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buffysummerslay · 3 years ago

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I have watched Lucifer series finale yesterday and I am still reeling from feelings, feelings I need to work through to be able to move on.

Unfortunately, I am late to the party and I have started watching Lucifer (despite the show being on my radar for a few years already) when season 6 came out, and this turned avoiding spoilers about the ending as well as the show itself into an extremely hard task. I have, of course, seen some reactions to the ending and it was obvious that the viewers were divided between "the ending was amazing, they really did the story and the characters justice" and "what the fuck was that". I always take these reactions, especially when they come instantly after the episode has ended, with a grain of salt because, realistically, I haven't been fully satisfied with the way a tv show has ended - any tv show - since, like, 2010. However, I also know that there is a difference between "okay, the ending was anticlimactic/disappointing/etc, however, it is the journey that matters and I am still pretty happy with the show" and HIMYM type of ending where you are like "I want this show wiped from my memory because the final hour has ruined the entire experience for me". So, I took some time to reflect on the events that took place, gather my thoughts, and make my peace with the ending. After doing that, I can comfortably say that I am not fully satisfied with the ending because of one very simple reason - I can make sense of the choices taken by the character at the very end of the show only if I use "Lucifer gave Rory his word" rationale, and not because I believe in the theory they provided or the choices they make. So here are some of my thoughts about the ending of this beloved show, including both the things I liked and disliked. Be warned, there are spoilers ahead so if you haven't seen the show, the final season or the series finale, please stop reading because you don't want to manifest spoilery energy into your life!

The main thing I have a problem with is the time loop. I will begin by saying that I really dislike time travel in general - I think that it is an overly used plot divice that more than often creates holes in the story instead of driving the narrative where it needs to go, unless the concept of time travel is integral to the show, like for example in Timeless and Fringe. However, in this case, I dislike that the major characters have made a major decision (a serious, impactful, life-altering decision) based on a flimsy theory. And since they have told us exactly what will happen in the end, we simply didn't know why and how, I have expected a more bulletproof reasoning instead of a rushed conversation wrapped up in five minutes and sealed by a promise. Lucifer leaves Chloe and Rory and goes back to hell, Rory grows up resenting him and she becomes so angry she travels through time to confront him only to end up being the reason for his departure, therefore creating an unbreakable time loop. She makes her parents give her their word that they won't change a thing in order to make sure that Lucifer discovers his true calling, which is helping souls in Hell break their hell loops and ascend to Heaven. And the reason I am so hesitant to accept this is because of two reasons:

1. Lucifer has made amazing progress through the show when it comes to his character development, finding his worth and making peace with his identity, and yet you are trying to tell me that this is the only way he would discover his true calling, especially now when he has a higher level of understanding himself than ever before? And especially since these thoughts and doubts have already been in his mind aka him postponing to become God long before Rory's arrival into their timeline!

2. The consequences of our actions are the results of the choices we make, not the other way around. And sometimes, different choices can lead to different outcomes and sometimes the array of choices we make lead to the same outcome. It is absolutely possible that if they broke the time loop and made different choices, that their actions would lead them to the same outcome aka Lucifer finding his calling while remaining in their lives. I think that it is fully possible for them to make a timeline B (the timeline that would have been created if they broke the time loop) based on the discoveries from the timeline A (their current timeline). There's no reason for me to believe otherwise.

Apart from the discovery of Lucifer's calling, the only thing that came out of the time loop was pain, suffering and probably a lot of loneliness. Even the good things that came out of the time loop (like Lucifer and Rory bonding) are a consequence of the pain that it caused. Of course, if they broke a time loop and created a completely new timeline, choices they would make there could theoretically end up having worse consequences on their lives. They could also be better, or they could be completely the same. The thing is, we don't know, we can only speculate and that is exactly what bothers me. The main characters made a major decision based on a speculation. I don't necessarily have a problem with the things that have happened, but rather with how they happened and how they were explained. Or better to say, how they weren't. I think that they should have completely dedicated the season to exploring this and reassuring us that this is the right choice to make and the right way to go.

Also, the concept of free will and making one's own choices has been pretty integral to the show. We have watched Lucifer struggle with the concept since the beginning of the show because he was convinced he is only a puppet in his father's grand plans. There were many events in the show reinforcing that belief, like Chloe being the gift from God. It took him seasons to accept that he chose to stay in her life, to be close to her, to be her partner in work as well as in life and in that acceptance he finally found the strength to tell her that he loves her. He chose her and she chose him. And while one can argue that leaving them and going back to hell was Lucifer's choice (since, technically, he could have chosen to break his word to his daughter and change things), it is one he didn't want to make. In the final episode he says that he desires to watch his daughter grow up and before he leaves for Hell he tells Chloe he doesn't want to leave her (she even responds that she doesn't want him to leave either, but that this is the choice that they are making for Rory's sake), making me feel like he is making this choice out of duty, out of fear and not because he wants to. He finally accepted that the choices he makes are his and his only, and the final choice in the show was made for him instead by him - I really don't think that the character deserved this. Lucifer gave Rory his word and we know he always goes by his word - they have turned one of the most essential qualities of his character into a plot device and an instrument that caused pain. Additionally, since Rory asked him not to change anything, it was implied that Lucifer can't come back to Earth in order not to risk changing anything even though it is completely possible for him to balance his work hours in Hell and his family time on Earth, like Amenadiel did. I also found this completely unfair and it felt like Lucifer was "banished" to Hell, not only missing out on being with Chloe and watching Rory grow up, but also staying away from his friends and the life he had built for himself. However, on the brighter side, Lucifer doing this - something he doesn't completely understand, something he doesn't want to do - is incredibly selfless of him and only shows how much he has grown. A character who has been described as selfish and self-serving from the very beginning does something so ultimately selfless, something that doesn't serve him in any way - quite the opposite, it pains him. As I said, I don't necessarily mind how things played out, I mind the lack of guarantee that they had to be this way. The only thing we don't know is if Lucifer and Chloe were in contact over the years since Chloe could have kept in touch with him behind Rory's back - maybe she sent him pictures of Rory, and maybe they exchanged letters. I am very doubtful because this would probably make the whole situation harder on them nor do I think that they would risk it because they wouldn't be able to know if their actions are breaking the time loop or if they are a part of the original timeline but hey, this is the stuff that fan fictions are made of!

And finally, I very much disliked the parallel between Lucifer and God - Lucifer abandoning his child for the sake of doing his job and that child growing up resenting him - if it was their intention to draw such a parallel. I think that God somewhat "redeemed" himself in Lucifer's eyes and that through accepting himself Lucifer also learned how to stop resenting his father for the things that transpired between them, and I don't necessarily believe that Lucifer had to walk in his father's shoes to understand him. So, in my opinion, this was completely unnecessary. Something I did like was Lucifer's calling - I think that it shows nicely the full circle he has made and that the souls he thought he is supposed to torture he is now helping heal. In a way, Hell is also the reflection of who Lucifer is - when he saw himself as broken, as evil, as unworthy and undeserving, Hell was also a place of torture - it was a reflection of him. And now that he accepted himself and that others have accepted him for who he is as well, it is a place of healing. In the end, Hell is his kingdom and he can choose to rule it the way he wants to. He broke his own hell loop and he truly became a lightbringer.

And, of course, Lucifer and Chloe (they are so soft and I am so soft for them). Taking into consideration my very bad OTP track reckord, I kinda expected a much, much worse ending for them - I mean, the Devil falling in love with a human, what could possibly go wrong, right? I knew from the very beginning that they aren't getting a pure, wholeseome, family-like ending. In order for that to happen, she would either have to become immortal (leaving Trixie, losing her detective identity), or he would have to become mortal - both of these scenarios feel cheap and I never would have wanted this for them or the show. Another option was to give them their happy life on Earth but then they would either have to leave a somewhat open ending or deal with the fact that ultimately, as a mortal, Chloe will die. And if they were given their happy ending on Earth, who knows if they would end up together in afterlife. Even if they did, it definitely wouldn't feel as emotional and as gratifying as it does now. The thing is, it is easy to give in to the pain of their separation when we measure it by the pivotal moments of happiness and loss that drive the lives of humans - him not being there when Rory was born or when she grew wings or when she started school - and it is even harder when you know how much she needed him and how much he wanted to be there for her. It is even more painful when you think about Chloe spending her entire lifetime without him, carrying all that pain inside of her, and him spending what had to be centuries alone in Hell. However, this is a fantasy show and many of our characters are immortal, celestial beings who have a different understanding of time, so maybe the idea of what a happy ending is and the rules for measuring happiness aren't the same as they would have been under other circumstances. Chloe became lieutenant and tried to make a difference, and she got to raise her daughters and see them grow up, and Lucifer helped so many souls heal, doing so much good. And now they get to spend the eternity together, solving crimes and kicking ass in the afterlife! Many of their friends and family are immortal, celestial beings too and (I am pretty sure) they can pay a visit to their human friends in Heaven... or see them in Hell, but let's hope not! In the end, what is one lifetime compared to eternity? Of course, none of this makes for the time they have lost, the momories they didn't get to make and the moments he wasn't there for, but now there are so many new memories they will get to make and so many moments to catch up on. It is bittersweet, but I think that's how it was supposed to be - in the end, pain is part of life.

I also have a few (dis)honourable mentions:

1. I am really sad and disappointed Lucifer didn't get to say goodbye to Trixie. She was gone for the majority of the season, but she was also a very important person in his life and he loved her. And we know how much she loved him.

2. I can't get over Rory travelling through time to kill her father because she is angry at him... sis, you kill him before he makes you, you wipe yourself out of existence.

3. I can't believe that they were surprised that Chloe got pregnant after having loads of superhuman sex (without any protection, apparently) after another human already got pregnant with an angel not that long ago.

4. Lucifer saying goodbye to Maze will forever remain one of the most beautiful scenes in the show.

5. The final major scene between Chloe and Lucifer, where they say goodbye before he leaves for hell, lives in my head rent free. I was choking on tears watching that scene, I literally had to pause and rewind three times. Such a beautiful(ly painful) scene. Also, when you have a ship and a person A says to the person B "close your eyes", pain is coming. I swear I travelled back to 1999 when Buffy said the same thing to Angel before sending him to a hell dimension.

6. When Chloe dies and goes to Heaven and Amenadiel greets her and asks her if she's ready to go home and then takes her to Lucifer was so pure. Her Heaven is being in Hell with Lucifer and there's something deeply poetic about that.

7. Hearing hello detective for the last time cleared my skin.

I have really and truly enjoyed the show, and the minor inconsistencies I see in its ending can't change that. I loved the show because it told stories about people and it allowed them to drive the narrative, and I can't say many shows these days do that.

#lucifer #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #deckerstar #trixie espinoza #rory morningstar #aurora morningstar #amenadiel #ella lopez #linda martin #mazikeen smith #text #rant #writing #reaction #review #tv review #lucifans #lucifer finale

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everything-laito · 4 years ago

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damn the brain be out here going BRRRRRR here’s the Laito and Cordelia Analysis (with a little bit of Karl sprinkled in) Part III

wow my fingers are freezing but my brain sure isn't!

aaaanyways, iiiiiit’s trauma time!!! Am I a productive member of society by writing these analyses? No. Do I gain anything by writing them? Kinda, my brain gets exercised and they’re fun to research for. But if you haven’t read the first part or the second part for some reason (I recommend reading them in order), there they are.

Once again, trigger warnings still apply; mainly about trauma, isolation, etc

I’m gonna talk about the trauma and effects it had on Laito and to attempt to extrapolate why he is the way he is. I have a lot of examples I want to go over and stuff to talk about, so I think the trauma part is going to be split between two (or maybe three) parts. I also have a little bit to say about Karlheinz.

As always, big ass rant under the cut!

Section 6: Neuroplasticity and Trauma

Oh???? More science vernacular??? You BET! Ok, neuroplasticity. I know I’ve talked about it on this blog. But, I seriously doubt that there is a madlad who has read all of my analyses (speaking of which, I should update the master list lmao) and I don’t expect anyone to do that LOL! Anyways, this neurological concept is the ability of neurons to adapt to certain circumstances or stimuli by creating new neurological pathways (through synapses). This basically relates to memory and learning. It’s why we don’t stay the same person as we grow and develop. It’s responsible from mindset changes to response to traumatic events. It plays a huge part in trauma, which is why “repressed memories” occur as well.

Trauma, taken from Psychology Today, is defined as:

...the experience of severe psychological distress following any terrible or life-threatening event. Sufferers may develop emotional disturbances such as extreme anxiety, anger, sadness, survivor’s guilt, or PTSD.

It’s a basic definition. And although I’d assume people would know what trauma is already, but knowing the lexical definition of something can be good to know before going into it.

Obviously, Laito has trauma, there’s literally no refuting that. But, the point I’m getting at, is the reason why he is the way he is today is because of neuroplasticity. As previously stated, we are going to assume the DL vampire brain works similarly or the same as a human brain. So, because of the stress put upon the brain (Cordelia’s actions and Laito’s general upbringing in a stress filled household), Laito’s brain was rewired (neuroplasticity). This section doesn’t really have much new information, but I wanted to give a baseline since there’s many people who don’t know what neuroplasticity is.

Laito’s definitely different than what he was as a kid. He still kind of had his smarts, and might have been but as we’ve deducted from the first part of this series, he might have been groomed. On top of that, the brain is easily moldable when you’re a child (which is why grooming makes sense for Laito’s case), and continues to snip brain cells off and form new connections.

Section 7: Little intermission about Karlheinz

I know I haven’t really talked about Karlheinz yet. So this will be the section that I do it in. I know this part is about Laito’s trauma, but it’s so hard to not just weave other characters into it. Nothing is stand-alone, which is why it was so hard for me to plan this out. I was debating about saving this for another analysis, but I feel like it fits.

I referenced this in Part II, Section 5 of this analysis series. Basically, Karlheinz throws Laito into the dungeon and locks him up. Not Karlheinz personally, but he ordered someone to do it. We don’t explicitly know why, but there’s several implications. A huge one is that it was part of Karlheinz’ experiment. Before Dark Fate, I was like “wait, so did Karl find out about Laito/Cordelia? And got like jealous or was like ‘nah this shit fucked up no thanks’?” I was really scratching my head on that. But in Dark Fate, you find that Karlheinz knew about Cordelia and Laito, and even really wanted it to happen. Which is all sorts of fucked up. This really put Laito in for a loop. Here’s a scene from Dark Fate:

Laito: That woman always, always believed in Karlheinz. Laito: She believed he married her because he loved her, wanted her. That’s why she was sure that one day... he will give his love only to her. Laito: But she was tricked. She wasn’t loved from the start... Laito: -And I’m a victim of this unbelievable mistake... That’s how it is. Laito: I was treated as a vent for her feelings. Yui: ...Laito-kun... Laito: I’m sure he knew that something like this will happen... He is a god after all... Laito: I was hoping that... He just overlooked it up until now... Laito: But... I was naive. Laito: I was only planned a scapegoat.

God, when I played this, that just freaking struck me to my core. That’s so awful. Ironically... Karlheinz probably has some high level of emotional intelligence. I don’t believe he could be labeled as a sociopath, considering he has this high level understanding of pathos. He’s not god in a sense that he controls everyone individually himself. He’s so good at manipulation that he basically creates fate itself (whether you believe in it or not). He’s generally intelligent and cunning, and it also just helps with the fact that he’s immortal and can time travel. He knows cause and effect by now, and I believe Lost Eden said something about how he’s done so many different “timelines.”

The definition of a god in a philosophical sense can be broken down into three words: omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent. More wicked cool jargon! Yay! Here’s what they mean for extra clarification:

Omniscient: All knowing Omnipresent: All seeing Omnipotent: All doing

Sure Karlheinz doesn’t absolutely know everything, nor can see everything, and he definitely has limits to his power, but he has gained knowledge through living for so many years and time traveling; he has familiars which add to the whole “all seeing” part; and he has a lot of power. So basically, in the most semi-”realistic” sense, it would definitely be the closest being to any kind of god.

Karlheinz is probably the reason why Laito himself has such contempt towards religion, and the existence of a god in general. Sure, the boys are like “that shit’s made up by humans” in general, but it would make sense for Laito himself to have that specific hatred. It makes sense that these vampires would be like “oh that’s made up by humans” when they’ve been around forever and have seen multiple religions come and go. (I’m mainly talking about in DL’s lore case, not starting a religious argument; please don’t take it as such––just to clarify)

Section 8: Isolation

Originally, the previous part was going to be about Laito’s isolation being locked up. However, I went off the rails and it turned into that little intermission. This is going to be a shorter section, but I still wanted to talk about, and it will weave into the next section.

There is no implications about how long Laito was locked up (and tortured) in the dungeon. There’s also no implications about why he was tortured. But torture and isolation puts such stress on the brain that there’s definitely going to be some kind of outcome if persisting for a good period of time. So let’s take a look at what that does to a person.

Once again, taking this with a grain of salt. I imagine vampires don’t need to rely on social interaction as much as humans do, considering they live forever. But we don’t know. However, throwing Laito into a state of isolation implies that it would be some type of torture or harsh punishment for a vampire, which therefore implies that social interaction is a necessity for emotional function. It’s just sound, inductive logic.

So now, as for isolation, I’m using this article as reference. It’s a pretty interesting one to read. Here’s another extensive article as well. Basically isolation can cause:

Depression/anxiety

Immune system deficiencies (basically more likely to get physically ill)

Sleep cycle changes (if put underground or with limited natural light)

Hallucinations

Paranoia

Issues with processing information and more susceptible to persuasion/manipulation

We have no clue if Laito’s experience fits all of these. Also, the second one can be crossed out because vampires in DL can’t get physically sick in the way we can. Also, unsure about the sleep cycle stuff considering they are used to being in the dark. Hallucinations and paranoia can’t be crossed off nor proven.

