his determination, as always, came at a cost, the cost of another burden he had to carry, another person he had to parent and take care of, and while it was not lost on you, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

“You’re going to be okay. You just have to give yourself time to grow. You can’t compare yourself with Spider, who’s been in the village with us his whole life. It’s going to take you time and effort, but you can do this, Tawte. And I’ll be here, at every step, ready to catch you if you fall.”

You smiled a little, slightly distracted, as you always were, by his sweet nickname, and your thoughts flowed gently at the memories that stirred in you whenever he said it, at the way the first word he ever uttered as a babe was a slurred version of a word he heard all the time from his mother: tawtute... human. From her mouth, it was laced with poison and disdain, but not from Neteyam's, who loved you, ever since you were young, who accepted you for who you were. Tawte was a gentle reminder of how far you've come, and how the familial love between the two of you hasn't faltered through time, but only blossomed and deepened, much to your eternal gratitude.

And they called off the circus, burned the disco down When they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me

Your eyes, hidden behind a sea of glossy tears settled on the next item, the broken tip of an arrow, that you kept since that day, when you somehow did so poorly in bow practice, you managed to break an incredibly sturdy arrow, much to Spider and Lo'ak's amusement, and much to your deep dismay. You thought how about your feelings of inadequacy were exacerbated by the Olo'eyktan's watchful eyes, who observed you intently the whole time, and how that inadvertently set everyone's gaze on you. So many eyes - watching, judging...fearful; so many words - whispered and snickered, and it hurt. It all hurt. But then... he changed everything, not just in that moment, so far removed from you now, but for the rest of your life, with just a few simple words.

“What?” the shock couldn't be shaken off your face, no matter how hard you tried. You knew you needed to get a grip of your emotions, but that was always easier said than done for a girl who was aptly described her whole life as "wearing her heart on her sleeve".

“Ouch, kid. You’re hurting my feelings. I would have liked to think anyone would be honoured to be personally trained by the Olo’eyktan, but I think I’ve been humbled.”

“No, Jake… of-of course I am, I just think… your efforts are better spent on someone else, someone… who’s worthy of it.”

It was minuscule, the change, but it was there - his eyes, his smile had an edge to them, that wasn't there before. He wasn't happy with your words, and yet, he remained calm and maintained the easy, outgoing, friendly nature of his tone.

“How about you let me decide what my efforts are better spent on, kid?”

That was enough to shut you up, but when he noticed the purple tinge in your cheeks, and the way your gaze dropped in shame, his expression softened. He brought a hand to your face, his thumb grazing your chin so that you'd look up at him, and you hoped the shudder that tried you went unnoticed to him, and to the rest of the clan.

“Here’s the deal. I think part of the reason you are having such a hard time is because you’re here, in this village you’ve never truly been a part of, with so many watchful eyes on you. You feel the pressure of performing well in front of the people, in front of my kids… in front of Spider. You shouldn’t have to do that. So, my solution is simple: you and I go for a few days’ hunt. I will teach you the basics, like I learnt when I first joined the Omaticaya. This way you get to relax a little, get to remove yourself from this place for a while and enjoy the beauty of Pandora, and who knows, kid? Maybe you'll find it's easier to be a part of us than you ever could have imagined. What do you say, mm?"

I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try

How could you have said no to such an offer? Even now, with all this hindsight, standing on the edge of a cliff with so much room beneath you to fall, with one foot on the ledge and the other on a banana fruit peel, able to look at the situation from a vantage point you only got with all the months of history you've amassed, even now... you still would say yes. Because no matter the pain and the hurt that now seeped into you like rain through the cracks in the withered, dry ground, soaking into every facet of it... just like the rain, his presence and memory also gave you life, a purpose, a way to go on. And you wouldn't give that up, not while there was still breath in your lungs.

So you said yes. And you left, that same day, on the back on his beautiful ikran, for a long ride that would take you somewhere deep in lands you've never experienced before, away from whispers and prying eyes, away from the doubt and the fear. As you were flying far above the world you've known and loved your whole life, that scared you your whole life, you couldn't help but think of what Jake was doing, and feel grateful for it. You thought about how it only consolidated the way you've always viewed him, as a great warrior, a great father, a great mentor... a great man. You thought about your crush, and how it embarrassed you as a teenager, and how you couldn't look him in the eye whenever he came to the lab and asked you a question, how you couldn't be around him without thinking you're gonna catch fire. That was long ago.

It passed, you thought. The crush, slightly weird and completely unattainable, passed through time. Yet here you stood, bare back, yet another foreign feeling you were trying to get used to, flush against his muscular chest, his palm protectively wrapped around your abdomen, and somehow, you forgot to take in the beauty of this world you’ve never seen from such a high vantage point, forgot to enjoy the fact you were literally flying, the air flowing through your luscious, thick hair… you forgot to breathe.

“You okay there, kid? Tell me if this is overwhelming, we can take a break.”

“N-no. I’m alright…Thank you.”

“Good girl.”

I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me

Jake struggled to rationalise how things could have ever ended up this way. How did this happen? A few short months ago, it seemed, his life was... normal, or as normal as life could be in the middle of an ongoing territorial war with a species that was once his own, that he now disowned, that he now despised most days. Still. Normal. The same way it had been since he arrived on Pandora, since he mated with Neytiri, since he had one kid, and then another, and another...

He's known you since you were born. He took pity on you, much like he did Spider, for the cruelness of the Universe, for whatever it took for you to be born on this planet he loved, but knew was inhospitable to those who weren't made for it. Aliens. That was about the extent of your similarities to Spider, though. Unlike him, you were sweet, docile, quiet. You never came out to the village, and the few times you did, you just stood in a corner, on some tree stump, clinging to Neteyam like a little lost puppy.

How did it end up this way? It was wrong, it was all wrong. He knew it in his heart he had to stop, and he's been trying... so hard, it was all so hard. In these months, despite his mind telling him otherwise, urging him to consider all he stood to lose, he still ended up putting his life, everything he's built up on the line for you, doing things that frightened him, ashamed him, embarrassed him, but that he couldn't stop doing because it was you. And you were everything, and the way you made him feel was everything. And it all started that night.

