#here though I’m at church because I want to be there. I’m an independent woman who chose to come to church on her own

[sailforvalinor]

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[kkglinka]

I'm responding to @sisterdivinium but their posts about Mother Superion are already really long, so I'll just do this separate. I too noticed that her habit resembled the Orthodox Patriarch, and her cane functioned as the crosier. But she's also still trapped in combat, still grieving, hence the black. Here's what I think is going on:

First, Suzanne's name is likely a reference to "Suzanne Take Me Down" by Leonard Cohen, which was adapted into a song. Just make sure you find the right "Suzanne" lyrics, else you'll be pretty confused. It's about a older famous performer past her heyday, who now shepherds the lost and forgotten, and how her actions parallel those of jesus, etc.

Second Jillian Salvius is the Young Bishop, which is another reason we always see her in white and blue. The first name is simply young or youthful, though also an indirect reference to julius ceaser. The surname, on the other hand, likely references a line of very early bishops, in particular Albi Salvius. He was a humble scholar who just wanted to hang out in his cell and do work. Instead, he was saddled with the responsibility of establishing a diocese and building the first church for new converts. Think of that scene where she's up on a pulpit, beseeching new believers, earnestly spreading what she believes is the truth. Then there's that church she accidentally built via the Christian Shepherd.

Hold those two factoids in the back of your mind.

Whether Jesus was real or a conglomerate of popular messiah stories of the time, and even though he was merely trying to reform his own religion away from increasing political corruption under Roman rule, his actions resulted in a new religion. His apostles were the first traveling priests, except for the Apostle of Apostles herself, Mary, who was denied that formal authority despite being the de facto head after her husband's Jesus's death. We see this usurpation of a woman's authority repeated with Areala when man speaks in her place, vowing fealty to Adriel, condemning the early OCS to his influence. Theoe early holy orders were often pretty in dependant actors, but we see that the OCS was fully enfolded and constrained over time. This usurpation is symbolized by the fact that Mother Superion, who heads a world-wide sect devoted to the worship protection of the Halo, must take orders from a lowly priest.

It is unjust. Moreover, it was foolishly careless on the Vatican's part to deem such a crucial sect, protecting a sensitive relic, so low on their totem pole of authority. It left it vulnerable to infiltration, to being manipulated by the lowest members of their clergy with no recourse to challenge a suspected traitor. Mother Superion was correct to admonish Duretti for his inattention. It's why Shannon kept vital information a secret, because she knew her superior would be powerless to act independently on that information, even though that lack of data put the surviving OCS at a huge tactical disadvantage.

Then we have the Conclave. It was not a meeting of the Holy Roman Pope and his subordinate Cardinals. It was a meeting of equals, various heads of various christian sects, who nominally bow to the pope in order to maintain peace. And Mother Superion was at the table with them, because that is her actual status. We are meant to see that Orthodox Patriarch beside her and realize, she is the OCS Matriarch; she is the head of an independant christian sect being held hostage by tradition. We are shown that Duretti is tacitly aware of the authority actually due her, when he temporarily endorses her right to speak.

Except, Jesus broke with tradition. He was an unruly construction worker turned prophet, who gathered a close group of devotees who chose his teachings over that of their original belief systems. One might argue that contention is the tradition, and we see that play out with Ava. All those obedient zealots before her, yet she's the one who communicated with a deity and thereby became a prophet. There's Beatrice playing Mary Magdalene, the one who witnesses the most amongst the other apostles. This endless cycle of Halo Bearer being martyred according to the official script.

This script can be symbolized by Michael, the pure, untarnished man-child, unfailingly offering himself as a lamb for slaughter in the temple. For naught. An empty sacrifice. It can be symbolized by Michelangelo's Pieta, in which the Church insists that the woman is Mary the Virgin holding her son, but Michelangelo was a scamp and there's a well-established school that believes it is Mary Magdalene, his lover and/or wife. The latter theory tarnishes the image. It reminds the audience that he was a 33 year old man, from a culture that expected marriage amongst adults with established careers, for its people's very survival. He was rebellious, argued and railed against his fate. He was executed as a political dissident, no different than so many others struggling against Rome.