Being isolated physically and mentally exhausts the mind, which is why it’s also a way of torture. Laito implies that he was tortured with physical devices, but regardless, it’s still stress on the mind. This type of stress definitely goes along with what was mentioned with neuroplasticity and trauma, which also supports the last bullet point: issues processing information and being more susceptible to persuasion/manipulation. Take this flashback from Maniac Prologue in HDB that I used in Part II section 5 (but here’s even more context):

Laito: ーー Let me go!! Let me out of here! Butler: I can’t, young lord. We’ve received strict orders from your father. I am deeply sorry, but please stay put for a while. Laito: What’s the point in having me chained up in here!? Butler: ーーI am very sorry. Laito: Hahahaha…You stupid old man! Do you think that this will make repent!? How foolish! That demon! Has his brain finally rotten from spending too much time with humans!? ー Cordelia appears Cordelia: ー Oh? Laito: …!? Have you come to save me? Cordelia: Oh dear. Ufufu…I’m sorry Laito, that isn’t it. Laito: Eh? Richter: ー Why are you here? Laito: …That’s my line. Cordelia: Okay, okay. No fighting! More importantly, Richter…Come here. Laito: …!? Cordelia: Nnn…Hey, Laito. You are a good boy. Laito: …!! Cordelia: Right, Laito? Laito: Yeah, that’s right. I’m…I’m a good boy after all. ーー Besides, I’m the type of person who only get more aroused from this kind of thing.

Although I also use this to support the whole Stockholm syndrome point, this could also be supported with the trauma isolation also holds. His mind is being re-molded into the facade he holds. Also, note the whole “do you think this will make me repent?!” part. Just a very interesting thing. The word “repent” implies that there’s something to feel guilty about or the person knows that what they’ve done is bad. It just goes to show that Laito has some part of guilt or moral compass still in tact.

You can also argue that this scene was when Laito just got locked up, or he’s been here for a while. Either way, he could have also been socially isolated before this too, just hanging around Cordelia like it’s implied when he was a child. Remember the whole not being in bed 9/10 times when he was a child? Yeah, controlled social isolation. We also rarely see Laito with other characters in his flashbacks. I don’t believe we see him with his brothers in any of his flashbacks from what I can recall; he’s usually with Cordelia. Just implies (to me) that he’s around her a lot. And being locked up is also a more extreme case of that, which would mold the brain even more.

I know that was a LOT to process and read. I sure hope this still is cohesive for you all. I’m pretty bad at organizing this kind of stuff; it’s a bit difficult since it all just goes together. Which, kudos on the writers of DL, because that’s just good writing. I was going to put something about gaslighting in this part, but that might be too long, so I’m going to make that a separate part or include it in the next part.

If you have any questions, feel free to just put it in the inbox. I’m planning on making the last part of this series answering all the Laito/Cordelia questions I’ve received, or just general questions pertaining to this analysis in general, whether it be tangential questions or clarifying questions.

Hope you all are still enjoying this ride as much as I am! -Corn

#analysis #diabolik lovers analysis #diabolik lovers #dialovers #dialover #laito sakamaki #sakamaki laito #raito sakamaki #sakamaki raito

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mybeautifulchristianjourney · 3 years ago

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Devotional Hours Within the Bible

by J.R. Miller

The Abundant Life (John 10:10)

Christ always wants abundant life. He is infinitely patient with the weak - but He wishes that we be strong. He accepts the feeblest service - but He desires us to serve Him with the whole heart. The smallest faith, even like a grain of mustard seed, has power with God and can remove mountains - but God is best pleased when we have a faith that quails at no difficulties, and accomplishes impossibilities. A believer may have but the smallest flame of life, and yet Christ will not despise it. "Smoking flax, shall He not quench."

There is a picture of one bending over a handful of cold embers on the hearth, as if he would get them to glow again. Underneath the picture are the words, "It may be there is a spark left yet." This is a picture of the infinite patience of Christ with those who are almost dead spiritually. So long as there is even a spark left - He will seek in every way to make it thrive. But with all His gentleness toward the barely living, He wants abundance of life in all His followers. "I am come that they might have life - and that they might have it more abundantly ."

Every picture of Christian life which our Lord uses, suggests fullness and richness of life. Fruit is the test and measure of it. The fruitless branch is taken away, and the fruitful branch is pruned that it may bring forth more fruit. "This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit - showing yourselves to be my disciples." (15:8). To the woman at the well Jesus spoke of spiritual life beginning in the heart as a well or spring of water. When we receive Christ, a fountain of divine life is opened in our hearts. At first, however it is only a little spring, a mere beginning of the life of God and heaven in us. Then, later, Jesus said, "He who believes on me… out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water" (7:38). The little spring, by and by becomes rivers. Christ came to give life and to give it abundantly .

There have been those in all ages, whose lives became like rivers in the fullness and richness of their flow. This was true of John and Peter and Paul. Streams of blessing and good poured out from them, which reached many lands and thousands of people, and which are still flowing today, wherever the gospel is known. There are those whose influence for good touches countless lives.

What is an abundant life ? It does not need to be a conspicuous life, one which makes itself heard on the streets. There are some good people who seem to suppose that they are living for a purpose - only when they are making themselves seen and heard. Yet there are those who are rich in outward show - but poor in inward experience. One may have abundant life - and yet move among men so quietly as almost to be unheard and unknown. Of our Lord Himself it was written, "He shall not strive, nor cry; neither shall any man hear His voice in the streets" (Matthew 12:19). No other ever had such fullness and abundance of life as He had, and yet no other ever lived and worked so quietly as He did. Noise is not true spiritual power. The real power in life is in its influence, in its character and personality.

Our Lord puts first in the Beatitudes - humility. "Blessed are the poor in spirit" (Matthew 5:3). It is the lowly ones who live nearest to the heart of Christ, and have most of His life in them. Not those who fill the largest places in the eyes of men, even in the church; nor those whose works attract the most attention, have most of God in the - but those who live humbly, with no thought of human recognition or praise.

The abundant life need not be known by its large financial gifts. The tendency in these days is to measure every man's value to the world, by charities. Money has its value. Those who contribute to charity, to education, to religion, if their gifts are wisely bestowed, are blessings in the world. It is the bounden duty of all who possess wealth - to use it in doing good. But money is never the best gift we can bestow on others; and those who cannot give money - may yet be really generous givers.

A man's money is not the only thing a man has to give. He can give love, sympathy, encouragement, hope, or cheer - and these gifts will help where money would be only a mockery. There are great needs which money has no power to satisfy. There are sorrows which money cannot alleviate.

It was an ancient fable, that an angel was permitted once to visit this world, and from the mountaintop to look down upon the cities and palaces and works of men. As he went away he said: "Why, all these people are spending their time building birds' nests. They are building birds' nests to be swept away in the floods, when they might be building palaces of beauty to abide forever!" If all Christians would put the same earnestness into their Christian life which they put into their bird-nest building, what victories would they accomplish for the kingdom of Christ!

Jesus never gave money. Yet the world has never known such a lavish giver as He was. Imagine Jesus going about with His hands full of coins and dispensing them wherever He went among the poor, the lame, the blind, the beggars, the lepers, the sick - money, and nothing else. What a poor, paltry service His would have been, in comparison with the wonderful ministry of kindness and love He performed in His journeyings through the land! Suppose He had given a coin to the woman who lay at His feet crying for her poor daughter's deliverance. Would that have comforted her? Suppose He had put a handful of money in the hands of the blind beggar at Jericho, instead of opening His eyes - would the generous gift have meant as much to the poor man?

"Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have give I you" (Acts 3:6), said Peter at the Beautiful Gate to the lame man. Then the man was lame no more. Was not the healing a better gift to the poor man than if he had filled His hands with coins? Was it not better that the man should be made strong, so that he would not need to beg anymore, than that he should have been supported a day or two longer in poverty and mendicancy?

The abundant life may not have money to give - and yet it may fill a whole community with blessings through its gifts. It may go out with its sympathy, its words of comfort, its inspirations of cheer and hope, and may make countless hearts braver and stronger. Let the well of love in your heart spring up and pour out rivers. That is what it means to have life abundantly.

To others who turn to us with their needs, their heart-hungers, and their sorrows - we should be their comfort, strength and help. They should go away helped. We should always have bread in our hands to give to those who are hungry. We should always have cheer for those who come to us disheartened and discouraged. "How can I help you?" should be our heart's question, whoever it is that stands before us. The life Christ came to give is only love - God's love poured into veins and through us to those who lack. It is more love we need - when we cry out for more life and more power to do good. It is love that the world needs. Nothing else will make people happier or better. Ethics will not heal broken hearts, nor comfort those who are in sorrow, nor quiet a guilty conscience. The only abundant life is the life that is abundant in love.

How can we get this abundant life? Most of us are conscious of the poverty and thinness of our spiritual life. We faint easily under our burdens or in our struggles. We are not living victoriously. We are not filled with the spirit of Christ. We may have other things - we may have plenty of money; we may have pleasure, power, honor; our hands may be full of tasks. But there is only a little of God in us, only a little of heaven. Our brains may be teeming with plans, projects and dreams of success - but of spiritual life, our veins are scant.

Christ came to give us just what we need - life. We can get it only from Him, and we can take it only as His gift. We have no conception, we who are merely living, with no great, strong, victorious life, what it is possible for us to become as Christians in this world - if only Christ would possess us fully, wholly.

Henry van Dyke tells of two streams that emptied into the sea: One was a sluggish rivulet, in a wide, fat, muddy bed; and every day the tide came in and drowned out the poor little stream, and filled it with bitter brine. The other was a vigorous, joyful, brimming mountain river, fed from the unfailing spring among the hills; and all the time it swept the salt water back before it, and kept itself pure and sweet; and when the tide came, it only made the fresh water rise higher and gather new strength by the delay; and ever the living stream poured forth into the ocean, its tribute of living water - the symbol of that influence which keeps the ocean of life from turning into a Dead Sea of wickedness .

But there is no way to save our lives from being swallowed up in the bitter floods of sin in this world - but by having them full of divine life. A feeble stream of spiritual life has no power to resist the evil of the world. Only the abundant life can keep itself pure and sweet.

A wild gypsy girl was sitting for her picture, in an artist's studio in Germany. Opposite to her as she sat, hung an unfinished picture of the crucifixion. One day the girl asked, "Master, who is that?"

"That is Jesus Christ," replied the painter.

"Was He a very bad man, that they treated Him so cruelly?"

"On, no! He was the best Man that ever lived," said the artist, carelessly.

"Tell me more about Him," pleaded the girl, who had never heard of Jesus before.

Day after day as the girl came to the studio - her eyes remained fixed upon the picture of the Christ on His cross. When her sittings were ended and she was going away, she whispered: "Master, how can you help loving Him who, you say, died for you? If anybody had loved me like that - oh, I'd like to die for him!"

Has not the love of Christ for you - power to win you to love Him?

#J.R. Miller #The Abundant Life #Devotional Hours Within the Bible #John 10:10 #September 2 #2021

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whatiwillsay · 4 years ago

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t 2017 playlist analysis

Alright folks, whether you’re newly indoctrinated in the swiftgron faith, or have been here for a while, buckle up because boy is there crack coming your way. It should be important to note that these are of course reaches and should be taken with a grain/pound of salt. What you’re about to read is a lyrical analysis of a playlist made by Dianna on her private spotify, titled ‘t 2017.’ Therefore, the only real ‘evidence’ we have to make connections lies in the lyrics, and the general vibe of the playlist.

The following lyrical analyses stems from the idea that Taylor and Dianna may, and I strongly say may have hooked up, possibly around late 2016, or early 2017 (right when this playlist was made). If you haven’t already, I highly suggest reading Cam’s Swiftgron timeline that she has meticulously and laboriously outlined for all of us, so you have more background knowledge on any reaches/connections made. Also listen to her pod for extra serotonin cause I know you bitches want it. Anyway, I digress– I’ll be pointing out only the songs/lyrics that I think are most relevant (and to make this post shorter, I apologize in advance) but I urge y’all to take a look at each songs’ lyrics to see for yourself, because some of these songs seem loud af. Ok happy reading!

Genesis- Grimes

My heart, I never feel I never see I never know Oh, heart And then it falls And then I fall And then I know

This verse talks about the unpredictable nature of love, you never know when those feelings could come rushing in, and there could be days when you feel like you’re never going to love again– gives me cowboy like me vibes with that particular sentiment.

Home and I know Playing the deck above It’s always different I am the one in love

Ok I don’t think this one needs any explanation other than tis the damn season.

1998- Chet Faker

We used to be friends We used to be inner circle I don’t understand What have I become to you

This verse is giving me major the 1 vibes– “rosé flowing with your chosen family” kinda thing. Relationships (yes, even hookups) are hard, especially when you go from knowing someone like the back of your hand, to a being a mere memory. It’s even harder when you run in the same social circles and are bound to bump into each other. What are you to do with all those unresolved emotions/lack of closure? I just find this a bit funny because two years later at SNL, Dianna is actually considered Taylor’s ‘inner circle’ at the afterparty.

Drops- Jungle

When you’re so high, you When you fall from the sky, you So come down from the clouds Come down on me

I’ve been loving you too long

This song sort of encapsulates the feeling of love that is intoxicating, one might even say addicting. In that sense, I’m getting major Style vibes, in that they keep coming back to each other because of that high and intoxicated love. More than anything, this verse reminds me of Clean, and of course Dianna’s infamous tweet, “withdrawals…clearly we had fun” (see Cam’s swiftgron masterpost/timeline for receipts).

Ritual Union- Little Dragon

Straight off the bat, this song gives off major infidelity vibes (something Taylor has been obsessed with as evidenced by Evermore, and of course Babe which btw had a lot of social media signalling/shenanginas happening in 2017/2018). Perhaps Winston was the cuck after all and we did get a swiftgron hookup?

Ritual union’s got me in trouble again I was wonderin’ of a white dress And the mistress And a spirit holding my hand!

You do the math with that one– ivy anyone?

Daniel- Bat For Lashes

Daniel when I first saw you I knew that you had a flame in your heart And under our blue skies Marble movie skies I found a home in your eyes We’ll never be apart

I only have two words to explain this verse– Begin Again

But in a goodbye bed With my arms around your neck Into our love the tears crept Just catch in the eye of the storm

With this verse in particular, there’s this sense of a heartbreaking parting of ways in a relationship. It feels eerily similar to This Love– “your kiss, my cheek, I watched you leave.” There’s also a mention of a storm, and we all love a good old storm in the swiftgron universe (Clean, DBATC, CIWYW).

Can’t Do Without You- Caribou

I swear to god these are the only two lyrics

Can’t do without

I can’t do without you

Make of that what you will.

Touch- Shura

This was the song that had me fully convinced that swiftrgon might’ve hooked up again in the recent past. It’s so fucking loud and I did audibly gasp when I read these lyrics. I’m so tempted to post the entire song because honestly every lyric fits their narrative almost to a t, but I’ll try putting the loudest lyrics here.

There’s a love between us still But something’s changed and I don’t know why And all I wanna do is go home with you But I know I’m out of my mind

This love is good, this love is bad. This slope is treacherous, I like it. If the hookup did happen, it’s clear that it’s a bit hard to just pick up immediately from where you left off. Of course there’s still a lot of love there, it just takes time for those years to melt away.

I wanna touch you but I’m too late I wanna touch you but there’s history I can’t believe that it’s been three years Now when I see you, it’s so bittersweet

Ok this is basically swiftgron’s story right here, I mean come on?!?

I’m running down a dream like Tom Petty, I’m a heartbreaker But then you changed up a relationship, I’m mostly bankrupt There’s a new kid on your block, I gotta hang tough

Cowboy like me anyone?

Yeah, the effect of touch hands is like a miracle How is it you’re halfway across the world when I’m still feeling you? Just a touch of my love, just a little bit Ain’t no love without trust, we gotta deal with this

Gives me treacherous and wonderland vibes– “I’ll do anything you say if you say it with your hands” and “you searched the world for something else to make you feel like what we had.”

iT- Christine and the Queens

I feel like this song gives off major Reputation vibes– controlling your narrative/ ridiculing what other people thought you were, etc.

With it I become the death Dickinson feared With it I’m the red admiral on his ship And I raise with infants for my coronation I’ve ruled over my all my dead impersonations

‘Cause I’ve got it I’m a man now

Sunday Love- Bat For Lashes

This is a literal weekend hookup anthem (major tis the damn season vibes) and is also one of the other songs that convinced me of the swiftgron hookup. Again, please look at all the lyrics and deduce for yourself and freak out like I did, but I’m putting the loudest lyrics down.

See her in blue eyes Numb and shining In the face of strangers In the city lights Where he’s climbing Cupid’s diving And I know that she’s come To spend the night

She is in my bedroom Now I can’t fight

Blue eyed lady coming to your house to fuck you. Ok Dianna, real subtle with that. I’m joking but I snorted when I saw this lyric.

I see her in every place I go Sunday love is so cold Even though I’m falling apart I want Sunday love in my heart

You could call me babe for the weekend cause it’s the damn season. Also “I see you everywhere the only thing we share is this small town.”

Sweet Talk- Jessie Ware

There’s never any doubts when i need you It’s just that you can always make me feel like I am slipping in way too deep And let the shadows hope to hide or break the dreaming, dreaming of us

The vibe of this song is that there’s someone who always pulls you in because they know exactly what to say. They found wonderland and got lost in it.

Dear To Me- Electric Guest

When it’s bad Feels like I don’t know which way I should go But over time I come back and remember The one thing that I know

You’re dear to me and I know

I know I’ve tied so many songs to ttds, but I guess it’s all the more reason to claim that one for swiftgron nation? This verse reminds me of “the road not taken looks real good now, and it always leads to you and my hometown.”

Got It Bad- Leisure

This song was added much later to the playlist on Taylor’s birthday in 2019. All other songs were added early feb of 2017. With this song, I don’t get much except cowboy like me vibes.

Got our different ways with the same old payout Had our own dreams with the same old outcome Had a bad extreme and the same old break down Worked it to the bone with the same old habit

Et voila, that’s the end! I know this was super long so thanks for sticking through. Again please note that these reaches were made because we are a little biased through a swiftgron lens. It’s very possible that Dianna simply likes these songs and put it on a playlist, but let’s be real, gays practically communicate through spotify. This is not fact and not proof for anyone to hound Dianna or invade in her or Taylor’s personal life, this is just for swiftgron fun. That said, I’m personally inclined to believe that something did happen between Taylor and Dianna in 2017 possibly. That’s all I have to say, thanks!

submission⬆️⬆️⬆️

ANON THIS WAS AMAZING YOU JUST MADE MY MORNING!!!

you should make a gaylor blog if you don’t have one already we NEED more of this content!

#swiftgron #gaylor swift #t 2017 playlist #best of #submission

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too-attached-to-fiction · 5 years ago

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Promise I’ll Never Let You Down | g.w.