The training was not necessarily any less painful than it had been, but he was right - it was easier. He was a good teacher, you told him. You say you understood now where Neteyam got it from, his penchant for imparting wisdom in a calm, collected and patient manner. He went through all the basics, and after a good few hours, he felt like you were almost... relaxed. By eclipse, you were hunched over food that he was preparing over fire, while practicing your Na'vi - the only thing you felt comfortable enough to call yourself good in, and for the first time since you got your Avatar, you looked... happy. You needed this and he knew it. You didn't even know it for yourself, but he knew. And thinking about it, and him, made you blurt out a secret you held in your soul for years and years, before your mind had enough time to talk you out of it.

“I used to have a crush on you, you know?” You chuckled a little, and Jake was fascinated by the sound, which sounded less like a laugh and more like bells chiming in the wind, and by the purple tinge of your cheeks as you confessed something that he couldn’t believe his ears, that were now pushed back flat in shock.

“You used to have a crush on me?”

His tone amused you even further, it seemed, because you brought a hand to your mouth to stifle the sound Jake felt a sudden desire to continue hearing for the rest of his life.

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I don’t know, kid, just… never thought out of everyone in this village, and the labs, people your own age, including my kids and Spider, you’d ever have a crush on an old man like me.” He chuckles his own rugged, awkward laugh and looks over at you, the way he couldn’t stop himself doing, it seemed, to gauge for a reaction that he didn’t know whether he wanted to see.

“I think that was part of the charm, actually.” As you catch yourself talking, you stop and turn, the tinge in your cheeks no longer a tinge but a splash of violent colour as you pat yourself aggressively with both hands, to release some of the heat that pooled unwelcome in your face. “I… I really should not… say things.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused and intrigued at the new development. “So you like ‘em older, huh, kid? Always the shy and quiet ones, ain’t that so?”

You retreat further in yourself at the way he just called you out, unconsciously making yourself smaller by bringing your knees in and wrapping your arms around them, your face buried in between your legs in embarrassment and you let out a small groan. You couldn’t believe this was happening to you. First time in your life you were fully alone with this great man, this man that is a legend, that will have history books written about him even back on Earth, this man that knew so much and achieved enough to last lifetimes and instead of learning from him, instead of doing what you came here to do to begin with, here you are, running your mouth faster than your brain could catch up, making sure you would never be able to look him in the eyes ever again.

“Are you still playing that guitar of yours? You used to drive Neytiri crazy with that thing when you were young.”

“Yeah, I still play, just, I keep it to the rec centre mostly.”

“Why?”

“I just... don’t want to bother anyone.”

You sounded sad, too sad. He saw your eyes swimming with tears and he cringed at the way he was unable to make you feel fully comfortable around him. This shouldn't be this hard.

“Ah, kid… you can play in the village. The Omaticaya love music, they’re called the Flute Clan for cryin’ out loud. They just need time.”

“It’s been 23 years.”

Jake didn’t push anymore, not when you were right. It’s been a long enough time, but some things… some things don’t get better with time. Jake’s always hated that stupid old saying anyway.

“Y’know… I play a little guitar, too.” He scoffs a little as he thinks more about it. “Well, used to play. Probably not any good anymore, but at some point, I used to be.”

Your eyes shoot to him and the glimmer in them makes Jake’s mind come to a standstill - they were so beautiful. You were so beautiful.

“Really? That’s amazing!” And just like that, your previous outburst was swiftly forsaken and forgotten, the new piece of information far too exciting for you to dwell on anything else. “How come I’ve never heard you? You should play for us sometime.”

Jake smiled a sorrowful smile that stopped short of reaching his eyes. “Just… haven’t had the chance.”

There were a lot of reasons Jake hasn’t done so many of the things that used to bring him joy when he was human. But ya win some, ya lose some, that was always his philosophy for life anyway. He had so much to be grateful for in this life, so much more than he ever thought possible for a grunt like him. The Universe has been more than generous in compensating him for a lifetime of resentment and regrets, and so if he had to give certain things up, that he did so without thinking twice about it.

“So how did you learn?”

“My old man taught me, probably the only thing he ever taught me, unless you count how to run a backdoor draw while high off your ass.” Jake lets out a humourless laugh, enjoying the look of confusion plastered all over your face, and the way your tanhì seemed to shine brighter when you ruminated over something in your head. Your nose crinkles a little, as his words register fully in your ears and they twitch, and the humourless laugh quickly evolves in a warm, inward smile.

You were beautiful, he ends up acknowledging yet again, taking in all the mannerisms that somehow escaped him all these years.

“A what?”

Jake chuckles, shaking his head. “Nevermind.”

“Did you not… get along with your dad?”

Jake finds himself, for the first time in years, too many years, thinking about his dad and his life as a young kid back on Earth, and all the shitty memories that came along with that thought, memories he’s tried to repress most of his life. He catches yet another sigh before it escapes him, a habit he’s seemed to have quickly picked up in your presence, as you asked questions most people never did, questions he didn’t want to answer, questions he wanted nothing more than to be asked.

“My dad was a mean ol’ dog, who liked women and booze more than he ever liked Tommy or me. I could never find it in me to care when he died.” That was morbid, he recognises, but it needed to be said. Something about you just makes him want to just… confess things he shouldn’t be feeling, and shouldn’t be saying out loud, and yet here he was, heart thumping and palms sweating almost nervously, and the word vomit didn’t seem like it was anywhere close to over.

“He made mean sloppy joes, though. And he played the guitar like he was born with a six-string in his hands.” There were some good memories. The memory of his dad teaching young squirt Jake Future Days, his old, cigarette-imbued hoarse voice singing the lyrics that still had the power to bring tears to his eyes… that was one of the good ones.