If the show were to continue, then Ava's return would cause a public schism between the OCS and its congregation, and the Vatican. Because, as Ava pointed out, Jesus in-'verse was likely an alien like Adriel, or even Adriel himself on his first round, before he discovered Reya's betrayal and intention to have him killed. In which case, there is no ground for christianity. One must look further into the past, if searching for god. One must also have the Holy Matriarch, and her Young Bishop, to create a new "modernized" church, as the OCS inevitably goes public.

[annetteblog]

I spent January 1 watching YoI and it’s the best way to start a new year, I guess

So, yes, after all these years I finally watched Yuri on Ice. The biggest thanks to all people, who recommended me to do it, because it was amazing :) 

Now, beware of my incoherent rambling about the characters, the plot, figure skating, Victuri (Victuuri?), LGBTQ+ representation, and Russia, just because I need this 🙃

First of all, I had never thought that one day I would end up having a crush on a Russian man, but here I am, having crush on a Russian 2D man. Victor Nikiforov, how dare you steal my heart like this! He’s some kind of a damn Russian Apollo... So I perfectly understand Yuri’s gay panic in the first couple of episodes 🤣 dude, I feel you.....

What I specifically liked about the characters, it’s their growth. They were not frozen, but gradually developed to become more mature towards the end. Victor becoming less selfish, more compassionate and empathic; Yuri becoming mentally stronger and more confident. And Yurio... he’s such a lovely pirozhochek!!! :D Really, this “I-am-strong-and-independent-grown-up” kid with his love to pirozhki is just 🥰 But yes, he also mentally grew.

For me as a Russian, it was a pleasure to see normal Russian characters in a foreign show. They were talented and nice, wow, that really happened!!! Honestly, I’m so sick of this “bad-drinking-vodka-prison-tatoos-nucklear-weapon-terrible-accent” narrative (I watched Tenet the other day, and I was literally sitting like this 😐 the entire film; they forgot to add a bear for the full picture). And normal Cyrillic! Not perfect or 100% correct, but at least it was readable and understandable, not just a classic American movie with a Russian text, which looks like this - зжэщгардгрвъ шщыралойцы фвзпролдрппппп (yes, I just hit my keyboard). The same applies to the athletes from other countries. Kazakhstan!! Otabek!!!! 

I also needed to pause one of the episodes just to scream at this

Aeroflot (rus - Аэрофлот) is a Russian airline. And yeah, it sucks 😄

But seriously, you can clearly see that they did their research, cared for details and payed attention to things, and I, as a foreign viewer, really appreciated this. I really hope, that one beautiful day shows’ producers start to make characters from different cultures, who are just... you know... ordinary normal people? and not just a bunch of stereotypes?? or necessarily devilish evil just because they are from another country??? 

And now, the ship! 

I’m not really familiar with a lot of anime, and definitely not familiar with genres like yaoi, although I’ve heard about its stereotypes and certain common patterns. Here, however, it was a pleasure to see a same-sex relationship, which was not just a cool fetish for some young straight girls (nothing against young straight girls), but like... an actual relationship? Plus the creators successfully embedded it into the main plot, without shifting the central focus of the show and abandoning the actual sport competitions. 

I really enjoyed the delicate approach to the relationship’s development. Considering the characters’ own path of progress, the relationship they formed were equal and mature. Also their care and clear tenderness towards each other were speaking louder than words.

Sidenote. I had never realized how much I needed a Russian non-straight character in my life until, well, yesterday. Thankfully, I had the Internet since I was around 11, so I spent my teenage years watching a lot of American/ West-European tv-series. LGBTQ+ representation was not something out of the ordinary, it was not a taboo; and it mattered to me, a young girl, who tried to figure out what the F was going on with my own self. But I had never seen a Russian LGBTQ+ fictional character on the screen. Ever. Honestly, I had never payed attention to this fact. Normally I don’t really care about a person’s nationality, so I couldn’t even think that having some queer character, who is Russian, would be somehow important to me. As it turned out yesterday, it was actually important. And, I guess, one of the deeply personal reasons why I liked YoI, was the fact of seeing someone from my own country and my own culture, who was non-straight and being just fine and perfect the way he was. Even though I’m not a struggling young girl anymore. 

Okay, back to the tale, before I become a teary mess again. 

Their relationship was heartwarming to watch. Although there were clearly some sexual undertones, it didn’t end up being just some sexy gay boys. It was definitely about the growth of love, firstly fragile but becoming stronger and more affectionate with time. Their bond became psychologically equal; and they do complement each other, being codependent in the best sense. And it was beautiful. 