Masterlist here

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Word count: 1224

Request: Could you write a Fred or George Weasley (or both, hehe) imagine where the reader is with someone else who is an absolute prick and becomes very mean towards her, but when she tells the twins they threaten to take care of it (obviously she already took care of it because she’s a boss ass bitch)? Maybe one of the twins offers themself as the better option for a boyfriend? Please and thank you so much 😊

A/N: I wrote this for George because I never see enough love for him <3 most of the way I write for the twins is based off of other fanfics I’ve read because I don’t think they appear nearly as much as they should in the books AND the movies, which is a shame. Anywho, i hope you enjoyed this and feel free to request more! also i wrote this at midnight sorry not sorry

~~~

“I don’t want you hanging out with the Weasleys anymore.” Blake Jennings, your boyfriend, told you point blank. He’d pulled you out of lunch for a petty fight, but you wouldn’t back down anymore.

You were a Gryffindor, and now was the time to act like it.

“Why?” You challenged, standing your ground.

“B-because…” Blake stuttered, obviously not used to you fighting back. You’d taken most of your arguments with a grain of salt, but today was the last straw.

Fred and George had been your best friends since the three of you were in your nappies. The three of you were always running around Hogwarts, owning the school the moment you stepped into the Great Hall. And no jealous boy or girl could get in the way of your friendship.

“Because what?” Your words now dripped with venom. There was a reason why you had nearly made it into the Slytherin house; when you were angry, you were someone no one wanted to fight with. “Because I’m spending time with my friends?”

Blake scoffed, although it was clear he knew who was winning the argument at this point. “No friend looks at a girl the way one of them does.”

“Who cares if one of them has a crush on me or not? Funny, I remember saying yes when you asked to go with me. I’m not the one at fault here.” You crossed your arms.

“After today, you won’t see them again.”

“Are you trying to cut me off? God, what utter horseshit have you been consuming? I am not a puppet you can control. Let’s make that crystal clear.” You growled. “I think the only person I should be staying far away from is you, Jennings.” You started to walk away when Blake stopped you again.

“I’ll tell the whole school about this! I’ll ruin your reputation!” He yelled and you rolled your eyes.

“The only one who has a say in my reputation is me.”

~~~

Later, you were trying to study in the common room when the twins popped up. “Hey, (Y/N), where’d you go during lunch? We looked up and you were gone.”

“I was fighting with Blake.”

“Again?” Fred sat in front of you with George following suit. “What was it about this time?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, going back to your parchment and quill.

When you started dating Blake, the twins had heavily objected. He was a general ass to most people, but he seemed nice enough to you. When he initially asked you out, you only really said yes to see if it could make the twins, specifically George, jealous. It wasn’t like you ever really kissed or acted very couple-y with Blake, but it was enough to get people to notice.

“It wasn’t nothing.” George said, and you shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Did he hit you?”

“Did he yell at you?”

You shrugged your shoulders again. “It was a standard couple fight. A little yelling, no hitting.”

“Do we need to go beat him up for you?” George offered.

“Or we could prank him.” Fred suggested.

“Pranking would be fun.” The two of them said in unison, and you groaned.

“I hate it when you do that.” You set your quill in the ink pot and looked at them. “You don’t need to do anything.”

“D’you hear that George? We need to do something.” Fred’s face turned serious, and you rolled your eyes.

“You don’t need to do anything because I may have put itching powder in his underwear this morning. I dumped him at lunch.” You said nonchalantly, putting your things away. There was no point in studying now that the twins were here, and you weren’t even sure what you had been writing for the past inch of your notes.

“You dumped him?” Both of them exclaimed at once, glee very present on their faces. “And pranked him on the same day?”

“Bloody hell, (Y/N). You’re evil.” George laughed.

“What made you finally kick the bucket?” Fred questioned.

“He gave me an ultimatum. Said that if I wanted to keep dating him, I couldn’t talk to you two. And that’s not an offer I’m ever going to accept, no matter the person.”

“Aww.” The twins chorused, causing you to laugh again.

“Well, we’re still pranking him.” George said, and you stuck out your tongue at him. “Fred, can you get the notebook?”

Fred stood up faster than usual. “Yep, on it!” He practically raced off, and you eyed George suspiciously.

“I thought we made an unbreakable vow to never prank each other.” You said, and George grinned.

“It’s not that, I promise. Are you sad about Jennings?”

You always liked talking to George. Even if the moments where it was just the two of you were often few and far between, George was the softer twin. That wasn’t to say that Fred was mean, but where Fred was hyper and treated most things like a joke, George was a little mellower when it came to serious matters. Perhaps that was the reason why you loved him. You and Fred always came first to him, even if he had to put aside his own troubles for the afternoon.

“Not really. I reckon we all saw it coming.” You sighed, sinking into the back cushion of your chair. “Only a matter of time, really. I don’t even know why I said yes to him in the first place.”

“I always thought you could do better than that bastard. He never treated you right.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking over at the red headed twin who sat beside you. “Oh? What do you think would be the better option for me?” You were starting to walk a tight line and you knew it, but your suspicions needed to be sure before you did anything else.

“Someone who would do anything to make you smile or laugh so hard you can’t breathe properly.” He said sincerely, staring back into your eyes. Your cheeks reddened, your heartbeat racing.

“And who would that person be?” You asked, trying to avoid stuttering. George leaned closer, your faces inches apart.

“Me, i-if that’s what you want.” He wanted so badly to touch you, cup your cheek and seal the distance between you. Instead, he kept his hands on the couch, eyes asking for an answer.

You weren’t too aware of what you were doing as you leaned forward, closing the gap and fluttering your eyes shut, kissing him. His eyes widened in surprise before he moved closer, moving his lips in sync with yours. When you finally pulled back for air, you looked at him, biting your bottom lip.

“Does that give you your answer?” You mumbled, smiling at him. Both of your faces were red, and only became darker as Fred walked up to you, wolf-whistling.

“That took too long. Keep it PG for the rest of us, aye?” He smirked as George shot him a glare and you grinned, hiding your face into George’s shoulder.

“Shut up.” George rolled his eyes. “I didn’t even ask her out yet.”

“You don’t need to.” You and Fred both spoke together, your voice quieter and muffled compared to the other Weasley twin.

“Do you need another kiss for your answer?” You teased, laughing as George’s cheeks reddened once again.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #harry potter imagines #george weasley imagines #weasley twins #requested #hp #hp george weasley #no beta we die like men

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cupofteaguk · 5 years ago

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what you want

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: post breakup au | fluff

warnings: depictions of alcohol consumption

word count: 5k

a/n: taken from “things you said while we were driving” on my old blog

In a way, Jungkook knows you’re on the other side of the line even before he answers the phone. One could argue that it’s because he remembers your strange and cute and endearing habit of always calling him at ungodly hours of the evening for absolutely no reason at all, or how its been a few months since things ended between the two of you and he still jumps at the notification of text messages and still catches glimpses of you on the street.

While all those things are true, he probably knows it’s you because he has yet to change the ringtone on his phone that corresponds to your calls. That way, his action of leaping off the couch and making a dive for his phone is slightly more justified as he slides the answer button and presses the device to his ear. “Hello?” He exclaims breathlessly, cursing himself out just a moment later because he didn’t even think to cover up the eager quality in his tone and probably sounds like he had been waiting around for your call—which he has but you didn’t need to know that.

“Hey! Jungkook!” You exclaim from the other end, a concerning amount of time between his question and your response that he can already feel his eyes narrowing and can already feel a little voice in the back of his head telling him that it doesn’t matter how he reacts to your call.

You’re likely way too drunk at this point to notice.

Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, bringing a finger up to tap at the crease as not just a means to calm himself but also a means to give himself a better handle on the situation. You were never the heavy drinker, especially when the pair of you were dating, so he doesn’t have any sort of default speech or words of caution to throw at you during this kind of specific predicament. From that, the only thing he can properly manage to say back to you is: “Are you drunk?”

A pause. “No of course not!” You shout back over the line and Jungkook sighs because the pieces are just beginning to connect in his mind. You only ever shouted when you were drunk, when your mind and vocal chords couldn’t process the depth or volume of your tone. “Why would I do that?!”

“Y/N, you’re shouting,” He points out, looking down and despite everything, despite the fact that he should really be pissed at you for disrupting his evening, despite the fact that your wellbeing shouldn’t be a priority in his life anymore—he can’t help but allow the corner of his lips to quirk up in the smallest smile. A smile of relief that you’re here and well and talking, a smile of relief that stops the flood of questions from escaping his lips.

Another pause, and he imagines you tilting your head to the side, imagines the drunk gears turning like a wheel over and over again in your mind as you comprehend his words and attempt to adjust your own lifestyle accordingly. “I am?” You return, but your voice has lowered significantly from grand yelling to soft whispering.

Jungkook can’t help it. A noise of laughter escapes from the back of his throat. “You’re insane,” He speaks without an ounce of remorse in his tone as he straightens up and off the floor, continuing to unconsciously cradle the phone against his ear, pressing it closer as if pulled by a desire to hear every curve of your voice. “Though I didn’t know you were the type to drunk dial…”

“M’not drunk dialing,” You point out, your voice still retaining that hushed quality but there’s something different about it, something sensual and vulnerable and it only captures Jungkook’s attention more. “Jungkook, I need you.”

The statement forces Jungkook into an immediate frenzy as he allows himself one second of completely disregard for the situation, for the fact that you were drunk and likely just spewing nonsense, the fact that the pair of you weren’t dating anymore, the fact that it has been months since your last conversation—all thoughts seems to fling itself out of the window. This leaves Jungkook alone in the living room, choking on his words. He swallows thickly because drunk words were sober thoughts, were they not? “Y-You need me,” He repeats back slowly.

You whine at that, a vulnerable noise Jungkook hasn’t heard in so long that it makes his heart tighten slightly in his chest. It’s not a reaction that comes out of need or physical desire, but more so as a deep unconditional sort of longing. He misses you, misses you definitely a lot more than he should be missing an ex-partner but he can’t help it.

“I need you for a ride,” You reply back, the addition of those last three words to that sentence doing little to diminish Jungkook’s attention on your voice. It doesn’t matter that you seem to have only called him for your own personal reason. “Karly dragged’m to this party and I don’t trust anyone else to pick me up.”

“So you need me… to pick you up from a party?” Jungkook echoes, gradually lowering himself onto the couch. He doesn’t know the protocol of open lines of communication between someone who use to (and still does, but people didn’t need to know that) mean the world to him. He doesn’t know if he should be more watchful, more careful, more aware of its hidden implications or if he should take situations like these with a grain of salt.

His genuine cluelessness about relationship norms has come to bite him back in the ass, yet he’s not too sure if it’s a bad thing or a good thing.

However, his restating of your request seems to click something in your mind because you let out a groan. “Oh god,” You say, letting out a big sigh. “I can’t ask you to pick me up.” It’s hard to tell if you’re talking to Jungkook or convincing yourself otherwise.

So Jungkook just leans against the couch, continuing to press the phone against his ear, closing his eyes just enough to the sound of you breathing lightly on the other side because holy shit it feels like lifetimes. “Well, why not?” He asks, lowering his gaze to stare down at his leg, the texture of his jeans. His finger comes out to trace at the denim mindlessly, desperate to keep you on the phone partially because he’s long since forgotten the lapsed sound of your breathing but also because that part of himself that’s always been protective over you longs to ensure your safety.

“You must be busy, right?” You grumble, voice slightly muffled and he imagines you leaning heavily against a wall to maintain your balance. “I don’t want to bother you… I just need to figure out how to get home.”

“N-No, it’s okay,” Jungkook reassures, pushing himself off the couch and already starting to rummage around for the important belongings such as his wallet and his keys. “Do you think you could drop a pin for me? I need to know where you are so I can come get you.”

You hum. “R-Really?” You manage. “You would do that?”

He swallows down the part of himself that almost admits he would do anything for you, not because he fears you retaining that statement but because he knows that speaking the words out loud would mean facing the truth he’s spent months trying to bury away.

So he reaches over to lightly scratch the back of his neck. “Yeah, I mean…” He starts, biting his lip, trying to find the right words that don’t give away too much of his feelings yet can still convey his desire to look after you. “I still care about you.”

He closes his eyes after the words escape, a wave of curses and frenzy and something akin to smashed keyboard lettering piling up in his mind. Fuck, fuck, that was definitely not what he was trying to go for.

Yet on the other side of the phone, you laugh softly and quietly and it sounds more tired than anything else which only gives Jungkook a greater incentive to go out and find you. “You’re too good for me Jungkook. I don’t know how I can return the favor.”

He feels himself practically melting at your words, at your ability to say the right thing without even having to try and it makes him wonder. His mind wanders to where it all went wrong, what happened between the two of you, why he’s here on the other side of the phone line in an apartment that feels much too empty and lonely rather than at that party with you and hearing your voice directly in his ear and not through some hazy reception. Or even better, just spending the time alone within each other’s company—playing video games or watching movies or cooking meals or just anything in general that involved being within each other’s company. Those things, once so common and mundane to the average day-by-day playback of his life, have quickly become his favorite things to reflect upon in his spare time. At least, until the realization of his lingering feelings for you and the fact that a breakup didn’t equate to breaking apart the remnants of his emotional connection.

He simply smiles. “Text me where you are. At least drop a pin.”

“Okay,” You manage and he can practically hear you nodding your head furiously to showcase the depth of how hard you were going to work to ensure that would happen. “I will. I really will.”

The pair of you hang up shortly after, and Jungkook finds himself letting out a breath. He hadn’t realized how nervous he would be at getting to converse with you after so many long months of silence; just a proof of testament to how you still had the full capability of continuously inching yourself underneath his skin.

His phone buzzes, capturing his attention as he reaches the device to his line of sight and sees the text message from you.

from you: [PINNED LOCATION]

from you: did tiowork

from you: jgnkook plaes tell me oyou got htaht

from Jungkook: I got it, just stay where you are okay?

from you: holy sih t did i use tehncaoloy coreectly im ga fucking genius

from you: jungkok guhryy up im tured i mgith

from you: fall sasleep

from Jungkook: DON’T

from you: jungkook ure too godoo for me

from you: what did ideo to derserve you

He pockets his phone after that, because although your messages are more than enough to send him into another burst of uncontrollable emotions, he knows immediately that his absolute first priority is to get to the party before you dropped your guard even more. He can’t even begin to imagine what would happen—his thoughts getting the best of him given that Jungkook doesn’t trust a little more than half of the overall human population and those fragments of alternative realities is what forces his feet to slam on the gas pedal and his eyes to frantically scan back and forth on the street to ensure that he would most definitely not miss the house.

He doesn’t. He gets the house right, and luckily doesn’t need to be double checking his work because not only are there long rows of cars parked along the sidewalk, but also a handful of people are littered outside along the porch. Given the quiet neighbor, their hushed voices make sense, but they’re all holding bottles and cups that leaves little to the imagination. Jungkook parks, steps out of his car, shuffles towards the house and his approaching figure is barely spared a glance as he makes his way up the steps and into the house.

Inside, the conversations are a little louder, a little more rowdy—the laughter is freer, a mixture of different voices are heard ringing down the hallway and the rooms that individuals have gathered in. But none of those things matter to Jungkook. He doesn’t care about the prospect of drinking with strangers, the typically alluring temptation of free alcohol. The only thing he cares about it—!

“Jungkook?” A voice sounds from one of the couches in the empty living room, the familiarity of the tone forcing him to stop completely in his tracks as he whirls around towards the source of the noise. His heart does that painful stuttering thing it always does when he sees you and he can practically feel the desperation and overwhelming swell of emotions erupting throughout his body—like that time you stepped out his bathroom for the first time in his clothes or the first time he woke up next you and saw the golden rays of morning light hitting all the curves and angles of your face. Or one instance post-coitus tangled with one another atop the mattress, deep breath matched into the evening, his fingers and eyes developing an intense fixation on your lips; that was the moment he realized he was in love with you.

And now those emotions seem to be hitting him like a wave the longer he stands there staring at you, taking you in because even though you are curled up on the couch half asleep, you’ve never looked more beautiful and months apart definitely does not change that.

“H-Hey,” Jungkook manages, taking the few steps towards you, quickening his pace slightly when he notices you struggling to sit yourself up on the couch. “Wait, don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” He instructs lightly, kneeling before you yet you still attempt to pull yourself up. You are somehow able to get your arm underneath yourself, using your strength to push your body. Your head almost falls to the side but Jungkook starts forward to hold the side.

Your eyes slowly find his, flickering upwards until they land upon his face and the corner of your lips quirk up in a tired yet gorgeous smile. “Hi Jungkook,” You whisper, your voice that low huskiness that always takes form when you’ve drank too much and yelled too much. He remembers bits and pieces of your drunken facade and knows this particular one to be your tired and exhausted shell. “It’s been awhile.”

You sound significantly less drunk than you had been over the phone, which he takes to be a good sign and that you’ve spent the few minutes it has taken Jungkook to drive from his house to this to sober up and start the process of trying to make yourself as well as you possibly could be in this state.

“I know,” He returns back.

You laugh, a mere exhale through your nose, eyes drifting close for a second before they open again. “This is’not how I wanted you to see me after all this time.”

He smiles softly. “Pretty sure I’ve seen you through worse.” And it’s true. He definitely has. “C’mon, my car is right outside.”

For a second, Jungkook is not entirely sure what to do with his hands. Under normal circumstances he would have no doubts about gathering you in his arms and leading you to his car himself, but these are not normal circumstances so he just settles with bringing a hand down to the curve of your waist.

“Can you stand up for me?”

Keeping both hands on his shoulders, it helps propel you upwards and although you aren’t completely uncoordinated, you still cling to him and Jungkook allows you to lean on him heavily as he holds you close in order to guide you out of the house and down the lawn.

You hum quietly under your breath, eyes fixated downwards to watch your footing. “Do you remember…” You start slowly, the exhaustion from the alcohol starts to eat away at your system. “Do you remember my house… like, where it is?”

“Yeah, yeah I remember where it is,” He answers, slowly open the passenger door and leaning over to help you sit down. You practically slump against on the seat, providing the further fluidity of your bones and muscles, still doing enough in dragging out the sheepish laugh from Jungkook. As if by instinct, he reaches over to tug the seat belt over your frame, crossing over your body to lock the buckle in place. This forces himself closer to you, forces him within such a close proximity to your frame that he can smell the lingering after effects of alcohol fill up his nose. But underneath that, he can still smell your perfume and the lavender scent of your shampoo. He clears his throat. “Uh, you good?”

