#I mean it ends with him metaphorically since GOD WILLING he will break the cycle

[grayintogreen]

You know if you subscribe to the idea that the Hunter’s Bane makes the people who take it infertile so not to spread blood magic through genetics (which I do and don’t depending on what’s more interesting), in LitMoR Lucien’s the last Khar so that cursed family line ENDS WITH HIM.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

The Thief and the Tinker, Part 4: Circles and Cycles

part 3

Part 4

Viren: *smirks and plinks Runaan's coin to Ethari*

Ethari, furious: You throw another Moonshadow at me and I'm gonna lose it.

Circles and Cycles

Angst rating: 8/10

Back to Ethari, because we're not done with him yet. Ethari is soft, but he isn't weak. He won't be a willing pawn for Viren. He loves Runaan to the point of invention, and his devotion is more constant than the moon itself. He'll agree to do what Viren says, and he'll be Very Sad. But his spirit is in no way broken. Viren bribing him with the coins containing his family will only have the opposite effect. It'll give Ethari something to fight for.

We could get Focused Chaos Ethari. We could get Angery Trickster Ethari. We could get Rules, What Rules? Ethari. Let him try to steal the coins, try to break them, try to kill Viren, and be stymied at every turn, until he settles and seems cowed. And then all he does is craft his way out of the problem.

What if we are gifted with Iron Man Elf Ethari, who pretends to build a fake Key for Viren, but meanwhile he's really building a coinbuster with whatever he can get his hands on - primal stones, magically imbued gemstones, stolen artifacts, his own arcanum, his own reputation as the Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove. He'll use almost - almost - anything, to stop Viren and free his family.

Ethari may have to choose between those two things, though. And he's a hero, deep down, just like his family, just like his daughter. If he has to choose, he'll choose to stop Viren and save Xadia. He'll pay the same price as his family has if he must.

He'd let Viren think he was motivated purely by wanting his family back, but Ethari is far too steeped in the illusion and sacrifice for that to be all there is to his motives. It's a so-close-and-yet-so-far thing, how he and Viren almost embody the same ideals. Almost. Ethari would take one look at Viren, who just burnt down his whole Forest, he'd see the biggest threat in Xadia, and he'd say anything to get a chance to stop this juggernaut of destruction from getting his hands on whatever that ultimate power really is, locked behind that missing key. If he has to abandon his people and bawl his eyes out to convince Viren he's in, then he will.

And Viren wouldn't make it easy for him. He knows clever when he sees it. He went through all this trouble to persuade Ethari to work with him. He would need to keep Ethari as off-balance as possible to ensure that he keeps working as he should.

Angsty jewelry, anyone?

Viren giving Ethari his husband in pendant form to remind him what he's working for, when Viren and Ethari both know full well that only dark magic can open the hellcoins. Ethari wearing another pendant of his love, except it's not a metaphor this time. It's literally his love, in a coin around his neck.

Viren would love making Ethari stay close to him of his own free will if he ever hoped to free Runaan. Making people bind themselves to you is a big power flex. Remember that TDP stream future-season teaser note about Bait being in a creepy restraint in a future season?

This card is written on in all-caps, so that really could be "Bait" or "bait," or--knowing this show--both. Viren's been using Runaan as bait for Ethari all along. Putting his coin in a dark magic pendant casing for Ethari to wear would be a great parallel for that. Oh god. Oh man.

Maybe he'll stab the coin's scary casing right through that circle on Ethari's chest, right over his heart, make that Iron Man reference really obvious. Ethari also losing his shirt at some point, for angsty Viren-related reasons? It's more likely than you think. I mean... Ethari is literally involved in both forms of forging at this point. Shirt's gotta come off for uhhhh work reasons. And because he's hot. Because of all the forging. Mmhmm. I mean how else are we finally going to discover what his markings look like this is research I swear

I mentioned that I liked god-tier villains, right? Yeah, this is amazing. I haven't wanted to die and ascend over an idea for quite a while, but Ethari vs Viren in a drawn-out battle of wills would kill me in the best way. Especially since, while it looks like they're essentially fighting for who gets Runaan, they're truly fighting a much larger battle with much higher stakes. They're fighting for the future itself. It's an epic struggle between the Narrative of Strength and the Narrative of Love. And we've seen what happens, over and over, when the Narrative of Strength gets to call the shots.

On a meta note: If Ruthari's story arc isn't a love letter from one trauma survivor to another, and on a broader scope to all survivors who see it, I don't know what is. Sometimes life just chews us up and spits us out and we can't stop it and it breaks us. But sometimes we can reach out and grasp the chance to help each other, even after that, even when it hurts a lot, because we know what it means to be loved, and to love, and to want a safer future for each other and for people we'll never meet. The future is worth standing together for, helping each other back up for, fighting side by side for, even if you can't see how it'll end, or even how to begin. We are stronger together, and sometimes we need to fight for our "together" before we can fight for anything else. And that's worth it, every time.

This is glorious, it's beautiful, it's tragic, it's amazing, it makes me want to dance, it makes me want to scream into the void, it makes me want to slap someone with a semi truck. No, someone specific, don't worry, and he super deserves it.

Because Ethari is going to win. He was always going to win. He's soft, and he's clever, and he hasn't forgotten what love means. It's what he's fighting for. Not power, not control. Love. He doesn't want to dictate Runaan's future or anyone else's. He just wants his husband--and everyone else--to have one at all.

So he's going to win.

What thwarting Viren looks like, I couldn't possibly guess. TDP is no stranger to angst, so there will probably be a high cost involved in outwitting the dark mage. Maybe not everyone can be rescued from the coins. Maybe Ethari will lose his life, or his soul, or his vision, or something else really angsty. Viren could even kill him and resurrect him as a smoky craftsman, or a zombie craftsman, or something equally biddable but horrible. The only thing I'm sure of is that Ethari would never willingly make a working Key of Aaravos Ethari as long as there's a chance Viren could possess it. But I do believe that if he gets the right opportunity while he's busy saving the world from Viren's dark intentions, he'll break his husband's hellcoin open somehow and set him free, even if he has to smile at the devil to do it.

Ethari understands the difference between "you can" and "therefore you should." He might sacrifice his own world to save his husband, but he'd never sacrifice someone else's world. That's one of the Moonshadow cultural limits I've noticed: they accept boundaries when it comes to other people's autonomous rights, especially regarding life and death.

These limits could get pushed. Ethari will be under great duress and emotional strain if he goes through this kind of interaction with Viren. And maybe he will choose some dark things. Everyone else has. But I'm placing all my eggs in the basket labeled "Saved By Love." Either I'm right, or I'll get the best angst omelets in the universe. And I do love omelets. A villain invented them, you know. ;)

Another support for Ethari not making the key for Viren: the real Key exists!

Callum has it right now. The plot doesn't need Ethari's key (yet? ever?), but it does need Ethari to learn what he's made of, to stand up for something, or against something, or both at once. And once he learns what he will and won't do and the universe has rewarded his discovery with the return of his beloved husband then Ethari will be ready to take on whatever else the plot has in mind for him.

Depending on the plan, all of these events could happen in S4, as a setup for even bigger things to follow. Viren's wishes can be thwarted here and the show's overall tension will only continue to rise. It would let Ethari flex yes pls his skills so we know who he is, it would show how driven Viren can be for a long-term goal, it would let Claudia saunter further downwards, it would reveal some human/Moonshadow history, and it would resolve the seasons-long tension regarding Runaan's fate, allowing for the cycle of speculation, feels, angst, and Ruthari fanart to begin again. ;) Viren would need to find another way to pursue his long-term goal. And Callum's Key will get a little more clarity on just how important it is to the fate of the world - which will make everything he does, and everyone he talks to, and anyone who knows what he's carrying, intensely important.

Nyx is gonna steal it isn't she, omg chaos birb

To Viren, Ethari was a main course, meant to be devoured and consumed in his lifelong quest for something that will finally satisfy. But to Ethari, Viren was just empty calories to be passed over in favor of ordering his perennial favorite dish, one more time.

Once Ethari escapes Viren's clutches with as much of his family as he can rescue, Viren may turn back to looking for the real Key, especially if someone's seen it recently. Hunting a kid probably seems easier than hunting a full-grown Moonshadow craftsman who just outsmarted him. okay so maybe Nyx stealing it would be a good thing and save Callum's life

Ethari could go on to help repair the Sunforge, or rebuild the Moonhenge, or work on constructing Moonshadow villages in Katolis if he hasn't been ghosted for abandoning everyone after the forest fire. He might build magical devices for any number of reasons, to help all kinds of characters. Hopefully, wherever he goes, he'll have Runaan with him, in some way, for at least a little while. Cycles be like, and I feel like Runaan will not want to remain still for long, for whatever reason. Does he need revenge, atonement, justice, a new body, to find Rayla, to find Ezran? He'll be back in action as soon as he can, I think.

Okay, but, I'm so soft at the thought of a scene where Runaan and Ethari come before King Ezran. The husbands tried to save their people Runaan's way, the old way, and it only continued to endanger them. Following the cycle, as Moonshadows do, was the wrong move. But the son of the last human Runaan killed reached out with mercy and broke a thousand years of suffering and sorrow and hatred. Ezran did what Runaan couldn't: he saved the Moonshadow elves from total destruction. And that, more than anything else in the world, could soften one very broody assassin's heart toward humans again.

What would Runaan do, if his heart truly changed toward humans? What would he say to Ezran? I could see him struggling for a long moment before dropping to one knee to pledge his heart as he once had to do before the Dragon Throne. He doesn't know any other way but to serve. Ezran, reading the whole room and everyone's feelings before he tells Runaan that No, we don't do that here. That he's free, and free means free. No chains, no oaths. Just trust and friendship. He should get to make his own decisions for a change, even though that can be hard and scary sometimes. Runaan being genuinely scared, because that's too much freedom. But he's not alone. He has Ethari, and Ezran, and Rayla, and Callum, and their people, and their allies. And no matter what else happens, the people of Katolis - elven and human - will find a way forward. Together.

part 5

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

Hi hi! I'm glad you're well, except for the commute (oof). If you haven't done this already, I'd love to hear thoughts from you about Brenner. First of all, how does someone like him live with doing the sort of things he's done? Also, with him being "papa" to El in her early life, how well would you say stories of why abusive parents abuse, and how they understand what they're doing, fit to understanding Brenner's behavior and mind? (I hope that all makes sense?) Thanks! and have a good one! ^_^

Ok, you’ve been waiting for this one for quite some time. I apologize. It’s been hard to stay motivated between all the stress of the past year and the lack of fresh Stranger Things content. You’ve put forth a very thought-provoking question, as it really demands that I get into the question of human behavior and why anyone does anything, let alone something that many would see as horrible.

Too often, people like to write certain people off as “just plain evil.” This is a problematic argument, however, as it avoids any exploration as to why something might have happened. If we don’t understand the root of a given behavior, we leave ourselves open to it happening again. Brenner isn’t evil, but only because “evil” is a social construct that isn’t naturally occurring. Brenner himself would certainly give all sorts of justifications for his actions, and that is the real issue here. A stereotypically “evil” person would know he is doing wrong, and either not care or enjoy it.

Brenner doesn’t see anything wrong with what he’s done. He may know it’s illegal, even unethical, but he sees himself as doing something great. Those who are hurt along the way are simply the cost of doing business, for lack of a better term. He has little, if any, remorse for his actions. Everything is justifiable to him if it works towards his goals. What are his goals? First, to achieve greatness. Second, to have his greatness known. The closest he gets to caring for something other than himself is his desire to defeat the Russians, but that may well be driven by his desire for greatness rather than a desire to help his country. He’s not out to hurt anyone, but he cares little if that’s what it takes.

What this shows is a disregard for the rights of others, along with the previously mentioned lack of remorse. This is where an evil argument can be made, since it creates a situation where he quite simply seeing others as lesser than himself. This is what leads to people treating others as subhuman and expendable. Most people, even when put into a situation that requires decisions that can result in others being seriously hurt or killed, will struggle with it. It’s the sort of thing that would haunt the average person, even if they tried to rationalize it away, at least until they became desensitized to it.

We get no sense that Brenner himself was simply broken down until this emotionally detached person was all that was left. There’s no indication that he came into his research as someone with ethical standards, but got disillusioned over time. Everything we see in Stranger Things, as well as the supplemental materials, tells us that this is basically Brenner’s modus operandi. Any display of emotion from him is simply part of a greater strategy of manipulation. He tricks his subjects into thinking he cares for them, and, especially with the children, grooms them to see him as a father figure whom they will wish to please.

Using Brenner as an exploration of abusive parents is a bit dicey, as his parental status is essentially fake. God willing, he has no actual children. Still, it can work as a sort of metaphor, I suppose. An abusive parent would behave similarly, unrealistic elements of the series aside, in that I’d wager that abusive parents rarely see themselves as abusive. I don’t have any research handy for this, but, anecdotally, people take on traits of their parents (and other significant people in their lives growing up). The cycle of abuse is not a conscious choice that people make, and this is what makes it difficult to break. Billy was abusive because Neil was abusive. Billy started to see Neil’s methods as the only way to 1) be safe and 2) get what you want. Neil’s abuse of Billy likely decreased in frequency and severity as Billy took on traits that Neil appreciated. This reinforced the behavior in Billy, turning him into a carbon copy of the man he hated. Billy also likely harbored a great hatred of himself, assuming he had moments where he was able to clearly see the person had become. Abusive parents, particularly those who had been abused, would likely have a similar sense of shame once the defense mechanisms stop protecting them from their own behavior.

I’m not sure Brenner would feel ashamed of himself, though. Even if someone, somehow stripped away his delusions of grandeur, arrogance, and claims of the ends justifying the means, there’s no reason to believe that Brenner would have a Heel Realization. He’s not a Well-Intentioned Extremist or He Who Fights Monsters who simply needs to be put down. The man is a sociopath. He doesn’t value others enough to have any genuine emotional attachment with them. If you watch his scenes with El, you can actually see that any reactions he has are due to the results of his experiments with her. His emotional attachments are centered on his work. These people are subjects to him, merely nameless numbers. Their names only exist to allow him to put up a paternal front, so they feel compelled to obey and desire to please him.

I think a better look at abusive parents in Stranger Things would be with Neil or Lonnie. They’re both horrible people, but at least tried to be parents in their own twisted way. If we use the story of Lonnie taking Jonathan hunting to illustrate parenting, we can sort of see the differences. A good dad would see his son is upset and end the hunting trip. An abusive dad, like Lonnie, would make his kid do it anyway because he thought it’d toughen his son up and because he cared more about what other people thought than how his son felt. Brenner tried to make El kill a rabbit just to see if she could, so she can be a weapon.

Lonnie was a selfish abusive asshole, but Brenner was only ever in it for himself. El would have been killed or locked away in an asylum if her powers never developed. It takes a lot to come across as worse than Lonnie, but, hey, there’s always a bigger fish.

[scullydubois]

Only the Light: Ch. 10

10/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: s2, ep 12, Aubrey (post-ep) | T (for now?) | 4.5k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic

Missy accompanies Scully to a doctor's appointment. Afterward, Missy confronts Scully about her feelings for Mulder, and Scully slips-up on the phone.

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

She digs through her suitcase, searching for the business card she tucked in the pocket with her underwear. A sharp edge penetrates her skin, stings immediately. Her fingers close around the paper card and pull it out. A thin red cut traces the length of her middle finger, blood begging to seep out. She ignores it and grabs the phone off her nightstand, plugging in the number for the Aubrey Motel. 

As she’s dialing, she realizes that it’s already past lunchtime in DC, and even though Missouri is an hour behind, there’s no way Mulder is in his room. She lets it ring anyway, then asks the man who answers for room 12. He patches her through, and sure enough, the line rings until it gives up. 

Impressed by her own newfound patience, Scully hangs up and dials Mulder’s cell instead. She’s not exactly sure why she didn’t just do this in the first place; maybe she likes the idea of Mulder being stationary without her, stuck in his room like a lost little boy with no one to guide him. Her heart sinks when she thinks about Mulder gallivanting around Aubrey, solving the case like there’s nothing to it, like he could have been doing it by himself all this time. She wants him to need her. Naturally, she is ashamed of this desire.

She hits the call button and waits while an invisible force shoots across states and connects her to her partner. She does not have to wait long; he answers after the first ring.

“Hello?” He sounds the same as always. Simultaneously there and drifting, one body split between two minds. 

“Mulder, it’s me.” 

“Hey Scully.” There is a lightness in his voice now, like a balloon cut free of its tether. He is smiling, she thinks...She hopes.

“I just wanted to let you know I made it home safely…” She trails off, not wanting to stop talking to him, but finding herself with nothing else to say. 

“I’m glad, Scully.” He always addresses her by name more when they are apart. This is a comfort to both of them. “How’s Melissa?”

Scully looks through the doorway, confirming that her sister is nowhere near to cause any antics. “She’s alright.” She deals in half-truths. “We’re going to the doctor later to get an x-ray, but I think it’s just a sprain.” 

“Well, keep me updated. I found a lead on the case--Harry Cokely, the suspect of one of the 1945 murders. I’m on my way to see him. He’s been out of jail since ‘93.”

Scully gulps. “Are you alone?”

“Uh-huh.” He senses her tension through the line. “But I’ll be fine, Scully, he’s an old geezer now. What kind of agent am I if I can’t defend myself against an eighty year old?”

“You could have taken BJ with you.”

“And put a pregnant woman in the line of fire? I’ll be fine, Scully. They wouldn’t have let him out if he were still a danger.”

“Okay, Mulder.” This is not what she means, but it has already been a long day, and there is too much left of it to get into an argument with him. 

“I might be able to come back tomorrow,” she blurts out, as if saying it will make it more true. “...I’d like to come back tomorrow.”

“Take all the time you need, Scully. I’ve got this.”

She knows he is trying to be accommodating-- though he so rarely is--but his casual manner confirms her worst fears about her own superfluity. “I want to work, Mulder, you know that.”

“I’m not gonna stop you.” Then, his voice uneven, suspecting but not willing to confront--”Just take care of Melissa--and yourself--okay?”