However, from what I quickly gathered while reading a few comments, some people still claimed that there was not enough clarity in terms of their relationship?? I have to disagree with this completely. Excuse me, but you don’t exchange matching golden rings in a church with your friend to wear it on your ring finger. You definitely don’t passionately kiss it seconds before an important performance. And you don’t cry your eyes out if your friend suggests you to end your partnership. If you do, I have some news for you, dear 🤡

I honestly can’t figure out what kind of a bigger clarity some people want. If the same plot was shown between a man and a woman, you would get the message from the episode 1. Or at least from that episode, where they were naked making out i mean...... practicing some moves?? wtf it was, honestly, I was too busy laughing 😆 However, seriously, what do you need? Is this really necessary to show an R-rated sex scene for some people just to get it? Lame. 

Sure, YoI was not perfect. Some bits with figure skating were off, and there was some obvious magic going on in terms of homophobia, more specifically - its absence. I mean, I’m not an expert in LGBTQ+ rights in Japan (although I know it’s not  that great), but if a Russian figure skater came out or just had some kind of (publicly known) unidentified close relationship with a same-sex partner, their successful career would be over. And not just Russian, I guess, any figure skater would face similar problems. It’s a very conservative sport. 

But, actually, I was grateful that they showed it the way they did. Fairytale-ish. A show doesn’t have to be realistic to be great. It’s enough if it warms our hearts and gives hope to the brighter future. The real world may be cruel and unjust, but we all need kind and reassuring stories to keep us going. And such story about caring relationship and love is the great example of this. 

Lovely, funny, refreshing, and heartwarming. 

Or, just quoting Victor

vkusno!!! (c) 

😄

I will definitely rewatch it at some points in my life.

and now excuse me, I need to fall into the rabbit hole of fanfiction, haha stupid me

P.S. 

This moment was 

hot

[immerlein]

I see that some Christian women like to cover their hair, particularly the Orthodox women on your page, what is the significance of this? I find it beautiful and I’m thinking of wearing my headscarves like that as well.

Hi there! Thank you very much for this question; this is probably my favourite thing to talk about (if my #headscarf tag didn’t give that away, haha).  Wearing a headscarf/headcovering in church and in prayer is an ancient and traditional Christian practice. It is mentioned throughout the Bible:

1.) The priest shall stand the woman before the Lord, uncover the woman’s head, and put the offering for remembering in her hands (Numbers 5:18)  (her head must have been covered for this to make sense) 2.) Then Rebekah lifted her eyes, and when she saw Isaac she dismounted from her camel; for she had said to the servant, “Who is this man walking in the field to meet us?” The servant said, “It is my master.” So she took a veil and covered herself. (Genesis 24:64-65) 3.)  Now Susanna was exceeding delicate, and beautiful to behold. But those wicked men commanded that her face should be uncovered, (for she was covered,) that so at least they might be satisfied with her beauty. Therefore her friends and all her acquaintance wept. (The Story of Susanna / Daniel 13:31-33)

And, most famously:

4.) Now I praise you, brethren, that you remember me in all things and keep the traditions just as I delivered them to you. But I want you to know that the head of every man is Christ, the head of woman is man, and the head of Christ is God. Every man praying or prophesying, having his head covered, dishonors his head. But every woman who prays or prophesies with her head uncovered dishonors her head, for that is one and the same as if her head were shaved. For if a woman is not covered, let her also be shorn. But if it is shameful for a woman to be shorn or shaved, let her be covered. For a man indeed ought not to cover his head, since he is the image and glory of God; but woman is the glory of man. For man is not from woman, but woman from man. Nor was man created for the woman, but woman for the man. For this reason the woman ought to have a symbol of authority on her head, because of the angels. Nevertheless, neither is man independent of woman, nor woman independent of man, in the Lord. For as woman came from man, even so man also comes through woman; but all things are from God. (1 Corinthians 11)

Our Church Fathers write of headcovering, saying: “The angels are present here... Open the eyes of faith and look upon this sight. For if the very air is filled with angels, how much more so the Church! ...Hear the Apostle teaching this, when he bids the women to cover their heads with a veil because of the presence of the angels.” - St John Chrysostom, referring to St Paul’s writing in Corinthians.  Origen said, “There are angels in the midst of our assembly...we have here a twofold Church, one of men, the other of angels...And since there are angels present...women, when they pray, are ordered to have a covering upon their heads because of those angels. They assist the saints and rejoice in the Church.” Instructions for catechumens in The Apostolic Tradition, by St. Hippolytus of Rome, include this: “Moreover, let all the women have their heads veiled with a scarf...” And St. Cyril of Alexandria, commenting on I Corinthians, wrote: “The angels find it extremely hard to bear if this law [that women cover their heads] is disregarded.”