You nod slowly, gaze unwavering from his face as he pulls away far enough to meet your eyes. You are unwavering, orbs flickering back and forth with a scary intensity that he momentarily questions the level of intoxication you are under. The only way he can know for sure is through the glassy complexion of your eyes.

“What?” He speaks, feeling too self-conscious to ignore the look across your features.

You inhale slowly. “You smell the same.” There is a sense of longing in your voice that Jungkook is almost sure is just the alcohol talking.

Almost.

He takes in a breath. “Y/N, you’re drunk,” He says, not sure if he’s trying to convince himself or you more. “Just try to get some rest, okay?” You look like you’re about to open your mouth to further explain your situation—because a tired you equates to a rambling you—but he pulls back and slams the car door shut without a word.

Not for long though, because he reappears on the driver’s side, sliding into place and sliding the key into the ignition to start the car up.

“Being drunk has nothing to do with how you smell the same,” You note quietly, shifting to stare longingly out of the window.

“Being drunk means everything,” He returns, making sure to keep his grip tight on the steering wheel keep himself focused on the road rather than you. “It means you’ll say something you’ll probably regret in the morning.”

“I highly doubt that,” You say, but he doesn’t believe you. Even when you readjust yourself once more to stare at his side profile. “Jungkook, I missed you,” You start. “So, so, so much.”

Despite his increasing heart rate, he manages a weak laugh. “You’re just saying that because I’m picking you up from a party.”

“No, no, no,” You protest, shaking your head. “Not true. I mean it. I missed you so much.”

That statement forces his mind into a complete 180 rotation as Jungkook is so startled at your confession that his foot accidentally slams down on the gas, forcing the pair of you to dart forward at such a speed that both heads slam against the back of the seats. Jungkook curses loudly, managing a right turn just before the overhead light turns red.

Jungkook’s breathing picks up as he tightens his grip on on the wheel. “Fucking hell—Y/N don’t say things like that!”

“Why not?” You protest, leaning back against the headrest of the seat. Your eyes slide shut and stay closed for a few seconds. “It’s true…” You let out a gentle sigh from between your lips, grumbling something that he can’t make out and Jungkook decides to take advantage of your incoherent nature to just fix the rest of his attention back on the road. Seriously, if you could keep your mouth shut for the next five minutes, he could actually maintain some semblance of his sanity to prevent any further potential accidents.

Luckily, aside from the occasional hum that leaves your lips, you are quiet which allows Jungkook to carefully navigate the streets before finally pulling up to the curbside in front of your apartment complex. The sight definitely brings back memories, but he swallows them down long enough to take himself out of the driver side and make his way back around to your side of the vehicle.

You’re still hunched against the seat when Jungkook opens the door, eyes closed and lips parted and bombarding him with memories of good times, better times, that he almost doesn’t reach him to shake you awake.

Key word: almost.

He leans in to gently grip your shoulder. “Y/N, we’re here.”

You open your eyes just as he’s reaching over to unbuckle your seatbelt, but Jungkook doesn’t get far because just as he’s about to pull back, your hands dart out to grasp at the hem of his jacket. Despite your sleepy facade, your grip is surprisingly strong and it keeps Jungkook within a close distance to your face.

He swallows down his heart threatening to crawl its way out of his throat.

“I’m not… fucking around Jungkook,” You insist. “The months when you’re not with me suck. They really fucking suck and…” You aren’t drunk but you definitely still are battling with the remnants of alcohol clouding your mind and judgment and Jungkook wants you to stop, wants you to put a halt to something you will surely regret in the morning, but he also knows that you would chew him out for continuously trying to interrupt you. Even if it’s for your own personal benefit. You’re funny and stubborn and adorable and endearing in this sense.

Back to reality. He blinks, biting his lip, hoping you cannot hear his rapidly increasing pulse drumming underneath the skin. Rather than put a stop to it, he can’t help himself this time around. He encourages your drunken mind. “What are you trying to say?”

Your gaze dances across his face, eyes still glazed and shimmering underneath the light of the car and the lights from the building behind the pair of you.

Then, without a warning, you lean forward and dust your lips against his.

For a moment, everything seems to leave Jungkook. Everything: from his sanity to his state of mind to the ground behind his feet to his sense of balance and belonging, leaving him alone with his raw and infinite love for you and a desire for more more more. He barely processes the way your hands move up from the hem of his shirt to the collar until you’re luring him in again for another kiss, one a little bit more firm and a little bit more intoxicating.

Jungkook practically whimpers at the kiss, a little noise of desire escaping from the back of his throat, because holy fucking shit, it may just be because he hasn’t kissed anyone over the past few months or maybe just because he hasn’t kissed you that’s making him feel this way, making him realize just how much he really fucking misses you and how perhaps breaking up wasn’t the best idea. For a split second, he longs to forget that you’re drunk, that you’re definitely not in your right state of mind, that you broke up for a valid (unfortunate) reason, that this is wrong. So very absolutely wrong.

Although it hurts every bone in his body, Jungkook has to force himself to turn away and pull back from you. “W-Wait,” He manages, processing the fact that his voice is low from the events that have just happened. His cheeks feel warm and he feels lightheaded, but he forces himself to stay focused on what is the right thing to do and definitely not trying to notice the way you look: from the flushed cheeks to the darkened lips to the distracted eyes. “We shouldn’t do this. It’s not right.”

The light once flickering so hopefully in your gaze dies down at his firm words, as you cast your head downwards in a mixture of utter shame and embarrassment. He can hear the gears turning frantically in your mind, can feel the way your hands pull away from his frame to settle tightly on your lap, can see the way you press your lips together as if you’re trying to keep yourself from saying anything further.

But his eyes widen as you inhale sharply before a heart-wrenching sob tears itself from your throat. Your hand flies up to cover your mouth, but it does little to stop the hiccups and Jungkook can only watch helplessly as you crumble apart right before his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” You admit quietly, such a soft whisper that he almost doesn’t hear you but he does and you are so broken that Jungkook’s own heart cannot be protected as he kneels down with eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. Questions swarm around his mind, desperately trying to figure out what to say because he should have known this would happen. He should have remembered that at the end of the day, after the laughter and the exhaustion have taken their phase in your identity like passage of the moon—it all ends with this. It all ends with the emotional part of you, when the alcohol gets to your head and leaves nothing but a sobbing mess behind over anything and everything. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” You start to ramble, each word broken up by a sharp inhale for air like your tears are drowning you. “I’m so sorry Jungkook, I’m so stupid, I’m so sorry…”

“Hey,” Jungkook starts. “Hey, stop apologizing. Why are you apologizing? Why are you crying?”

The questions do little but prompt further crying as another strangled sob escapes your throat and you turn your head with a refusal to even look in his general direction. Your jaw is clenched together, your hand is still at your mouth as if attempting to muffle your whimpers to little success.

“B-Because,” You stammer, your whole body shaking with the effort to contain the wave of your sufferings. Jungkook’s heart stutters painfully in his chest, sinking down to his stomach, as the words of how this was all his fault ring like a bell in his mind. “Because you probably hate me. You hate me, d-don’t you?”

He scoots a little closer. “No, no, of course I don’t. Y/N, where did you get that idea?”

You shake your head, eyes slamming shut. “H-How could you not hate me? I just kissed you and we’re not even together anymore, we haven’t been together for months and it just hurts so so much because I’m stupid, I’m so stupid…”

“Y/N, take a breath, you have to calm down,” Jungkook speaks gently, bravely reaching over to rest his hand on your knee, attempting to draw soothing patterns over the denim and hoping more than anything that you can feel the warmth and reassurance of his touch against your skin. “You aren’t making any sense. Why would you call yourself stupid?”

You pull your hand away from your mouth and you glare at him through your tears. Your face is bright red and wet with tears, but still so beautiful it really hurts. “Because I’m still in love with you,” You speak, swallowing down your uneven breathes and forcing yourself to make the statement as clearly as possible. “Because I’m still in love with you, and I’ve been trying to get over you this entire time to no luck. A-And I thought going to that dumb party would help me, but I-I guess not because I’m here being an asshole and trying to kiss you even though you hate me…” Your face crumbles and you look like you’re on the verge of tears all over again.

“Y/N,” Jungkook speaks up, leaning forward. “Y/N, please, stop beating yourself up for this. I don’t hate you. I could never hate you—you were the most important person in my life. I mean… you still are.”

You sniff, reaching up to wipe at your nose. “What are you trying to say?”

“I miss you too,” He replies quietly, gazing down for a moment to study the rest of your body. “I miss you so much all the time it hurts. If I had to give up a penny for every time I wanted to call you or text you… well, I’d probably be broke.”

You blink away the layer of tears clouding your vision. “D-Do you mean that?”

“I would never lie to you,” He admits, looking down and gently reaching over to grasp your hand. He runs his thumb over your skin, momentarily basking in the skin-on-skin contact with you.

Your body jolts with the occasional hiccup as you quietly try to let the previous wave of sobbing pass over you. “I’m sorry,” You whisper again. “I probably made a mess of your evening.”

He shakes his head before he even realizes what he’s doing. “No, it’s okay, I’m just glad to see you home safely.”

You look down at your joined hands. “S-Since you miss me, and I miss you,” You start, biting on your lip. “Can we start over?”

He gazes up at you. Every nerve in his body screams YES, because goddamn, it has been too long and he’s sure that if the universe was willing to give the pair of you another chance, you both would do anything and everything to make it work and not fall into those same traps that broke you apart last time. He has wanted a lot of things, but never has badly as this and he wants to hold you tightly and crush you to his chest and inhale your lavender—and yet.

The sinking sensation seems to hit him in that moment that you’re still drunk and under the influence and thus, not in your right state of mind. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He doesn’t think he can handle that.

He lets out a sigh. “If you remember this tomorrow,” He says. “Then we can.”

You start fading again as he takes you out of his car and helps you up the stairs to the correct floor of your apartment, helps your roommate in guiding you into your bedroom, and leaves with a prompt ‘just… take care of her, please…’ with such a sad edge to his voice that Karly gives him a sympathetic pat on the back and a request to drive home safely.

He does, but there is a longing in his chest, a doubt, a warning not to expect too much from this situation.

He loves you too much for the disappointment.

The next morning, he wakes up to surprisingly sunny skies, golden rays, and a text.

from you [7,18am]: Since you miss me and I miss you, can we start over?

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get use to your unpredictability, your determination—and for the first time in months, his smile is brighter than the outside.

#bangtan bookclub #bts writing cafe #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #bts scenario #bts fluff #bts x reader #traci writes

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thisiskatsblog · 5 years ago

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Hi Kat, I often come to seek your wisdom and thoughts on matters such as these because you were the first Larry blog I ever found and the last time I did, you really seemed to understand me and my conflicting emotions and messiness haha. So. My question is what are your thoughts on the Ray and SBB twitter accounts? I found them a few months back when I found a thread explaining a theory of why it's L&H and go back now and again to see what is being posted. I am the darkest Larrie there is, yet

contd: I always prefer to be a cynic because I know just how devastating it is when you put your hope in something only to have it crumbled. And in this fandom, you can't trust anything or anyone unless there is hardcore evidence and proof (aka every millisecond of footage of fetus Larry). There is talk about clues, numbers, iphone/androids and these cryptic riddles and hidden meanings. People do admit in the comments it feels like they're clowning yet I also see thousands resting their hopes contd: on these obscure tweets. I will admit the proof thread I originally read made it seem believable but I then I thought 'who am I kidding, there's no way it could genuinely by H&L'. It doesn't seem like something they would risk, nor something either of them would actually do. It seems like two people baiting Larries and giving us false hope (because in this era where we never get public interaction, many have become far more gullible and willing to believe anything, no matter how far

fetched. Ahh I don't know. It just seems far too good to be true that the two of them are communicating with us through cryptic pictures and riddles and messages. Yes I do believe they both have always found ways to communicate with us, whether it is through songs or body language, because we opened our eyes, we were by their sides and stay strong for them because this is a fight they will win, but I really don't know. It's very cruel if someone is indeed baiting us. Thanks x

(^^^ March 23rd)

2. Anonymous said:

March 25th 2020, 7:06:01 am · a month ago

okay so I just read some master posts explaining RBB and SBB in detail (I didn't get why people were hanging onto every word of Ray and Seymour's tweets like that) and my mind is literally going INSANE trying to process it all. As usual their reactions when asked about it directly on that christmas sweater interview told me all I needed to know back when I watched it but had no idea the sheer significance of these bears until now. It's crazy all the ways L&H showed us the truth all along, to

this day it's just mind-blowing to me. Like they were screaming in the midst of drowning (cough cough Director's Cut), desperate for us to listen and thank God so many of us weren't blind. Sometimes I do feel like maybe I am going crazy or I am delusional for believing in this, as FIMQ said, the cognitive dissonance is real. My mind spirals catastrophically and I doubt my own sanity, and then my mind plays all these touches and glances, slipped words and monumental actions on a loop, far too

much evidence to dispute, and I know I can never go back, how can I, when I've never in my whole life witnessed such magnificent, almost otherworldly love, never cared about any celebrity's love life yet this is far more than that, it is fighting for their love, because they should have never had to be that strong, to endure so much pain, so so young, but they weren't that strong for us to be weak. And I can't wait for the day they are free. No one on this earth deserves it more than L&H.

3. Anonymous said:

March 26th 2020, 12:44:47 pm · a month ago

Even I am the darkest Larrie (and yes there is no going back, ever) sometimes I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. Loving and supporting and fighting so fucking hard for a love that is as tragic and excruciating as it is the most beautiful, magnificent thing I have ever witnessed. I wonder, did I get it all wrong and what if they don't find their way back to each other, my waking moments are haunted by memories of them, so young, so clearly smitten, like who the fuck finds their soulmate at

that age? What if even if it is 'always going to be h for Lou', even if they were 'too young to know they had everything' but h doesn't forgive him or remember that yes, their love is worth it? Sometimes I feel I am teetering on the brink of insanity, what if Lou actually has a kid? And Harry's album was about a horrible woman who never deserved him? I think I'll be strong for them, even if I have to wait ten or twenty years but I also feel so much pain thinking about it all. I have never

doubted my own sanity in my life, but lately I wonder so often if I am delusional for having faith in the love of two boys who we're fated to meet and fall in love. I can't even watch them in their baby boyfriends stage or watch edits anymore because I feel physical pain because they never deserved that. I feel pain thinking about their pain, no one should have to face that so young. To be that strong. I want to be strong yet and I try so hard but i also feel I am going mad. I don't even know.

______________________________

Three anons that I suspect are the same person (and maybe even the same one I just answered). Big hugs to you dear anonymous person! And thanks for the compliment. And the patience. I’m so sorry it took me so long to answer. Not sure if I have anything helpful to say, still, except: the fact that you’ve started doubting your sanity, that cognitive dissonance you feel, that dizzy head nauseous gut feeling you get when what you see and what you hear and what you read, just doesn’t match up but you haven’t been able to rationally unravel it yet. That feeling is probably your best proof that something is very amiss, and that Louis’ and Harry’s relationship is very real. We all know that feeling, and it tends to get worse the more caught up in fandom you get.

Your sanity is worth preserving though, so - in my view - it’s better to leave the fandom for a while, however short, to take care of yourself, and be strong for yourself when you feel like it’s draining you too much. You can do that by physically leaving social media, or by taking emotional, and mental distance on a regular basis.

I always remind myself that I have no influence over whether Louis and Harry eventually make it together. And next to no influence over their careers, management, label. I can decide what I do, and have a wee tiny bit of influence on the modest amount of followers of this blog, and then a wee little bit more through the other one - but all in all, my actions, the person they matter most to, the person they influence most, is me. So I try to do, in life, and in this fandom, the things that make me happy. Worrying, does not make me happy. Arguing with hets rads antis and all the other new abbreviations i don’t really get, doesnt make me happy either - I only do it when I’m having one of those days or one of them really sets me off like the other day. But in general, what makes me happy is focusing on the positive. What this fandom has brought me. And has brought other LGBTQ+ people. What are we learning here, what stories do we tell eachother, how are we making eachother better here.

All of that said: Louis, and Harry, have both sung, in this past year, that they “made it”, and referenced eachother’s music videos in important ways. So I honestly don’t think there’s much to worry about. I think that, whatever was causing them difficulties, they already “found their way back”. I think they are allright.

And I want us to be allright to. That’s something we can influence, that we can do for eachother. So I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you

I enjoyed reading your SBB post, talking about the sweater interview. That part of it was wonderful, and everything we needed to know. I took RBB and SBB with a big grain of salt in the beginning, but I have reason to believe it was them, or someone very close to them, and that interview did confirm that.

With or without permission, that’s difficult to say. Was it queerbaiting? I’ve been asked that question so many times. In a sense noo, because they are LGBTQ+ themselves - but there is the fact that RBB & SSB very deliberately engaged with LGBTQ+ fans and kept them here while they must have known, at least after bullshit 2.0 happened, that they were going to stay closeted.

I don’t know exactly how I feel about that. It was a crazy ride, and some of it was enjoyable, and I think the support is important to them, so I do want to stay around. But I also think it’s shit that LGBTQ+ fans in this fandom have done SO much to support them, and are getting so much shit in return, still, not from them, not at all, but in this environment - and no one is stopping it.

And that’s not just the case in Louis’ fandom, where we’re definitely experiencing enormous amounts of cognitive dissonance with the bearding and babygate. But also in Harry’s. When LGBTQ+ fans bring rainbows night after night, but it’s constantly portrayed as if Harry is the one bringing them, and when it’s LGBTQ+ fans organising to light up arena’s night after night across Europe, but the only time that gets featured is when it’s two straight girls organising it, insisting they are not doing it for queer fans but because we should be one happy family inclusiveness all around.. I can understand the frustration, the impression of queerbaiting, the feeling of being taken for granted, that made some people leave Harry’s fandom. I will stay, I think he’s amazing, and I think he needs and is grateful for the support, but as an LGBTQ+ fan, I still feel like I am in a hostile environment - knowing he is with Louis, and that he cannot speak about it, has never spoken about any concrete relationship with a man. That’s... - that still tells LGBTQ+ people they are not 100% legit.