You smiled as he spoke, a warm, inviting smile, that made the breath catch in his lungs and begged him to spill all the secrets that he tried so hard to bury deep inside, and he feels his stomach drop when he realises the feelings you invoked in him, for the first time in his life, were no longer ones he could justify or explain, but ones that demanded to be felt.

The silence was heavy and awkward after that, or so he thought, and he watched you as you ruminated over his words, as you nibbled at the fish he managed to catch while teaching you the basics of fishing. He shouldn't have said it, any of it. What the hell does he think he's doing, going around confessing the depths of his somewhat bitter soul to a kid who knew nothing about life, and who shouldn't have to carry his burdens to begin with. Maybe coming here was a mistake. Maybe being alone with you... was a mistake.

"You should go to sleep, kid. There's a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and the sooner we're done, the sooner your life can go back to normal."

You nodded gently and obliged.

“I think you’re lying.” You say, as you turn your back to him, closing your eyes and preparing yourself to return to your human body, as soon as sleep would find you. “I think you cared. I think you still care. And it’s ok to care. Sometimes… people are horrible and they suck… and we love them anyway. And I think that’s what makes humans special… and good.”

Jake was too stunned to be able to say anything else, as he stared mouth-agape at your back.

“Sleep well, Jake.”

Maybe he did lie. Maybe life will never go back to normal again and the thought... the thought terrified him.

Because I'm a mirrorball I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself Tonight

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venussaidso · 4 months

Text

𝗞𝗲𝘁𝘂 𝗗𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲𝘀 — 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 (part 1) 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏𝟎

disclaimer: spoilers for all movies or shows mentioned.

the warnings: mentions of drug abuse, sexual violence, self-harm, genocide, mental disorders/illnesses, cannibalism and self amputation.

The most interesting theme within all the Ketu nakshatras was one that was unexpected, as it is common to mainly associate Ketu with concepts of disconnection or isolation from society as a whole -- since Ketu is often linked with the 12H. But it is more about the interactions with the unseen forces within society more than anything. Because the 12H also represents the collective's consciousness and all the interconnected energies that come with that which Ketu becomes possessed by. And it is Ashwini that is the most sensitive Ketu nakshatra, as it easily becomes consumed & absorbed by these 12H energies which often leads to chaos and loneliness.

Ashwini nakshatra embodies Nothingness which is the oldest energy in the universe. It's between a space before actualized creation, and after the rise of awareness that's emerged from Nothingness (or the Cosmic Void). It is very fitting that this is the first nakshatra; but it should also be considered the last as it essentially represents the non-duality of Life & Death. This theme is further extended in Bharani and beautifully explored in that nakshatra, but in Ashwini we focus on the spirit's evolution. The energy found in this nakshatra is as undeveloped as it is chaotic, which is why evolution needs to take place -- and this usually involves extreme harsh forces to tame it. It is in Ashwini where there's confusion or lack of self-awareness of one's own identity as energies here become repressed, unconsciously accumulating. I'm going to use some films as examples to explore this point.

First, I'm going to use the most typical Ketu-coded character. Ashwini Moon Christian Bale's Patrick Bateman in "American Psycho". This film follows an investment banker who relishes in the wealthy excesses of his superficial lifestyle in which everybody else around him also revels in. His life is empty, mostly revolving around getting into exclusive restaurants, wallowing in designer suits, having a meticulous morning routine etc. There's a pressure in general for conformity and Ashwini is sensitive to these energies which they take up, driving them to compete and also go too far with this -- because it's no longer about conforming anymore. It's become an obsession, and these pressures drive Patrick Bateman into homicidal tendencies as an outlet. This film perfectly encapsulates modern-day consumerisms, and it is of course an Ashwini native who is driven into a descent of madness from this empty, superficial culture he's subjected to.

Nothing can fill up the emptiness inside of him and he knows that. This crippling, painful understanding is what continuously manifests his violent self-hatred and hatred towards others. And this is why he is forever trapped in a cycle of loneliness, as he is surrounded by the same narcissistic, self-absorbed suits who will continue to maintain this soulless, superficial culture.

The movie was adapted from the book with the same name, written by Mula Moon Bret Easton Ellis whose own experiences inspired the book "American Psycho".

Quote from an interview; OregonLive (2010);

"[Patrick Bateman] did not come out of me sitting down and wanting to write a grand sweeping indictment of yuppie culture. It initiated because my own isolation and alienation at a point in my life. I was living like Patrick Bateman. I was slipping into a consumerist kind of void that was supposed to give me confidence and make me feel good about myself but just made me feel worse and worse and worse about myself. That is where the tension of 'American Psycho' came from... It came from a much more personal place."

-- Mula Moon Bret Easton Ellis

Now, onto the movie "Fight Club", which was directed by Magha Sun David Fincher, and stars Magha Sun Edward Norton and Mula Sun Brad Pitt.

The most highlighted character from this film, played by Brad Pitt, is Tyler Durden, who plans on making a revolution to destroy the hyper-capitalistic, materialistic superficial culture that we saw destroy Patrick Bateman from the inside in "American Psycho".

(video - 🎧)

Of course, just like Ashwini Moon Patrick Bateman took his obsessive consumerism too far; Mula Sun Tyler Durden lays on the opposite spectrum -- aiming to destroy modern society by blowing up all credit card companies and ruining the world's economy. Mula is related to destruction as it is ruled by Nirriti, the goddess of destruction. The oppressive forces that weigh on this Mula character, Tyler Durden, causes him into a spiral for freedom (9H), using extremities and acts of terrorism to be rid of ego/society. Whereas Ashwini, having no solid identity and just being undeveloped in nature, is more likely to conform; but so long as Ketu is there, there will always be an emptiness in the ambitious pursuit of things. Ashwini can grant excess wealth and fame, but with no inner fulfillment or balance, you see characters like Patrick Bateman. Or Daniel Plainview from "There Will Be Blood".

A movie directed by Paul Thomas Anderson who has Ketu in Magha, and stars Ashwini Moon, Mula Ascendant Daniel Day Lewis who portrays Daniel Plainview. Plainview is more Ashwini, as he is an extremely ambitious, capitalistic and competitive oilman.