I should probably mention now how this passage in Corinthians can be taken to mean that women are ‘inferior’ to men in some way, and that is what the covering represents. I won’t pretend that there aren’t people who might think this is the case, however, if we look at the Greek translation of “for this reason, the woman should have a symbol of authority of her head, because of the angels” we find the word “exousia”, which means “right/power/authority”. “Exousia” is also used in John 1:12: “As many as received Him, to them He gave exousia to become children of God, to those who believe in His name.” The headcovering is not a sign of a man’s authority over the woman, rather it is an outward sign of her own authority/right/power as a woman.  Another question you might be asking yourself is “why would angels care???”  To borrow from orthodoxinfo.com: “In her book, The Holy Angels, Mother Alexandra writes: “The Celestial hierarchies are the spiritual reality of ordered creation, the stable patterns in which disruption is unknown...” Obedience is characteristic of the angelic realm.”

In Orthodoxy we recognise nine orders/ hierarchies of celestial beings, arranged in three choirs. 

“Seraphim and cherubim are in the first, archangels and angels in the third choir, closest to us. Without obedience there is chaos and disorder. St. John Chrysostom, in a sermon on I Corinthians, speaks of how distinction in male and female dress—and particularly the veiling of women—“ministers effectively to good order among mankind.” Taking off the veil was “no small error,” said St. John; ”...it is disobedience.” It “disturbs all things and betrays the gifts of God, and casts to the ground the honor bestowed...For to [the woman] it is the greatest of honor to preserve her own rank.” To some who argued that a woman, by taking off her covering, “mounts up to the glory of man,” Chrysostom answers: “She doth not mount up, but rather falls from her own proper honor...Since not to abide within our own limits and the laws of God, but to go beyond, is not an addition, but a diminution...” Always emphasizing the equality between man and woman, Chrysostom admonishes the man “not to dishonor her who governs next to thyself.” The issue was order, not superiority or inferiority. At Matins for Orthodoxy Sunday, we sing, “Come and let us celebrate a day of joy: Now heaven makes glad! Earth with all the hosts of angels and the companies of mortal men, each in their varied order, keeps the feast.” “ - from orthodoxinfo.com

Fr. Basil Rhodes wrote in his Master of Divinity thesis in 1977 on the veiling of women in I Cor. 11 “Man is the head of the woman, according to Genesis and to St. Paul who compares the relationship of man and woman with that of the Son to the Father: ‘And the head of Christ is God’ (I Cor. 2:3). It would be a grave error to say that Christ is inferior to His Father.”  (it would be heresy!) 

Timothy McFadden writes: “Members of the Godhead—and His image—are not interchangeable. As God Father and Son are equal and One in nature, so also they are unique and not interchangeable. Similarly, though equal in nature, man is not woman, woman is not man. They are distinguishable.” - from orthodoxinfo.com

I posted about it a little while ago, but I also heard another interpretation of “because of the angels” on the Ancient Faith radio podcast called The Lord of Spirits. They linked it back to sexual immortality between humanity and spiritual beings, so not only do you need to cover to be modest among human beings, you also need to because angels might, I don’t know, be tempted by you? (The context of the passage was essentially around pagan converts to Christianity and explaining how Christian worship was not sexual/did and does not contain ritualistic sex.) @hymnsofheresy added some additional commentary from her classes: “1 Corinthians 11:4 specifies that covering is especially required when a woman is prophesying. In Hellenistic temples, it was understood that prophecy could result in a sexual encounter with spiritual beings. Veiling in church while prophesying was a way of preventing women from having sexual intercourse with (or being raped by) an angel. Angel theology at the time was heavily influenced by the Book of Enoch, and it was likely that many people saw angels as sexually capable beings who desired human women.”  I have absolutely zero idea how much this (if at all) influenced the continued practice of Christian women covering their heads in church/during prayer, but it is certainly fascinating to think about nevertheless. 