And that’s probably not a lot better for the straight fans who see what we see: a beautiful relationship they can’t speak about and that’s denied all the time. That, too, tells you your thoughts are not legit, and therefore you are not legit. The gaslighting... it’s probably the most poisonous, detrimental aspect of this fandom. Coming back after more than a year off, I was shocked, at how clear things seemed to me again, compared to how doubtful I had been about my own opinions when I left. Taking time off is not abandoning them. Remember that. For me, it made me stronger, and it allows me to support them now.

So I hope this gets better. Soon. I am still convinced they want that too. And when I start doubting, I listen to Only The Brave...

#doubts #sbb #rbb #cognitive dissonance #gaslighting #Anonymous #ask

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thegeminisage · 5 years ago

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hey liz i've been thinking a lot about story structure lately and i wanted your take on how you decide what structure your stories will have? i know there's that "you have to do what your story needs and tells you to do" thing but these bitches dont ever tell me anything they just multiply so. thoughts? - bma

(as an aside, i don't know whether involving medium would change many things but it may be worth considering. mainly i think medium is just a matter of arrangement and that the story would be for most intents and purposes the same no matter how you choose to tell it. i guess you could argue that structure is arrangement in itself and intrinsically tied to medium but i sort of feel like it is secondary arrangement, if at all? like if you consider time as an element to outline -- the time IN the story (how things happen to your characters) is not necessarily the time you’re telling the story IN (how you are telling your reader that things are happening) aka internal chronology doesnt equal your work’s pacing? or should it??? does this make sense? i dont think so. i am sorry.) - bma :|

NOOO dont be sorry ur making total sense

i think there’s 3 thots to unpack here (medium, structure, & chronology) & i’m gonna start with medium bc it’s easier. im also putting it behind a cut bc it’s gonna get just stupidly long and rambly. i’m sorry in advance if it’s not helpful to you, i have a lot to say for someone who has never taken even one single class on writing and as a result doesn’t know jack shit (there’s a tl;dr at the end dont worry)

about MEDIUM:

so like ok i’m just some goof-off with a HS degree who writes fanfiction but In My Very Super Qualified Personal Opinion, i don’t think that most of the time medium is intrinsically tied to STRUCTURE of the main storytelling arc...i think the art of storytelling itself is distinct from the medium you choose to tell the story IN. this post puts it better than i ever could but basically for me, i feel like the story itself is sort of the raw, malleable concept, and the medium you choose to tell it in is how you convey the information??

like in a book, you can say “she forgot her keys” and in a film you have to show her smacking her forehead, heading back into the house, and swiping her keeps off the counter. you can’t TELL in film, you have to show. similarly i regret every day i cannot perfectly describe a facial expression with words when i see it so clearly in my head. for audio-only podcasts that are dialogue heavy out of necessity you have different limitations than you would for, say, animated music videos with no dialogue at all. games allow for more interactivity and exploration while sacrificing accessibility, tv shows allow for more length while sacrificing, uh, a big hollywood budget...medium affects the kind of story you can reasonably tell which is why some stories are better suited to one medium than another. i think trying things in other mediums is a good way to stretch your storytelling muscles but with enough skill nearly any story could be told in any medium. i think when trying to decide on a medium you just gotta weigh the pros & cons and what you feel comfortable with/what you think would be most effective/what would evoke the strongest reaction

re: structure:

firstly “do what the story tells u to do” is a little silly like...the story isn’t sentient. come on. that’s like “i can only write when the writing gods inspire me” there are no writing gods! inspire yourself! it’s all in our weird messed up brains! ok anyway.

this is, again, just how i do things, and i am 700% self-taught so take it with a grain of salt, but when i sit down and start blocking out a story from scratch i don’t...actually consider the big structure at all! sorry if that’s not helpful to you. i like to make a list of everything i want to happen, and then put it together in a few different orders to see what looks best. and when i’m finished, whatever i have just like...IS the structure i go with, with perhaps minor tinkering to make it flow more smoothly. (i think this might be in the same spirit as “do what the story tells you” with less bullshit and more Agency Of The Writer.)

for long and more complex projects, i actually usually have several lists - one list of stuff that is, for example, the Action Plot (the kingdom has been cursed, i’m tracking down my serial killer sister to bring her to justice, i’m running from djinn who wanna kill my dad, i’m trying to bring my dead not-boyfriend back to life). then i have another list for Character A & Character B’s romance or whatever. and maybe a even another one for solo character development (magicphobic prince learns to love magic, former werewolf hunter figures out his family is a cult, half-demon learns to embrace his own nature). and as many lists as we need for however many Main Characters and or Plots/Sideplots

how i order the lists: individually first. don’t mix them together to start with. when deciding the order of an individual list i like to, for example in a romance arc, use escalating intimacy. “A and B have dinner together” is naturally gonna go way sooner than “A and B kiss” or “A and B talk about A’s angsty backstory” because that’s more satisfying. draw it out, good/important stuff last, dangle that carrot so we have a reason to keep reading! for singular character development, it’s basically a straightforward point A to point B...if i want my guy to start hating magic with everything he is and end up being very comfortable with it, i have to put “reluctantly uses magic to save his own life” WAYYY before “casually using magic to light torches and reheat his cold stew.”

the tricky part for me is when i’m done with these lists and then i need to mix them together To Pace My Whole Story. (this is usually why i wind up with a rainbow colored spreadsheet.) i don’t like to put too many things too close together because then the pace feels uneven. even if my Action Plot is only a thinly veiled excuse for romance and character development, i still don’t want to focus on a romance for 30,000 words and then go “and oh yeah in case you forgot Serial Killing Sister is still coming for your asses.” the more sideplots and major character arcs you’re juggling the harder it is to get an even distribution, which is my main concern always

and like, generally, whatever i have when i’m finished...is my structure. (sorry.)

i don’t know much about the classic 3-act or anything like that, but i usually can divide them up into 3-5 big arcs based on story turning points. sometimes i take a scene out of one arc and put it in another because it fits better and i like for my shit to be organized, but usually by the time i’m finished with all that, that’s what the final story is mostly gonna look like. (there have been a few exceptions when i realized i needed extra scenes/changes while i was MID-DRAFT and let me tell you that murders me EVERY time. it happened on the merlin fic i’m currently posting and that was like my own personal hell.)

this is also where thots about chronology come in:

i think time CAN be an element of this if you WANT it to be, but it doesn’t HAVE to be. if you want it to be, i would consider it just another “list” like character development or the romance arc.

i usually plot without considering Time very much...to me, it’s all down to the events you want to show, and however much time it takes is the byproduct. if you want to show something from a character’s chilhood but then tell the bulk of it when they’re adults, that’s one thing. if you want to show a scene from their childhood, teenhood, young adulthood, etc, that’s a different kind of pacing?? i usually do it this way so i can regard time like wordcount: it takes as long as it takes. 3 days or 3 years, a 1.5k drabble or a 100k epic...overall, my LARGEST CONCERN is that even distribution. in the same way that i don’t want one chapter to be 30,000 words when the rest are 10,000 words, i personally am not a fan of huge timeskips offscreen

(because this where i think someone’s own internal chronology DOES matter...this is just a personal preference, as a reader i have a hard time really comprehending, say, a year timeskip or a 10yr timeskip when all i did was turn one page. like, a year is such a long time. i can’t even begin to describe how different i am now to how i was a year ago. it’s the same for character development. time IS development and as a writer i’m not really comfortable having that take place offscreen - for main characters, at least. it’s just too jarring. a little prologue with something happening 10 or 20 years ago is usually fine, but for the most part, i’m not a fan. ...i can do one chapter per year a lot easier than i can do two chapters in childhood and the other 8 in adulthood. of course you can play with this a LOT with nonlinear storytelling, which is a whole other very cool thing, and someone skilled in their work can keep me sucked in no matter what, but imo if you don’t want to risk throwing your reader out of your work it’s better to keep things steady)

HOWEVER sometimes time IS an element u wanna consider outside of just making sure your shit is evenly distributed...if your heart is moved to tell a story in a specific timeframe, over a year, or from solstice to solstice (this was almost the timeline for my merlin fic and then i changed it), for the first six months of a friendship, or even a huge journey in the span of a single day (toby fox had a lot of success with this one lol).

i think it can help to choose a start and end point for your chronology the same way you do for character development (prince goes from hating magic to being ok with it, story takes place from ages 8 to 25, or from new year’s eve 2038 to 2039, whatever) - that way you can keep your distribution even, if that’s a thing you want to do...even if you have a lot of skips you can still note what happens offscreen to make it work better in your head? like, if you just make it another List, another column on your spreadsheet, when you’re in the early stages of organizing you can be conscious of it and make sure it’s playing into the story the way you want it to

anyway these r my thots im SOOOO SORRY this is so long lmao. brain machine broke today which is why i had to ramble more to explain myself. the tl;dr in case ur brain is melting out of ur ears & u didn’t sign up for an essay:

imo medium is totally distinct from storytelling tho ofc some stories are better suited to some mediums

structure? i don’t know her. i plot w/o regard to structure and then if it looks funny i mush it into a more structurally sound shape

my main concern when structuring anything, including time, is an even distribution of Events and a steady rate of escalation

structure to me is just what i have when i’m finished plotting. i’m sorry one day i’m gonna take a writing class

internal chronology matters to me personally because i have a little bit of time blindness but maybe not to everyone, i know many very successful stories where they disregarded that entirely to no ill effect

writer’s block isn’t real! everyone just needs more rainbow spreadsheets

thank u for asking I HOPE i didn’t make you regret it too badly lmao and that at least a little of it was helpful!!

#personal #liz loves writing #liz answers asks #brit marling anon #i couldn't figure out how to answer u without walking u thru my entire process #so that's what i did and that's why it's so long. very sorry.#im gonna set this up to reblog itself at the time u sent ur ask so that ur sure to see it!!#edit: there was SUPPOSED to be a cut on this but tumblr put it in the ASK?? i can't seem to fix it. rip

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cecilspeaks · 5 years ago

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158 - The Battle for Time

Kasper Rhodes:

The future wants you. The future needs you. The future will have you, whether you want to or not. Welcome to Night Vale.

Kasper Rhodes here, hello. There’s a lot of talk generally and in particular about the future. Everyone’s going on about this or that, rocketships and spires, eternal life and AI, but the future is also soil and leaves. It’s a hand holding a hand, it’s clouds and it’s water and it’s salt. The future is organic as anything. There is still sweat in the future, [chuckles] I’m sweating right now! It’s hot where I am. And I am Kasper Rhodes, president of the Quality Cyborg Corporation, and I can take you away from all this, in the name of the Smiling God. The God that grins down at us all, grinning through our pain and grinning through our joy, just always grinning, just always the smile.

Do any of you believe in anything? I do. I believe in anything at all, I just believe. What a powerful thing it is to believe, to let doubt (--) [0:02:27] off you, [chuckles] just like the sweat.

I have a proposition and it’s also a promise. I will take your brain, and how much were you using it anyway, and I will put it in a robot. And that robot will do wonderful things. That is my promise. And it’s also a proposition. [chuckles] Anyway, we’ll talk more in person, I’m on my way. I’ll see you soon.

[whoosh]

Cecil: (-) am I through? Am I, am I on the air? Am I on the air? I come to you in a time of emergency and panic. We thought we could cheat death. Kasper Rhodes promised to take our brains and freeze them into the future where we could be reawakened into life eternal. But it was all a lie. Kasper is a time traveler here to collect the brains of the past, to power robots of servitude in the future. We were being tricked into an eternal life of manual labor, and now we know the truth and stand against them.

Unfortunately, he has called in reinforcements from the future, and they are those very robots with our brains inside of them. They cannot fight against their programming, and they weep as they crush us, but still they crush us. There are robots patrolling outside of the abandoned grain silo and every other spot in town where the Quality Cryogenics Corporation is storing brains, so we cannot save our fellow citizens from the terror of the future.

(-) [0:04:01]. Kasper worships a Smiling God. I thought we had escaped that cosmic terror but it has returned, and it has come for our minds. Night Vale, I call for resistance. I call for a stand against the future. I muster the present to destroy every moment that comes after. We will never stop fighting, we will never surrender.

Oh, um, ahem, but first. Tickets are going on sale for the Lions Club charity raffle. All proceeds from the raffle will be going of weapons and barricades to be used against the endless onslaught of the future robots piloted by our own brains. So that’s just a great cause. Let’s have a look at the prizes. There’s a package tour to somewhere called Nash-vile. That’s exciting. Uh, the package includes a map showing where Nash-vile is, and a pad of paper on which is scrolled: “You should probably get a hotel room when you get there.” Everything you need for a fun vacation. There are ten free piano lessons from Louie Blasko. He says that piano is a great way to exercise your mind and your creativity, and he promises much fewer injuries this time around. There’s a free haircut and style consultation from Telly the Barber. Uuuuuuuuuugh! Ugh, that vile Telly! Meh, I shouldn’t say that. Carlos has forgiven Telly for cutting his – beautiful hair all those years ago, and so I should too. There are lots of things I should do, and I’m sure I’ll get to them eventually. In the meantime, though: ugh! Vile Telly! Finally, there is the grand prize, which is an all expenses paid trip into the bottomless hole betwixt the dunes, that inexplicable dark pit that appeared a few years ago out in the Sand Wastes. We’re not sure who donated this prize, it just showed up at the Lions Club in a basket that smelled of mud and wet dog. But the winners will have the opportunity, in fact they will be compelled whether they want to or not, to leap into the bottomless hole betwixt the dunes. This is all expenses paid. I’m not sure what expenses there are to jumping into a bottomless hole but in any case, they’re covered. Raffle tickets are only 5 dollars and can be purchased at the Lions Club or by whispering into any crack in any wall. And again, proceeds go to saving us from the robot army, so please do buy a few.

[whoosh]

Kasper Rhodes: There’s a lot of talk generally an in particular about pain. “Oh, I’m in pain,” many say, “Oh, this pain is the worst I’ve ever felt,” many say. Many just scream and that’s understandable, I’d scream too if I could, but you can’t scream with a smile. That’s one of the laws of the Smiling God. I believe in laws. But then, I believe in anything.

Have you ever had rock candy? Who even thought up something so useless as these crystalline sugar lumps? What point is there to any of this, when rock candy is the kind of thing that we as humans apparently are up to? Generally, also in particular. But what I’m talking about is, what point is there to rock candy? And what I’m also asking is, what point is there to you? But I can provide a point, at you anyway. Wouldn’t that be nice for once? And don’t we want it to be nice for once, just once before we go? I’m talking here about purpose, and I have more purpose than I need. You have less purpose than you want. Let’s meet in the middle, and there in the middle, I will take your brain. Believe in the Smiling God and why not? I do.

[whoosh, high-pitched noises]

Cecil: [distorted] Night Vale, we will fight! [normal] Night Vale, we will win! The night may be long, but inevitably comes the dawn. Especially now that time works correctly here. Tamika Flynn has gathered her militia, who have aged to the point where they are no longer teenagers. It was kind of cute, a local friendly teenage militia, but now they’re just a militia, which is less cute. But definitely good to have on our side in this struggle. They are currently pelting the robots with stones but – ah, the robots’ metal frames are impervious to such attacks. Oh, this is so worrying! Josh Crayton, local shapeshifter, has resumed the form of a waterfall in an attempt to short out the electronics of the robot army. Unfortunately it appears that their bodies are water resistant and perhaps even waterproof, and so they are simply walking past him like he isn’t there. Josh, maybe some other form? Oh, OK, OK, Josh has panicked and accidentally taken the form of a 1970’s style avocado green galley kitchen. Oh, Josh, this will not be helpful at all.

“We’re going about this fight all wrong!” said Lenny Butler, who has no official bona fides on military tactics, but considered himself an aficionado of rowdy boys really taking it to each other on the battlefield. Lenny continued: “What we want to do is fight them!” When asked what that meant, he shrugged and (-) [0:09:47] irritably. “I know what it means!” he said. “I’m not gonna waste time explaining it to you, just like, flank them!”

Other towns have been forced to join the fight, as the robots are sweeping through the entire area. The ghosts of Pine Cliff have enthusiastically entered the fray. Unfortunately, of course, ghosts cannot physically affect our world, and so they are just hovering back and forth through the robots. But good hussle out there!

Citizens of the Whispering Forest muttered warm compliments to the robots in an attempt to simulate them into their tree forms, but robots are immune to compliments, as they’re only able to think as highly of themselves as they are programmed to do. Oh no, nothing is working! Ugh. Well, this seems like as good a time as any to talk about survival tips. The first thing to consider is your water source. Now, your body is 60 per cent water, so that seems like enough, let’s move on. Next, you will want to consider food. Stuck up on essentials like canned peas, easily stored grains, and those little bags of baby carrots which are just big carrots carved into small spaces and called babies. Which his not how babies are made. This is not what the word “baby” means. Anyway, if you find yourself in an emergency situation without enough food, consider expanding your definition of the word “food”. For instance, theoretically, you could eat a desk if you tried hard enough. Maybe the problem isn’t a lack of food, but lack of motivation on your part. Finally ,look for shelter. This one is easy, there are houses and buildings everywhere and you can just go into them. Some of them will be locked, they might even have people inside who say things like: “What are you doing in my house?” and: “You can’t be in here, this is the stock room of an Arby’s!” But don’t let naysayers like that get you down. This has been, survival tips.

[whoosh]

Kasper: There is a lot of talk generally and in particular about triumph. “We are winning,” a person might say. “We will defeat you,” a person might crow as the town falls in supplication around him. “You will all be taken to the future!” that person might continue. “You will be made useful.” And isn’t that wonderful? To be made useful? Isn’t that the best thing a person can be? I think so. It doesn’t matter what you think, [chuckles] it turns out you never did. It’s so impersonal chatting over the phone, es-especially since you haven’t been picking up. It seems rude, your refusal to listen to me, but-but I don’t mind. After all, it’s hard to begrudge you your last minutes of human freedom. Tell you what, tell you what, I’ll head over and collect you myself. Wouldn’t that be nice? For me, I mean, again it doesn’t matter what it is for you, it turns out it never did. OK, [distorted] see you soon, bye bye!