His pursuit for wealth and power leads him to personal loneliness, isolation and emptiness -- we see how Ketuvians become so drained and eaten alive by the energies they absorb in the pursuit of things. Similarly to Patrick Bateman, he not only hates others but himself and wishes for no one to succeed in life.

(click on the gif(s) if they're buffering lmao, i swear they're cheap)

His primal competitiveness and self-loathing even drives away his only family -- his only child. His adult son means to do his own oilrig business and cuts his partnership with him. But Plainview's unchecked ambition shows that even after attaining success and power, he literally goes ahead to disown his own son as he considers him competition now. And now he extends the same hatred he has for others to him. Further isolating himself; this validating his deep sense of loneliness that was always there with his self-loathing.

The film ends in an Ashwini fashion; in which Plainview goes into a psychotic meltdown and murders someone who he has had a long stewing hatred for.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

youtube

I wanted to provide a brilliant video from the YouTuber "The Vile Eye", who explored the dark nature of this character; because it perfectly illustrates Ashwini nakshatra in a twisted way -- especially in how Aries in this segment is influenced by Ketu forces. Everything about this character is every Aries stereotype you can think of from the top of your head, but Ketu exaggerates it to the point of extremity and tragedy.

youtube

Amazing video for anyone who wants to understand Ashwini at its extreme which can manifest in real life of course.

Now in the series "Peaky Blinders", which I quickly wanted to mention, stars Ashwini Moon Cillian Murphy whose character faces moral dilemmas, as his relentless pursuit of power contributes to his moral ambiguity.

His ruthless ambition to become the most powerful in the criminal underworld is something I couldn't help but relate it back to Ashwini's drive & competitiveness.

The movie "Scarface" stars Ashwini Sun Al Pacino who plays Tony Montana. And fun fact, Tony Montana is loosely based and inspired by the real-life figure, Al Capone, who was literally a goddamn Ashwini Moon. So, I say Scarface is a fucking Ashwini movie.

Both Tony Montana and Al Capone had unchecked ambitions and an unrelenting desire for power. In Ashwini, extreme power can be attained, and we saw how Tony Montana quickly rose to it (as Ashwini is the Star of Transport and it is associated with Shidhra Vyapani Shakti which translates to 'The Power to Quickly Reach Things'). Similarly, Al Capone was also driven by the desire for power and he attained it.

Like Daniel Plainview in "There Will Be Blood", Tony Montana starts to experience isolation after all of his achievements. His chaotic behaviour contributes to his alienation, and he starts to feel intensifying loneliness, which seems to be a theme with this nakshatra. And this film also ends in Ashwini fashion; with absolute chaos, the psychotic unraveling of Tony and of course death.

I wanted to also add in the movie "Nightcrawler" which stars Mula Sun Jake Gyllenhaal who plays a character willing to go to the extreme lengths for success and personal achievement, to the point of exploiting others and not giving two fucks about ethical boundaries.

He has a distorted view of success and has an unchecked, ruthless ambition which is common in Ketu nakshatras. He is also a socially isolated character, behaving inappropriately as he is disconnected from social norms. He lacks zero empathy. In his obsessive & relentless pursuit of success, he is devoid of humanity. Had to mention this film because these themes are not exclusive to Ashwini.

But as I did mention, Mula is more likely to be aware of societal pressures and these natives often feel deeply disturbed by them -- while Ashwini is more focused on the Self, as it's ruled by the 1H. In the film "Falling Down", Mula Moon Michael Douglas plays a character who has become disillusioned and is now aware of the pressures and oppression caused by the modern-day life. This movie is literally directed by Magha Sun Joel Schumacher.

He confronts many issues such as homelessness and crime, which are heavily rooted in the greedy, capitalistic system of modern society. But he becomes violent and chaotic himself, going into a descent to madness (from absorbing the energies felt by the collective who also feel the weight of these oppressive forces within society). This movie deals with the consequences of unchecked rage, a theme shared in all Ketu nakshatras.

The film "Taxi Driver", which stars Magha Sun Robert De Niro and is directed by Magha Ascendant Martin Scorsese, depicts a man who suffers from extreme loneliness, alienation from society, and struggles with existential crisis. The film explores social decay; such as social disparities, the disillusionment of our main character to society's ills, crime, poverty etc. He goes into a descent into vigilantism, using violence as a catharsis which is a common thing for these Ketu nakshatras (mainly Magha and Mula as it looks at societal frustrations and the emptiness in life/modern culture).

The character also suffers from a possible case of untreated mental illness, and insomnia -- and this seems to be a theme with all Ketu nakshatras in general.

Another film where the main character suffers from extreme insomnia is "The Machinist", starring Ashwini Moon Christian Bale whose character's insomnia and untreated mental illness literally contribute to his isolation and alienation.

will be coming back to this film in my part 2 post

And the film "Fight Club", in which Magha Sun Edward Norton plays an insomniac character who has dissociative identity disorder. And his split personality is interestingly played by Mula Sun Brad Pitt.

Then we have the film "Insomnia", directed by Ketu in Magha Christopher Nolan, starring Ashwini Sun Al Pacino who plays an insomniac detective who faces some mental challenges.

There is a spiritual belief about insomnia, which suggests that there may be a disturbance in one's spirit; unresolved issues that have been long suppressed can be linked to an imbalance of energy within the body. This causes restlessness and more mental problems. This could make sense as Ketu and the 12H deal with what is unconscious -- and how that tends to be our deep, rooted traumas and the way in which they affect us & those around us. And not just traumas, could just be repression of one's own internal suffering from either loneliness or external pressures. We see this with Patrick Bateman, whose only outlet is literal murder, or Tyler Durden's 'revolutionary' fight club causing more destruction around him as planned. Both characters violently act out from these unaddressed decaying energies within themselves and from within society.