For me, on a personal level, I wear a headscarf as an outward sign of respect for holy spaces and holy practices, to help myself focus on prayer, as an imitation of the Theotokos (and other women saints), for modesty, because I respect the tradition, and largely simply because I like them! At my parish, they’re required if you want to partake of the Holy Mysteries (communion, confession, etc) but I’ve also been in Orthodox parishes that don’t require it (though perhaps encourage it). An old friend of mine once told me how his priest said that women are lucky to have a covering/protection to be sheltered by as they approach the Holy Chalice for communion, because it is SO holy and men have no such shroud. I thought that was pretty interesting too! 

I hope this is helpful to you! Please feel free to ask more if you need to :) 

[nikthehybrid]

The Beauty Within: Chapter One

Here is the first chapter, finally! Thank you @damonsbitchx for helping with this story! And thank you @bonnbonnbennett for having patience while I take forever to post this!

TW: Lucien Castle is a canon typical creep.

Link to the prologue at the end.

3,198 words

Chapter One

Lucien Castle sauntered down the main road of New Orleans. Everything seemed pathetic compared to the luxury he was used to living in. He smirked at the various women who ogled him as he walked by. Nothing stroked his ego more than the adoration of those around him. His near constant companion, Marcel Gerard, was kept around because he kept up a steady flow of compliments. As he wandered around, the most beautiful woman in the French Quarter walked right in front of him without bothering to pull her nose from the book. 

“Marcel, that woman, right there is perfect for me. She’s gorgeous,” Lucien declared. Marcel raised his eyebrows in shock. He couldn’t believe that Lucien thought he had half a chance with Camille O’Connell. She was entirely too smart to be seduced by the likes of Lucien. 

“I wouldn’t say perfect for you. She’s an independent thinker you know. Don’t let her appearance fool you, she can handle herself,” Marcel said with a slight chuckle, though he wasn’t surprised that Lucien didn’t listen to a word he said.

Camille continued walking, mildly aware of where she was going. She was used to being talked about by now, but that’s not to say she didn’t still hear the hushed voices and quiet giggles when she walked around the city. She subtly glanced in Marcel’s direction upon hearing his quip, smiling to herself. She couldn’t see why every young woman in town fawned over Lucien, the appeal just wasn’t there. She didn’t dwell on the subject too long most days, she had far more interesting topics to think about.

Marcel could see the irritation building in Lucien that Camille had ignored him so blatantly. It made his stomach twist with fear but he stayed quiet. It was better to live in fear than to be hated by such a volatile man. He was known to have a temper and little patience for those who did not live to serve him. 

“You know what, how about I go talk to her for you? Maybe she’s just intimidated by you,” he said, trying to sound as much like an admirer as possible. Lucien smirked at him and nodded before strutting off to one of the local pubs where he was well known. Marcel pulled a face when the man was out of sight before he hurried to catch up with Camille. 

“Sorry about him. I would say he’s harmless, but we all know that’s not true. He seems to be wanting to go back to war and I would say good riddance if he would actually leave,” he said to Camille as he followed her. Camille listened as Marcel talked, the things he said being mildly amusing. She continued to walk but she did put her book down to her side. 

“I’m definitely used to it, but I have to ask, if that’s how you really feel about him why do you continue to hang around him?” She glanced at him briefly, her eyebrows raised. Marcel let out a sigh.

“It’s not something I’m proud of, but I don’t have anyone else in life. He’s been a friend since childhood and after my father was killed I just stayed around him,” he said with a sad sigh. He looked around and tried to make it obvious that he wasn’t trying to hit on her. Then Marcel cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’m not just trying to follow you. But I will leave you to be on your way. I will tell Lucien you didn’t engage with me. I apologize if he comes knocking at your door.” He quickly veered off another street and walked in the direction of the pub that Lucien had entered. Marcel couldn’t help but feel incredibly awkward being the perceived middle man. His favorite solution was to disappear until he was able to collect his train of thought.

“Thank you,” she responded as he was walking off though she wasn’t convinced he heard her words. She frowned to herself but decided not to let the men consume any more of her energy.

Yet as she started walking again, Camille went back to reading as she walked towards Rousseau’s. She’d not met many kind people in the city but Marcel was a surprising exception. Upon arrival at her job, she quickly  shoved her book into her bag and clocked in  but she still found her mind wandering to Marcel. She had an overwhelming desire to help him. Lucien was a snake and it would break her heart to see a man like Marcel be corrupted by such evil.