[whoosh]

Cecil: Give me back my radio frequency! Oh, I… Am I, I think I’m back on. Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Well, I’ll talk whether you can hear me or not. More robots are pouring out of the time vortexes. The vorteces, vortes.. vorces.. vort-vortex-eses. Whatever they are. Thousands of robots are coming out and this is too much, we can never defeat all of them! The robots are marching to Kasper Rhodes’ army that was already here and they are… Listeners, they are fighting them. These new robots are fighting on our side. At their head is the one I recognize as containing the brain of Charlie Bair, the dayshift manager at the Ralphs, and he’s [huffing] he is announcing that some of the robots have broken free of their programming, that they have found a way to manipulate the metal body they were trapped in, and they have come back to help us prevent this all from happening. And the present day human Charlie Bair is running up to join his future metal counterpart. Night Vale, out on that battlefield is a robot which contains your brain! Find that robot and help it fight, or fight it, depending o n which side it’s on. Together, with ourselves, we can win this. There is still hope. There is always hope. There is also always The weather.

[“Sugar Neighbors” by Dane Terry https://www.thedaneterry.com]

Together, us and us, our own selves and our robot selves, we rushed against Kasper Rhodes, more and more of his robots broke free of their programming and joined us. Tamika and her militia were now Tamikas and their militias, and the intimidation factor was through the roof. This whole time, we just had to trust ourselves. [chuckles] And also have versions of ourselves that were embedded in super strong metal bodies. That was all it took this whole time to be victorious. Charlie Bair the human stood shoulder to shoulder with Charlie Bair the robot, and both fought valiantly. Josh Crayton took the form of a chainsaw, which was then wielded by Josh Crayton’s brain in a robot body to glorious and gory effect. It did not take long for the tides to turn. Sometimes, once the balance shifts, it shifts as quickly and definitively as a broken elevator plunging down a shaft. And then, Kasper Rhodes himself finally fell. Whether it was the stones cast by the Tamikas, or the fists of the Charlies, or Josh the chainsaw wielded by Josh the robot, I cannot say. In the chaos of battle, individual human action becomes indistinct, but the fact of Kasper’s death is indisputable. And in that moment he fell, every robot slumped into stillness, because time had changed. Kasper never took our brains when we died and used them in robots of the future, and because of that, every one of those robots no longer had a brain in them. They were empty shells. We carried those empty shelves with affection and care to Grove Park, where they would be sorted for parts and the resulting scrap metal used to fix the massive amount of damage done to town by this battle.

We kept one robot, though, just one. The scrawniest one with the most rusted joints and Pamela Winchell, who has been reading books on hobbyist surgery, removed Kasper’s brain from his still warm body and placed it in that robot, and the robot came to life in a panic. “Don’t worry,” we told Kasper the robot, “we’re not going to hurt you! We’re just putting you to work for the Miriam McDonald memorial fund. You will clean up the sand from the Sand Wastes until all the sand is gone. We don’t know how long that will take, it may take forever. Good luck!” And even now, a lone robot with a broom sweeps sand out of the desert. Hm. A fitting end for an unfit man.

[sighs in relief] Now there is only us, and the returned reality of our aging. And our death. I have come to think that Carlos was right. There is nothing more scientific than death. We fear it, reasonably, because it is a thing we can never know, perhaps not even when we experience it. But it is not worth perverting our lives, changing everything about ourselves just to avoid our natural ends. New generations will come. New people will live. And like everyone before us, we will gracefully exit to make room for those coming after. As the old saying goes: “Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you.” [laughs] This is not a story about you! And you were glad, because it would be boring if every story was.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Every friend group has a joyful chasm. If you do not know who the joyful chasm is, then I have news for you: you are the joyful chasm.

[post credits segment]

Kasper: There’s a lot of talk generally and in particular. So many words. Oh man. Oooh maannn. Ugh, oh! [chuckles] This is not how. It isn’t. Was it? But it’s what’s left of me. Oh, it’s quiet in here at least. I can’t feel the smile anymore. (--) [0:25:49] that smile. In here, it is quiet and dark. My metal body moves, but my brain is still. I like it in here. [shivers] Nooo-oooo! That smile! The- the smile has appeared. Oh, oh God, y- you don’t understand! The smile is in here with me. [distorted noise, discordant music rises, then fades out]

#welcome to night vale #wtnv transcripts #episode 158 #the battle for time

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kiercorp · 5 years ago

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Markus’ Backstory Master Post

Yesterday was Markus’ birthday so I figured it was the perfect time to piece together his back story based on what Nahal basically confirmed for us. Along with hints from his back story dream in “The Storm”, his visions in the wizard tower, the song “Ballad of Markus Velafi”, and the back story told to us in “The Campfire” episode. I’m trained to write things like history essays I apologize for that format ahead of time.

But before we begin it is important to remember that Markus has admitted to lying and stretching the truth when talking about his past. From what I’ve gathered he doesn’t blatantly lie about his past instead, he lies through omission of details. Which Ashe also admits to doing when she tells her back story in the campfire episode. Therefore even though Ashe questions how much of his story is true. We can at the very least trust that what he says did happen even if he didn’t tell us everything that happened. But only when it comes to Markus telling the story. The Ballad of Markus Velafi should be taken with a grain of salt since it’s clearly a fantasized version of the story.

I’m going to tell the events of his back story in the chronological order that they happened. Not in the order, they were told to us. Yes, this means we’ll jump around with what evidence is where. But I feel like it’s the easiest way to tell it. There are some areas that are speculation but most of this is alluded to in canon. The very end might be spoilers for where Markus’ plot is going in the future. But it’s mostly theories on my part. The rest is under a read more because I wrote way too much. 1,500 words actually.

First we start at the very beginning. He was born and as the Ballad of Markus, Velafi says half tiefling and half not. Originally that would lead to the assumption that one of his parents was a demon and the other human. But Markus confirmed that his dad’s line had been serving the royal line for generations as tieflings. Then One in “God’s are Gone” confirms again that it was Markus’ ancestors that made the pack with Demons and that Markus’ demon blood is actually incredibly deluded. So when he says the line half Demon man he means half tiefling, not half demon half human. That leaves the other half of his family line completely unknown. With the easiest answer being that his mother was just a human. But in the campfire episode, he intentionally skips around his mother. Stating “I can talk about my mother another time”. If she’s dead there’s no reason for talk of his mother to be a completely different story.

Until what we got in the most recent ep the assumption was human and the theory was celestial. Nahal states that he smells Royal and Markus repeats the line he said to Ashe all the way back in the campfire episode. He’s not royal; he’s royal adjacent or almost royalty. Nahal then drops the name of the Royal group she thought he smelled like, Aasimar. Aasimar’s are angels (Don’t know if that needs to be explained or not.) which checks out with Markus’ admittance that the Royals were celestial in nature. But that’s not the point. The point is we all know a scent that “rubbed off on him” wouldn’t stick around to the present which is 20 years later. Especially when Ashe on multiple occasions has mentioned the brimstone smell that is always on him. The only way the Aasimar scent would still be coming off of him was if he was making it himself and it was just covered up to most people by the smell of brimstone.

So that’s all the new stuff which is just confirming a theory people have had for a while. Now it’s time to connect it to all the other parts of his story. Starting with his mom! In the campfire episode, he actively skips over her and focuses’ on his father even though by his own admission his dad was rarely around. Mostly because of his dad’s work and also because this would have been the time when Markus was sent away to “wizard high school” aka boarding school. To be half Aasimar his mother would have been one of the royals. It would have made Markus’ birth a scandalous affair. If not for that fact that it was clearly covered up. He grew up with his dad and the servant’s most likely being told his mother was dead. And when Markus’ uncontrollable magic, that was clearly stronger than an average tiefling, showed up he was sent to wizard high school to learn to control it. Markus is clearly now aware that his magic is stronger than the average well anyone. It’s where the label “sorcerlock” comes from. As well as his reading of Nahal in the most recent episode.

At some point when he’s younger, Markus labels the age “around 12”. His father sits him down to explain why it’s important they serve the royal family. Knowing that his Dad had been and might still be in a secret relationship with one of them explains what his father said. “True fulfillment comes only through obedience and servitude to something greater than yourself.” It’s the only quote from the conversation Markus remembers. To Markus, it left a bad taste in his mouth that he remembers to this day. To his father, it was probably the only way he could keep his little broken family together. As long as he and Markus kept their heads down and served the royal family. He’d be able to stay near the love of his life. Assuming she wasn’t dead.

Meeting Silverfish in the woods most likely happened before he went off to school. Since little Markus makes no reference to magic. But he does tell the ironic lie that he’s a prince from a nearby kingdom. Because of Ashe and Gregor’s meddling, it’s impossible to tell how much of their part of the dream actually happened. I do believe Markus and Silverfish ran into a hunter and Markus convinced said hunter to help with the promise of getting paid. Of course, said hunter wasn’t paid and Markus ran away from them. It would have been the first time he put on a fake persona. The origin of Morkass Velafmor if you will.

Markus is sent to Wizard High school for the rest of his teen years. Some of his fear of high school is played up for laughs. But I do believe he struggled. The restrictions imposed on Inien’s type of magic would have made a very awkward learning environment for someone with basically unlimited magical reserves. He does eventually get a handle on his magic most likely through his own private studies. Once done with his schooling he returns to Tannhauser.

Upon his return he starts taking over his father’s duties as he was chosen to do. He does well in the position and gains the king’s trust. Then, of course, the big night happens. The king gets drunk and Markus escorts the King to his room alone. Markus learns two things that night. First is what he told the group at the campfire. The family line currently on the throne was not the original royal line. This truth shakes him, but it’s not the reason he left.

Markus learns of a second cover-up, all about him. He learns that his mother is part of the royal family either the king’s sister or daughter, depending on how old this king was. He was old enough that Markus was being trained to serve the next king and not this current king. He learns that even if he’s the oldest heir his half breed status would keep him from the throne. He also puts together that the king he’s being trained to serve is either his younger half brother or younger cousin. Which explains why Markus, Matt, and Jay all compare Markus to viziers. The head adviser to the king usually had some family relation to the king. It’s where the evil uncle stealing the throne from the young prince trope comes from. Young Markus literally reads a book about a Vizier that gets away with it in his flashback dream.

Learning this truth leaves Markus with a choice. The choice he tells Ashe. He can reveal the lie and along the way put himself on the throne or he can leave. This part is even in the Ballad of Markus Velafi. “This mountain that I’ve summited I’ve fallen from by choice.” He “laid siege to the gods” and was at the top. He easily could have taken the thrown either legitimately if he’s the oldest or illegitimately by causing another coop and “leading” the servants to revolution. Them never putting together that he was related to the royals they were overthrowing. But he chose to throw it all away. He left and never turned back.

Now it’s many years later. His father and the King are certainly dead and the current king is a younger relative of his. Wither that king knows of Markus’ relation to him depends on if the Tannhausers are showing up in TI anytime soon. And with multiple new characters referencing Tannhauser or straight up saying they’re from there. It’s incredibly likely we’ll get more of Markus’ story very soon.

So yeah that’s where we are. Markus is half demon half angel and now we just need to wait for the others to put it together. I do wonder if the Celestial part is why his demon form is more colorful then One’s. It would also explain the invisible barrier that protected him along with his little demon wings when Ashe attacked him in the dream. There’s also the fact that Matt has admitted that Markus does a glamour spell 24/7. I’ve always seen glamour as a more light affiliated spell. It’s an illusion that affects what people see by changing what light shows basically. Who knows but I’m really excited to see what’s coming!

PS. thank you for reading all this. Sorry, again it’s so long.

#thrilling intent #Markus Velafi

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in-her-broomcloset · 6 years ago

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Addressing Recent Discourse

My apologies to mobile users for the length of this post.

Here are the posts in question. I’ve linked the originals, you can surf the notes.

These are the statements I’ll be addressing:

“Politics is not above metaphysics.”

“Just because you don’t “ever suggest” something doesn’t mean it does not work or is not capable of working.”

“if you want to influence everyone who votes, there is a way to generate enough energy: believe in your spellwork, call upon strong ass deities or spirits, call on the elements and the Earth, align all of your corresponding herbs/crystals/tools, and cast the fucking spell. ... You don’t just send it out into the world and hope its self-sufficient enough to keep the energy going. Go back and re-work it, keep adding your energy to it, work on it everyday and dedicate yourself to its success.”

“The physical realm, first of all, is comprised of matter, and matter is just condensed energy. Our spirits are partially contained within condensed energy casings which we tend to call our “selves” or our bodies.”

“you’re thinking of politics as an idea, but not what it actually is. ... Politics is a word, okay? It is made by and given meaning by people. ... So the root of this issue is people, not some word invented by people. ... And people are not beyond being influenced by magick, because magick deals with energy and will, and people are just layers of energy in varying densities.”

“Magick cast in such a broad net, is bound to be spread too thin, especially if it’s just one person or coven”

“I knew we agreed on the difficulties mass spells have that go along with them. (A) I don't agree with politics being outside magick's influence. (B) I don't agree with magick not affecting the physical realm. (C) I don't agree with magick dealing only with the subconscious. (D) I don’t agree with telling witches that something absolutely won’t work. (E) I don’t agree with not putting forth the reason behind an answer you’ve provided to a question and instead just saying it won’t work over and over.”

And the kicker: “If you think that magick produces no real results in the “physical” realm, why are you doing magick? Why do you practice witchcraft if you don’t even believe in the basic fundamentals of magick? Because what you’re saying here is that you believe magick is about tricking your subconscious to believe in your ability to control an outcome or situation without any tangible results. So explain it to me. What are you doing in your practice where you think that magick doesn’t apply to the physical realm? Because I am trying to understand this right now. You have all of these followers and listeners looking to you for advice and guidance, and you’re telling them that witchcraft isn’t going to change anything for them. It can’t even change a fucking word. A word.”

These are my responses:

I disagree. The fact that we disagree does not matter at all since we practice witchcraft separately and neither of us are trying to dictate the other’s actual craft. But I will share why I believe an individual or small group cannot use magick to influence politics in responses #5 & #6.

True and correct. I gave my advice due to the converse reason. It wasn’t “this won’t work because I said so.” What I intended to say was “I don’t suggest it because I don’t think it‘s effective because of how I understand magick to work.” But anyone who disagrees is free to ignore me.

Very good advice for every witch regarding any spell. However, you contradict yourself later to say that you can’t successfully influence everyone who votes. At this point it doesn’t mater to me what your stance is on that

True. Everything is composed of matter. Everything is composed of and radiates energy. Our bodies/vessels/shells/casings are included in that.

I don’t appreciate boiling down an entire social structure into “a word” because you can do that to anything. Justice is just a word. Equal is just a word. Dictator is just a word. But they hold meaning and it is important to attach the idea to the word. Otherwise our whole language and society is useless and left without structure. I’m confused because you kind of contradict yourself by saying politics is just a word but it’s also about people. I agree that politics is about people. It’s primarily about the government system and the people who make up the government, along with the citizens affected. The Ask in question asked about influencing the outcome of elections. You can do that by either A) forcing the majority to vote a certain way B) rigging the elections through voting machines or government officials C) causing the government to override the popular vote. We as citizens can’t do a single one of these physically. Because the government holds too much power over citizens. It’s not a fair or completely logical system due to the amount of corruption within the world of politics. You can’t fix corruption with magick. You can’t cure greed or malice or spite through magick. You can’t cure politicians. The same way you can’t turn me into a (insert opposing political party here) with a spell, you can’t change the minds of politicians with a spell from an individual. We can barely do it through individual physical actions. You would need a LOT of support.

I agree wholeheartedly and is the major reason why I feel politics cannot be influenced by magick. Politics = government = many many many individuals, corrupt individuals. You can’t harness enough energy to make a noticeable change amongst ALL these people. You would need a whole nation of citizens to do that. And at that point, if you have that kind of support, why rely on magick! Just take political action. Also I’d like to point out that politics should be taken very seriously at this time across all nations and we should be doing as much as we can to make a change for the better. Magick is a passive act when it comes to politics. We need to be ACTIVE. Casting spells won’t hurt but it’s just not enough. I will always stand by this.

There’s a lot to unpack here. A) Agree to disagree. In theory you could target your intentions at a specific politician, but if you don’t have a taglock for them or have never met them or had contact with them, it decreases the possibility for it to be effective. Not impossible!! But less likely B) I said “magick doesn’t work in the physical realm” and that is entirely different than “it doesn’t affect the physical realm.” We only know that our magick was successful when it manifests and does affect the physical world! What I meant by my original phrase is that the process of magick, sending out your desires into the universe in the hopes that they manifest, is done energetically with the use of physical tools and our vessels (physical bodies). We can’t SEE magick. We can only physically see our actions and hopefully our results. It’s exactly like electricity. We can’t see it! We can only see its physical manifestations (electronics, lightning, etc.) C) Again, it doesn’t affect our physical bodies. Just like vitamins, magick doesn’t miraculously cure our ailments. It can only aid in the process. You can cast a motivation spell to increase your productivity. If successful, you’ve affected your subconscious by giving it a goal to strive for. Your physical body will then follow as a result or effect. Your magick didn’t jump into the physical realm to eliminate your ADHD. It worked through your subconscious and energy. D) I don’t regret telling someone my advice. It wasn’t intended to be law. All advice should be taken with a grain of salt. The seeker of the advice is always free to do WHATEVER the fuck they want anyway. E) I see why not immediately supporting my statement was frustrating. But to be honest I just had better things to do first. I’m not as passionately invested in this as you. That might not be apparent by how long my responses have been, but that’s just because you added so many false annotations to my very short statements and mistook a lot of what i said. After this I am done. I’m confident that I’ve said everything I can on the matter.

To reiterate: I do wholeheartedly believe that magick renders results in the physical realm. It is the workings of the magick itself before results are seen that doesn’t take place in the physical realm. That’s the part that affects energy and the subconscious. Please do not misconstrue my words as strongly as you did anymore. I am simply driven by logic. I carry a healthy dose of skepticism with my in my craft to weed out what I find to be ineffective. However, my skepticism never becomes cynicism. I’m driven by logic and feel most comfortable practicing and sharing only what makes sense to me based on logical analysis. Sometimes disagreements happen. I don’t care. If I am asked for advice I will give it because I assume the seeker knows that I know I’m not God or think I’m preaching the Laws.

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shireness-says · 6 years ago

Text

Playing the Part ch. 8: Before the Parade Passes By

Summary: As a stage manager who’s clawed her way up from bottom, Emma Swan can handle just about anything thrown her way. But does that include handsome lead actor Killian Jones? A CS Broadway AU. Rated T. Also on AO3. Prologue Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7

A/N: Thanksgiving has come early! For the readers, at least. I definitely don’t know anything about parade set-up, so take this with many grains of salt, please.

Chapter title taken from “Hello, Dolly!”