She nods into the phone. “I will.”  She is staring at the barrel of Mulder’s metaphorical gun, knowing he won’t shoot, almost wishing he would. Bleeding out feels like the simple solution. “Bye, Mulder.”

She is leaving so soon, he thinks, grateful to have had her voice accompanying him on the trip. “Bye, Scully. Call the motel tonight, will you?”

“Alright.” She kills the line, each extra second another thorn in her side, a lie allowed to linger. Sin multiplying.

She stands there, clasping the phone in her hand and feeling like a stranger to herself. Her sister thought she should tell him before she flew a thousand miles and let an hour fall between them, and she disobeyed. What Melissa didn’t understand was that vulnerability is not a word in her and Mulder’s shared language. There’s no way to spell out the situation, even if she had wanted to. And she didn’t want to at the time. Or rather, she had wanted to so badly that it was dangerous, that she knew she risked more pain by telling than by withholding. She would have had to invent new words in their language, expand its bounds, and who knows what would come next. Give someone the language to express their feelings, and they will say them. And what then?

She is scared of her own feelings--and his too--because she knows that admitting means losing, somewhere down the road, and she doesn’t ever want to be without him. If she had never met him, she would never have to live without him. This is the gun that is always pressed to her head. She and Mulder are both holding the trigger.

She doesn’t know if he has such a gun against his temple, thinks that maybe he doesn’t, hopes so at least. There have been others for him, she knows this. Phoebe and...well, Phoebe’s the only one she’s met, and she wasn’t that impressive. But he’s a good-looking guy, and a good guy at that, and the whispers of a dark-haired woman who broke his heart float up and down the hallways of the Hoover building. He doesn’t tell, and Scully won’t ask because she worries that the mystery woman is the gun he holds against his own head.

She sets the phone back in its receiver, tired of thinking about guns and triggers and brains blown out. For now, she is in one piece--she’s pretty sure--and she would like to stay that way for as long as her soul will let her.

Her sister calls from down the hallway. “Dana, are you ready?”

Scully managed to book a last-minute appointment with her OB-GYN, thanks to Missy’s insistence that it was an emergency. Personally, she wouldn’t use such a strong word--I mean, it’s not like she’s hemorrhaging or anything. It’s the absence of blood that’s the problem. But there are tests, scans, and probing of the like that can be done, and once Scully admitted this her sister would not drop the issue. Off to every woman’s favorite place they go. 

--------

The waiting room is a stepping stone, a purgatory, a beginning and an ending rolled into one. She has been here before, many times. In the past, it felt like an inconvenience, not a threat.

She makes an appointment every year, does everything exactly as she is supposed to do in between, and still she is here and scared. She is careful as careful comes, as prepared as one petite woman alone in the world can be. She can dislocate a jaw, strike a man’s legs out from under him, break a nose. And yet, and yet, and yet...Who first uttered “fairness,” thought it existed on this Earth?

Even so, the consolation of knowing lingers in the distance. Like the minutes between calling 911 and the ambulance arriving. Help is on the way. The nightmare will end, or it will settle in. Lucky or unlucky. Win or lose.

Scully is not sure what she wants to hear. Three tests is quite definitive; pregnancy is unlikely. And what else is there? That her cycle has been thrown off by stress, that it’ll come back on its own time, don’t worry about it? That’s no comfort. She doesn’t want something to be wrong with her, but she knows something’s not right, and what’s worse than knowing that you don’t know? She and Mulder have lived in that hell for years. She can handle mysteries of the outside world, but what a cruel trick for her own body to blockade her. 

Missy nudges her from the adjacent vinyl seat, elbow meeting bicep. “What are you thinking about?”

“How my mind doesn’t know what’s going on with my own body,” Scully replies dryly. “I mean, I know I have a tendency to close myself off, but I’ve cloistered myself so much I no longer know what I am.”

Melissa frowns. “Don’t you mean who? Who you are?”

“No.” Scully shakes her head, looks at her lap. In her darkest thoughts and most blistering nightmares, she is not human anymore. They desecrate her, ravage her body, and leave a memento in her skin, a touch of them. It’s so vivid it might be a memory. Mulder wants an alien; he may have one. That would be ironic, huh? 

Can you learn to believe in yourself when you become something you never thought existed?

Can you still believe in God?

Every job she has dreamed of doing involves solving. Knowing enough to know what you don’t know, then figuring that out. Taking the pencil lines, shading them in. Seeking and finding and never wondering why. She cannot keep this up. There has got to be a meaning.

It is not enough, anymore, to simply wonder for the sake of wondering. To cast light over the darkness because you are tired of the darkness. Why? Is she doing it for Mulder, for the traumatized twelve-year boy locked inside him? Is she doing it for herself, fending off the fallibility, reconciling her belief with proof so that she can get off her own back? Or is she doing it because she was told to, because she is still the daddy’s girl who wants to please? 

Twenty-nine years, and she is still coming to terms with herself. We are all our own x-file. We are all taking ourselves apart and piecing ourselves back together and looking for meaning and losing our minds. 

Missy reaches over the wooden arm of the seat and pats Scully’s hand. Scully is reminded that she hasn’t yet ruled out the possibility that her sister is a mind-reader.

“Dana?” a nurse calls. Her first name feels so secondary that Scully feels certain they’re calling someone else.

“Right here!” Missy responds, getting up and pulling her sister along with her. Scully tugs her sister’s sleeve like a child might, wonders if Missy has ever considered motherhood. 

Once in the corridor, they separate. The nurse takes Scully to get her vitals checked, while Melissa seeks out waiting room D, where the nurse’s flat voice--already tired from hours on the job--told her to wait.

It is not long before her sister joins her there.

“How was it?” Missy asks before Dana even manages to sit down.

Scully shrugs. She turns her left hand to show the pink bandaid on her index finger. “My iron levels are above average.”

“That’s not serious, right?”

“No, it’s usually a good thing.”

They sit quietly, listening to the staticky alt rock song coming through the speakers. They are alone in this particular area, but nurses and doctors bustle just around the corner from them.

Scully regards her sister with a latent curiosity. “Have you ever thought about having children?”

Missy turns to her, laughs. “What?”

Scully is somewhat perturbed by her sister’s nonchalant reaction. “Do you want to be a mother?” she reiterates. “It’s not something we’ve talked about since we were kids, so I was wondering.”

“If my life unfolds that way, then surely I think I’d enjoy it. But I’m not prioritizing it.”

“Ahh.” Her sister has always had a particular reverence for destiny. 

“And besides,” Missy continues, “it could be hard, you know, with Trinity and all.”

It takes Scully a moment to realize what she means. “Oh.” That’s something she’s never had to worry about herself. She runs her finger along the grooves of her bandaid, feels her heart clench up for her sister. “There’s always adoption.”

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s a long, drawn-out process from what I’ve heard.”

“Mmm.” Scully nods, wondering how two women could have two such conflicting problems. 

Before she can voice the irony of this, another nurse pops out from around the corner, peers at a clipboard. “Dana Scully?” Her voice is bright and chipper.

“That’s me,” Scully says, raising a hand to show the bandaid, her battle scar.

“I’ll show you to your room.”

Missy pats Dana’s shoulder as she stands up. “I’ll stay here. Come get me if you need me.”

“Okay,” Scully breathes, grateful to be given her space yet to know support is right around the corner.

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

For someone that went to medical school--and enjoyed it, for that matter--Scully always feels much too out of place in a gynecology office. It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before. In textbook diagrams, in wall art, in her own flesh. Yet the 3D model of the reproductive system, the color-coded illustration of the uterus, and the various pamphlets on everything from STDs to birth control to what to expect postnatal smother her, serving as a fresh reminder that Catholicism’s tendency to repress haunts her still. She’s more bothered by her involuntary discomfort than what she sees. 

Dr. Zapolsky enters, easing some of Scully’s nerves immediately. Tall and dark-skinned, she has been practicing medicine for 20 years, and Scully has been seeing her since she moved to Washington. She can be intimidating if you don’t know her, but she’s honest and extremely competent, two things Scully requires of her doctors. And herself.

“Hello, Dana.” Scully sits up straighter as the woman’s voice hits her eardrums. She’s admired Dr. Zapolsky for years, seeing her as an exemplary figure, someone that might have been a mentor to her had she put her medical degree to work. “What can I do for you today?”

There are few things Scully hates as much as being the patient. If she’s the patient, that means she has failed at being her own doctor. That means she didn’t know--and worse--didn’t think she could figure it out on her own.

She wrings her hands. “My cycle is over a week late, which is very concerning considering that it’s always been timely. I’ve been having migraines and nausea and nightmares, and I just know something is wrong.”

Dr. Zapolsky drops Scully’s file on the counter. “Well, the pregnancy portion of your urine test came back negative.”

“I took three drugstore pregnancy tests too, and they were all negative. That’s why I’m here.”

“Have you had any notable lifestyle changes over the past few months?” Dr. Zapolsky asks. “Anything out of the ordinary? Stress is a major contributor to fluctuations in the menstrual cycle, as I’m sure you know.”

Scully nods, gathers herself. Dr. Zapolsky is oblivious to the rabbithole she has just fallen into. “I was, um, abducted, about eight weeks ago, and I have no memory of it.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Dana.” Dr. Zapolsky wheels her stool beside the medical chair. “We have a bit of catching up to do.”

“Yes,” Scully looks at her feet. They dangle a few inches above the tile like a child’s. Nothing new. She glances back at her doctor. “There isn’t much to say. I don’t know anything about what happened.”

“Well, tell me what you do know.” Then, seeing the apprehension on Scully’s face--”I’m not trying to play therapist, I just want to understand.”

Scully blinks slowly to keep from crying. It goes like this, it always does: she can manage the trauma until she has to say it out loud. This is a story no one wants to be in, but everyone wants to hear.

“I was taken by a man involved in a case that I worked on. Well, that my partner worked on, actually. I got involved--and long and complicated story short--the man broke into my apartment, bound my wrists and ankles, and stuffed me in his trunk. That’s the part I do remember. After the trunk, it’s all a blur really.”

The doctor furrows her brow. “How were you found?”

“I wasn’t found, I was returned. To the hospital. None of the staff had any idea how I got there, and I was bathed and cleaned by my abductors so no trace evidence was collected.”

“So no rape kit was done, then?”

Scully shakes her head.

The doctor uncrosses her legs, recrosses them with the opposite leg on top. “How long were you missing?”

“About a month...My mother bought me a gravestone, she didn’t think I would be found.” This is a detail she has never spoken out loud. Saying it feels like letting air out of an over-inflated balloon. 

“I’m so sorry, Dana.” Dr. Zapolsky lifts a hand, then puts it back in her lap. “May I hug you?” Scully nods and lets herself be embraced, though she does not feel it necessary. “That sounds like a horrific ordeal.”

Scully shrugs as best she can with Dr. Zapolsky’s arms wrapped around her. “It comes with the job.” Always modest about her suffering, she is. 

Dr. Zapolsky speaks into Scully’s ear. “No, I don’t think it does.” 

The doctor lets go. Scully doesn’t say anything. She curls the fingers of her left hand around her right wrist and squeezes hard enough to be certain that it’ll leave a mark.

Dr. Zapolsky slides her stool back over to the counter, flips through Scully’s file.

“I’d say the best course of action is to start with a blood test. I’ll check a few hormone levels---follicle-stimulating, anti-mullerian, luteinizing. That’ll give some insight into your pituitary gland function and your egg reserve.”

Scully nods along. Those hormones are complicated names she barely remembers, but she trusts it’s the right course of action.

“With that, we can determine whether this is a symptom of a larger problem, or if it’s simply a result of the stress you’ve been under. It should only take a couple days to get the results back.”

Scully nods, bites her lip. More waiting.

“Have you been seeing a therapist by any chance?” Dr. Zapolsky asks.

Scully shakes her head. Dr. Zapolsky should know her better than that. 

“Well, I highly recommend it even to those who have not gone through any trauma. And for a survivor, it can truly be life-changing.”

A survivor. What is she, a war hero? That word is fitting for her father, who lived on the sea and sought eternal rest there. Not her.

“Thank you, but I’m okay.” Scully cannot meet her doctor’s glance.

“If you need any referrals, I can give you some names.” Dr. Zapolsky is just trying to help, Scully knows this, but this is not the help she came here for. 

“The FBI has an on-site psychologist,” she says to close the subject.

“Oh, what a wonderful resource.”

“Most definitely.” Scully smiles weakly and ducks her head, ready to get out of here.

-------

There are many things she is afraid of, but physical pain is not one of them. The unknown, slow but certain death--these are the things that spook Dana Scully. When you’ve spent years being told that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, you are prepared to suffer for honor. 

This is simply the prick of a needle, a relinquishing. Doctors used to prescribe it as the cure for any ailment, believing it to vanquish toxins from the body. Med school would have been a lot simpler if that were true.

She watches the blood flow out of her veins and into the vial. Some people can’t look; she can’t look away. Missy is seated in the chair next to her, chin resting in her palm after her offer to hold Scully’s hand was rejected. She traces the path of her sister’s blue eyes as they slide from her arm to the vial in the nurse’s hand. Dana has never been afraid to look--that’s the problem.

In an instant, it is done. The nurse smooths a bandage over Scully’s skin, tells her they will call with the results in a few days. And then it is two sisters, going, going, gone.

----------

They have a pleasant ride home, a soft and sisterly evening in. The prospect of Dana going back to Aubrey in the morning never even comes up, much to Melissa’s relief. Perhaps the illusion of normalcy her sister pedals in her head has finally given way to their unreal reality. They don’t waste a moment on the uncertainty circling them, instead curling up on the couch with popcorn and gummy bears for another Golden Girls marathon.

“Which one do you think Mulder is?” Missy asks during a slow moment in the episode.

“Huh?” Scully laughs. “Which Golden Girl, you mean?”

“Uh-huh.” Missy pops a red gummy in her mouth. “Or is he too interesting to be pinned down?” she teases, mimicking the swoony non-answer he gave about Scully some weeks ago.

“I don’t know honestly,” she says, pushing a blanket out of her lap. “I’m not sure that I know him well enough to decide.”

“You’re kidding.” Missy glares at her. Clearly her sister has not dropped the illusion after all.

“No, I’m not,” Scully intones, getting up to refill the gummy bear bowl. “And that reminds me, he wanted me to call.” She glances at the clock. It’s half past 8 there, so surely Mulder is back in his motel room. 

Missy isn’t letting her off the hook that easily. She follows her sister into the kitchen. “Dana, I guarantee that you know him better than anyone else in the world. If they conducted a test on every single living human being’s knowledge of Fox Mulder, you would get the highest score.”

“Knowledge isn’t the same as understanding,” Scully murmurs, dumping the remaining gummy bears into the bowl. 

“I’ll give you that, but you know what? You do understand him, you’re just too afraid to confront it.”

Scully wants to recoil, but freezes in place instead. It’s just as dramatic but gives less away. After a breath, she crumples the plastic bag into a ball and dunks it swiftly into the wastebasket.

She speaks rigidly, each word cutting through the air. “If I understood him, there would be no fear.” 

Missy feels this in her chest--the aching, the truth in her sister’s voice. Dana is as close to crying as she ever gets. Missy strides over, clasps her sister’s hands in hers. “You don’t have to be scared.” She pulls her little sister in, squeezes her heart to Dana’s own. “He loves you. And I’m not talking about in a romantic way--I don’t know, maybe--but just in general. He loves you, and he would never hurt you.”

Scully’s eyes are glassy with tears now, but Melissa cannot see this in the midst of their hug. “Haven’t you ever been hurt by someone who loves you?” She says into Missy’s ear. “We never mean it, but it happens. It happens all the time.”

“And then you apologize, and you go on. Being hurt once doesn’t mean being hurt forever.”

“It can.” Scully pulls away, wipes her cheeks before her sister can overanalyze. 

“It won’t, not with Mulder. I know enough about him to know that.” She brushes her sister’s hair out of her face. “If anyone was going to cut off the relationship, it would be you.”

“Wha--” Scully gives up the protest. She is partial to burning bridges that are prone to collapse, a last-ditch attempt at dignity. Yet Mulder doesn’t strike her as a bridge that would burn even if she set it aflame. Maybe that’s worse though, it prolongs the struggle.

“Hurting him would be worse than getting hurt,” Scully mutters. 

“Loving him would be better than not loving him,” Melissa responds.

“The correct phrasing of that argument is ‘loving him would be better than being loved,’ if you wanted to copy my logic.” Scully gets curt and analytical when she’s annoyed. 

“Hmm, well, consider that too.”

Their eyes meet and Scully can tell that neither one of them is going to win. “I’ve got to call him before it gets too late.” They both know who he is. She turns on her heels and heads for her room. 

--------

He didn’t pick up the first time she called, which scared her more than she’s willing to admit. She sat cross-legged on her bed until the phone rang again about twenty minutes later, until she heard his voice on the other line.

“Hey Scully, sorry, I was out wrapping up the case.”

“Wrapping up?” She doesn’t even bother to say hello. “It’s over?”

“Open and shut...or, err, something like that.”

“What happened?” Her voice strains for no reason. She clears her throat.

“I’ll catch you up some other time,” he says breezily. “How’s Melissa doing?”

For a moment, Scully forgets her lie and tries to figure out why he’s asking about her sister and not her. Then--”Oh! She’s okay, yeah, it was a sprain like we suspected. Nothing broken on the x-ray. She can just about walk normally now, I think she’ll be off crutches by tomorrow.” Embellish, embellish, embellish. Missy had taught her to lie in the 6th grade, and she finally had some use for that knowledge.

“That’s great! I’m flying back tomorrow morning, I can be at the office by 10 if you wanna meet me there.” 

“Will you tell me about the case? And BJ? How is she?”

“I’ll...I’ll tell you that tomorrow, Scully.” There’s a bit of gravel in his voice, which Scully has noticed comes out when he’s tired or holding back. 

“Fine. Should I assume that by 10, you mean 10:30?”

“Well, you know how the line at the Dulles Chick-fil-A gets,” he wisecracks.

Something goes wrong between her brain and her tongue as she goes to wrap up the conversation. “Alright, 10:30. Love you, bye.”

Mulder makes a noise like a stifled laugh or a cough that couldn’t be held in. “What was that, Scully?”