The series "Sharp Objects", directed by Magha Moon Jean-Marc Vallé, mostly deals with family traumas, but also shows how those traumas and unresolved energies literally cause death and chaos around them.

Camille Preaker, who is played by Magha Sun Amy Adams, is deeply traumatized and troubled. She has a history of self-harm and has many scars on her body; her self-destructive behaviour is a coping mechanism for what happened when she was young (sexual violence by a group of boys and witnessing the slow, painful and preventative death of her sister). Then we have her younger half-sister Amma, played by Magha Moon Eliza Scanlen, who has a hidden dark side that has been shaped by the family's troubled history and generational trauma. By the end of the series, we find out that Amma is the killer of the violent murders that have shocked the townspeople of Wind Gap. It is Amma who is responsible for all of the gruesome deaths of the girls whose teeth were removed. As Camille's coping mechanism is cutting herself as self-punishment for all the guilt she harbours from the death of her sister, Amma literally commits homicidal acts. All of this connecting to just how messed up, and complex, their trauma and the community they grew up in is. And then we have their mother, played by Mula Moon Patricia Clarkson, who has Munchausen syndrome and is responsible for the death of her oldest daughter. Camille was a witness to her sister's suffering and death, and she sees her mother as a monster and now her little sister is an extension of her. This series is such a good example of how our own personal unchecked traumas affect others, especially those who aren't involved. And how much destruction can be caused, as we see with Amma killing other girls as an 'outlet'. This is why I now realize how wrong I was about Ketu, as Ketu is not necessarily about isolating from society. Regarding society, Ketu will be the complex yet intricate unaddressed/rotting energies within society, and it always relates back to individuals' personal generational traumas. It makes sense that Magha relates to ancestry roots and origins of oneself, even the origins of one's trauma.

Now onto the film "Nocturnal Animals", which is directed by Magha Sun Tom Ford, stars Magha Sun Amy Adams and Mula Sun Jake Gyllenhaal.

Amy Adams plays Susan who is a successful art gallery owner. She receives a manuscript for a novel called Nocturnal Animals sent to her by her ex-husband Edward who's played by Jake Gyllenhaal. The book is extremely violent & tragic; but it actually turns out to be a symbolic reflection of their relationship and marriage. Bringing in the Ketu themes of unresolved trauma and getting to the roots of it (Mula theme). This book serves to make Susan confront how much of her actions fucked him up. The movie focuses on the confronting of one's past, telling of how trauma will still continue to shape the lives of those involved. And the movie shows that even Susan still has unresolved issues just by her repulsed reactions to extreme parts of the novel.

The movies "Split" and "Glass", stars two Ashwini Suns, Anya Taylor Joy and James McAvoy. McAvoy's character, Kevin, has dissociative personality disorder and these different personalities exist to keep him safe. His trauma is so extreme and deeply painful that it manifested into the creation of The Beast, the most dangerous and superhuman personality. Three kidnapped girls are prey to The Beast as they end up being devoured by it but there is only one doesn't fall victim to him -- and that's Anya Taylor Joy's character Casey.

The reason why she doesn't fall victim is because she, too, has suffered extreme trauma and her resilience through it is what creates an immediate connection with Kevin. It is when The Beast sees her scars that he calls her pure, implying that those who have been damaged are the ones who are truly evolved.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

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Also, "Split" is another example of how deeply repressed energies and traumas of one can ruin everything around them and victimize those close to the Ketuvians (usually uninvolved people's lives being violently taken; "Split", "Sharp Objects", "American Psycho", "Falling Down" etc.).

Ashwini Moon Zendaya in the series "Euphoria" plays a character, Rue, who has been through a significant amount of trauma, including the passing of her father. She uses self-destructive ways to cope with her deep emotional pain and grief, very similarly to Magha Sun Amy Adams's character in "Sharp Objects". Rue uses drugs to numb herself from her harsh realities. There is a moment in the series in which she has a chaotic meltdown.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

youtube

Something I now understand with Ashwini is how explosive, volatile and scary its ungrounded energy can be -- exactly why I'd commonly associate it with hysterical meltdowns which can lead to accidental or unplanned homicidal acts or other forms of harm/self-harm. This scene of Rue is vaguely taking me back to Ashwini Moon Christian Bale's spiraling and meltdowns in "American Psycho".

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

youtube

Ketu, especially with Magha, seems to cause erratic behaviours when its natives aren't purified of their long-accumulated baggage in their unconsciousness -- exactly why the 8H is also ruled by Ketu as Scorpio shares this particular theme. As long as there is deep disturbance and imbalance in the body, there is no rest for the soul -- even for future incarnations to come.

But now, I want to touch on the senseless harshness of Ketu. Remember, this energy embodies the eternal sucking void. Mula nakshatra relates to the center of the cosmic void and goes straight into the roots of it. Ashwini has already risen from it, while Mula is centering itself back into it. Mula is where we seek an awakening to the truth of what is behind reality. What is on the other side of the cosmic void? Truth is searched in Mula, but it seems that it is Ashwini that understands that chaos is the absolute truth of reality. There is no meaning to anything, which sounds nihilistic, but it is what makes life beautiful.

In the film "The Pianist", written & directed by Magha Sun Roman Polanski, starring Ashwini Sun Adrien Brody, starts out quite warm with a well-put together family and a handsome talented Ashwini man who dreams of being a pianist. But things take a drastic turn. We see a once bright-eyed boy turn into the shell of the person he once was after going through such harrowing events, and things just keep getting tragically worse and worse until there is not even a sliver of hope anymore. The majority of the film is literally just despair, senseless cruelty, and the protagonist's soul slowly becoming annihilated.

I've never watched a film more Ketuvian than this; surrounded by genocide, death and being completely isolated while being eaten by one's own lonely misery.