Just to reiterate, this is a Slow Burn. I know we’re all anxious for Emma and Killian to get together, but Emma’s still hesitant since they work together - and especially since she holds a position of some power over him. Plus, her ex keeps reminding her how men are dicks. Hang in there, guys - there is a plan, and the plan is for 20 chapters (unless I accidentally add more again) with a happy ending. We will get there.

Special thanks to @snidgetsafan, always the best beta ever, as well as to @distant-rose for telling me all about New York bowling alleys so I could add in a tiny reference. You guys are my favorites, don’t tell anyone.

Tags: @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @thejollyroger-writer, @mythologicalmango, @onceuponaprincessworld, @idristardis, @teamhook, @courtorderedcake, @aerica13, @revanmeetra87, @snowbellewells, @searchingwardrobes. If you want to be tagged going forward (or taken off this list - I won’t be insulted!), shoot me a message, and I’ll make it happen.

Enjoy! Let me know what you think. :)

Henry’s birthday this year falls conveniently three days before Thanksgiving, on a dark Monday when there’s no show to pull Emma away from her kid. Well, that’s not strictly true; she has to go in for a few hours so everyone can rehearse their parade performance, but that should start after he goes to school and wrap up before he gets out. It’s not like they’re doing new choreography or anything, just making sure everything is as polished as possible. Regardless, work won’t be keeping her from her kid on his birthday, and she’s grateful for that.

Henry’s birthday party was yesterday, Sunday - 6 boys and 2 girls at the Lucky Strike for bowling, a perennial hit - but Granny’s hosting a family birthday dinner at the diner with Ruby, Mary Margaret and Elsa. It’s a long-standing tradition, and every year Granny makes all of Henry’s favorite foods and a big, gooey chocolate cake as everyone showers the birthday boy with more love than he can handle. Honestly, Neal can stick his bullshit about “real family dinners” up his ass - Henry’s got the best aunts imaginable and Granny’s been there since he was born. If you ask Emma, that’s all the family the two of them need.

It’s so hard to believe that it’s been eleven years since Henry was born. She still remembers his tiny, wrinkly red face like it was yesterday - this little, precious baby, the first thing that was truly hers. Now he’s half grown, his own person, smart as hell and sweet to boot. He’s growing so fast, she can’t help but think as she watches him practically inhale a stack of chocolate chip pancakes, his requested birthday breakfast, and talking a mile a minute in a recap of his party yesterday. Where has the time gone?

Emma remains in an introspective mood much of the day, thinking back on when her little boy was younger. God, he was so cute - not that he isn’t now, but there’s something about that gap-toothed look that was especially endearing. It keeps her distracted at work, but thankfully, there’s not much that requires her undivided attention. Her cast is just running their choreography for Thursday - the opening number, “In Want of a Wife”, should be a hit, Emma thinks - so she takes the opportunity to re-pencil some of the cues in her script that have gotten smudged over weeks of opening and closing the pages. If she has trouble focusing on that, it’s not such a big deal.

The hours fly by, much to Emma’s surprise, and before she knows it, they’re packing up to leave. Emma just needs to send out a detailed itinerary for Thursday, probably print out a stack for good measure, but then she’s free for the rest of the day and can actually pick her kid up from school for once. That’ll be a nice change of pace. Just as she’s making the final edits to her email, she’s startled by Killian’s sudden appearance.

“Fuck, you scared me,” she mutters, eliciting an embarrassed chuckle from Killian to match his suddenly pink-tinged cheeks and the signature scratching behind his ear.

“My apologies, love,” he smiles. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just hoping you might give this to Henry,” he explains further, thrusting a carefully gift-wrapped package in Emma’s direction.

Emma raises an eyebrow in question. It’s sweet of him, and certainly generous, but also a little weird that one of her coworkers is sending gifts home for her kid - even if he and said kid are, admittedly, friends-ish. “Should I be concerned about this?”

“Oh no! I don’t think so, at least. It’s just a notebook. For him to write in? I’ve heard so much about how he likes writing and wants to be a playwright, I just thought this would be a nice place to write all those thoughts down,” he babbles. Emma thinks she can detect a thread of nerves in his voice. “Of course, if you think I’m overstepping, that’s completely fine, it was just an idea, the lad had mentioned that it was his birthday and I just thought — ”

“No, that’s fine,” Emma replies, suddenly resolute despite her earlier confusion. Killian means well, and honestly, that is kind of the perfect gift for Henry. “I’m sure he’ll love it. Thanks.”

“Ah, well, it wasn’t a bother in the least,” he deflects, the pink cheeks making a reappearance in a sudden attack of bashfulness.

“Killian. You got a gift for my son. Let me say thank you. Now, what do you say when someone thanks you?”

“You’re welcome,” he parrots back.

“Well done.” While her words could have been taken in a patronizing manner, Jones still grins at her, seemingly pleased with their banter (despite the fact that it isn’t the first time they’ve had this kind of back and forth - or at least Emma doesn’t think so). “Ok, well, I’ve got to meet the birthday boy at school,” she concludes, jerking a thumb towards the general not-here, “but I’ll make sure he gets your gift and knows it’s from you.”

“Thank you, Swan. And a happy birthday to Henry!”

———

Henry loves the notebook, of course, telling Emma all about all the stories he intends to write in it. She suspects that Killian will receive the same treatment the next time Henry sees him as well.

The days between Monday and Thursday pass faster than Emma ever thought possible, so fast she wonders in passing whether they ever happened at all - though if her notepads are any indication, they certainly did. Thanksgiving dawns bright and clear but cold, pulling Emma out of her bed earlier than she wants. That’s fine, though; she didn’t really sleep much the night before, too busy running through lists in her head of everything that could go right and especially everything that could go wrong. It doesn’t help that she’d had a late night before she climbed into bed either, having trekked from the theater to Macy’s with the stuff they’ll need for the parade. There’s just a chair and a couple of hedges - not to mention the racks of costumes and boxes of wigs carefully supervised by the costume department - but this gives her a chance as well to check out the space set aside for the cast to get ready. Not to mention, Emma would much rather deal with transport the night before than fighting through the madness Thanksgiving morning. It’s going to be enough of a pain getting to Macy’s this morning with all the crowds milling about; there’s no way in hell she would willingly add bulky equipment to that mix.

The good news is that Henry’s so excited about the whole affair that he all but flies out of bed without needing to be nagged like she’d have to on a regular school day. It’s probably a mistake to give him a pack of pop-tarts for breakfast - lord knows he doesn’t need the extra sugar rush on top of his already excessive energy level. But they’re in a rush today, and she doesn’t have time for much else, not even a bowl of cereal. Robin doesn’t have to work today - performing outdoors for tv crews doesn’t leave much need for a lighting technician and designer - but he’s there with Roland anyways in the section set aside for production members if they want it, and he agreed previously to keep an eye on Henry while Emma works. Hopefully he doesn’t come to regret that.

Emma figures she’ll get to Macy’s before anyone else, but Belle’s already inside, practically vibrating with nervous excitement, and Emma spots Ruby helping a few of the chorus members with their wigs. Though Belle’s still in her street clothes, her hair and makeup are already done, leaving Emma to wonder exactly how long the brunette has been here.

“You alright?” she asks, more in amusement than genuine concern. Belle’s a trooper; Emma has full confidence that whatever nerves are playing through Belle’s head right now, she’ll power through like the pro she is. Still, it feels like the thing to ask when you find a key player in your production bouncing on the balls of her feet like an Easter rabbit who showed up for the wrong holiday.

Belle whips around, eyes blown wide with surprise at Emma’s little interruption. Too late, Emma realizes that their Elizabeth must have been lost in her own little world, and was likely given quite a shock. As Emma pulls a contrite face, Belle’s own visage softens into a slightly embarrassed smile.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” Belle assures. “This is mostly excitement, I promise.”

Emma throws her hands up in the universal sign for backing off. “I can understand that. Just wanted to make sure. Walking in you looked at little…”

“On edge?” Belle offers. “There’s a hint of that as well.”

Emma laughs. “Well that’s fine too.”

“It really struck me last night what an institution this is,” Belle elaborates, hastily adding “And I’m thrilled to be a part of it! But it was a little… daunting, remembering that legacy. And we’re going to be part of that, after today,” she concludes, voice echoing with traces of awe.

“Oh, don’t I know it,” Emma replies, before making an attempt to lighten the conversation. “You should see Henry outside, he’s ecstatic. It’s been helping my nerves a bit, honestly,” she admits, “seeing how excited he is, his conviction that we’re going to be the stars of the whole thing.”

“He’s a good kid,” Belle smiles back. “You’ve raised him well.”

Even if it’s true, even if it fills her with a glowing pride that’s reserved especially for Henry, Emma never knows how to respond to such a compliment, so she deflects. “Yeah, well, he’s right outside with Robin and Roland and a disgusting amount of bagels if you want to borrow him. Steal a little bit of that confidence for yourself, if you need it.”

Belle laughs, seemingly accepting the words as they were intended - an emotional de-escalator. “I just might have to. At the very least, I should go say hi. Right outside, you said?”

“Yep, to the left near the heaters. He’ll be the one talking a million miles a minute.”

“Should be easy enough to find,” Belle twinkles back, offering a final wave as she heads to presumedly find her coat before setting foot beyond the doors.

From there, it’s a blur of preparations and quieting mini-crises that turn out not to be the end of the world. Honestly, her file box is filled with so many random odds and ends at this point, but it’s days like today, where everyone’s common sense and operational memory is clouded by nerves, that those things pay off. Even if it’s her first time at the parade, this isn’t her first rodeo; she’s learned a few things over the years, and how to prepare for so-called disasters is one of them.

Truthfully, she had expected to be talking Jones down from another breakdown the whole while, but he’s surprisingly cool as a cucumber, acting like none of it affects him in the least. Someone ought to be, at least, because Emma is internally freaking out a little bit - not over the actual mechanics of the performance, but over the knowledge of what a cultural institution they’re about to be a part of. It adds a certain amount of pressure, and even if Emma is confident that they can shoulder it with ease, she still feels the weight on all their shoulders.

Miraculously, the performance actually goes well. In fact, if Emma were to borrow a few of Killian’s fancy words, she might say that they pulled it off with aplomb. “In Want of a Wife” isn’t Emma’s favorite number - she prefers the ballroom scenes with their intricate whirling that shows off the costuming so well - but it’s a great introductory bit, and gives a great peek of the characters the audience will come to love, hate, and everything in between. The cast is in particularly fine form this morning; Emma can see Killian shift into Darcy’s uptight persona the moment the makeshift stage is in sight, and Belle exudes the perfect believable combination of curiosity and exasperation at the scheming of Mrs. Bennet and the Meryton neighborhood as a whole. Yes, there’s a few pitch issues - nothing major or particularly egregious, just the normal effects you’d find in temperatures barely above freezing - but overall, she’s quite pleased with their efforts.

Without cues to call or crew members to direct, Emma’s left without much to do during the performance itself. She’s already seen the show countless times, and will likely do so countless times more, so she instead takes the opportunity to find Henry in the crowd to watch his reactions to the action in front of him. In short, Henry looks enthralled, pointing out things to Roland as the four-year-old bounces with an energy only preschoolers can maintain. Emma longingly thinks in passing that she’d love to hear what Henry is saying, but reassures herself with the knowledge that she’ll likely get the full replay when she meets up with him afterwards.

In the meantime, she’ll turn her mind to the work still to come.

———

Well done, little brother! his phone reads when Killian retrieves his street clothes, accompanied by an array of celebratory emojis. Killian’s heart swells with pride at his brother's words, even if he does slightly regret introducing the old man to emojis. Lord knows he’ll never get a plain normal text message again.

There had been a general awareness, in the middle of the singing and choreography and concentrating on being as impressive as possible while also frowning ferociously, of the spectacle of the whole thing. Killian had been aware that the roaring sound was the crowd, not just the blood rushing through his ears, though he hadn’t focused on it at the time, too concerned with hitting his marks to allow himself to process much else.

Now though, as he goes to exit the department store and is faced with the full force of the crowd, it’s astounding. It seems the citizens of New York - and likely half the country to boot - have turned out in force, forming a mass of people exuding an almost palpable energy of excitement. It stops him in his tracks for a moment, right outside the revolving door with little awareness of the chill biting his ears.

He’s no idea how long he stands there, really, before he’s suddenly startled out of his shocked trance by a shockingly close voice, jaw snapping shut with a clack.

“Hey, Earth to Killian,” Emma grins. “Did you get lost in there?”

“Aye, maybe a little,” Killian admits with a chuckle. “I didn’t hear you come up.”

“Sorry if I scared you, I’ve been doing that today without meaning it.”

“It’s fine, Swan,” he waves her off. “Did you need something?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” she says, shaking her head in a hasty denial. “You just looked stuck there. Stuck and struck, if you want to play with words.”

“Oh, I think we both know how I feel about playing with words,” he winks.

Emma rolls her eyes, but also bumps into his side companionably, so the expression is rather negated. “Anyway,” she continues pointedly, “I thought I’d come see if you wanted to come watch the rest of the parade with me and Henry. I’m sure he’s got plenty of commentary about the performance.” The last bit is hastily added, as if in justification, but Killian doesn’t need any further convincing.

“I’d love to,” he smiles, attempting to muster every ounce of sincerity he possesses. “Lead on, Swan.”

As promised, Henry is ready with a full recap, stretching longer than the actual performance lasted. Killian catches Robin’s eye over Henry’s wild gesticulating, the lighting designer clearly struggling to hold back laughter as his shoulders shake with the effort.

“If you couldn’t tell, Henry very much enjoyed your performance,” Robin relates in as serious a tone as he can muster, causing Killian to suppress his own snort.

“We’ve got the best spot, you’re going to love it,” Henry assures, completely ignoring Robin’s comment as he grabs Killian’s hand to forcibly force him into a seat. “Have you seen the parade before? I mean, probably not in person - even Mom and I have only done it once when I was, like, five or six, and we missed half of it because we couldn’t get close enough. But we watch it on TV every year! Do you?”

It’s a lot to keep up with, but Killian does his best. “I’ve only seen a little, so this will be like my first time watching it. They don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in England, so Liam and I usually just enjoy the day off and don’t do much.” Honestly, he thinks Liam might sleep through the parade most years, but Henry doesn’t need to know that. Such blatant lack of festivity might break the lad’s heart, he suspects, if the current level of enthusiasm is anything to go on.

“We’ll just have to show you then,” Henry replies decisively, nodding to seal his declaration.

Indeed.

Henry proves to be quite the narrator, providing commentary on seemingly every float or balloon that passes by. Killian is particularly impressed by the balloons, floating far above the street in an almost otherworldly spectacle.

“Spiderman’s my favorite,” Henry offers, “but Mom likes Snoopy best.”

Killian turns just in time to see the woman in question shrug. “What can I say, I like the classics,” she explains. “Except the pilgrims. Those inflated heads are friggin’ creepy, and always look like they’re about to tip over.”

(She’s got a point.)

In the meantime, Henry’s mind finally catches up with some of Killian’s earlier words. “Wait,” he says, “you and your brother don’t celebrate Thanksgiving?”

“No?”

“So you’re not having a Thanksgiving dinner?”

“Not everyone does, Henry,” Emma reminds her son.

“Yeah, but he’s alone on Thanksgiving. That just seems wrong.”

“I don’t know, lad, I wouldn’t call this big crowd alone,” Killian reasons.

“Yeah, but what are you doing after this?”

The lad’s got him there. “Ah… well, I was planning on going home and heating up a bit to eat. Maybe order some Chinese takeout, if I can find a place that’s open.”

Henry stares at him at those words, wearing an expression Killian can only describe as being one of pure horror. “You can’t!”

“I’ll see if I have the makings for a deli turkey sandwich, if that makes you feel any better,” Killian offers to a stunned silence.

“Or you could just come to dinner with us,” Emma offers.

Killian’s head snaps around to meet her eyes. “Oh no, Swan, I couldn’t possibly intrude,” he protests, but Emma’s already waving off his attempts.

“Really, it wouldn’t be a hassle. Granny usually makes enough to feed 20,” she explains. “I mean, let me give her a call to make sure, but I don’t think she’d have a problem with it. If you want to come, that is, I don’t want to pressure you into anything,” she hastens to add, but there’s no need for that.

“I’d be honored,” he smiles.

———

God, what was she thinking, inviting Killian to Thanksgiving dinner?

Well, she knows what she was thinking, totally focused on making her kid happy and wiping that horrified look off his face. Plus, you know, it wouldn’t exactly be a hardship, inviting Jones to dinner. He’s pleasant company, and chatty enough to fit in with all the rest of the maniacs crammed into Granny’s. Plus, he’d already know everyone, Ruby and Mary Margaret from the show and Granny from Emma’s birthday party. It certainly wouldn’t be the fiasco she’s currently inflating it into.

Granny had been more than agreeable to Killian joining them. “Of course he can come,” she said. “He’s a sweet boy. Hell, invite some of the other Thanksgiving orphans in the show if you want, Lord knows we’ve got enough to feed them all. As long as they bring booze to share.”

With Granny’s blessing, Belle had graciously accepted the extended invitation along with Killian, and Emma suspects that if Scarlet ever checks his phone and sees that his little crush is coming, he’ll join in too. Robin already has plans, taking Roland to Thanksgiving with his maternal family - “It’s the least I can do, now that his mother’s gone” - but there’s tentative plans to swing by later for pie, if timing permits.

The plan is to serve the meal at three, so all attending have been sternly instructed by the lady of the kitchen to arrive between two and two-thirty, drinks in hand. Of course, all attending just means their unexpected guests - Ruby and Emma are both expected earlier to help with the meal as needed, though in Emma’s case that mostly means putting stuff other people made into the oven and setting the table. When Granny runs out of things for Emma to stir - seriously, even Henry is trusted to do more in the kitchen - she’s banished to the dining room to act as a welcome committee for whenever their guests arrive.

Honestly, it’s a little too much time spent with her own thoughts. Emma invited Killian for the same reason she invited everyone else - she didn’t want him to have to be alone on for the holiday. That’s it. She doesn’t need to be worried for this, like it’s some date; it’s just a bunch of friends having dinner together. As friends.

That doesn’t keep her heart from jumping into her throat for a moment when Killian shows up at precisely 2:04 in the afternoon with a full bottle of red wine under one arm and an already opened bottle of rum under the other.