Her face is flushed, and she’s thankful he can’t see it. “Sorry, I’ve been talking to Missy on the phone a lot lately. Habit.” The voice flowing out of her sounds calm and collected, like that was just an honest mistake. In a way it was...a much too honest one that has made her anything but calm.

“Oh, is that who you say that to?” he teases. 

She laughs. Surely he couldn’t think there’s anyone else, could he? 

“Just Missy, and maybe my mom.” She says it like a promise. He hears it like a prayer. Unusual, for both of them.

“Bye, Mulder,” she says, ushering any sentimentality away. 

“Bye, Scully. Hate you. Oh, sorry--that’s what I say to my dad on the phone.”

Scully giggles into the phone. She’s still giggling as she sets the phone back on the hook.

Even after the call flat-lines, Mulder holds the phone against his ear like it’s a seashell echoing Scully’s giggle back to him.

[drsilverfish]

DrSilverfish S14 Meta Masterpost

Well, what a wild ride S14 has been. An extremely rich season for meta, and one of the best seasons of the show, ever (in my view, YMMV). It’s been a blast sharing it with all of you, week by week, on the hoof. Thanks for all the discussion, shared sleuthing and musing, gifs, art, fic, meta and more. 

And thanks also to all the readers of, and commenters on, this blog. Reading the tags and replies on Tumblr is still one of the best things. 

High points? The writers’ room’s use of mythology (Greek, Biblical, folktale) this season has been rich and satisfying, but in particular their borrowing of Jung’s psychological drama of the encounter between the Self and the Shadow-self, and his interpretation of alchemical writing as representative of the journey of the psyche towards self-integration (for the alchemists, the journey of the soul to God) has been really beautifully crafted. 

Also, all the call-backs to previous seasons and episodes of the show, as part of Dabb’s Ouroboros narrative, used to shed light both on the past and the present; even down to matching the call backs numerologically for more snake-swallowing-its-own-tail symmetry. 

Stand out episode for me was 14x14 Ouroboros. Steve Yockey is a kick-ass writer and a master of subtext. Noah Ophis the Queer Gorgon was not only a fabulous queer villain but the call-back to Nick the Siren and 4x14 Sex and Violence really reflected on and demonstrated the show’s evolution, as we near the end of the spiral (it’s ages since any female characters have been called a “bitch” or a “whore” for one thing - phew).

Also a shout-out to Meredith Glynn’s 14x08 Byzantium for its lovely re-encounter re Castiel’s relationship to Heaven, his heart-crushing (and uber fairy-tale romantic) deal with The Shadow, as well as for revisiting the awesome Lily Sunder and adding Anubis to the SPN God-machine! 

And to Davy Perez 14x11 Damaged Goods for the most subtextually obvious but also tragically heart-breaking, reference to the Ma’lak box as the closet, thanks to Dean showering sparks all over Donna’s 1970s cowboy porn poster collection whilst building it. 

Andrew Dabb and Meredith Glynn’s 14x13 Lebanon was excellent too; lovely script, outstanding performances from the original Winchester family, a beautiful little side-meditation on who Castiel would have been, if he hadn’t raised Dean from perdition, and some more alchemical symbolism via the “pearl of great price” (AKA the Philosopher’s Stone). 

Meghan Fitzmartin and Yockey’s 14x15 Peace of Mind, was also stand-out, for its biting satire both of MAGA and Heaven, its hilarious whammied Sam (truly one of Jared’s great performances, up there with his Lucifer in The End) and its lashings of queer subtext (from Dean’s fascination with, and anxiety about,  the “snake”, to Castiel’s mirrored heavy improv involvement with Sunny’s dick-worshiping erotic epistles). 

Finally, Dabb and Sgriccia delivered a gorgeously shot, and epic, finale in 14x20 Moriah, the culmination of Dean’s long and painful encounter with the internalised Ghost of John Winchester in his psyche, as he faced, Ouroboros style, a yellow-eyed “monster” who had (apparently) killed Mary Winchester (again) and THE Father, ordering him to continue his own father’s revenge cycle. Chuck Shurley, avatar of God, ultimate dead-beat Dad and author of the SPN multi-verse, is set up to be the meta villain for the final season, as his characters struggle for true free will. 

Here’s hoping MIRROR UNIVERSE and all those zombies busting out of their graves are indeed a giant neon metaphor for the culminating revenge of SPN’s eternal queer subtext.    

Low-point of the season; re-fridging Mary Winchester as part of the Ouroboros narrative, even though Glynn and Berens handled her “death” episodes (14x17 and 14x18) beautifully. Re-staging the drama of Azazel, fathers and sons, as part of the story spiral was, of course, irresistable, and profound for our male hero characters; I get it. But, as I am still convinced this is a fake-out, Mary is not really dead, and we will see her again (see my meta from 14x17 onwards) I’m willing to wait before I write my final meta on the show’s relationship to the feminine principle (spoiler alert, a load of suckage along the way, with the possiblity for a, somewhat contingent, writers’ room redemption arc!). I am hoping both Amara, as the feminine God-principle, and Mary (they are already fundamentally linked) will return in the culmination of the narrative. Symbolically, even given this is, indelibly, a narrative about men and the bonds between them, that return of/ integration with the feminine would be the alchemical and Jungian culmination of the journey, and I’m hoping that’s what Dabb is going deliver; via Jack (Hermes/ Mercury) as the mediating principle.  

As I’m sure you all are, I’m in equal measure gutted and excited that S15 is to be the final turn of the spiral. 

Look forward to sharing all the highs and the lows, as TFW go up against Chuck Almighty himself, with Death, The Empty and metaphysical key Jack Kline Novak Winchester in the mix.  

All my meta of the season (with thanks to many of you for enlightening and fun discussion) under the cut this time, because there’s a LOT!:

1) Stranger in a Strange Land (14x01)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/178991484844/stranger-in-a-strange-land-14x01

2) Queer Gods and Monsters (14x02) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179226151009/queer-gods-and-monsters-14x02

3) Dramatic Irony and Castiel in 14x02

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179277272094/dramatic-irony-and-castiel-in-14x02-gods-and

4) Jack and Killing Dean in 14x02 (parallels with Dean and Killing Jack in 13x02 The Rising Son)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179430025509/spookyboysam-and-that-means-that-dean-dies-too

5) 14x03 The Scar - Dean Confronts Dark!Kaia (Dopplegangers, Mirrors and John Winchester’s Ghost)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179463975289/shirtlesssammy-14x03the-scar-meta-writers 

6) Batman vs Superman: Connection and Conflict in Mint Condition (14x04) (Plus more John Winchester’s Ghost)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179699654684/batman-vs-superman-connection-and-conflict-in

and some added discussion and further meta with @dimples-of-discontent

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179735406854/batman-vs-superman-connection-and-conflict-in

7) Nightmare Logic (14x05) The Winchester Family Crypt

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179938583519/nightmare-logic-14x05-the-winchester-family

8) Uhmmn... 14x05′s Text Reference Is...? (Nightmare Logic) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179940786549/uhm-14x05s-text-reference-is 

and some added discussion and further meta (on Dean and the bi-dent) with @paperwhitenarcissus

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179975186264/uhm-14x05s-text-reference-is 

9) 14x05 Nightmare Logic and 13x14 Good Intentions - Dean’s Wardrobe Parallels -  a discussion with @postmodernmulticoloredcloak

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179943183099/postmodernmulticoloredcloak-do-you-think-its

10) Inside Dean’s Head - 14x03 The Scar and 14x05 Nightmare Logic

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179944031049/inside-deans-head 

11) 14x06 Optimism - Cock Meta (end comment on a multi-authored discussion)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/180184985249/14x06-cock-a-doodle-doo

12) 14x06 Optimism - a discussion with @postmodernmulticoloredcloak

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/180201135789/postmodernmulticoloredcloak-drsilverfish

13) 14x08 Byzantium (Castiel’s Relationship with Heaven)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/180903052874/byzantium-14x08

14) The Shadow 14x08 (first in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/180906003584/the-shadow-14x08

15) 14x09 The Spear (wounds, penetrations, scars: Destiel)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/181057197034/guysjust-hold-hands-already-protective

16) 14x09 The Spear (Jungian Decoder Ring Edition) (second in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/181122764984/14x09-the-spear-jungian-decoder-ring-edition

17) 14x09 The Spear: Ode to Joy

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/181170752319/14x09-the-spear-ode-to-joy

18) The Dean/ Cas Spiral Narrative - S13 and 14 Edition (so far)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/181231154654/the-dean-cas-spiral-narrative-s13-and-14-edition

19) Pamela Barnes in Nihilism (14x10)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182118505974/pamela-barnes-in-nihilism

20) AU!Michael and the Closet (14x10)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182120562849/aumichael-and-the-closet

21) Rocky’s Bar: A Closer Look in Dean’s Mind (14x10) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182142619479/rockys-bar-a-closer-look-in-deans-mind-14x10

22) Are You There, God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester (S11 Parallels - Jungian meta adjacent)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182150404304/are-you-there-god-its-me-dean-winchester

23) Pamela, The Guardian (this is actually @shirtlesssammy ‘s great meta, to which I added something on Pamela as Dean’s psychopomp and anima - Jungian meta adjacent) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182196788399/pamela-the-guardian-in-14x10

24) What the Light and Shadow Tells Us (some meta on the S14 promo poster and S13 and 14′s use of light and shadow - Jungian meta adjacent)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182257314199/what-the-light-and-shadow-tells-us

25) A Fridge-Locker, An Enochian Puzzle-Box, and the Closet (14x11 Damaged Goods) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182303909819/a-fridge-locker-an-enochian-puzzle-box-a-malak 

with some additional discussion with @magnificent-winged-beast and @verobatto-angelxhunter on subtext, canon and the show’s own closet:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182375754379/a-fridge-locker-an-enochian-puzzle-box-a-malak

26) Jung and Dean’s Journey Towards Self-Integration in 14x11 Damaged Goods (third in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182299438269/jung-and-deans-journey-towards-self-integration

27) Damaged Goods (14x11) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182307242539/damaged-goods-14x11

28) Cosmic Order and Entropy: What’s Death’s Game? (14x11) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182350642244/cosmic-order-and-entropy-whats-deaths-game

and some additional discussion with @emblue-sparks

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182380817269/cosmic-order-and-entropy-whats-deaths-game 

29) The Riddle of the Sphinx: 14z12 Prophet and Loss (a guest meta for @metafest ) (including more on the Ghost of John Winchester - Jungian meta adjacent)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182482293379/the-riddle-of-the-sphinx-14x12-prophet-and-loss

and some additional meta and discussion with @verobatto-angelxhunter

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182487467794/the-riddle-of-the-sphinx-14x12-prophet-and-loss

and some more with @emblue-sparks

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182501242824/the-riddle-of-the-sphinx-14x12-prophet-and-loss

30) Ouroboros in Prophet and Loss (14x12) (fourth in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182486474324/ouroboros-in-prophet-and-loss-14x12

31) Dr. Sexy of the Lord in Prophet and Loss

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182501242824/the-riddle-of-the-sphinx-14x12-prophet-and-loss

plus self--reblog with more on the “Dr. Novak” alias

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182538453119/dr-sexy-of-the-lord-in-14x12-prophet-and-loss

32) A Pearl of Great Price - 14x13 Lebanon (fifth in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182660472289/a-pearl-of-great-price-14x13-lebanon

with some additional discussion and meta with @mittensmorgul and @paperwhitenarcissus

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182667170284/a-pearl-of-great-price-14x13-lebanon

33) 14x13 Lebanon - Some Silent Storytelling Notes on the Pawn-Shop

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182666922119/14x13-lebanon-some-silent-storytelling-notes-on

34) The Bruise as a Kiss: Cinematic Queerness and the Violence Between Dean and Cas in 14x13

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182669190399/the-bruise-as-a-kiss-cinematic-queerness-and-the

35) An Angel, and Lucifer’s Kid? Queer-Coding and Dean’s “Found Family” in 14x13 Lebanon

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182794294534/an-angel-and-lucifers-kid-queer-coding-and

36) Movie Poster Meta for 14x13 (end note to a multi-authored discussion with @paintmeahero @mittensmorgul @shirtlesssammy @justanotheridijiton )

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182843848469/paintmeahero-shirtlesssammy-mittensmorgul

37) Old Timey SPN: A Fresh (Queer) Look at 4x06 Yellow Fever

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182874642184/old-timey-spn-a-fresh-queer-look-at-4x06

38) 14x14 Ouroboros Promo: Procrustes Greek Myth Meta-Spec (part of a discussion with @mittensmorgul @postmodernmulticoloredcloak - Jungian meta adjacent)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182991822784/mittensmorgul-postmodernmulticoloredcloak 

39) The Man Who Would Be King - Edlund’s Literary Allusion and 6x20

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183118270999/the-man-who-would-be-king-edlunds-literary

40) 14x14 Promo Meta Spec (a discussion with @elizabethrobertajones and @hum-bee - started Destiel, became @hum-bee ‘s meta on Castiel’s depression, then mine on the separate, but related, queer subtext narratives for Dean and Cas this season) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183246356449/dean-is-getting-better-at-communicating

41) The Kiss of the Queer Gorgon in 14x14 Ouroboros

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183323000224/the-kiss-of-the-queer-gorgon-in-14x14-ouroboros 

42) The Serpent and the Egg: Snake and Eye Symbology in 14x14 Ouroboros (sixth in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183327000184/the-serpent-and-the-egg-snake-and-eye-symbology

43) Perseus, Jack and the Gorgon in 14x14

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183337497344/perseus-jack-and-the-gorgon-in-14x14

44) The Siren and the Gorgon 4x14 and 14x14

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183342830074/the-siren-and-the-gorgon-4x14-and-14x14

And with an addition:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183368457514/the-siren-and-the-gorgon-4x14-and-14x14

45) Noah Ophis 14x14 (Meanings and the name of the Gorgon)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183363993019/noah-ophis-14x14

And some further discussion with @justanotheridijiton and @mittensmorgul

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183370426434/noah-ophis-14x14 

46) Another Alchemical Easter Egg in 14x14 (seventh in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183388134889/another-alchemical-easter-egg-in-14x14

Plus additions and discussion with @mittensmorgul  and @trickster-archangel :

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183876036674/another-alchemical-easter-egg-in-14x14

47) The Justin Smith/ Dean Smith Ouroboros (14x15 and 4x17)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183497401344/the-justin-smith-dean-sm)ith-ouroboros 

with additional discussion with @mittensmorgul @a-bit-of-influence @verobatto-angelxhunter and @magnificent-winged-beast :

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183520934439/the-justin-smith-dean-smith-ouroboros

48) Yellow Fever Redux in 14x15 Peace of Mind

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183498528974/yellow-fever-redux-in-peace-of-mind-14x15

and with additional discussion with @magnificent-winged-beast and @verobatto-angelxhunter

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183507216399/yellow-fever-redux-in-peace-of-mind-14x15

49) Oranges are not the Only Fruit (part of a multi-authored discussion with @postmodernmulticoloredcloak and @verobatto-angelxhunter )

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183505777909/verobatto-angelxhunter-drsilverfish 

50) Do Snakes Like Bacon? (Queer-Coding) (14x15)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183505636319/celestialdean-do-snakes-like-bacon-bacon-and 

51) The Satire in Charming Acres (14x15)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183526003969/the-satire-in-charming-acres-14x15-peace-of-mind 

52) The Book of Life in Donatello’s Kitchen (14x15) with thanks to @postmodernmulticoloredcloak for the heads up!