As Camille walked behind the bar, Lucien gracefully entered Rousseau’s, perfectly timed as he had intended, and sat down at the bar. He watched Camille like a hawk as she served various patrons as they came and went. He didn’t care much that Marcel had told him she was uninterested. Lucien knew without a doubt how his friend really felt about him and knew he would never set a potential new friend up with him. So he intended to speak to Camille and sort everything out, to show her that he wasn’t the villain of the story.

 “Camille! Darling, I was wondering if I could have a quick little word,” he said loudly. He smiled at her but as he watched her walk towards him the smile turned to a smirk. Lucien chuckled as she attempted to pretend he was doing anything other than flirting with her. The longer he stared at her, the more it began to feel as if he were trying to stare her into some sort of submission. Slowly his grin turned predatory. “I’ll take a bourbon, neat. Do tell me what Marcel has told you about me that causes such an aversion to my charms.” He laughed a little as he waited for his drink. Lucien saw no point in hiding the fact that his ego was just as inflated as his wallet.

“I’ll be right back with that,” she replied with a stiff smile. She hoped to dodge his question entirely by the time she turned with his drink. While at the bar, she served a couple other quick customers while she poured Lucien’s drink and then hurried back over with his drink in hand. She set it on a square white napkin on the bar and glanced at him. “Anything else I can get you?” Lucien scoffed at her attitude and rolled his eyes. 

“I honestly would like to know what is so repulsive about me. I could give you a very good life. You would never have to work at this wretched establishment ever again,” he drawled, sipping his bourbon, “just have one drink with me, that’s all it will take for me to change your life. I promise I’m really not so bad.”

“Look, you are a perfectly handsome man and clearly you have a decent amount of charm. I’m happy for you. You’re just going to have to accept that your charm and good looks aren’t for everyone. Now, is there anything else I can get for you? I do have other patrons waiting on my service,” Camille snapped. She stared at him wondering where all that had come from. She definitely didn’t plan on saying any of it, but she didn’t regret the words and the truths that they held. Lucien stared at her with his mouth slightly agape. No one ever spoke to him that way, especially a woman. He sneered at her and tossed back his bourbon. He threw a wad of bills at her and stood in one fluid motion. 

“Keep the change. It’s not worth my time to pick it up,” he said. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the bar.

She winced as the bills flew at her face and rolled her eyes at his response. Her eyes followed him as he stomped out. She felt relieved knowing there was a good chance he wouldn’t come back anytime soon. The bewildered stares from customers pulled her quickly back to reality, so she bent down to collect the money and swept the napkin along with the glass from the table. Then, she rushed back behind the bar. 

Kieran O’Connell had been on his way home when he saw Lucien in the bar where his niece worked. Narrowing his eyes, he walked into Rousseau’s passing closely to Lucien as he did. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the other man before he approached the counter. Being a priest didn’t mean he had to pretend to like weasels like Lucian. He gave his niece a soft smile before accepting the glass of water she gave to him. 

“I just wanted to stop by and say that I was going to be heading out of town for a bit. I am traveling to another town to help get a new church up and running,” he said with another big smile. “I would ask if you’re going to be okay, but I see that you can handle yourself just fine.”

“Of course I’ll be okay,” she laughed softly and smiled up at him while she wiped down the bar. “How long are you going for this time?” She wasn’t used to being alone most of the time, but she didn’t see her uncle too often to warrant not being fine while he was out of town. Still, she would worry about him nonetheless. They looked out for each other, so she felt like it was her job to take care of him to an extent. Kieran shrugged a little bit. 

“I’m hoping it won’t be more than a week. It depends on their congregation size and needs,” he explained. He looked around the bar and noticed that everyone was leaving Camille alone except for Lucien. “Do I need to have a talk with Mr. Castle about harassing you? I don’t want that to become a regular thing you have to deal with. Especially when Marcel sits back and does nothing.” She frowned, glancing around briefly as she cleaned glasses and put them in their places.

“Marcel is kind, he tries his best. I can see that. Lucien just comes on a little strong, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m fine, I promise,” she said as she smiled reassuringly at him. The last thing she wanted was to worry him before he left town. She truly was fine for now. Kieran cocked his eyebrow at her but only nodded. He knew that she would be okay, he was just overly protective. After her brother had spiraled into a voodoo induced psychosis, he did his best to keep an eye on her. 