One moment you think one character is going to make it out alive somehow because they have the conviction and drive to survive, but the film immediately takes that idea away as they helplessly die. You think the protagonist is going to see some light, and the film even makes you slightly comfortable in some moments given the harsh realities, but you witness just how everything remains tragic. There are no answers to any prayers, as suffering is just ongoing. This tonality creates another layer of feeling trapped, and you watch as the character just lets life do whatever it wants to him as he is trapped in a world where he is helpless anyway. With Ketu, you realize that there was never any security or answers to this senseless chaos in this world to begin with.

But his survival at the end makes you question why he even went through all of that. There was no lesson to be taken from such a tragic, horrifying experience. Why did his other friends and family die but not him? In the end, he became a successful pianist as he dreamt of from the beginning. He was exceptionally talented from the start; these events took everything away from him except his passion for the piano. What he went through was senseless, as Ketu has no prime motivation. Saturn will push you through the worst so that you can reach a level where you can now attain all of your reaped rewards, Ketu doesn't care for what you get in the end -- that's Rahu's objective, as Rahu deals with ego; Ketu deals with the evolution of one's soul and that usually involves its annihilation.

The kdrama "Save Me", stars three Ketu natives; Magha Moon Seo Yea-ji, Mula Moon Woo Do-hwan and Mula Sun Ok Taec-yeon. It follows Seo Yeah-ji's character, Sang-mi, and her family after moving into a new town. They become influenced and entangled by a religious cult. Sang-mi becomes aware of just how oppressive and dangerous the cult is when she & her family literally lose all control to them. Sang-mi's attempts to escape become futile, as she remains trapped under the oppressive abuse of the cult, turning her more into a shell of the person she once was.

(The Mula male characters are the ones who find out about the Magha girl's whereabouts, and they plan to save her and her family from the clutches of the cult.)

She witnesses extremely harrowing events, and the drama makes you feel the sense of hopelessness that she's feeling -- trapped and completely helpless no matter how much she tries to save herself and family. There is a similar sense of hopelessness and lose of one's own identity found in "The Pianist", but in this drama it's more about extreme involuntary isolation from society (which I will be expanding on in part 2 of this exploration).

The film "Society of the Snow" is literally directed by Ashwini Moon J.A. Bayona, based on real life events. There's a documentary based on these events as well, "Stranded: I've Come From A Plane That Crashed On The Mountains", directed by Magha Moon Gonzalo Arijon.

Now, in the "Society of the Snow", there is a tone of hopelessness set in the film because of the gruesome reality that these characters (based on real life people) experience. And never in their lifetime did they think that everything was going to change so drastically from just living the average life of normal teenage boys. These characters, who were in a rugby team, get on a plane that would soon crash onto glacier surrounded by endless cold harsh mountains -- with just a piece of the wrecked plane remaining in which they take shelter in. The protagonists are surrounded by the dead bodies of friends who did not survive the crash, and now they must spend the first night in harsh coldness while many are severely injured. They couldn't even sleep, the first night being spent with many of them crying and wailing out loud, nearly freezing to death. One day after, a rescue helicopter searches for them, and they all scream out for help. But the helicopter misses them as they're barely noticeable under all the glacier that surrounds them. This is when the sense of hopelessness and despair kicks in and intensifies as the story progresses. Now that chances of being rescued have completely fallen to zero, they realize that they can't ignore their growing hunger anymore. They all have no choice but to eat the flesh of the dead bodies after running out of chocolates. We see how these decisions mentally challenge some of the characters. It is truly tragic as they were stranded, isolated from the world and completely in despair in every waking day, for a span of 72 days.

After being rescued, we see just how malnourished they were from the looks of their bodies. They come back home bone-skinny and weak. And the monologue in the ending scene tells us how the survivors wondered; "Why didn't we all get to come back [home]?" "What is the meaning of it all?" These are the questions asked when we observe these raw Ketu events.

Ashwini Moon J.A. Bayona also made the film "The Impossible", which is about survival and resilience -- based on real life events. Much like "Society of the Snow", it also has a sense of complete despair and there is an involuntary separation of a family (which reminds me of "The Pianist" in which Ashwini Sun Adrien Brody's character is also separated from his family in the story).

"Nothing is more powerful than the human spirit" it writes on the poster.

"Nowhere", is directed by Ashwini Moon Albert Pintó, a survival thriller about a pregnant woman who finds herself isolated from society as she's drifting in the sea trapped inside a container. Because of her newborn baby, she is forced to survive and protect her child even when there is no hope. The reason why she's even in the container is because she was fleeing a society of a dystopian future in which women & children are caged and murdered (Ketu's oppressive forces and her attempt to run away from them leads her to total isolation which is another manifestation of Ketu).

And we also have the film "127 Hours", directed by Ashwini Moon Danny Boyle, starring Ashwini Sun James Franco who plays Aron Ralston whose right arm becomes trapped against the canyon wall when he was on a solo canyoneering trip. When he is unable to release himself, we realize the severity of his situation. He is completely isolated and alone. His own supplies running out and he's losing his mind. The struggle for survival and one's own helplessness is a theme of Ashwini nakshatra as this eventually drives one into taking extreme measures for freedom -- as the audience sees him resorting to cutting his own arm off.

These themes seem to speak of the power and resilience of the human spirit, as emphasized in "The Impossible" and "Society of the Snow". Our ability to survive even just our own personal traumas must be a testament to our spirit being an extension of the Higher Power which is behind the happenings of all of these senseless yet significant experiences and events we go through.

It is in Ashwini that one's experience through harsh forces contributes to the spirit's evolution after total annihilation, which leads us on the path towards moksha. This is particularly why I state that Ashwini must be the last nakshatra, in my opinion of course.

Ketu is very pure by nature, and it wants to destroy impurities. The repression of one's accumulated dirt can manifest in destructive tendencies, this being a misdirected flow of Ketu energies wanting to express the very raw forces we're wired to run away from. By facing one's true inner self and embracing your entirety is how you embrace Ketu in general. But one must go deep and inward. All three Ketu nakshatras deal with getting to the roots for this reason.