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183528415774/postmodernmulticoloredcloak-look-what-i-found-in

53) “AU” Past Episode References in 14x15 Peace of Mind (and the Theme of Fate vs Free Will)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183549410559/au-past-episode-references-in-14x15-peace-of

and with an addition thanks to @mittensmorgul

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183568337094/au-past-episode-references-in-14x15-peace-of 

54) A Call-Back to 4x01 in 14x15 (this is an addition to a meta by @poorreputation about Charming Acres as a Metaphor for Heaven)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183570660759/spn-14x15-peace-of-mind-heaven-and-charming

55) The Bird Represents God (14x15) (an addition/ discussion on bird poop to @verobatto-angelxhunter ‘s S14 meta-spec master-post)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183582551424/my-supernatural-season-14-specs-in-one 

56) Dean Made me Watch the Lost Boys Like 20 Times (14x16 Don’t Go in the Woods)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183635993619/dean-made-me-watch-the-lost-boys-like-20-times

57) The Ghostfacers in 14x16

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183638151784/the-ghostfacers-in-14x16

58) The Kohonta, The Wendigo and..... The Winchesters? Cannibalism in 14x16

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183640736269/the-kohonta-the-wendigo-and-the-winchesters 

59) More Musings on the Signifiance of Bird Poop in 14x16 with @elizabethrobertajones @mittensmorgul and @neven-ebrez

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183648898244/elizabethrobertajones-five-p-m

60) Lucifer Rides Again?.... Games Within Games in 14x17 Game Night

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183968888069/lucifer-rides-again-games-within-games

61) A Discussion on Alchemy and the Season’s End with @occamshipper

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183972692154/thoughts-for-absencemoriah

62) Sixteenth Century Burmese Blood Rubies (14x17)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183973554064/sixteenth-century-burmese-blood-rubies-14x17

63) Cindy’s Waffle House in 14x17

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183990322609/cindys-waffle-house-in-14x17

64) Nick’s Spell in 14x17 (A Bit of Body-Snatching Spec)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183991533929/nicks-spell-in-14x17-a-bit-of-body-snatching

65) Castiel and Food: A Discussion with @bluestar86 and @tinkdw (14x17)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183993473339/this-episode-again-reminding-us-that-angels-can

66) Is Anael in League with Satan?: A Discussion with @postmodernmulticoloredcloak  

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184019357044/postmodernmulticoloredcloak

67) The Scapegoat: Speculative Musings on S14′s End (Moriah) (Linked to the Season’s Jungian Themes - Scapegoating and the Unacknowledged Shadow)  (eighth in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184045009309/the-scapegoat-speculative-musings-on-s14s-end

with an additional note:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184068368304/the-scapegoat-speculative-musings-on-s14s-end

68) You Can Still Be a Cookie-Baking, Cardigan-Wearing Big Softie Without a Soul (14x17 Game Night)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184063447919/you-can-still-be-a-cookie-baking-cardigan-wearing

69) Dutch Camera Angles in 14x17 - A Discussion with @mittensmorgul

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184117004089/mittensmorgul-i-was-just-thinking-of-all-the

70) 14x18 Absence: The Games Continue? (14x18)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184131452324/14x18-absence-the-games-continue 

with additional discussion with @shirtlesssammy

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184140015899/14x18-absence-the-games-continue

71) Re-Fridging Mary Winchester: The Ouroboros Narrative Swallows its Origin Story (14x18 Absence)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184188830889/re-fridging-mary-winchester-the-ouroboros

72) Dean Would Never Tell Cas He Was Dead To Him (14x18 - end comment on dramatic irony on a post by @superduperdestiel33 )

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184158399039/dean-would-never-tell-cas-that-he-was-dead-to-him

73) Jack, Godstiel and Jesus Parallels - A 14x19 Promo Discussion with @trickster-archangel (Jungian meta adjacent)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184165716364/trickster-archangel-i-was-watching-the-promo

74) A Spec Discussion on the Snake, Chicken and Egg Story (14x14) in Relation to Jack and 14x19 Jack in the Box and 14x20 Moriah with @neven-ebrez and @mittensmorgul

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184234111884/neven-ebrez-neven-ebrez-mittensmorgul

75) A Pillar of Salt in 14x19 Jack in the Box

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184302344489/a-pillar-of-salt-in-14x19-jack-in-the-box

and with addition discussion with @postmodernmulticoloredcloak

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184305778829/a-pillar-of-salt-in-14x19-jack-in-the-box

76) Hallucifer or Lucifer? (14x19 Jack in the Box)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184303628429/hallucifer-or-lucifer-14x19

77) The Wraith at Mary’s Funeral (14x19) (end comment on a discussion with @mittensmorgul and @postmodernmulticoloredcloak )

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184305430244/hi-mittens-im-not-understanding-what-the-point 

78) “So, Who’s Ready to Take on The Book of Samuel?” (14x19  Jack in the Box)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184308630909/so-whos-ready-to-take-on-the-book-of-samuel 

79) A Discussion on Dean and Cas and Chuck and Faith (14x19) with @norahastuff

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184325713124/norahastuff-drsilverfish-norahastuff-you

80) Mary is Watching Over You.... From a Mirror Universe? (14x20 Moriah)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184458723054/mary-is-watching-over-you-from-a-mirror

81) Fate vs Free Will - “Welcome to the End” (14x20 Moriah)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184462086934/fate-vs-free-will-welcome-to-the-end-14x20

with additional discussion with @emblue-sparks

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184465647879/fate-vs-free-will-welcome-to-the-end-14x20

82) More Bird-Poop Meta: A Discussion with @trickster-archangel

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184501155254/trickster-archangel-it-just-occurred-to-me

83) “MIrror Universe” Meanings (14x20)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184491569414/mirror-universe-14x20

with additional discussion with @trickster-archangel and @occamshipper 

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184508555094/mirror-universe-14x20

84) Dean’s Jungian Shadow Arc in S14: Confronting the Internal Father (2x22 to 14x20 Moriah) (ninth in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184507150574/deans-jungian-shadow-arc-in-s14-confronting-the

85) Jack Kline Novak Winchester: Son, TFW Mirror, Trinity and Key; Quaternity, Ouroboros, Caduceus and Harbinger of The End (14x20) (tenth in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184542079054/jack-kline-novak-winchester-son-tfw-mirror

86) So Who Has Been Resurrecting Castiel? (Post 14x20 Musings)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184558105759/so-who-has-been-resurrecting-castiel-post-14x20

and with added discussion with @mittensmorgul

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184570379724/so-who-has-been-resurrecting-castiel-post-14x20

87) Chuck and Reno (14x20 plus S15 Spec on Chuck and Amara - end comment on a discussion by @tarend and @hi-im-dazey

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184580452909/chuck-and-reno

POST-SCRIPT!!!

All My Meta on the Jungian Themes of S14 Collected Together in a 10 Part Series:

1) The Shadow 14x08 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/180906003584/the-shadow-14x08

2) 14x09 The Spear (Jungian Decoder Ring Edition) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/181122764984/14x09-the-spear-jungian-decoder-ring-edition

3) Jung and Dean’s Journey Towards Self-Integration in 14x11 Damaged Goods 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182299438269/jung-and-deans-journey-towards-self-integration

4) Ouroboros in Prophet and Loss (14x12) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182486474324/ouroboros-in-prophet-and-loss-14x12

5) A Pearl of Great Price - 14x13 Lebanon 

 http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182660472289/a-pearl-of-great-price-14x13-lebanon

6) The Serpent and the Egg: Snake and Eye Symbology in 14x14 Ouroboros 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183327000184/the-serpent-and-the-egg-snake-and-eye-symbology

7) Another Alchemical Easter Egg in 14x14 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183388134889/another-alchemical-easter-egg-in-14x14 

8) The Scapegoat: Speculative Musings on S14′s End (Moriah) (Linked to the Season’s Jungian Themes - Scapegoating and the Unacknowledged Shadow) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184045009309/the-scapegoat-speculative-musings-on-s14s-end

9) Dean’s Jungian Shadow Arc in S14: Confronting the Internal Father (2x22 to 14x20 Moriah)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184507150574/deans-jungian-shadow-arc-in-s14-confronting-the

10) Jack Kline Novak Winchester: Son, TFW Mirror, Trinity and Key; Quaternity, Ouroboros, Caduceus and Harbinger of The End (14x20) 

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184542079054/jack-kline-novak-winchester-son-tfw-mirror

[blapisblogs]

Oh god... Yeah, right after the in-video ad break, we’re hit with this: Doug Walker dressed like a Nazi with a smudged dotted line around his face and the words “person you hate” written on his forehead in sharpie. Dude, if this moment didn’t make you stop and wonder what the fuck happened with your life to bring you to this moment, then it damn well should’ve been.

Before you ask if this was based on something from the film or album, yes, but as usual there’s context for it. It’s difficult for me to explain, but in short the idea is that Pink’s attempt to build a metaphorical wall between himself and everyone else is making him more and more mentally unsound, right up to the point where after he’s forced to be drugged up for one of his shows he hallucinates himself as a fascist (the very thing his father died fighting against), the fans his zealous followers, and his concerts rallies where he encourages violence against marginalized groups. This goes on for a few songs with the violence and threats escalating in each one, and by the end of the last one he’s ranting and raving incoherently on a megaphone until the hallucination ends as he shouts for it all to stop, finally realizing how dangerous the things he’s been doing to himself are. It’s disturbing, and intentionally so. That’s what I got out of both the album and the film anyway. I have no clue what Doug Walker got out of this part of the film, though, because these next two parody songs have almost nothing to do with it. The first one mentions it so people will know that it’s a parody of something from the film, but that’s about it, and the second one doesn’t mention anything about the film or album at all.

The next two parodies are of “In the Flesh” (the reprise), and “Waiting for the Worms”, neither of which I will post links to based on what I explained earlier, but if you want to look them up yourself I will warn you that there are things said there that are identical to things the Nazis have said and done, and use words like “queers” and others that I dare not say nor want to. (Also, yeah, they didn’t include “Run Like Hell”, presumably because Doug couldn’t think of another full parody’s worth of “fuck you, haters” for it.) In the parody of the former, Doug addresses his crowd of followers, which are the same five people copy-pasted onto the screens of multiple devices (I can’t tell if that’s supposed to be intentional commentary or Doug didn’t have enough people willing to work with him to pull off what he wanted for this), in a place called the “Echo Chamber”.

Yes, really.

It’s supposed to be commentary on how bad callout/outrage/cancel/purity/whatever-we’re-calling-it-this-month culture can be, but considering who this is coming from, what his own fans are like, and the rest of the presentation in this “review” it comes off more like “technology bad” and “social media bad”. Worse than that, the latter parody song is still about callout/outrage/cancel/etc. culture, only now it’s even more apparent that this is his way of commenting on the Change the Channel movement. This isn’t just me saying this either, other people have taken note on it as well, including people who didn’t even completely hate Doug Walker after the Change the Channel thing happened. I’ve seen one person try to (rather weakly) argue that it wasn’t trying to mock the Change the Channel movement, but even if one were to give them the benefit of the doubt and they weren’t making fun of that, then 1: they still should’ve known that doing something like this was going to get people to draw comparisons to said movement whether it was intended or not, and 2: it’s still absurdly over-the-top and out of touch with why “outrage/cancel/callout/whatever culture” has become a thing. It’s about as subtle as, well, a hammer to the face. (Speaking of which, the hammers for this parody are used to make hashtags instead of an ‘x’ and instead of chanting “Pink Floyd” or “Hammers” the fans chant “hashtag”. I’ve been sitting here for five minutes trying to think of how to comment on this, but all I can do is put a hand up to my face like Captain Picard in those memes, I think that says it all.)

This message of “technology and social media bad” is so ridiculously passé at this point that it’s laughable, and yet it seems like Doug Walker is under the impression that he’s saying something new and brilliant. This is also a truly bizarre message to be hearing from a guy who had so much success with his internet career that he quit his previous job to pursue it full-time. You know, that career that’s dependent on technology. (Also, Doug, social media itself didn’t cause those problems with said internet career: that was all you.)

The sad part is that for this sequence we get some brief scenes with actually good CGI of things like marching smartphones (identical to the original’s marching hammers) and a decently-animated 2-D(-ish?) sequence of a six-fingered hand coming up from the ground and forming into a hammer much like something that happened during part of the film (not this part specifically, but a part). It’s weird in context, but these animated parts look far better than any of the other effects that were used earlier. I’m guessing the guest person who made the effects I’ll talk about later also animated this (at least the CGI bits; as I said earlier, the 2-D-ish parts look so suspiciously close to the original that I have to wonder if they were traced over for this). While it is good, that just makes me wonder that if they were hired to make the animation in this part then why didn’t Doug let them animate the black eagle scene for the “Goodbye Blue Sky” parody section too? He clearly had the time and budget to get a talented animator to do this stuff for him, so why not fully use them?

Also, I swear one of the visuals looks more like a mashup between something from the opening of Phantom of the Paradise and The Wall than anything actually from The Wall alone. Maybe Doug and/or the person animating this got their rock operas momentarily mixed. Maybe they did this on purpose to mess with people. Maybe my brain’s making up this shit because a Phantom of the Paradise/The Wall double feature sounds infinitely better than this “review”. Maybe the headache I’ve gotten while watching this dumpster fire is fucking with me. I don’t know.

[Lyrics (and snark) below the cut]

Oh yeah, I’m the P-Person you all think you know That sucks up all your angst and confusion I’m that nameless foe, huh!

[Oh, so you are trying to do an impression of Bob Geldof. ...It shouldn’t take me over half-way into the “review” to figure out for sure that’s what you’re doing. Or did you choose to only actually do an impression of him for just this one part? I can’t even fathom almost any of Doug’s thought process for this “review” anymore.]

I’ve got some weird news for ya, sunshine, This was dissin’ Thatcher’s administration

[So I have seen Wikipedia mention that at least some people have either interpreted or used this part as commentary on Margaret Thatcher, and I don’t know enough about UK politics to dispute whether it was intentional or not. What bothers me is that if this was intentional, then how did Doug pick up on this? That would mean that he either caught this but somehow didn’t pick up on any of the other, more obvious things in this film that doesn’t have “the slightest bit of subtlety”, or he researched this and only this. Or it was a random guess he made that happens to coincide with what some others have interpreted from this part. Who knows.]

But it’s vague enough to put anyone you fear - Politician, showman - just put their face here!

[Uh... Are you talking about how someone edited this part of The Wall so that it was Drumpf in there because of how much he talks about his stupid wall? ...You are aware that the entire point of the film and album is that those kind of walls aren’t good and should be broken down, right? You know that Roger Waters himself openly despises Drumpf, right? ...Right?]

Are there any authority figures in the crowd tonight? Well put them in The Wall! (Get. Them. All.) That one’s looking stressed, he wants to feel oppressed Put him in The Wall! (Post. His. Balls!)

[Oh yes, The Wall - a film about the cycle of abuse and the effects it has on people and how taking self-isolation to its most extreme is unhealthy for the health of one’s self as well as those around them, among many other things - is something that adults don’t take seriously, not like this web video that has lines talking about people posting some dude’s balls on social media for shits and giggles. (In case you couldn’t tell that was sarcasm.)]

And that one looks sheltered, like she never leaves her room I’ll be that friend that you can blame for all your gloom That one looks like he really wants to be outraged! Now with social media, you have the stage!

[...You know, as awful as the previous songs in this “review” were, at least they were about the film and album. This, however... What even is this?]

(This is the part where the five-person audience starts chanting “hashtag” which goes on until Doug and his two goons run outside, run back inside due to it being too bright out, and then start the next parody. There’s not much to comment on for that, it’s just stupid.)

[End “In the Flesh” parody, begin “Waiting for the Worms” parody]

(One, two, three, post it!) Ooh, you can’t convince me now Ooh, I’m too far on my side Goodbye, nuance I never will abide

[You are not one to talk about nuance, not regarding this film or album, and certainly not about the Change the Channel movement, which this parody is pretty transparently about as we’ll see soon enough.]

It’s us vs. them, I don’t even know who us or them are

[“Us and them, and after all we're only ordinary men.” Come on, man, I know it’s not from The Wall, but the opportunity was right there. Actually, since Rob Walker is there as the Charts Guy (a recurring character in Doug’s reviews), you could’ve even thrown in a “Have a Cigar” reference if you wanted (also not from The Wall, but still). I know at this point I’m nitpicking, but I’m forcing myself to watch a “review” where a guy dressed himself like a Nazi to make a blatant “take that” statement against his “haters” without understanding and/or caring why the Nazi comparisons were there in the original; if Doug Walker doesn’t give a shit about those kind of details, then why should I.]

I just wanna be angry so I can be (Tweeting) About those who hate me (Tweeting) I need their attention (Tweeting) Love me or hate me, just look at me more

[Sadly one can’t say that this train wreck of a “review” didn’t make at least some people look at Doug Walker again even after they didn’t want to.]

(Tweeting) Whatever side you choose, just don’t ever wane (Tweeting) Waiting for the point

[I’d joke about how that’s how most people felt about the video at this point, but everyone has made that joke already. Everyone.]

Don’t fear that you’re wrong Just fight until the end, my friend

[At this point I could just say “Okay, Boomer” at every line in these two parody songs and it’d be about as meaningful as all of Doug’s comments about the actual film. Remember, the film he’s parodying here and supposed to be reviewing (allegedly)? The film he’s not mentioned once in this particular parody?]

All you need to do is fight off something Don’t worry! As long as you don’t see me as human, You can hate me all you want! Because remember, this can never happen to you! I’m bad! You’re good! The more extreme you can get the more happy you’ll become! They’ll put that person whose face you hate here, and tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet!

[...Doug, please tell me you didn’t have these parody songs in mind first as a sort of rebuttal against your detractors and then used it as an excuse to make a “review” for the actual film in this style as well as a whole parody album of it...

Also, this may be another nitpick, but towards the end the guys aren’t even “marching” in time to the music. Because of course they’re not.]

[moonbelt]

»mind over matter

↳ neighbors to lovers au

⇢ pairing: jaebum | reader

⇢ genre: fluff + slight angst + sexual themes

⇢ word count: 9.704

⇢ description: as it turns out your cat loves your neighbors apartment more than yours. consequently it happens to belong to the new neighbor dude that’s stuck comforting you after a measly break-up.

author’s note: born out of this request, and the sheer need to read a neighbor au fic haha. i hope you enjoy it anon! i really hope i did this justice!!

It takes only a moment for your life to change right before your eyes. And although you had never been one to abide or listen to corny quotes ripped off the internet, your step-mother had framed more than half of them around your apartment. In an attempt to bring "life" into your dingy residence. You hadn't even realized that they could, in fact, be true. Actual facts.

You had long since accepted the fact that there were always greater things at work. You were in control of your life but not that of others. Everything had a cycle, a plan, and that didn't by default make it any fair. Nothing in life ever was, your mother had drilled into your head, but that didn't stop you from resenting it.

You resented the things you could not change and loathed the things you could. Like how you could've prevented this whole shit-show from happening if you'd opened your eyes a little wider and seen all the thorns beneath the roses. The thorns being your ex-boyfriend. Major emphasis on the ex because you wouldn't be caught dead crawling back to that bastard, Theo.

Theo. It all led to him.

Well not necessarily everything, more like anything that had to do with your romantic and, in a long round-about, extended way, your social life. A deep shudder racks through your body as you begin to think about him. Oh God, you wanted so badly to run out of your apartment and back to his and smack his head so hard he saw the stars all the way from the Upside Down.

So maybe you're being a bit overdramatic when you say: All the moments that have happened so far in your life were, inevitably, leading to shit. But in no way are you not entitled to say it.

Your boss had nitpicked everything you'd done all day, creeping steadily up your already tensed nerves. One of your colleagues — René — was always within earshot when this happened, like glue you couldn't scrape off no matter how hard you tried. Always ready to throw a sly remark your way every time your boss had something to complain about. The only thing stopping your fist from connecting firm with her jaw was the fact that you prided yourself on having more class than her.

This decision that you wrongfully, and albeit naively, made came back to bite you deep in the ass.

Reason one as to why you're cooped up in your small apartment alone on a Friday night. Keyword in that sentence is: alone. You suppose that the blame doesn't lie with René alone. It's more eighty percent Theo and twenty percent René. Theo. Even his name begins to remind you of quickly decomposing poop. You would never have guessed him to be a cheater, but then again you had been blinded by whatever the heck it was you'd seen in him.

You shudder for the nth time that night as you bring your blanket closer to your chin and sigh into your chest. This whole situation is stupid and you're positive that in three months you'll look back at it and laugh. But not now. Now you'd rather throw yourself into watching your favorite French melodrama titled Piégé.