“Well you are better at seeing the good in people than I am,” he chuckled softly finishing off his glass of water. Then he stood and put his hat on. “I will see you in a week Camille. Keep out of trouble.” Kieran smiled and walked out of the bar. He knew she was too much of a free spirit to stay totally away from trouble.

Marcel nodded to Kieran as he walked into the bar and gave him a slight nod. Then he took a seat on the stool that the priest had just vacated. He was holding the left side of his face and he kept his head bowed as he ordered a drink from the other bartender. She laughed softly and waved goodbye to her uncle then moved down the bar to help a couple other customers. After a few minutes she spotted Marcel and shuffled back over. 

“Hey, Marcel,” she greeted him with a smile. “You just missed Lucien.” Marcel looked up at Camille and revealed his bloody lip along with his eye that was swelling shut. He let out a humorless laugh. 

“Unfortunately I didn’t miss him entirely. But I have to say your attitude towards him is refreshing, even if it means getting punched,” he said, though the look in his eyes said that he didn’t find it nearly as funny as he was trying to pretend. Camille gasped seeing his wounds, cupping her hand over her mouth. 

“Oh my god, Marcel, Lucien did that?” Camille gasped as she frantically grabbed a clean towel, dumping some ice into it and handing it to him with a concerned frown. “The next time I see that man he’s going to get a piece of my mind, Marcel, this isn’t okay. I’m so sorry.” Marcel quickly reached out and put his hand over her small one. He gently shook his head as he pressed the ice to his face, wincing ever so slightly. 

“Don’t. Camille, I’m begging you, just leave it alone. Don’t make him angry and eventually he will lose interest and move on to someone else. It’s okay, it’s not like this is the first time he’s kicked the shit out of me,” he said softly. “It’s nothing compared to what my father used to do.” She sighed in frustration, frowning as she inspected his eye. 

“Marcel,” she pleaded. “That’s not good enough, you need to get away from him. I’m not going to just sit by while he abuses you.” She continued cleaning while she spoke, coming back over to inspect his wounds ever so often. Marcel shook his head at the idea of her confronting Lucien. He knew the man very well and worried that he would hurt Camille in some violent way or another.

“Please listen when I tell you to let this go. I don’t want him to hurt you. And before you say anything yes, I know you can handle yourself. If it were anyone else I would worry,” he said, dropping his voice to a whisper. She stood in silence, wiping the counter before she responded. 

“Fine, I’ll let it go if you agree to let me help you,” Camille insisted. She eyed Marcel curiously, hoping he would accept her help. She gently reached out, taking the towel of ice from him, replacing it with a fresh one she’d just made. Marcel gave her a weary stare. He didn’t want to risk that Lucien might hurt Camille, but he also knew that she was extremely persistent and he knew she wouldn’t give up anytime soon. It would be better to know what her plans were as opposed to worrying she might go off on her own to confront Lucien. 

“We can discuss things over dinner,” he agreed. “But! That does not mean I am accepting your help on the spot. All it means is that I am willing to discuss our options.” Camille stared back at him for a couple moments, contemplating his offer. 

“Deal, I’m free tonight after I get off,” she said as she tilted her head, and smiled cheekily before moving down the bar again to help some customers.

Marcel chuckled and finished off his drink. He really liked Camille. She was a genuinely good person which was hard to find. He ordered a bit of food and ate while he waited for her shift to end. It seemed safer to stay in Rousseau’s as opposed to braving Lucien’s wrath in some dark alley all alone.

At long last, Camille emerged from the back room with her jacket draped over her arm and her bag in hand. The last few hours had passed surprisingly quickly which had come as a welcome surprise. Normally the shift that ended as the parties began seemed the longest. However, she was glad the be escaping the commotion of Bourbon Street for her quiet apartment a few blocks over.

 “So, are we staying in or going out?” She beamed, stopping next to where he was sitting. Marcel stood slowly and smiled. 

“Staying in sounds like a better option. I’m not in the mood to entertain the rest of society,” he chuckled. He offered his arms teasingly to Camille. “My lady.” Marcel dramatically bowed to her. Camille laughed softly, taking his arm. 

“I like your thinking, kind sir,” she humored his act energetically. “You can call me Cami, by the way. My friends call me that.”