“I hope that’s alright,” he says. “The wine was a gift, so I’m not sure how good it is, but the rum is my own so I knew that would be palatable.”

“Yeah, that’s great. We can put those behind the counter if you want. Or back in the fridge, though I don’t really think either needs it, but hey, what do I know? Though they’re probably pretty cold already from the trip here — ”

“I promise, the counter is fine, Swan,” Killian laughs. As he moves to leave them on the laminate top, he leans in to whisper in her ear. “Relax, love. Don’t overthink it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Emma mutters, but Killian doesn’t hear her, already moving to greet Granny where she’s poked her head out of the kitchen.

“Thank you for permitting me to join your undoubtedly spectacular Thanksgiving feast, Mrs. Lucas,” he says with seemingly every ounce of formality he possesses. It’s funny to watch, Emma has to admit, especially knowing Granny and Ruby will disabuse him of that notion shortly.

“Enough of that,” she tells him briskly. “Now set down those bottles and come help, we need an extra set of hands.”

Emma can breathe easier with Killian in the kitchen as she turns back to setting the table. It doesn’t hurt, either, that the rest of the afternoon’s guests start trickling in not long after. Belle manages to arrive not ten minutes after Killian, cheeks pink from the chill, and Scarlet shortly after 2:30 with a case of cheap beer in hand.

Shockingly, it’s Mary Margaret who leaves them waiting the longest, everything but the bird itself already having been set on the table before she finally shows up. Her delay is easily excused, though, as she arrives hand-in-hand with David Nolan and red, chapped lips.

“I knew it!” Ruby crows from the table before smacking Henry in the arm. “Pay up.”

“Are you teaching my kid to bet, Ruby?” Emma calls, trying to infuse her voice with disappointed incredulity.

“Please, it’s five bucks,” she dismisses. “And it was his idea, for the record.”

“Hey Mom, do you have five bucks?” Henry grins across the table, causing a loud guffaw from Scarlet and what Emma thinks was a muffled snort from Killian. Figures.

“Hey, you got yourself into this mess, kid, you can get yourself out of it. This is what you get for betting that Co-Captains Obvious weren’t dating.”

“Oh, I still thought they were dating,” Henry clarifies. “I just thought that they’d hide it until New Year’s.”

That gets the whole table laughing, even Emma, as Mary Margaret tries to sit down with as much dignity as she can muster and a barely suppressed smile on her face. “If you all are quite done,” she says primly, “then yes, David and I have been seeing each other for the last couple of weeks. And I’m very happy about it.” She takes the moment to smile at her paramour, the picture of lovesick serenity. “And he is too. Now, can we start dinner before everything gets cold?”

“Don’t think you’re getting off that easy, girlie,” Granny warns, the affection clear in her voice. “But we’ll put it aside for the moment. Serve yourself, everyone, I’m the cook not the waiter.”

As the room dissolves into laughter and conversation, everyone attempting to grab for their favorites, Emma leans over to whisper in Mary Margaret’s ear. “I am happy for you, you know, all bets aside.”

“Thanks, Emma,” the pixie-haired brunette beams back. “I’m happy too.”

Emma probably shouldn’t be surprised, but despite all the last minute additions, it still feels like a proper family dinner, not the hodge-podge of people it technically is. Of course, Killian is right in the middle of it all, trading innuendos with Ruby, patiently listening to Henry tell about seemingly every past Thanksgiving he’s ever celebrated, and gently ribbing David and Mary Margaret - but mostly David - about their budding relationship. Honestly, she could picture another holiday spent in his company, would welcome it in fact.

(With everyone else too, of course. Purely as friends. Because when you stumble across a good thing, why mess with it?)

———

Killian misses Liam’s first call that night, too busy trying to wrestle the mountain of Thanksgiving leftovers Granny sent him home with into the fridge, and almost misses the second, the device buzzing precariously close to the edge before he executes an impressive dive to snatch the phone off the counter in time.

“Hello?” he manages to gasp out, slightly out of breath from his dramatic grab.

“Am I interrupting something?” Liam asks, amusement coloring his voice. “I just wanted to call and congratulate you on the parade again, but do I need to call back later? Or tomorrow perhaps?”

“No, no, not really. It’s fine. What’s up?”

“‘Not really’? Not to pry, but I thought you were set up for a quiet day in after the parade. Did you have plans I didn’t know about?”

“Not that you knew about, no,” Killian hedges, “but I ended up having a late lunch with some people from the show.”

“Oh? Anyone I know?” Liam asks, a little too genuinely. The bastard probably already knows exactly what happened without even being told. Some days, Killian wonders if there’s some kind of psychic power associated with being a big brother.

“Oh, you know. Belle. David and Mary Margaret - they’re dating now, as it turns out. No one is particularly shocked. Will Scarlet put in an appearance - he’s the one who’s got his sights set on Belle. A few others. Anyhow, did you have an eventful day?” Killian attempts to breeze right over the fact that he spent his holiday with Emma’s family, essentially, but doubts it was very effective an effort.

“Oh no no no, little brother,” Liam redirects, laughing right over Killian’s muttered protest of younger, Liam, younger. “I see what you’re doing. A few others? One of those ‘few others’ wouldn’t happen to be your lady and her boy, would they?”

“Still not my lady,” Killian reminds Liam. Honestly, it’s getting a little old - especially since Liam was one of the voices telling him that maybe it wouldn’t be such a brilliant idea to ask Emma out in the first place. “But yes, they might have been there.”

“Might have been?”

“Ok, they were there. In fact, Emma was the one that invited me. They always spend Thanksgiving, and most holidays I think, with one of the costume assistants and her grandmother. Happy?”

“Quite.” It’s impossible to miss the smug note in Liam’s voice. “So, tell me,” he continues, “how was Thanksgiving dinner?” It’s so easy in Killian’s mind’s eye to picture Liam leaning forward with his chin propped in his hands, the universal sign for sarcastic attention. Wanker.

“No. I’m not telling you if you’re going to be a horse’s arse about it.”

“Oh c’mon, Killy,” Liam wheedles, but Killian’s having none of it.

“No, I’m serious. I appreciate your advice when I need it, but not when I have to deal with your relentless teasing the rest of the time! It makes me not want to tell you things, honestly.”

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry,” Liam concedes. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m sorry, younger brother,” he emphasizes, as if to underline just how genuine he’s being. “Would you like to talk about your day - or at least the dinner part of it? I’m a willing ear if you want it. Otherwise, I’d love to hear about the parade.”

Killian considers telling Liam no, flat-out, but the truth is he kind of does want to rehash the day, share his excitement and enthusiasm over his first real Thanksgiving (not the vaguely British facsimile he and his brother half-assed, to borrow a phrase, their first few years on this side of the pond). That doesn’t mean he’s going to make it easy on his brother; no, after the teasing he’s been subjected to, he deserves a little taunting of his own - at least by way of leaving Liam in suspense for a while.

“The parade was amazing, Liam, every minute of it. Watching it on TV doesn’t give you any idea of the sheer spectacle of it all,” Killian says, gushing a little bit despite any intentions he might have had about acting like an adult on the phone. It’s far too late for that; the grin stretching his face at the mere memory of the day’s festivities is proof positive of that. “I must have looked like a fool in the crowd afterwards, just grinning like a madman, but Gods, Liam, I’ve never seen anything like it. Even for New York standards, the crowds were huge, and everyone was just buzzing with excitement. I swear, I’ve never experienced anything like it.”

“Well you were amazing, Killian,” Liam replies warmly. “I’m so proud of you. I’m tempted to go find a YouTube video of the performance and email it to everyone I know, like some kind of obnoxious parent.”

“Well, that seems a bit excessive,” he comments dryly, “but I take your point. It really felt like we were one organism today, you know? All moving as once to execute the best performance we could.”

“Trust me, Killian, it showed. I’ll be shocked if that appearance doesn’t exponentially increase the buzz around the show.”

Killian could drag this out, describe each balloon in detail, exactly where and how they prepared inside of Macy’s, precisely how cold it was to the tenth of a degree with excruciating attention to which specific fingers and toes felt the chill, but he takes pity on Liam instead. He’s behaved, even though Killian knows he’s dying to hear about dinner. “Somehow, the Swans found out that I was planning to go back and microwave a meal in my apartment - Henry insisted we watch the parade together - so they invited me along to their own plans. Which kind of spiraled out into inviting several of the other Brits without plans. It was truly lovely, Liam,” he exudes, really getting into the recounting. “I swear, Mrs. Lucas cooked enough food to feed half of Manhattan. Henry swears she does this every year, and likely didn’t even have to cook any extra when Swan called about extra seats at the table. Though I doubt that last part.”

“Sounds like a regular feast,” Liam comments, chuckling.

“Oh, you have no idea. I missed your first call, and nearly the second, because I was trying to stack all the tupperware I was sent home with into the fridge. What do they call it? Fridge tetris?”

Liam barks out a laugh at that. “Aye, I think that’s the technical term. That much food?”

“That much. And Mrs. Lucas was sending it home with everyone, I wasn’t a special charity case. The whole affair was so lovely, really, I’ve never seen — ” Killian stops abruptly. “No teasing, you promise? Even if you think me some kind of ridiculous lovestruck fool?”

“No teasing,” Liam swears. “Even if you’re carrying on like a lovestruck fool. I’ll sit here and listen attentively and supportively, I promise.”

If they were having this conversation in person, Killian would toss his brother a skeptical look, but since that’s not an option, he plows on ahead. “I really understood the whole thing first-hand for the first time, you know? I mean, you can hear about how this is a holiday for families as much as you want, or see it on television or in the movies, but it doesn’t really sink in until you’re sitting in the middle of it. There was so much sheer affection at that table, Liam. And I’ve never seen Emma so at ease.” He pauses for breath, taking the opportunity to collect his thoughts. “I’m aware that that doesn’t really mean much, considering our relatively short acquaintance, but still. She was comfortable, in a casual way I haven’t previously associated with her. Like that was her place, in some kind of deep and emotional and cliche way. Does that make sense?”

“She looked at home,” Liam supplies, putting the words right in Killian’s mouth.

“Yes! Exactly. I know I must sound silly - this is where the lovestruck fool bit comes in, so please, contain yourself - but it’s nice, being able to discover these new sides to Swan that I don’t see every day. Charming. Wonderful. Some other word more expressive than nice.” Killian stops himself before he gets too far. “I’m babbling.”

“A little bit.”

“Kind of you to downplay it.”

“Anytime.”

They both laugh at that. Technically, the comments break Liam’s vow not to tease him, but their spirit certainly doesn’t, so Killian lets it pass.

“So you had a great day?” Liam asks.

“The best. Enough about me, though, what about you, how was your Thanksgiving? Sorry I didn’t call earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it, brother. My day was much more low-key than yours. Dropped by to have a few beers with a couple other ex-pats from the film, but that’s about it. Honestly, watching you in the parade was the highlight.”

Killian blushes at the words. “You don’t have to say that,” he mumbles, but Liam can probably hear the smile in his voice anyway.

“I only say it because it’s true,” his elder brother promises.

“Thanks, Liam.”

Conversation turns towards more general topics eventually, not that Killian minds. He loves these calls with his brother, even if he was a bit late to this particular one.

“Christ, it must be getting late for you,” Liam finally says. He’s not wrong - they’ve been on the phone for almost an hour, and in that time it’s gotten quite dark outside. “I’ll let you go - I’ll have to be up early tomorrow anyways.” It’s a half-assed excuse and they both know it, especially since Killian is pretty sure he’s the only one who has to work tomorrow.

“Are you sure?” he asks, even though he’s sure of the answer. Big Brother Liam, still trying to make sure little Killy goes to bed on time and brushes his teeth.

“Go on. We’ll talk later,” Liam replies, absolutely certain. Who is Killian to argue with that?

“Alright, well, Happy Thanksgiving, Liam.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, little - younger brother.”

#my writing #cs ff #cs au #Playing the Part #Before the Parade Passes By #Broadway AU #stage manager!Emma #actor!Killian #happy thanksgiving #a month early

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amethystfaery-blog1 · 7 years ago

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Faery Folk Wicca

Just about every witch knows about them, but they remain to be some of the most mysterious parts of witchcraft and paganism. They faye (fay, fae, or however you may spell it) are a range of beings that, while they aren’t human, do have an effect on the lives of humans, be it benevolent, neutral, or occasionally malevolent. They take many forms, from the house brownie of Scotland to the Dryads of the Greek woods. I’ll be focusing on house and garden fae, which are the one’s I’ve had the most experience with.

Note: This is by no means a definitive list, and the fae in your realm may behave differently from those described here. Be mindful of the fae folk as they are quite powerful, and in many cases, to anger one is to anger all, so please treat them with respect. It is also important to note that fae are not to be confused with spirits, that is, the presence of a person who has died. They are entirely separate, and I may do a blog on them later.

Brownies- A personal favorite of mine, brownies are small humanoids that reside in the unused parts of a house, often closets, attics, crawl spaces, or holes in the wall. They help about the house with tidying and general upkeep, generally in exchange for small gifts of food. They are said to enjoy honey and porridge the most. They are a skittish lot, and work almost exclusively at night. If the humans of a house misuse the brownie’s work, trying to get them to do more than the brownie is willing, or if they refer to the food left for the brownie as payments, this will generally cause the brownie to leave. They were generally treated as small, absent family members, with wealthy houses even leaven a small seat for them open next to the hearth.

Hobs- Hobs are similar to brownies in that they do help with work, but they do gardening as well as housekeeping. More powerful hobs are said to make plants grow faster, and some could cure illnesses such as whooping cough. Another difference from the brownie is that they tend to move about, from one area to another, as they please. If a hob proved a nuisance, as they would occasionally, a set of new clothes as a gift could usually cause them to move on. Hobs, along with brownies, were the inspiration for J.K. Rowling’s house elves as well.

Goblins- a wide range of fae that are generally malevolent without being dangerously so. They are many different kinds, including boogeymen, ghouls, bugbears, and wirry-cows. They all share in the delight in frightening humans, as well as a general propensity towards vice, such as a goblin’s notorious greed. What sets them apart from other malevolent fae is that other than fear, and rarely theft of objects, they have little to no effect on the lives of humans.

Banshees- Banshee’s are different. A Banshee is a generally female fae that begins to wail as she senses that someone is dying. Originating in Ireland, far off heard shrieks were, and by some still are, seen as auguries of death. There is some dispute as to whether a banshee is a fae or spirit, I’ve put her here for now.

Changelings- Changelings are said to be fae that spirit away human children, generally infants, and replace them with a changeling child. These children are supposed to grow and develop differently from a ‘real’ child, often in unpleasant or disturbing ways. Dismissed by many people in the modern world as an ancient explanation for disabilities and mental handicaps, some people in the aforementioned communities have begun to identify with changelings, feeling that they are of a separate species, raised away from their true people. Children were believed to be vulnerable to changelings until they were baptized, or at least blessed.The existence of changelings is still a hotly debated topic among neo-pagan communities, just as they were once great fears of new families.

Hobgoblins- Aptly named, these fae contain the helpfulness of a hob, and yet also have a much wider trickster streak like a goblin. They appreciate gifts like brownies, but will leave if offered clothes like a hob. The most famous hobgoblin perhaps is Puck of A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare, who perfectly captured the balance of mischief and aid a hobgoblin tends to offer. They are often described as small, hairy men.

Domovoi- A Slavic fae that stood as protector of the house. It may live inside of the stove, under the threshold, or with livestock. It’s said to be masculine, and resemble the master of the house, but almost always having a grey beard, and sometimes small horns or tails. The Domovoi keeps guard over the house and may help with gardening, and like the brownie, takes joy in small gifts, though the Domovoi enjoys tobacco, bread, salt, and oil as well as milk, honey, and porridge. He also acts as an augur, if he’s dancing, singing, or laughing, it is said that good times are ahead, but if he wails, especially in the night, or worse, makes himself deliberately visible to a member of the family, death or misfortune is on its way.

Nymphs- Nymphs are feminine fae that are tied to a specific natural place or formation, such as a forest, mountain, grotto, sea, river, glade, or meadow. Though benevolent, many early peoples, and especially early Christians, feared their forward and often wanton sexual nature. Many of them were taken as wives or consorts of the Greek gods, and through these contacts bore immortal children and demigods, as well as cyclopes and other monsters. A nymph is tied to their formation/land, and will not leave, though they can die/ be transformed by a god to a hideous/evil form if they gain ill favor.

Dobbies- Not to be confused with the famed house elf from the Harry Potter franchise, dobbies are small creatures that inhabit stables and protect horses. Little is known about them except that they are extremely skittish and cannot bear to be seen by humans. It it believed that if a horse is well cared for, particularly if the stall is clean, a dobbie may be attracted to sleep in the clean straw. The name dobbie comes from an old English word for work horse, dobbin.

Kobold- A German house-fey that is something akin to a more mischievous brownie. If insulted, they may bring misfortune upon the house, causing broken and lost items. They have many appearances, and may appear as a dog, cat, flame, or small child, however they are almost always invisible, and should NEVER be pursued. They hate more than any other fae mentioned to be seen by humans, and have been told to drive insane or even murder those who seek to trick them into revealing themselves, capture them, or even track their footprints through flour or ashes. Please be careful!

Aitvaras- A Lithuanian creatures that take the form of a white or black rooster when inside, but become a ferocious dragon when in the open air. They are equally malevolent and benevolent, often providing grain and other goods for the house, only for the owners to find that it was stolen from a neighbor, and for the owner to get in serious trouble. They hatch from the eggs of roosters, specifically those 9-15 years old, but some believe the only way to get one is to buy one from ‘the devil’, at the price of one’s immortal soul. Once they inhabit a dwelling, they cannot leave.

Kitsune- Japanese for fox, these creatures may take many fox based forms, from a regular fox to a nine tailed one, or even a woman with fox features. They live on their own, but occasionally attach themselves to a household, in which case they may behave similarly to aitvaras, bringing ill gotten fortune to the household, since they are Yōkai, they don’t have a human sense of morality. They may offer gifts or payments which are very different things. A kitsune payment, usually offering money or other material items, is almost always paper, leaves, twigs, or stones under a spell, and is truly worthless. A gift, however, is almost exclusively intangible, and may be protection, knowledge, or long life.

That’s all I have for now, but If I find any others, I’ll be sure to post! Let me know if any of you have a house or garden spirit! Thanks, and may blessings come to you all!

#faery witch #wicca #magick #fae #grimoire #fey

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