At first, you'd only started watching it in a bid to get more accustomed to the language as you were taking a French course in college and you did not want to fail. But it had been approximately eight months since you'd graduated university and you were under no obligation to be watching it anymore. In fact, you have no idea how you even got into Piégé in the first place, but at least it's helping you attempt to forget what a shitty boyfriend Theo had been. Never mind that the series is filled to the brim with unnecessary drama. But, hey! You'd rather watch the drama about other people's lives than dwell on the drama brewing in yours.

Turning your attention back to your laptop that's gingerly placed on your lap, you try to get immersed back into the film. The main character — Alphonsine Vernoux — is saying, no screaming, at her boyfriend to get out of her apartment because she "can't be with him because our parents would never approve." Her boyfriend, a man named Jean-Louis refuses and long story short — because there's a lot of back and forth squabbles that ultimately mean the same thing; Alphonsine and Jean-Louis have really hot make-out sex.

The scene though is disrupted by your phone beeping off with the arrival of a new text message. It's from Youngjae, your best and only friend from work. For a moment, you're tempted to ignore it and watch Jean-Louis push Alphonsine up against the wall in sexy frustration. But alas, you decide against it, Youngjae probably has a really good reason for seeking out your companionship, even if it does come in the form of a text and my actual speaking.

Youngjae: Did you know a Tarantula spider can survive for more than two years without food?? [9:32 pm]

You fight a laugh as you think of an answer. And you'll admit, you had no idea this particular breed of spider could survive that long. You figure he must be watching another documentary because this is a reoccurring theme. Almost every(?) night, Youngjae sends you threads of rapid-fire texts narrating the things he found out from animal documentaries, that he's definitely already watched a thousand times but still is beyond fascinated by. Usually, you also sent him texts about Piégé but today you weren't feeling it.

You: really??? thats cool. maybe i should hope to be a tarantula in my next life? [9:33 pm]

Youngjae: lol who says you even have a next life? might be ur last one right now [9:36 pm]

Youngjae: oh hey, i was gonna ask you. are you and theo down to go watch a movie tomorrow? that new horror movie you were wanting to see is playing [9:36 pm]

You stare at your phone for a good ten minutes wondering what exactly you should send as a reply, berating yourself for having not yet told Youngjae about the things that transpired between you and Theo. That you caught Theo in bed with René roughly a week ago and you doubt you even want to tell him.

You know he won't pity you, Youngjae would most likely feel saddened by the events but not pity directed at you. Maybe pity directed at Theo? Because he damn sure lost the second-best thing that happened in his life, the first best thing being Ara, your cat. And it's not like you're heartbroken and devastated by what happened, you feel more sad about it than anything. Sad and tired. Five months with that dude and it all amassed to absolutely nothing.

The only thing that seems able enough to break you out of your trance state is the loud blaring of your alarm clock as it reads you the time. Nine forty-five. Time for you to feed your cat. Your cat that always seems to magically disappear once you get home from work. You groan. Ara had always been fonder of Theo than you, after all, he had been the one to pick her out. You had wanted a dog but as always, Theo had convinced you. And even though at first, you'd hated how Ara scratched almost everything in sight, she'd grown on you and now you wished she'd done the same.

Pushing yourself off the sofa, you make your way to your apartment searching for Ara. Usually, she likes to hang in dark places, ergo your closets, but after you make two rounds of opening and closing every drawer or door without finding her, you begin to think that something has gone amiss.

Alphonsine Vernoux is still going on whatever new drama has befallen her. She talks in rapid French that you don't understand completely because of the lack of your trusty subtitles. Well not talking, more screaming than anything. She always seems to do more screaming than actual talking, but maybe that's just you.

"Merde!" She cries now, and if the broken understanding of the language is anything to go by. Fuck! is the translation.

Fuck it really is. You can't lose a cat. Correction: you can't lose your cat. You love Ara too much and although the love isn't reciprocated in the same way you want, you can't be responsible for the death of a good ole cat.

Okay, so maybe the 'good' is an oversimplification but you don't want the blood of anything on your hands, with a little exception for Theo, you're not above getting into a catfight with him (which you technically already did, although the damage was mainly done with words.) Calling Theo a bloody bastard and airing out all his dirty laundry (mainly his nauseating habits that you'd pushed to the side) to dry in front of his new fling, René was as much metaphoric blood you were willing to have sprayed on your hands. Maybe you were being more influenced by your dramas than you thought?

But back to the real point at hand, you do not want ill to befall anyone (apart from Theo). And especially not your cat.

You're so far gone with searching every nook and cranny of your little apartment for a hint of Ara that you don't notice the incessant knocking that has started tapping up your door. Quickly, you drop the pile of clothes you'd thrown out of your wardrobe, as you had raided to look for Ara, and head over to your front door.

Peering up through the peephole, you try to decipher who's there. Hopefully not Theo. He'd tried stopping by twice since you broke up with him and it always ended in you telling him to get the hell out and he claiming to have made a "grave mistake" and all that jazz that you do not believe which leads to you yelling at him to leave again. Jesus Christ, you were turning into a miniature Alphonsine, the only thing missing was the hot sex. Which you weren't getting any time soon and even if you were, it sure as fuck wasn't coming from Theo.

But regardless of this new discovery, you're still in no mood to see him today. You already have to deal with him every day at work and you'd rather not bring that hell of a mess home.

So, when you pull the door open the door, you're somewhat already preparing yourself to clash face-to-face with your ex. Ready to send him away again because, for the love of God, you're not going to hand him a second chance even if your life depends on it. But instead of Theo, it's someone completely different. Someone that's holding a sleepy Ara in his hands, scratching her head lightly.

"Oh my god," you say, reaching for Ara and taking her cautiously into your arms. You know better than to try and disrupt her sleepy state. "Thank you so much. I had no idea she even left the apartment."

The man waves away your gratitude with a shrug, smiling in a blithe manner. "It's no problem at all. I'm not sure if you noticed but she likes coming to my apartment a lot."

This is news to you but you don't want to seem as incompetent as you feel in front of this stranger, so you force a smile unto your face and try to relax the tensions in your shoulders.

"Really? I'm sorry but I have to ask, who are you?"

A look of embarrassment washes over his features as he soaks in your words. Maybe you were too harsh, calling him out like that? But you truly didn't know him at all. There was no way you'd ever forget a face like his, you don't think. He didn't have rough around the edges, rogue looks like Theo (or any of your exes, to be honest) but he had a sort of laidback and soft vibe with black locks falling short off his shoulders in smooth bouncy waves.

Clearing his throat, he replies. "I'm your neighbor, Jaebum. You can call me Jae for short. I moved in about four weeks ago? Sorry I wasn't able to introduce myself earlier, but yeah, your cat likes to come over to my place and at first I really did think she was a stray, that's why I've been taking care of her anytime she showed up but had I known, I would've never tried to impose on you like that, that was—"

You have a feeling that he's not going to stop rambling unless you do the honors of helping him. So, you interrupt.

"It's okay, don't worry about it... Jae. She can do that sometimes. I really should get her a collar or something."

Since she'd mostly stayed at Theo's place and not yours, you hadn't thought about getting her one before. Theo didn't want it on her and you hadn't really thought about the possibility of losing her. Mainly because the events that surrounded you bringing Ara to your place had been unnerving. You'd found Theo in bed with Rene and subsequently, you had stormed out of there (after giving him a full piece of your broken mind) with Ara in your hands and your car keys already fumbling with trying to open your car.

"What's her name?"

Jaebum — Jae — is the one to shake you out of your thoughts, looking genuinely curious to know the answer to his question. You figure there's nothing wrong with telling him, especially since he'd been kind enough to take care of her in your negligence.

"Ara," you finally say, giving him a dry smile. "Thank you for taking care of her for me in my absence."

He shrugs again, running his hand through his hair and you watch as Ara meows as she stretches her body towards him. You still in your movements of scratching the top of her head. She never does that. At least, she's never done that to you, she'd always craved Theo's attention and now you see, she craves Jaebum's.

Maybe she's going through a phase where she only wants male attention?

You think it'll be rude to send him on his way without making small talk so after a while of restraining Ara in your arms, you fix your gaze back to him and say:

"So... do you have any cats?"

"Yeah. Three but one is staying over at my sisters for the meantime."

Wow. You don't think you could ever be responsible for more than two lives, you could barely remind yourself to have three meals a day and had to set timers to feed Ara because, god willing, you are bound to forget to one way or another. So, for that reason alone, you begin to hold this neighbor of yours on a higher pedestal. Taking care of three cats doesn't sound as comfortable or easy, you admire him for that.

"You must really love cats then," you snort to yourself at how obvious you're being. Of course, he loves cats, he has three.

He nods his head, probably realizing that this is his cue to leave. "Cats are amazing. Anyways, it was nice meeting you..."

"y/n," you fill in for him.

Jae smiles at your name as he continues on. "It was nice meeting you, y/n. If Ara ever needs to hang out with other cats or anything like that, mine seem to love her more than me."

Oh, how you can relate. Ara seems to like everyone else on the planet but you, her caregiver. You frown. Maybe you're feeding her food she doesn't like? You make a mental note to research more on cat food before you turn in for the night.

"Nice meeting you too, Jae. Hopefully, we see each other sometime."

Against your own words, you do not, in fact, see each other sometime after that. If not for the fact that you're mainly preoccupied with due dates from work, you think you would have gone out of your way to make sure it happened because contrary to what your heart was telling you, you thought he was kind of cute. Well, not kinda. You really thought he was cute.

And if it had been of your own will, you would've long ago tried to ask him out on a date because hell, your single and ready to move past your ex. But your boss has ridiculously been on your case the past few weeks and by the luck of your fate, you've been paired, for the latest project, with René. René that refuses to let a day go by without rubbing into your face the "amazing" sex she's having with Theo, not that you even care. Fuck, you really want to deck her. How can someone be so un-classy about having your sloppy seconds? You'd never know.

Either way, René doesn't seem to be any help with the project. You've tried to work with her, although you really want to shove a stiletto heel through her eye for always going on and on about your fucking ex, she is adamant on not being productive or helpful. You wonder how she even got her job as a secretary in the first place. If you were the boss you'd never hire her. But in any case, you're stuck with her unhelpful ass for the next two weeks until the presentation to pitch a new update would be held.

"Ugh," you sigh to yourself as you lay on your living room floor, staring idly at your laptop. "This isn't going anywhere."

True to form, René had forgotten to send you the age demographics of people that had been using your company's app in the last six months. And without that vital information, you were stumped with how to prepare your speech. You wish you could call her and ask her to email it to you ASAP, but you know from experience that she would either ignore it or send you something completely irrelevant. What did you ever do to warrant such unprofessionalism from her, you wonder.

Flipping on your back, you stare absentmindedly at your ceiling. Maybe you should go out? It is a Wednesday night and you're almost certain that you're not going to clubbing today but you want to get out. So, after minutes of deliberating, you decide that you would go jogging. It's been a long time since you'd done anything active, you preferred to stay inside and watch stuff. But Piégé isn't scheduled to release a new episode until tomorrow, and you're bored.

Quickly, you go back to your room and try to find your exercise clothes that are hiding behind more used clothing. When you open your closet, you're met with the piercing blue eyes of Ara and your skin jumps off your bones.

"Oh my god, Ara," you say after catching your breath. "Why do you always do this."

These days she seems to be sulking. Maybe she's finally realizing that Theo is a no-show and you're all she's got. She refuses to allow you to carry her anymore and you think she's going through some kind of withdrawal phase. The only time she comes out of her dark places is to eat or to sit in front of the front door. Waiting for what? You don't know. But you guess she might be waiting for a long time.

Gingerly, you lift Ara up and make fast work with finding your clothes. Once you do, you strip out of your pajamas and change into your athletic leggings, a long-sleeved shirt and tie your shoes. Ara has made her way to the living room and once again has resumed her spot in front of the door. Christ, maybe you should call Theo and have the two of you work out details about the rearing of Ara.

Maybe two weeks with him and then two weeks with you? But then again, he hasn't actually asked about Ara at all since the breakup, so you wonder if he even cares that she's gone. You check to make sure her collar is on her neck before you grab your phone, keys, and earphones. Even though you're sure she won't care, you blow Ara a kiss right before you close the front door and lock it.

As you're walking past the apartment next to yours — room 321, to be exact — their door opens and out comes Jae. He has a leash connected to two collars that are respectively connected to one white cat and another black one. You still have at least a few seconds to dash down the stairs without him seeing you but you find your feet remaining where they are and you find yourself saying:

"Oh, hey!" There's so much excitement in your voice that you inwardly cringe at it. "Long time no see."

He makes a loud noise of surprise when his gazes rests on you, his hands reaching out to clutch his chest. "Shit, that scared me."

You laugh at him. His hair is hidden behind a gray beanie and it helps you see his face clearly and you notice the little black dot above one of his eyes, it's cute — you think.

"Sorry," you say, not sorry at all.

He knows this and his mouth breaks into a low smirk. He makes a move to run his hand through his hair but stops halfway when he remembers that he cannot because of the beanie. "Are you heading out?"

You nod your head. "Yeah, this body isn't going to work out itself."

"I'm taking Kunta and Odd for a walk, mind if I join you?" He points at each cat when he says their name and they perk up when he says it.

You suddenly feel like going back to your apartment and hugging Ara, but you know she'd probably scratch your face against the skinship. So, you grit your teeth and focus on the cats in front of you instead.

"Not at all. Do you have a route you usually take?" You ask as the two of you walk down the stairs, Kunta and Odd in Jaebum's arms.

"It's a pretty simple one. From here to the park and back."

Fucking hell. The park is at least thirty minutes away by car, imagine how far it'll be by walking? You groan at the thought. This is the first time you're going jogging in months and by god, you need to take it slow or else you'll end up passed out before you even make a round trip. Jaebum must realize your distaste about the prospect of making a fifty-minute walk because he offers to cut it short. Faster than you'd like, you agree to his adjusting. Maybe in a few weeks, you'd be able to, but right now in the state that you're in, you doubt you'll last.

Outside the August air is not as hot as you thought it'd be so you're thankful that you had enough sense to wear a long shirt because if not, you'd be tempted to run back inside your apartment and watch reruns of Piégé in the comfort of your bed. Jae sets his cats on the ground, oblivious to your internal turmoil, and begins to lead the way. Easily, you fall into step with him.

You find out that he's a very fast walker as you try to keep a conversation going. You ask him about his job and find out that he owns a pizzeria, to your astonishment. You'd always wanted to be your own boss, sadly that was a bust. He tells you that running his own place is pretty fun minus a few exceptions but it was a family business so, once he graduated college his father passed it on.

He asks you about what you do for fun and you tell him about your obsession — love — for Piégé with a pride in your voice. Although you tell him that you can't really watch it without subtitles since your French is still lacking, he seems blown by it regardless and you feel satisfied for some reason. Like you've impressed him a little.

After almost a good fifteen minutes of keeping the same pace and you feel as if you're finally getting the hang of things, he breaks into a run. You think you can keep up, you're not that out of shape but before you know it, you're struggling to release a breath and you're about ready to collapse on the concrete ground in defeat. Even his freaking cats have better stamina than you, damn.

"You okay there, y/n?" Jaebum asks when he catches a glimpse of you almost knocking your knees against each other. Fuck, this is embarrassing.

Struggling you manage a response. "Definitely. I'm a just a little... peachy."

Jaebum snickers at you, folding his arms across his chest and halting his steps to allow you calm down. "Really? Wouldn't have guessed."

You're tempted to throw him the finger because you know he is mocking you but instead, you squat down and place your head in between your hands. It hasn't even been thirty minutes and you already want to quit, how the hell is he doing it? You raise your head and give him a once-over. In his black t-shirt and matching basketball shorts, you think, he definitely looks the part of a healthy runner.

"Are you checking me out?"

Whoa, you are most definitely not. Okay, maybe you are. But it's not like you can help it. He has pretty defined muscles and his smile sort of does something to you, you're not exactly sure what, but you'd be a fool to deny how sexy he looks. He doesn't come off as cocky or overbearing. His looks are more soft and easy on your eyes, a good kind of feeling.

"So, what if I am?" You cock an eyebrow at him.

He doesn't expect your reply. You know this because, after a few seconds of him looking out of his element, he clears his throat and says:

"I was not expecting that."

You scoff lightly at him, standing back to your full height and dusting imaginary dust off your leggings. He's cute, you think for maybe the second(?) time that night.

"I'm ready to continue if you are," you pull your hair strands together and tie them into a ponytail.

"You're telling me," Jaebum laughs softly at the smirk dancing on your lips. "Bet you'll need another break in fifteen minutes."

Rolling your eyes, you pat his shoulder playfully. "Try me."

And try you he does. If you thought he was running fast before, he turns into damn sonic in front of your eyes. Holy shit, he's fast. You know now that he's toying with you, making you eat your own words. You kick yourself in the shin because of this, if you had kept your mouth shut, none of this would have happened and you wouldn't be begging for another rest-stop not even ten minutes later.

Jaebum guffaws at you as you crash with a heap onto a wooden bench littering around the plaza. Your muscles are crying for help, you think you might need to order an Uber to take you home because this running thing just isn't going to work out.

"Try me," he repeats your words but with a mocking undertone. "You're way too cute, you know."

Apparently, you don't know because you can feel your ears getting hotter by the second. Keep it together, y/n! You scream to yourself. You're not some high schooler. You've successfully graduated university; you are an adult. Being called cute should not get you lightheaded, goddamn! But your words fall on deaf ears because your body is still heating up, you effectively blame it on the lack of oxygen reaching your head and nothing else. Of course, nothing else.

"Shut up," you mumble mainly to yourself but he hears it and breaks into another fit of laughter. "I'll have you know, I'm usually a good runner. I'm just not in the mood today."

Jae raises his hands up in faux surrender. "Hey, hey. I believe you."

You want to chuck your sneakers at him but restrain yourself because you know there has to be something that he's bad at and when you find it, by gods, you would never let it go. You laugh to yourself. Yep, all you have to do is survive this one embarrassing moment and you're sure the world would be kind enough to repay back for your deed.

After all, life was all about the moments. And contrary to how the moments in your life were adding up about two weeks ago, this time the moments in your life, you were sure, are going to lead to you getting sweet, sweet revenge on Jae. He can have his laugh right now but you know in the end, you'll be the only one laughing... you hope.