Ashwini is ruled by the Ashwini Kumaras, gods of medicine and healing. Also known as divine physicians. In order to heal, one must get to the root of all disturbances in order to create the perfect medicine to heal. As Ashwini is ruled by the 1H, this does involve getting into the roots of oneself for self-liberation. Magha, on the other hand, is about tracing your own existence back to the consciousness of others -- usually family members and ancestors. Magha relates to generational trauma and shining light on that in order to be freer. Mula is symbolized by the roots of a tree, and 'mula' translates to 'roots'. It signifies ancestry roots as well, but mostly the truth. Mula is where disillusionment takes place as one gets directly into the roots of everything; going right into the galactic center -- which can also signify going right into the roots of our demons and letting all of that rotting energy burn from your body. And after this purification process, one's consciousness raises by default.

Ashwini has strong, undeveloped energies which can be tamed and grounded to be properly channeled -- in order for this to be achieved, one must let go of poisonous impurities so that they're no longer controlled/possessed by unseen forces. It is in Ashwini that we expand on the interconnection of the collective consciousness being tight, as this was secretly discovered in Uttara Bhadrapada and remembered in Revati. Ashwini nakshatra is extremely sensitive to outward energies, as are the rest of the Ketu nakshatras. Every individual's consciousness is affecting the whole world somehow. This being a Ketu theme in general describes the whole energetic field of the world and how we each play a part in it and affect each other's lives. As all Ketu nakshatras deal with getting into the roots of things, we must get dirty by digging into our own roots which are connected to the reasons for our layers of repressed emotions such as rage, numbness, resentment, hatred and grief which are commonly harboured in Ketu natives. These unconscious emotions, which form our Shadow Self, contribute to how we interact with the world and other people -- and there's always that capacity to harm or further traumatize others because of our own unchecked, hidden troubles. Mula also perfectly shows how all of the complex, interconnected traumas of everyone else are intertwining and creating more chaos and confusion in society; and the disillusionment to how the oppressive systems of society are just breeding more of these pains & troubles -- which in turn, in Ketu fashion, demonstrates just how trapped everyone is.

Continued in Part 2 of this exploration

#ashwini #aries #magha #leo #mula #sagitarrius #1st house #5th house #9th house #vedic astrology #astro observations #astrology #sidereal astrology #nakshatra series #vedic observations #sidereal observations #Youtube

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lev1hei1chou · 4 months

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Trip To Malaysia

Nanami x reader Genre: Fluff Words: 775 Synopsis: Nanami moves to Malaysia with you PART 1 PART 3 Masterlist

The dust settled in Shibuya, and amidst the chaos, violence and destruction, Nanami Kento stands tall, having survived the disaster in Shibuya. The battle was fierce, the losses immeasurable, but somehow, Nanami emerged as the victor. As the city slowly rebuilds in its own pace, Nanami finds himself needing a break desperately, a opportunity to breathe and heal.

You, his partner, have been a irreplaceable presence in his life. As time passes, Nanami realizes that it's about time for a change – a fresh start far away from the painful memories that that take up a huge portion of his thoughts. After thorough consideration, he proposes a trip to Malaysia, a place neither of you has ever been to before.

The plane lands in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, and the warm air greets both of you as you step out onto the airport. It's quite the stark contrast to the chilly aftermath of the Shibuya Incident, and Nanami seems to welcome the change with a full heart. The decision to come to Malaysia wasn't about escaping from the past. Instead it was about discovering new beginnings.

You both settle into a cozy hotel room in the the city, surrounded by the lively culture and the hustle and bustle of Kuala Lumpur. The unfamiliar sights acts as a soothing balm for Nanami's hurt soul, and he welcomes and appreciates the chance to explore a place untouched by curses and battles.

Days turn into weeks, and you find comfort and happiness in the simplicity of daily life. Something that was not a guarantee in your world, that was filled with curses and uncertainities. Together, you walked through the bustling markets, tasted local delicacies, and learnt about the traditions of Malaysia. Nanami, known for his reserved persona, surprised you with his curiosity about the places and traditions.

One evening, as you stroll through the colorful streets of Kuala Lumpur, Nanami spoke up. "This place is quite different," he muses, scanning the vibrant lanterns hanging overhead. "It's a change I appreciate."

You smiled at him, squeezing his hand gently. "Sometimes, change is what we need the most."

The weeks turned into months, and the routine of daily life in Malaysia brought about a sense of calmness to Nanami's troubled mind. You both befriend your neighbours, then the locals, learn the language, and even learn to cook some traditional foods of the place. The days are filled with laughter, quite different from the battles you left behind in your homeland.

One afternoon, as you both relax on a beautiful beach, Nanami opens up about the past. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was like music to your ears, as he shares the burdens he carried from Tokyo, in detail. You listen, trying your best to give him as much comfort as you could, grateful for the trust he places in you.

"I never thought I'd find peace like this," Nanami admitted, his gaze fixed sun setting in the horizon. "Malaysia has a way of healing all the wounds I never knew I had. And I'm glad I could experience this with you."

You lean onto him, resting your head on his broad shoulder and nod.

As the months pass, Nanami and you create a new life in Malaysia. The memories of Shibuya fade, replaced by the vibrant tapestry of your experiences in this foreign land. Together, you face the challenges and joys of adapting to a new culture, and the shared adventures strengthen the bond between you.

One day, as you both stand on top of the heights of the Petronas Towers, Nanami turns to you with a soft smile. "Thank you," he says, his eyes filled with a newfound sense of contentment. "For being with me, for giving me a reason to live on and appreciate new experiences."

You cup his face softly in your hands, gazing into his eyes with pure love and adoration. "Thank you for letting me be a part of your journey and for allowing yourself to heal."

The skyline of Kuala Lumpur was breathtaking to look at. As the sun sets, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you realize that sometimes, most of stories involving healing begin with a single step into the unknown. All one needs to do is take that step.

In Malaysia, amid the diversity and the warmth of the lovely people, Nanami and you discover a love that goes beyond the numerous hurdles of the past. Together, you build a new chapter, leaving behind the wounds and pain of the past, and welcoming a future filled with hope and endless possibilities.