It takes a while for him to sober up but when he does, he squats down and gives his attention to Kunta and Odd. He treats them tenderly and talks to them in a voice akin to what someone would use on a baby. You're not paying any mind to what he's saying until you hear your name fall from his lips. Much to your dismay, he is telling his cats all about your blunder and how he thinks you'll probably "pass out any minute now."

You huff out a breath and repeat your mantra to yourself. The universe was going to slip up and let you see the thing he was bad at, but until then you resign yourself to instead try your best at catching your breath.

You watch Jaebum interact with his cats and a small portion of your resolve fades away. You can tell that he really does adore them and for a moment you long for Ara. She's soft and cuddly whenever she allows you to hug her, you feel at peace thinking about it. Definitely one of the only good things that came out of your past relationship.

Contrary to the laugh bubbling in his chest, Jae is the one to suggest that the two of you head back to the apartment building without completing the route. You guess he's taking pity on your exhausted state because you simply can't do it anymore. The walk back is better and you're somewhat thankful that he doesn't start running halfway through.

He asks you, tentatively, about your job and it takes you several moments before you decide to tell him about your position as a management and research officer at a fashion wear company. The brand is considerably popular and you've seen more than a handful of people wearing the outfits your company produces. It fills you with joy that you're able to work there, although these days that joy has been replaced by laced displeasure, courtesy of Theo and René.

You don't tell him about them though, it's not like you want to air out all your problems, but you tell him about Youngjae — your silver lining of sorts. You tell him about the days where Youngjae is the only thing that keeps you smiling with his new discoveries from animal documentaries. Youngjae and you have been friends since your freshman year at college and you think it's a miracle that the two of you managed to get accepted into the same workplace.

Jaebum points out his favorite coffee shop as you near the apartment complex. It's a big one, the biggest store on the block, and you know this because you pick your late coffee fix from there when you're heading to work every morning. He likes his coffee black, no sugar and you gag over-exaggeratedly.

"What? It tastes good," he says incredulously.

You shake your head remorsefully, appalled by his lack of quality coffee taste. "It tastes like liquid shit and you know it."

He concedes. "Okay, maybe it does. But it keeps me awake at least."

Smiling smugly at him, you revel in your win. "Still tastes like shit."

The two of you keep talking about seemingly irrelevant things; his favorite genre of music, your love for ice cream in the winter, his favorite author — which happens to be William Shakespeare. You were tempted to laugh at him and call him pretentious until you saw the admiration glowing in his eyes; it was enough to make you reevaluate and let him go on a full expedition of his favorite works by him.

You don't realize you've been listening to him describe this love for at most eight minutes until you're in front of your apartment door and it's time to say goodbye but you kind of want to keep listening to him. It's something he really cares about, you can tell and for a reason, you don't know, it fills you with a sort of contentedness watching him talk about Shakespeare with such fervor.

Leaning on your apartment door, you're about to pitch in your own opinion to something he's said when your gaze catches someone walking up behind Jae. Oh, fuck shit. Groaning, you close your eyes. This cannot be happening. Not now, not here. You aren't starring in a melodrama, so why does it feel like you've been assigned the role of the main character?

"y/n!" The last person on earth that you want to see says with so much excitement in his voice you want to hurl yourself at the sun.

You can sense the confusion rolling off Jaebum in waves. You don't want him to be caught in the crossfire that's bound to happen between Theo and you. You're not very good with confrontations, blame Alphonsine for teaching you it was best to scream it all out when push comes to shove. You peel open your eyes and focus them unwaveringly on Jaebum.

"It was really nice hanging—"

"y/n! It's me, Theo," he repeats, coming closer and sidling up to you. "I came with flowers."

And what the fuck are flowers supposed to do? Flowers aren't going to keep his dick from finding the nearest trash can and dumping his load in it. God, you wonder, whatever you had ever seen in him?

Jae furrows his eyebrows in concentration, trying to piece who Theo is to you. Kunta and Odd are quickly becoming restless, wanting nothing more but to go into their home already and you take this as your cue.

"It was amazing hanging out with you Jae," you offer him a smile, ignoring Theo. "But I have to go now. We should hang out soon though, yeah?"

You don't wait for an answer, instead, you grab Theo's wrist roughly, because you're furious at him, and drag him into your apartment. You're about ready to pounce on him, ask him why the hell he's here — you thought you'd made it clear that you didn't want anything to do with him, apparently not clear enough.

"Jae? Who's Jae?" He asks once he's in the solace of your apartment.

"That's what you're asking me?" Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable this fucker is. "How many times do I have to tell you that I fucking hate you?"

"You don't hate me, y/n. Right now, you're angry, I get it. But we can work through this—"

You can't bear to listen to the bullshit that's coming out of his mouth. The way he says your name like you’re some kid that's throwing a non-deserved tantrum, makes you clench your fists at your sides. How, the ever-loving heck, had you dated him for five months? You can barely stand him now.

"Shut up! God, just shut up and get out. Why do you keep embarrassing yourself? Go back to René. The two of you deserve each other."

"I love you," he says and you know he's pulling out all the stops tonight directly out of his ass.

"Oh, fuck your love," you push his shoulder and direct him to the front door. Suddenly you're very angry, boiling even, and you can swear a vein in your neck is about to burst. "Go. I'm not playing Theo. If you don't leave, I'll call security."

There's a shift in the air and suddenly Theo is too close. You've never been afraid of him before; Theo's all talk and no bite. However, right now the feeling that slithers through your body is unadulterated anxiety. You're not backed against a wall but you feel like your safety has been compromised and you want him out. Out of your house, out of your hair, out of your life.

"Get out. We're done." You manage to say without your voice shaking, but your heart is pounding furiously in your chest. "I don't want you here."

"But you want Jae?" His already rough face contorts to something uglier. "What does he have that I don't, huh?"

For starters, he hasn't cheated on you, not like there's much competition there. Theo isn't the smartest cookie in the box, he thinks more with his sexual body parts than he does with his brain. You could swear that if you knocked on his head a shattering hollow sound will echo out, can't say you'd be surprised.

Alphonsine Vernoux, you think to yourself, watch me and be proud.

"His dick is pretty impressive, not going to lie."

Even when you're shaking in your boots, you can't really resist the urge to engage in a catfight with him. Your step-mother had always told you to go down screaming and by god, you are not going to allow Theo to intimidate you for something you don't need to feel bad for. Because you don't.

"You are a fucking slut!" His voice is loud and you can't help the incredulous laugh that falls from your lips.

"Me? Newsflash Theo; we're not together anymore. I can do whatever the hell I want."

He doesn't deserve an explanation because it doesn't matter. If he can do it when he's in a relationship, what's stopping you from doing it when you're not?

"It hasn't even been a month, y/n," he says this like it would matter to you if it has been a year or three. He doesn't own you, he ever did and he never will. Moreover, did he expect you to wait a fucking month to get over his sloppy ass?

"Are you seriously saying this right now? You're the one that screwed somebody else when we were dating! Are you fucking stupid or what?"

Theo blinks a dozen times a minute, not quite understanding what you're saying. A pig, that's what he is. So, he was allowed to go around sticking his small as fuck dick in anyone he pleased, but god forbid you do the same? (let's not even put into consideration the fact that you're single as a circle sure as hell isn't straight.)

Oh, how you want to reach up and smack him so hard he fades to dust on the spot but you're not crazy and you don't want to abuse him, you just want him to leave you alone.

"You know what? Just get out." Without waiting for him, you pull open your door and push him out with as much force as you can gather. "If we're not at work, I don't ever want to see your sexist, disgusting ass ever again. Take your stupid flowers and go give it to a bitch that cares because it sure as hell isn't me."

And then you slam the door with so much fervor it shakes on its hinges. You pull at your hair, agitated and tired because you hate him so much. Why did you even think it was a good idea to date him? The selfish prick only thinks about himself and must be some different type of delusional to think flowers were going to do anything to salve your relationship. Christ, you'd basically left Jaebum standing like a fool outside and for what?

You are pretty sure that he probably heard all that just happened. The walls in this apartment complex are thin and it's not like you weren't screaming at the top of your lungs. Ugh, you doubt he'd even talk to you again but you truly can't bring yourself to care anymore. All that you want to do now is sleep. Sleep and forget about everything. Never in your life have you ever felt so humiliated. If you could go back in time and erase meeting Theo from your history, you wouldn't even bat an eyelid.

Furiously, you punch the air and imagine it's Theo's face. It feels good to do it, like your dishing out his own medicine. You truly can't believe he thinks you were going to turn celibate because you dumped him, did he really have no sense? You keep going at it, punching the air until it feels like you've connected with his jaw because frankly, it's helping you release all your pent-up tension and annoyance.

A set of knocks proves to be the only thing able to bring you out of your punching galore and without missing a beat you yell:

"Go away, Theo! I mean it when I say I'll call the police. Don't try me."

"It's not Theo."

Indeed, Theo, it is not. Scrambling, you rush over and jack open your front door for the third time that night and through your eyes you see a glassy and blurry silhouette of Jaebum standing at your doorstep. Oh, he's not what you're expecting.

Clearing your throat, you attempt to correct your previous words. "I'm sorry about that. You're obviously not Theo and I'm sorry again for being so rude earlier, I don't—"

You're not really sure where you're going with your apology because even though you know what you want to say, the words keep mangling and choking up in your throat before you can say them.

"You're crying," he states softly and you realize now how wet your cheeks have become and why your vision is all muddled up.

"I'm not," you lie because dammit, you shouldn't be crying over that douche. You hastily try to wipe the tear marks away with the back of your palm but oh boy, they keep on coming.

He hesitates for a second before he raises his palm up and uses his fingers to rub at the tear stains. "You are. I heard what he said earlier."

You stomp your feet in annoyance because this is so unfair. How dare your ex just waltz in here and make you regret one of the best nights you've had in a long, long time. How fu—

"I for one, think your ex is the dumbest donkey on the planet. Not that I meant to eavesdrop or anything because I'd never do that but fucking hell, does he really have no filter? I've never been more inclined to use my fists and punch the light into someone as much as I want to do it to that dude. He deserves it, I think."

You crack a smile at his ramblings. God, it's endearing when he goes off tangent. Especially when you can see that he's trying his best to stop you from crying — he's doing a phenomenal job because you've been reduced to irregular sniffling.

"I'm sorry that you didn't get to finish what you were saying about how Shakespeare should be treated in modern society." You refer to your earlier conversation before everything had blown bigger than you could contain it.

"y/n," he sighs out your name. "I honestly don't give a flying shit about that right now. Your ex-said some really rude things and I hope you know it's not true."

"I know. I don't even know why I'm crying, I guess I'm just frustrated because I should have known he wasn't the smartest or the loveliest. God, how could I have been so blind?"

Jae shakes his head slightly, releasing your cheek and instead grabbing your elbows to keep up grounded. "What's done is done, so it doesn't matter but I just couldn't stand to listen to him degrade you like that. You're an amazing person y/n."

"Thank you," you say and you mean it. "I probably would have gone and cried myself to sleep if it wasn't for you."

Truthfully, you think you still will. At this point, you want to rush to your bed and collapse into a deep sleep for at least ten years. Like you've said again and again; you're not devastated. But you're so tired. Tired of it all.

"Or you could show me that French TV show you like. I wouldn't mind staying up with you and watching it if it means that you won't cry yourself to sleep... obviously, don't do this if you don't want to. I mean, I wouldn't hold it against you. Your stupid ex just came in and ruined your night, I don't want to impose on you and make you uncomfortable or anything like that because uh, you know that would suck. So—"

Watching him ramble on, you imagine the gears in his turning. On one hand, you could take his proposition as a move on a very vulnerable person but on the other you can take it as someone, a very nice someone that your body and mind seem to be keen on keeping around longer than you want, trying to console you. And you don't know why, but you think it wouldn't be a bad idea to allow him to do that.

"It's okay. You can come in," you cut him short as you step aside and push your open door wider, flashing him a watery smile. "I'm not exactly sure if you'd enjoy Piégé though. Loads of drama."

His eyes flicker between your face and then the floor, you believe he didn't quite expect you to accept his offer. But then he shoots you a slow smile in response. "Good thing I love drama then."

It is because it turns out that Jaebum loves Piégé more than you. Gradually but surely, it becomes somewhat of a ritual for the two of you to go for a run (something that you definitely got better at) and come back home to your apartment and watch the newest episode together. Something you never thought would be happening when you first met him.

You don't know when exactly the switch came but it did — slowly. You couldn't really deny the sexual attraction brewing between the two of you, not you wanted to, but this time you didn't want to build a relationship only on the physical. This time you wanted to actually know the person you were becoming accustomed to. And although we, as humans, can never know all there is to know about another person because we do not even know all about ourselves, you at least want to try. Especially since he lets you do it.

Finding out that Ara becomes way less irritable when Jae is around is a golden opportunity that you don't miss, and hence use it to keep him at your apartment longer because screw it, you feel something with him.

So, it comes as no surprise to you when he texts you in the middle of your workday — three weeks later — telling you that he has successfully binge-watched the first four seasons of Piégé in two days and he finally was up to date on the happenings of Alphonsine Vernoux and her love, Jean-Louis, so by association, you were finally able to gush and rave about the newest additions along with him and god, that was a good feeling.

It's not the same kind of feeling you had with Theo or Seongwon or any of your exes. This is different. It's calm. Being with Jae is calm and relaxing. It's more of a slight-tingle-that-washes-all-over-your-body-until-you-can't-think-straight kind of feeling. It's not explosive or counterproductive and it doesn't make you want to tear your hair out by just thinking of it. Instead, it makes you want to flow with the waves and enjoy the seasons because you know no matter what, you feel warm.

He makes you feel warm. When he remembers that your favorite time of the year is Halloween and hence helps you prepare two months in advance so the two of you can coordinate costumes for Youngjae's annual Halloween party. When he listens to you rant on and on about how much you hate René for making some otherwise snarky comment about your love life and when he rejoiced with you when she finally! packed her bags and moved five states over to marry the dude you hope will last with her for a long time because you know nobody else on this goddamn planet will.

When you introduce him to your rather small friend group and he makes it a sole duty to try and get in their good graces, which to be honest wasn't hard. He makes you feel warm when you listen to him talk about his dreams and his hopes or when he listens to you talk about the new things your attention has latched onto.

He makes you feel proud whenever you stop by his pizzeria and watch him handle his business in a cool, organized fashion. Most times trying to impress you and most times you leave there fully impressed. You listen to him talk about how much his dream of wanting to write and get something — anything, published. His parents had been against it. But then you encourage him to do it because fuck, life is too short to not do the things you love. And you can tell he loves it; in the way, his eyes light up every time you ask him about it.

"It's all about the moments," you tell him as you pretend to not see the corny grin lacing his lips as you do so.

He pushes you over the edge when he challenges you to do the things you're too afraid to. You never admit your fears but somehow, he knows them and proceeds to drag you out of your shell. You would say you hate it, but not really. You hate how he knows you like the back of his hand. You're not sure how you feel whenever his arms wrap around you at night and pull you closer to him, filling your emptiness with something more.

There's so much to be said about the way he holds you. Like you were made for him. He tells you he believes "loving one person for a long time is enough." And as the days add up to weeks that add up to months, you begin to believe them too. Being with him makes you believe in the corny quotes ripped off the internet that your step-mother has ingrained into you. It makes you wish you'd believed in them sooner.

He makes you feel content with everything every time his lips come in contact with your skin. It wraps you whole and makes you want to choke out "I love you," again and again until he believes it and burns it in his mind because it's true. When he doubts whether he is enough for you because he believes you're too good for him, you want to scream it aloud at him. Oh, how you want to but, you're scared. It's been months — eight to be exact — and you're not particularly sure if it's enough time for him to believe your words.

But after several weeks of trying to get Jaebum out of this stalemate that he's in, of him thinking that you deserve better than him when really all you ever want is him, you decide that you've had enough.

You corner him after work. A few hours after you've already gone back to your apartment to grab Ara for her nightly jog, you'll be damned if you allow her only to sit on her ass and eat all day, and left her to fall asleep soundly in the living room.

He's wrapping up the last things left to do at his store — telling one of his workers, a girl named Haru, to leave for the night and that he'll close up — when you find him. Instead of walking in like you'd usually do, you wait outside.

You're nervous. More nervous than you've ever been in your entire life. You've known for quite some time now that you love Im Jaebum. You love him so much that it seems almost stupid to not let him know. You know he loves you back, if not for the fact that the two of you have been dating for the past eight — almost nine — months, his little nickname for you "my love," was enough to tip you off. And at this point, you don't care. You just want to let it all out.

When he comes out of his store, wrapping a scarf tightly around his neck, you think to yourself: this is it. Looping your arm through his, you watch as an affectionate smile automatically slips onto his face. God, this is so incredibly corny but you feel your stomach do flips.

"How was your day?" He asks you first, maybe because he can tell how nervous you are. "Anything happen?"

You shake your head. "Not really. I did pitch in this really good idea though and my boss actually liked it. I thought I would cry."

"Bet you did," he chuckles out, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"Did not. I would never cry in front of that woman. She'd probably fire my ass because of 'disruption or negligence of duties.'"

Jae snorts at that but doesn't say anything in response. Instead, his fingers rub slow circles on your shoulders and you think maybe he knows something is up with you. You know it's not that big of a deal, truly. You've told him how much you love him by your actions every day since the day the two of you got together but it still feels oddly different trying to get the words out because you feel like they'll come out wrong.

It's not till you reach the big coffeehouse, the one Jae adores, that he finally stops to ask you:

"Babe, what's wrong?"

And before you can stop yourself or even think through your next actions, you throw your arms around his neck and flush your lips against his. For a moment, he's stunned into stupidity but soon enough he's clasping one of his hands around your back and threading the other one through your hair and you're sighing into you him. "I love you." He laughs into your neck because it's so obvious.

"I know."

"No, no," he doesn't. Not in the way you're trying to say it. You break away, dazed. "I love you. I love you no matter what. I love your stupid bets to get me out of bed in the evening to go running with you, I love your writings and the little post-it notes you have stuck everywhere in my apartment. I love how you don't make me feel weak for crying when I get so frustrated, I love you for attempting to sing a lullaby for my niece that one time but instead made her cry the whole night.

"I love you for always knowing what you want to do but never trying to force it on me. You don't understand, Jae. I love you. And I hate that you think I deserve someone else because you're the best possible thing that's happened to me. You're my best moment and fuck, I hate seeing you doubt yourself so much and—"

"I know," he says again and this time you think, he really does. "I know and you don't have to force yourself to say it when you're not ready. I know you love me and I'm sorry for making you think that I didn't believe in it otherwise."

Without much words, he laces his fingers through yours and rests his forehead against your own. You think you finally understand why your step-mother went/goes through so much trouble to remind you that the moments you make in life are beyond important. They make you. They teach you about love. Not the love you thought you had or knew about but real love. The kind that fills you up and makes you a better person. The kind of love that's just waiting to consume you.

With his breath fanning against your skin, you feel everything at once. The connection you have with Jaebum, the guy that you were blessed to have as a neighbor. You suppose you should be thanking Ara for the two of you being where you are today. But then again if fate really wanted the two of you together, it would have happened with or without Ara's help anyway.

You can hear your heart pounding ridiculously loud but you take a deep breath and say it again.

"I love you."

And this time he doesn't say he knows, he says it back. "I love you too, y/n."

You wonder what passersby are thinking about the two of you. Two grown adults professing their love for each other on the street like they've run mad.

He raises his head and looks at you, eyes so intense and burning, like he'd been waiting for you to say it in this way. Not in a rush to get all the words out because you and he have all the time in the world, but slow and understandable. You squeeze his hand tighter.

Regardless of the moments that led up to the two of you being here together and the circumstances that surrounded it, you're thankful. So, fucking thankful, because it means more to you than you'd ever thought possible.

"So, I was thinking," Jae's lips tilt up after several moments. "Do you want to move in?"

A/N: hey! it would be super cool if people gave me feedback on this :) i hope you liked it! thanks so much for reading !!

⇢ masterlist

©️ 2017 kai, moonbelt [aka high-on-food]

[obfuscobble]

Monsoon as Arhat: a Reconciliation of Metal Gear Rising with Theravada Buddhism

[The following essay is in no way a replacement for proper study of Buddhist teachings.  I do not intend to offend any Buddhist practicioners and experts.  All discussions are within the fictional context of Metal Gear Rising.]

Theravada Buddhism is the dominant religion in Cambodia, accounting for 95% of the population's stated religious affiliation.  It is the oldest form of Buddhism, based around study of the Buddha's teachings as collected in the Tipitaka canon, with no influence from esotericism or ritual-focused Mahayana flavours.  Although commentators often analyse Monsoon as emblematic of Atheistic Nihilism, I contend that his world-view as espoused in his speech is a legitimate expression of many Buddhist teachings.  I further posit that in light of the Theravada focus on personal enlightenment combining with Monsoon's actions in Revengeance and the Jetstream Sam DLC, Monsoon has in fact achieved nirvana.  In each following paragraph, I will compare an extremely simplified Buddhist teaching with its expression in Monsoon's character to illuminate my theses.

Central to all Buddhist belief is that humans, in fact all life, is caught in a cycle of suffering.  That which perpetuates suffering is desire.  Humans desire things and relationships in this world, and long for their goodness and permanence, whereas the reality of the universe is that all things are impermanent, amoral, and without deeper meaning.  Humans are bound to continue our suffering through repeating fetters of defilements that are passed down through human culture.  Throughout his speech, Monsoon highlights both his experience of suffering, the essential human defilement, and knowledge of its transmission.  He frames the defilement as "this world, and all of its people, are diseased."  The repetition of suffering is explained through "memes," which he accurately describes as pieces of cultural information which are passed on through words and experience.  He also translates the effects of karma on others using memes.  "Expose someone to anger long enough, they will learn to hate.  They become a carrier."  One's bad karma does not just affect their own life, but adds suffering to the lives of others.  This is one way to look at the difference in cause and effect between the hetu and pacca causalities.

"Envy, greed, despair: all memes, all passed on."  I find this to be a good summary of the fetters of suffering.  Through envy, we suffer by desiring what we do not have.  Through greed, we suffer by desiring more of what we value.  Through despair, we suffer by recognising that we do not have what we desire.  Yet the cycle of samsara ensures that all living beings will be trapped by their memes, infecting each other through culture and unrighteous action.  "Sure as the sun will rise, the slaughter will continue."  It is only by noticing, categorising, and then denying our own memes that we may move beyond the desires they teach us.  

Life and the world as we experience it are "distorted" in Theravada terminology, as opposed to the more familiar Mahayana term of "illusion," yet the underlying truth remains the same: we must see through the distortions that our experience feeds to us.  We only cling to the defilements that fetter us to suffering out of ignorance, called avidya, since that ignorance shields us from noticing our own defilement and gives us an excuse to perpetuate suffering.  Theravada thought begins by discarding avidya ignorance.  By breaking its illusion, we are better able to see our place in the perpetuation of suffering and rebirth, and to realise that we ourselves have no self.  Monsoon speaks to Raiden about the man's own small journey in realisation: "How easily you ignore the loss of life when it suits your convenience. ... Sam tells me you see your weapon as a tool: something that saves lives, a means of justice. Now, there's a pretty meme! Exquisite! It spared you the burden of all the lives you've taken, absolved you of guilt when you enjoyed it.  That is, until the illusion was broken."  Here we see a classic illustration of clinging to a state of ignorance as a defence, craving the transient pleasures that come with an ignorant life, and then the most important rending of the veil of illusion.  Monsoon further states multiple times that the sad state of the world and people's actions within it are nothing to agonise over, since they are only "nature running its course."  Rather, his emphasis on nature leads one to think of surpassing nature's cruelty while living in it.

Change and impermanence is an essential aspect of nature.  In Theravada teaching, one cannot seek to change the entire world, but must instead change one's "self" or way of thinking so that one can change along with nature.  Nature itself is neither good nor evil, and assigning the moral concepts of "good" and "evil" to natural occurrences is the result of desire.  We crave that which is good or pleasing, and in desire and in liking we only create suffering through our yearning for that which is preferred.  Monsoon famously reiterates that "Wind blows, rain falls, and the strong prey upon the weak."  Yet he does so without regret or anger at nature itself.  Earlier in the game's storyline, within the Jetstream Sam DLC, Monsoon laughs at Armstrong's distaste for supposedly effeminate cherry blossoms then asks, "Is it really so horrible?  They're only trees. ... Nature is just nature.  Not beautiful, not ugly.  The wind blows.  The flowers float away.  It's simply how things are."  Here we have a good encapsulation of both Buddhist teachings about nature's impermanence and amorality, as framed through the traditional Japanese motif of the cherry blossom.  This would even be a cliché pointer to those teachings for the Japanese audience.

There is no self or soul within Theravada and Buddhism in general, which is the basis of the teaching of anatta or non-self.  Five aspects comprise each living being: the physical form, its feelings and sensations, perception of senses, ideas, and consciousness.  Each of these will change, and none has an underlying meaning, cause, or will.  To advance past our suffering, we must conceive of ourselves not actually being a singular self, but rather this conglomerate of polymorphous factors.  If we lack a soul, and all that comprises our selves lacks will and meaning, then naturally "Free will is a myth."  However, to be fair to Buddhist teachings, Buddha also rejected the thought that all action is pre-determined as well as the theory of free will being non-extant; he taught that it is human choice to follow the Eight-Fold Path which frees one.  In context with the time, he was teaching in opposition to the Divine Determinism of his contemporary Makkhaligosala, and also the contemporary cults that viewed a lack of free will as an excuse for freely immoral behaviour.  If we view Monsoon's discourse within the context of inter-faith dialogue, he may be explicitly opposing the Christian dogma of free will.  Additionally, Monsoon may be using the concept of free will as a myth, but not a lack of human choice, as a metaphor for the lack of a self.

On a basic level, Buddhism does not require belief in a concept of God as found in the Abrahamic religions.  Mahayana Buddhism often features gods as influenced by local pre-Buddhist polytheism in the countries which adopted it, but pure Theravada lacks even the conception of a tripartite Buddha.  In further contrast to Mahayana, Theravada lacks many rituals and does not place focus on completing arbitrary rituals for attaining enlightenment.  It instead focuses on learning, logical meditation on what one has learned, then meditation in attainment of freedom from attachment.  Thus, "Religion is a joke."

There is no god.  There is no soul.  There is no self.  Life is a cycle of suffering caused by desire.  There is no true cause for morality.  Nature is ephemeral and to seek stability in it or judge it is to invite suffering.  Monsoon realises and teaches these basic precepts.  He seems keenly aware of basic Buddhist teachings, probably due to his Cambodian cultural background.  He has rephrased these ideas through the framing device and transmission method of "memes."  None of these concepts disturb him, rather he seems freed by his knowledge.  He passes on the teachings to Raiden, passing on the only memes that will potentially free Raiden from his own cycle of destruction.  The only moment of displeasure that Monsoon expresses is after Raiden fully embraces Jack the Ripper: Monsoon turns his head away, frowns, and says in a tone of disappointment or mourning "You've lost your mind."  Obviously, Raiden has failed to fully understand Monsoon's message despite coming so close that Monsoon tried the whole we're not so different you and I tactic.  But what does it mean that Monsoon, a man ripped from his former life and reformatted as something human in aggregate shape only, maintains an aura of peace and contentment while speaking of an amoral universe?

I posit that Monsoon has actually already reached enlightenment.

He doesn't give a shit any more about worldly attachments.  He's still alive because Desperado's body is keeping his brain alive, so he's trolling.  Monsoon avoids death by perfect dodging, but shows no attachment to his own mortal life once it's ending.  Upon defeat he says "Now, I return to the earth," a reflection of his battle dialogue which exhorts Raiden to do the same.  Monsoon finds joy in just existing.  He notices the click of his body after he lands in the most extra way possible, he points out the changing world and wills around him, he performs the duties Desperado requires of him without judgement, and he fights with neither fear nor blood-lust.  He doesn't desire his faraway homeland or lost criminal empire.  He doesn't mourn his meat body.  He abstains from swearing (rare in MGR) while speaking meaningfully and politely.  He does not engage with any luxuries, and doesn't even wear clothes.  He acts without lust, hatred, or delusion.

In fact, the only traditional hindrance to the Buddhist conception of right thought and right action that he displays is killing and ordering others to kill.  Which is a biggie, to be sure.  What causes this discrepancy?  Well, MGR is a fighting game for one.  Perhaps Monsoon views killing as an unavoidable part of the job he and everyone around him share, where death is constant and impartial.

As an aside, in Theravada thought, each person reaches enlightenment on their own, with no inherent duty to bring others with them.  So Monsoon really doesn't have to try to teach Raiden about any of the memes which point to enlightenment, but he does anyway.  And he also doesn't have to avoid being a sassy shit while doing so.

Thus, I conclude that Monsoon's speech is a courier and translation for Buddhist thought, and that Monsoon may well be an atman, an enlightened person.  Whether Monsoon is cognisant or appreciative of Buddhist influence on his statements is immaterial to the application of comparative analysis between them.  In the case that Monsoon is indeed a true blue non-religious atheist, it seems in keeping with his character that recognising Buddhist influences in is thought wouldn't disturb him, as those are the memes that shaped his culture's existential discourse.  It may even be possible that he has entered a state of non-attachment removed from traditional Theravada thought form and practice, as a result of living a hard-knock life, then losing it all, then experiencing in a very corporeal manner a teaching that the self is multiplicity and non-extant.  Thank you for reading and I hope to have prompted polite discourse on the theory of Monsoon as atman.

"Wind blows, rain falls, and the strong prey upon the weak.  All is as it should be."

[jimmymas]

Avoiding the Trap of Exploitation

Of the many transitions that occur in a ministry leader’s life, handling the changes that come when their function changes over time could perhaps be the most challenging.  At her core, the Church is to be salt and light to the world, which inevitably means that she by nature is a transformation organism. However the Church’s ability gets hampered when she lends herself to model the present culture instead of transform it! If our goal in leadership is to help advancing generations with the mantle of transformational leadership then our standard should be to avoid repeating or even encouraging debilitating cultural weaknesses.  One of the toughest transitions to overcome is in the area of relationships. Relationships change over time and especially in the arena of ministry. How those relationships change is a topic worth addressing because sadly, there are many ministry leaders among us who perhaps languish in relationship transitions that have left their mark.

When it comes to ministerial relationships it would be helpful to strengthen existing relationships by not using the current cycle of self-absorption so prevalent in our culture. That means we need to avoid the trap of exploitation: which is the tendency to only stay connected with people as long as they function “for us” or our need, or stay useful to that end!

Genesis 40:9-15, 20-23 9 So the chief cupbearer told Joseph his dream. He said to him, “In my dream I saw a vine in front of me, 10 and on the vine were three branches. As soon as it budded, it blossomed, and its clusters ripened into grapes. 11 Pharaoh’s cup was in my hand, and I took the grapes, squeezed them into Pharaoh’s cup and put the cup in his hand.” 12 “This is what it means,” Joseph said to him. “The three branches are three days. 13 Within three days Pharaoh will lift up your head and restore you to your position, and you will put Pharaoh’s cup in his hand, just as you used to do when you were his cupbearer. 14 But when all goes well with you, remember me and show me kindness; mention me to Pharaoh and get me out of this prison. 15 I was forcibly carried off from the land of the Hebrews, and even here I have done nothing to deserve being put in a dungeon”…20 Now the third day was Pharaoh’s birthday, and he gave a feast for all his officials. He lifted up the heads of the chief cupbearer and the chief baker in the presence of his officials: 21 He restored the chief cupbearer to his position, so that he once again put the cup into Pharaoh’s hand— 22 but he impaled the chief baker, just as Joseph had said to them in his interpretation. 23 The chief cupbearer, however, did not remember Joseph; he forgot him. (NIV)

                           Exemplifying Value over Self-Service

There are challenges when it comes to maintaining relationships that have changed because of differing functions. There is a virtual wasteland of friendships scarred by forgetfulness but even worse by exploitation. They were used when someone thought they were useful for their own needs and then sadly, forgotten. Ministry relationships transition in life through differing functions that grow with need or simply morph into a new era of usefulness. We can avoid exploiting our friends especially those we once deemed useful, by exemplifying value over self-service. This allows everyone to grow into their new season with grace rather than being forced to maintain a relationship based on a past function. Joseph’s life turned out okay through the grace of God—but not without its share of disappointments and heartaches.

No one would ever argue the point that Joseph’s experience placed him in the perfect situation for the perfect need in the arena of the perfect crisis—and that he was the perfect man for the job!  But unfortunately – we inadvertently take no account of his real humanity!  JOSEPH WAS FORGOTTEN AFTER HE SERVED A FRIEND’S NEED. In fact you could argue that Joseph was simply forgotten by those he served, something that happens all too often in the world of modernistic exploitation or self-service. Help for him was always a carefully placed memory away! He just needed to be important enough in the cupbearer’s heart (gratitude) to stay on top of his mind. Two full years would pass before he would be remembered again. For many, that delay may be a killer of hope.

Genesis 41:1-2, 9-15 When two full years had passed, Pharaoh had a dream: He was standing by the Nile, 2 when out of the river there came up seven cows, sleek and fat…9 Then the chief cupbearer said to Pharaoh, “Today I am reminded of my shortcomings... 14 So Pharaoh sent for Joseph, and he was quickly brought from the dungeon. When he had shaved and changed his clothes, he came before Pharaoh. 15 Pharaoh said to Joseph, “I had a dream, and no one can interpret it. But I have heard it said of you that when you hear a dream you can interpret it.”  (NIV)

 Exemplifying Value over Self-Service Requires Some Understanding

What we pass on to succeeding generations called to pick up the mantle of ministerial leadership requires that we model a better culture of honor and respect. Ministry (no matter what we say to the contrary) is performance–based, which for better or worse opens the door to a range of conflicting feelings.

·       The dueling feelings of great success and even larger defeat

·       The dueling thoughts of inadequacy and giftedness

·       Being highly used and subsequently shelved

To add insult to injury—all of these come more often than not, on the heels of silence – where changes have occurred without announcement from friends. Nothing is ever said but the temperature in the relationship has changed drastically. Silence is the ultimate cancer eating away at whatever feelings of validation still existed for those who previously served in a vital way. To say that we are not validated by our ability to perform is to underestimate the power the lack of validation has as a weapon in Satan’s arsenal! Our enemy uses this lack of validation as a precision scalpel to cut the ministry life out of our “friends!” How can we challenge that mentality? We can start by avoiding the trap that leads to exploiting others. Exploitation is basically a self-centered usefulness paradigm, which speaks, “I can use you for my benefit!”

Adapting to Seasonal Changes really does Require an Openness on ALL Sides!

Your ministry does need to adapt to function in strength as you “age” but it also requires the respect of others who still see the value you bring to the table. I often share the metaphor (bear with me!) about my baseball playing days. I was always a middle infielder by position meaning that my comfort zone was as a shortstop but I could also transition to second base. Those who understand that position understand that you had better have some range since it’s a lot of territory to cover defensively. When I played softball regularly as an adult I usually stayed in the same areas of play. However, a couple of years back when I was playing with a younger and more agile group of players it became evident that my function needed to change. I still could contribute and still had a needed skill to compliment a team but my position or contribution needed to change. I could fake my old position but a grounder to my right would immediately let everyone in on the secret!! That is what happens when Kingdom position players who have been used to contribute for years and years into ministries that blossomed with their wisdom, at times feel trapped to continue in the same role lest they be forgotten. When they cannot deliver at the level of expectation – they are shelved! It’s a culture all too familiar to many in ministry service because sadly, some of those who suffer now had sown the same mentality in the past. We often preach about “anointing breaking the yoke” but so often in our present culture, may be trapped to believe anointing can only come in the new, shiny package that makes the waves. So how can I contribute less to exploitation and create a substantive respect for changes that occur in the function of others and even us?  Here are some things that every principle leader who fully expects to encourage a new generation of leadership should understand.