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 5 months

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It’s one in the morning let’s talk Six of Crows analysis - it feels like it’s been ages since I did any analysis, which is like the entire point of this account so sorry about that but here we go: We should talk more about Adem Bajan you guys okay because first of all he effectively comes to represent the vast majority of everyday people in a clear juxtaposition to both Inej and Van Eck, but he also is in a position of far less choice than I think we give him credit for.

As a reminder, Bajan is a young Suli boy (presumably somewhere around 19 but we have no confirmation of that) working in the Van Eck household teaching Alys music. He is highly implied to be having or to have interest in having as affair with Alys, and was Van Eck’s chosen jailer for Inej at the beginning of Crooked Kingdom. Van Eck claims he made this choice because he thought “a Suli boy would be most conspicuous” when he was attempting to lure Kaz into a trap to save Inej, but it was also an inarguably smart decision in that, as Inej even comments herself, Bajan was easy to talk to, made her feel nostalgic, homesick, and alone, and very nearly succeeded in drawing information out of her without having to restore to torture. If anything, resorting to torture was Van Eck’s major mistake at this point but that’s really a conversation for another time. Bajan is a really interesting character because he doesn’t want to hurt Inej and specifically encourages her to tell him things so Van Eck won’t escalate things further, but when Van Eck does escalate things Bajan is unable - or possibly unwilling - to stop him. For this Inej calls him a monster, and when he claims he did nothing replies “no, you’re the man who stands idly by congratulating himself whilst the monster eats its fill”. She draws a Suli phrase on him that effectively means he’ll be rejected by the community forever and his spirit/soul won’t be accepted, and she describes it as the worst fate or something along those lines sorry I can’t remember exactly. But what’s the most interesting thing is that even though he claims not to believe in any of it Bajan gets noticeably upset by this and says “that’s not fair”. Inej is surprised that he’s this soft, and there’s a very clear juxtaposition between the lives they have lived.

BUT - let’s look at this from Bajan’s perspective. And remember - this is important - Bajan is not described as an employee of Van Eck’s, but an indenture. An indenture. So Bajan is a young boy indentured in a foreign country to a man as high up in the country’s government as you can get and who has clearly been illustrated to the reader as a terrible person on several different levels that I won’t dissect in too much detail right now. He appears to have acclimatised himself to Kerch surroundings and acts with elevation above his status, because that’s what he has to do to survive in the upper echelon of a deeply classist society that actively diminishes and disapproves of his culture. (<<if anyone wants references for that let me know and also I’ve written about it quite a bit before so that’s kicking around on my page somewhere) He refuses to speak to Inej in Suli because “it makes me maudlin” and my question to you is: is he rejecting the language to further attempt to fit in and as a product of internalised prejudice, or because it’s so incredibly painful to be half-connected to a culture not only that he has forced himself to reject but also that he feels he can never safely return to? Probably both. He tells Inej he doesn’t believe in Suli superstition, religion, or culture, and yet is deeply upset when she uses it against him. Is this because he actually does believe, or wants to believe, in the Saints and the Suli interpretation of them but has rejected them for survival and the supposed betterment of himself? Possibly.

Bajan strikes me as very similar to Jesper in the way he presents himself as free, flirty, and casual, but had a considerable weight to almost everything he says and considerable pain hidden closer to the surface than he may have realised. I think there are parallels between him and Inej if we want to see them, but also a very stark difference in the way Kerch and Ketterdam have treated them. Bajan may not be privileged but even as an indenture he has - or at least as far as we know has had - a far safer and kinder experience than Inej has. This could be related to gender since the hyper-sexualisation of Suli culture is mostly centred on women - “the Menagerie always stocked a Suli girl” (I’ve intensely analysis this quote before so I won’t now but ugh there’s so much to say) - but we do know there are young boys captive at the pleasure houses as well although less commonly and it’s also possible that this difference is linked to Bajan’s decision to turn his back on Suli culture in order to appeal more to Kerch society whilst Inej continually embraced her culture and arguably became more religious in response to her experiences.

This is complicated because I’m not entirely sure how I feel about Bajan. I understand and support Inej’s perspective and everything she saw whilst in a far more dangerous position that he was, but is it possible that this was a lonely boy who saw someone he thought was like him and tried to communicate with her the only way he thought was safe? You are completely isolated in a foreign culture and hate yourself for having suppressed your own upbringing in order to survive, but now you meet someone else who yes, is in more danger than you, but who you might be able to help so that she can help you in return. You aren’t safe to speak freely and so you subtly tell her that you are an indenture, hoping she acknowledges that none of this is of your free will and because you know that she was indentured too (and remember from a societal pov there is very little understanding of what indentured girls at the pleasure houses actually go through and although that doesn’t excuse ignoring Inej’s trauma it may explain why he doesn’t fully acknowledge that their positions aren’t equal), you tell her that speaking your own shared language makes you feel maudlin, hoping she realises that you desperately miss your homeland and using your language makes you feel even further from your family than you already are because you can’t share it with them. She doesn’t seem to be taking any of it in, your employer has every intention of hurting her and you don’t know what else to do, so you make a last plea: you ask her about home. You think you’ve already made it clear that speaking about home is painful, so you ask her about it to invite that pain, to share it, so you both understand. But it fails, because she only sees your employer puppeteering you. You openly beg her to tell him the truth so that he won’t hurt her but she refuses to comply, and after all of your efforts and your desperate attempts to connect and beg her to help you both go home, her response is to turn your home against you and banish you from it for eternity. So when you see her the next morning, how could you possibly look her in the eye?

Bajan did not make all of the right choices in his brief time on the page. He didn’t. But maybe he was trying really hard, and he had no other options left.

Anyway I’m not saying this is definitive one way or the other it’s just an interpretation but I find him a very interesting and very sad character and I although I support all of Inej’s actions in these scenes from her point of view I do find myself wondering how she appeared to Bajan and how he felt in the aftermath.

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