Recognizing that the Kingdom Mutually Exposes both Seed and Sower to Enormous Potential! That means that while what a ministry gift “sows” as a result of their ministry is valuable, the actual “sower” or minister also gets recompensed in potential because they are valuable. Relationships should mature and strengthen when there is shared value.

If Ministry has Been Fruitful in the past—then the “Tree” Still Exists! Many times the voice of such is a useful tool not only for those in your congregation but also for yourself. Maturity through experience (both suffering and exploits) when enjoyed pays rich dividends. Every leader must model to a new generation, a respect for voices whose gifts still possess value!

Avoid the Disillusionment of a Friend’s Forgotten Assignment or Value. Be diligent to let your yes be yes and no - no. Keep your promises and lean not on frivolous superficial promises. Do not “use” brethren for your own needs. What you ask for – you must be willing to do in return. And—STOP making verbal or written promises you do not intend to fulfill. It’s bad modeling for future generations, it’s bad for the Kingdom and the Church, and it’s bad for relationships!

Relationships Cannot Breathe without the Oxygen of Honesty and Communication. Superficiality though culturally accepted, is cancerous to friendship.

It’s good to remember that our next generation, which is currently being developed, will ultimately follow our example—not our principles.

[meganrosereads-blog]

2018 New Releases

I love finding new releases. There’s something just so satisfying (and smug) about being one of the first to read an amazing book before everyone else. I often like to trawl the web and find out about the new books and debuts that pique my interest and note them down, because who doesn’t love a good list right???

So here are the first 10 books to be released in 2018 that I have my eye on.

Glass Town by Steven Savile - UK release 13 January 2018 (Fantasy) - St Martin’s Press

“ In 1926, two brothers both loved Eleanor Raines, a promising young actress from the East End of London. But, along with Seth Lockwood, she disappeared, never to be seen again. Isaiah, Seth’s younger brother, refused to accept that she was just gone. It has been seventy years since and the brothers are long dead. But now their dark, twisted secret, threatens to tear the city apart. Seth made a bargain with Damiola, an illusionist, to make a life size version of his most famous trick, and hide away part of London to act as a prison out of sync with our time, where one year passes as one hundred. That illusion is Glass Town. And now its walls are failing. Reminiscent of Clive Barker’s Weaveworld and Neil Gaiman’s American Gods, Savile brings out the magic in the everyday. Glass Town is full of gritty urban landscapes, realistic characters, conflict, secrets, betrayals, magic, and mystery.”

Swan Song by Kerry Andrew - UK release 25 January 2018 (Literary Fiction) - Jonathan Cape

“ In this stunningly assured, immersive and vividly atmospheric first novel, a young woman comes face-to-face with the volatile, haunted wilderness of the Scottish Highlands. Polly Vaughan is trying to escape the ravaging guilt of a disturbing incident in London by heading north to the Scottish Highlands. As soon as she arrives, this spirited, funny, alert young woman goes looking for drink, drugs and sex – finding them all quickly, and unsatisfactorily, with the barman in the only pub. She also finds a fresh kind of fear, alone in this eerie, myth-drenched landscape. Increasingly prone to visions or visitations – floating white shapes in the waters of the loch or in the woods – she is terrified and fascinated by a man she came across in the forest on her first evening, apparently tearing apart a bird. Who is this strange loner? And what is his sinister secret? Kerry Andrew is a fresh new voice in British fiction; one that comes from a deep understanding of the folk songs, mythologies and oral traditions of these islands. Her powerful metaphoric language gives Swansong a charged, hallucinatory quality that is unique, uncanny and deeply disquieting,”

The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock by Imogen Hermes Gowar - UK release 25 January 2018 (Historical Fiction/Magical Realism) - Harvill Secker

“One September evening in 1785, the merchant Jonah Hancock hears urgent knocking on his front door. One of his captains is waiting eagerly on the step. He has sold Jonah’s ship for what appears to be a mermaid. As gossip spreads through the docks, coffee shops, parlours and brothels, everyone wants to see Mr Hancock’s marvel. Its arrival spins him out of his ordinary existence and through the doors of high society. At an opulent party, he makes the acquaintance of Angelica Neal, the most desirable woman he has ever laid eyes on… and a courtesan of great accomplishment. This meeting will steer both their lives onto a dangerous new course, on which they will learn that priceless things come at the greatest cost. Where will their ambitions lead? And will they be able to escape the destructive power mermaids are said to possess? In this spell-binding story of curiosity and obsession, Imogen Hermes Gowar has created an unforgettable jewel of a novel, filled to the brim with intelligence, heart and wit.”

The Wicked Cometh by Laura Carlin - UK release 1 February 2018 (Historical Fiction) - Hodder & Stoughton

“ The year is 1831 Down the murky alleyways of London, acts of unspeakable wickedness are taking place and no one is willing to speak out on behalf of the city’s vulnerable poor as they disappear from the streets. Out of these shadows comes Hester White, a bright young woman who is desperate to escape the slums by any means possible. When Hester is thrust into the world of the aristocratic Brock family, she leaps at the chance to improve her station in life under the tutelage of the fiercely intelligent and mysterious Rebekah Brock. But whispers from her past slowly begin to poison her new life and both she and Rebekah are lured into the most sinister of investigations. Hester and Rebekah find themselves crossing every boundary they’ve ever known in pursuit of truth, redemption and passion. But their trust in each other will be tested as a web of deceit begins to unspool, dragging them into the blackest heart of a city where something more depraved than either of them could ever imagine is lurking … “

The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton - UK release 8 February 2018 (Mystery) - Raven Books

“A brilliantly original high concept murder mystery from a fantastic new talent: Gosford Park meets Inception, by way of Agatha Christie ‘Somebody’s going to be murdered at the ball tonight. It won’t appear to be a murder and so the murderer won’t be caught. Rectify that injustice and I’ll show you the way out.’ It is meant to be a celebration but it ends in tragedy. As fireworks explode overhead, Evelyn Hardcastle, the young and beautiful daughter of the house, is killed. But Evelyn will not die just once. Until Aiden – one of the guests summoned to Blackheath for the party – can solve her murder, the day will repeat itself, over and over again. Every time ending with the fateful pistol shot. The only way to break this cycle is to identify the killer. But each time the day begins again, Aiden wakes in the body of a different guest. And someone is determined to prevent him ever escaping Blackheath…”

The Coffin Path by Katherine Clements - UK release 8 February 2018 (Gothic/Horror) - Headline Review 

“ The Coffin Path by Katherine Clements is an eerie and compelling seventeenth-century ghost story set on the dark wilds of the Yorkshire moors. For fans of Michelle Paver and Sarah Waters, this gothic tale will weave its way into your imagination and chill you to the bone. ‘The vibrant new voice of historical fiction’ - Suzannah Dunn. Mercy Booth has lived at Scarcross, the old hall just off the coffin path, for all her life. The moors and the house are in her blood - and her soul. Ellis Ferreby is a mysterious, unpredictable outsider who arrives there unexpectedly and finds himself increasingly drawn into her world. But the house holds a tainted history. And the moor top hides something far darker…”

The Sealwoman’s Gift by Sally Magnusson - UK release 8 February 2018 (Historical Fiction) - Two Roads

“ In 1627 Barbary pirates raided the coast of Iceland and abducted some 400 of its people, including 250 from a tiny island off the mainland. Among the captives sold into slavery in Algiers were the island pastor, his wife and their three children. Although the raid itself is well documented, little is known about what happened to the women and children afterwards. It was a time when women everywhere were largely silent. In this brilliant reimagining, Sally Magnusson gives a voice to Ásta, the pastor’s wife. Enslaved in an alien Arab culture Ásta meets the loss of both her freedom and her children with the one thing she has brought from home: the stories in her head. Steeped in the sagas and folk tales of her northern homeland, she finds herself experiencing not just the separations and agonies of captivity, but the reassessments that come in any age when intelligent eyes are opened to other lives, other cultures and other kinds of loving. The Sealwoman’s Gift is about the eternal power of storytelling to help us survive. The novel is full of stories - Icelandic ones told to fend off a slave-owner’s advances, Arabian ones to help an old man die. And there are others, too: the stories we tell ourselves to protect our minds from what cannot otherwise be borne, the stories we need to make us happy.”

Folk by Zoe Gilbert - UK release 8 February 2018 (Fantasy/Literary Fiction) - Bloomsbury

“ Every year they gather, while the girls shoot their arrows and the boys hunt them out. The air is riddled with spiteful shadows - the wounds and fears and furies of a village year. On a remote and unforgiving island lies a village unlike any other: Neverness. A girl is snatched by a water bull and dragged to its lair, a babe is born with a wing for an arm and children ask their fortunes of an oracle ox. While the villagers live out their own tales, enchantment always lurks, blighting and blessing in equal measure. Folk is a dark and sinuous debut circling the lives of one generation. In this world far from our time and place, the stories of the islanders interweave and overlap, their own folklore twisting fates and changing lives. A captivating, magical and haunting debut novel of breathtaking imagination, from the winner of the 2014 Costa Short Story Award.”

The Toymakers by Robert Dinsdale - UK release 8 February 2018 (Fantasy/Historical Fiction) - Del Rey

“Do you remember when you believed in magic? The Emporium opens with the first frost of winter. It is the same every year. Across the city, when children wake to see ferns of white stretched across their windows, or walk to school to hear ice crackling underfoot, the whispers begin: the Emporium is open! It is 1917, and London has spent years in the shadow of the First World War. In the heart of Mayfair, though, there is a place of hope. A place where children’s dreams can come true, where the impossible becomes possible – that place is Papa Jack’s Toy Emporium. For years Papa Jack has created and sold his famous magical toys: hobby horses, patchwork dogs and bears that seem alive, toy boxes bigger on the inside than out, ‘instant trees’ that sprout from boxes, tin soldiers that can fight battles on their own. Now his sons, Kaspar and Emil, are just old enough to join the family trade. Into this family comes a young Cathy Wray – homeless and vulnerable. The Emporium takes her in, makes her one of its own. But Cathy is about to discover that while all toy shops are places of wonder, only one is truly magical… “

The Philosopher’s Flight by Tom Miller - UK release 13 February 2018 (Fantasy) - Simon & Schuster

“ A thrilling debut from ER doctor turned novelist Tom Miller, The Philosopher’s Flight is an epic historical fantasy set in a World-War-I-era America where magic and science have blended into a single extraordinary art. “Like his characters, Tom Miller casts a spell.” (Matthew Pearl, author of The Dante Club and The Last Bookaneer) Eighteen-year-old Robert Weekes is a practitioner of empirical philosophy—an arcane, female-dominated branch of science used to summon the wind, shape clouds of smoke, heal the injured, and even fly. Though he dreams of fighting in the Great War as the first male in the elite US Sigilry Corps Rescue and Evacuation Service—a team of flying medics—Robert is resigned to mixing batches of philosophical chemicals and keeping the books for the family business in rural Montana, where his mother, a former soldier and vigilante, aids the locals. When a deadly accident puts his philosophical abilities to the test, Robert rises to the occasion and wins a scholarship to study at Radcliffe College, an all-women’s school. At Radcliffe, Robert hones his skills and strives to win the respect of his classmates, a host of formidable, unruly women. Robert falls hard for Danielle Hardin, a disillusioned young war hero turned political radical. However, Danielle’s activism and Robert’s recklessness attract the attention of the same fanatical anti-philosophical group that Robert’s mother fought years before. With their lives in mounting danger, Robert and Danielle band together with a team of unlikely heroes to fight for Robert’s place among the next generation of empirical philosophers—and for philosophy’s very survival against the men who would destroy it. In the tradition of Lev Grossman and Deborah Harkness, Tom Miller writes with unrivaled imagination, ambition, and humor. The Philosopher’s Flight is both a fantastical reimagining of American history and a beautifully composed coming-of-age tale for anyone who has ever felt like an outsider.”

[ssimontis]

Chasing Amy

I had to get faded just to feel like I’m not hated Begging to be free but always motivated to flee The clock ticks and it makes me fucking sick The sand in the hourglass defining leased time Spent a quarter of my life dedicated to the flight Every fear in my mind makes me one of a kind Common forces define us getting caught up in the lust Fantasies I play back when I know things will go bust Love’s the metaphorical chain that keeps us all sane I severed all the links each time I continued to sink I’m in the sea dawg, but forgot a fishing rod Self hatred won’t define me all the things that I can be

The survivor mentality slowly turns into reality I see the light in the tunnel as my hopes fall through the funnel I want to dig into the passion that’s the latest trendy fashion If it feels good on the surface nothing bad can lurk below it

People chasing all desires lighting moral directions afire A generation so self-centered there’s no room for new mentors There’s got to be a greater good equipped to help me leave this hood A stronger sense of direction you can’t fight like an infection A universal truth that every molecule must sleuth I see people on the horizon that’ll keep my eyes on Knowing things will not be right when I further my old sight The first crisis averted, the fear first diverted Started feeling my flows getting out before the snow A hustler’s ambition minus all the shit with blow

Girl you’ll know it when I hustle you’ll feel it with every single muscle If you wait for my return it might be the prognosis you’re insane You’ve got to learn to trust me that there’s more than basic lust But first I need to find good fortune as every man should I don’t know if I can be patient enough to resist calling the bluffs If you think opposites attract there’s nothing that I lack You’ll know once you find this road how willing I can be to go If you follow in my footsteps that all you should need to know

The survivor mentality slowly turns into reality I see the light in the tunnel as my hopes fall through the funnel I want to dig into the passion that’s the latest trendy fashion If it feels good on the surface nothing bad can lurk below it

I’m done chasing the dragon with acute fascination You probably won’t believe since I’m known to deceive But if you take this gamble I know you will eventually believe I didn’t know you were my muse, you got me all confused We’ve got a situation I’m always willing to be facing I’m presently plotting our escape with all thoughts racing Like a nerd subscribed to Pewdie Pie, if you get the reference I defined Pop culture references the things that my mind somehow refines

It’s time to swoop in like a ninja, you never thought like this, did ya? By that look right now I’d bet your wits are terrified You never thought you’d reach this place, I read it in your gentle face I know I’m egotistical to the point that it seems mystical But when I see someone like you, you spark my life anew Let’s try and see this through, imagine all that we can do Things about to get primitive with no emotions to be limited I was worried for a while you’d perceive me how I used to be The demons in my head so palpable the whole world could read

The survivor mentality slowly turns into reality I see the light in the tunnel as my hopes fall through the funnel I want to dig into the passion that’s the latest trendy fashion If it feels good on the surface nothing bad can lurk below it

I spent the prime years so far in life in what I thought was the greatest fight To shield the way I feel so much you’d think my heart gtrew cold It still gives me chills, the things I used to call my thrills My darkest emotions life’s only source of locomotion I used to wear anger on my sleeve along the crooked path I’d leave Pretending there’s no human needs that’s the way I used to be Violence comes in many forms, physically, mentally, emotionally The latter two my favorite weapons since this dark chapters inception I ignored the fact my devotion to those closest rarely got that notion The music will go on, but some lives aren’t near that long The first time that I opened up it seemed like it was out of luck Sometimes the stars divine align, God above does give us signs The finest moments in my life about to be redefined But underneath the good I sought lie forces fate had uninvited

The way I saw relationships turned into the titanic ship I found that my infatuation was the force behind that notion The situations so obscene that kindness I could not believe The people close to me the means by which I was deceived Finally life gained some traction before my typical reaction Ego-driven self destruction wrapped in a constructor function Once I learned I was diseased this endless cycle I hoped to cease My notions of trust I soon found were bound to self-destruct People I could hold at bay building anxiety surely relayed Hoping not to be exposed, vulnerability no longer a possibility

The survivor mentality slowly turns into reality I see the light in the tunnel as my hopes fall through the funnel I want to dig into the passion that’s the latest trendy fashion If it feels good on the surface nothing bad can lurk below it

Circumstances unforeseen forced me to move to a new scene They say time heals all things for once I believed a new possibility A world in flux God did construct, something I could not destruct Powerlessness in this world a fact I now had to insist Motivation comes from distant places my mind erases Deeds focused on averting the crisis humankind now faces

I can see it in your eyes you might just give it a try Complicated situations hoping to avoid all altercations Can we go behind the scenes to avoid all these debris The greatest weight’s on you if you want to see this through I wish the forces in my mind could set the courses of our lives Geographical distance turns feelings into lackluster statistics But probabilities eventually are given possibilities We can’t escape our fates when God declares our time

The survivor mentality slowly turns into reality I see the light in the tunnel as my hopes fall through the funnel I want to dig into the passion that’s the latest trendy fashion If it feels good on the surface nothing bad can lurk below it

Once my brother Ross died, I no longer felt alive Everything I lived for flew right out the fucking door The fragility of all our lives I could never now ignore Lost in silent contemplation of futile hopes my mind does pour I did all the things I swore my philosophy made an impossibility I chased shallow validation my actions further complications All the rules I lived for now a demon my deeds further seeded Corruption brings complete destruction of the love that shines from above

I drove to his house that night not expecting all the flashing lights Red and blue, sirens wailing as my courage started trailing I thought I was tough enough to make a stand but the police made me land Falling in the lawn my tears continued until the next dawn My best friend had met his end that body bag brought down the stairs Wasn’t him his soul expired another chance at life he had desired Fear taking hold as we both turned blue, we both turned blue I could not accept in my distant heart his life on Earth was through A po tried to take my keys, he know what I was goin’ through The loss a complication to trust I could no longer view Things close to me destroyed time and time again It’s no wonder all this breaking down made my faith find more constrictive bounds I wanted to say it was me, the explanation valued simplicity But some things are beyond our wills let that take away your thrills Situations rise and fall in line extending to the ends of time Tempting us to render missing logic with thoughts bounding monotonic The universe has rules but defining them is for simple fools You have to play your hand as best as your mind quickly can The people in and out of motion slowly become the tools devoted To learning the game of instincts by which rationality sinks

The survivor mentality slowly turns into reality I see the light in the tunnel as my hopes fall through the funnel I want to dig into the passion that’s the latest trendy fashion If it feels good on the surface nothing bad can lurk below it

This generation is not okay give them something to take pain away Fuck this game where we all are frontin’ pretending all of life means nothin’ The vague moments that my mind persists all my experiences do consist Lessons I cannot resist not making the connection to later fascinations