“What brings you to our lovely cursed city, Cami?” He joked lightly as he led the way out into the street. As they walked he was continually surveying things to make sure that Lucien wasn’t following them. He wasn’t in the mood to get his ass kicked twice in one day.

“I moved here to be closer to my uncle after my brother... passed away,” she replied, trailing off. She clung to his elbow, noticing how tense he was. She glanced around briefly, observing different people walking the street. “Have you lived here all your life?” Marcel nodded as he continued to make sure he didn’t recognize anyone around them as Lucien’s clique. 

“I grew up here and then lived on the streets for a time after, well after some shit happened anyway. Then I got old enough and got a job. When I met Lucien he sucked me in with never being hungry or worrying about a place to live,” he said quietly. “I didn’t realize what he was until it was too late.”

“What he was? I mean, I can see why you feel indebted to him, but you deserve to be treated with respect, Marcel. You always have a choice, especially when you have friends,” she said as  she squeezed his elbow gently.

“He’s exactly like my father. It’s why I didn’t notice how bad things were until recently when I started becoming the person he was taking his rage out on,” Marcel said. He let out a pained sigh and gave her a sad smile. “I do deserve respect, but I can’t seem to convince myself of that until someone else points it out.” Camille frowned when he smiled at her. 

“I wish there was something I could do. There has to be some way to run him out of town or something. I see him in Rousseau’s all the time hitting on girls and I just--” she trailed off. “What is he even doing here?” Marcel let out a heavy sigh. 

“He’s here simply to entertain himself. Though I have a sneaking suspicion he’s looking for something in particular. He’s started shutting me out which can only mean that whatever he has planned is going to be catastrophic,” he whispered. Then he stopped suddenly. “Cami, isn’t that your uncle’s horse?” He pointed to the horse galloping towards them at a breakneck speed, momentarily forgetting about Lucien. She furrowed her eyebrows as she observed the change in his expression. She whipped her head around at his words, staring in horror. Quickly, she let go of his arm and walked a few feet forward with her hands out. 

“Woah woah!” She cried out as the horse skidded to a stop just a foot from her. He was wildly disturbed, anxiously bouncing around and grunting. He had fear in his eyes, she could see it as she grabbed his face to try and calm him down. She glanced back at Marcel in distress, wondering what she should do or where her uncle was.

[alliterative-albatross]

So, I sent you (@disgruntledspacedad) a pretty long ask a while ago (back when you had anon on) and I'm decently sure Tumblr ate it (or maybe you ignored it, in which case, feel free to ignore this one as well). But then I saw one of those "writers appreciate feedback no matter how long" posts, so I'm back here. Here is my mediocre attempt to rewrite my original review of your work. Bear in mind that English is not my first language, so if at any point my phrasing sounds weird to you, you know why. Mandatory disclaimer/apology: this might get a little too long 😅

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

I remember being SO mad at myself for not finding this sooner. I binge read it one afternoon with no thoughts for any real life responsibilities I might have had (and no regrets). Javiears is one hell of an unconventional relationship in the beginning, and I really love what you did with them. The whole premise of your story is quite refreshing, and you somehow manage to convey the trust and mutual respect there two feel for one another without explicitly showing us the beginning of their "entanglement".

Also, fuck you for what you did to poor Emilio, that man was a saint and he deserved better! I honestly can't believe that I got so attached to a character that appeared so little in the story, but it happened, and his death kind of broke my heart.

But the Javiears reunion + mild confession was lovely, and felt completely deserved. And of course the sex scene. I won't lie, I expected a bit better from Javi there, but I did like how utterly /human/ it was. Capturing that humanity, the imperfections in each character is something you're really good at (more on that later).

AFTERSHOCKS

Ah, my emotionally constipated babies who really need to work out their communication issues. I do love them, though. And this short series did a really good job of delving a bit deeper into Ears's and Javi's psyche. Kudos to you for dealing with the medical "aftershocks" of living through an explosion AND using that experience to move your emotional plot forward. These two need to grow a lot before they can get to a stable point in their relationship, and you really manage to convey their insecurity and fear of commitment/intimacy while making it clear that they're in it for the long run and that theirs is a relationship that WILL work out so help them God.

IF I FALL

Ouch. Punch me in the gut while you're at it, why don't you?

But seriously, "If I Fall" is SO FUCKING GOOD. Don't get me wrong, it's angstier than an image of Jesus on the cross (don't judge me, it's Holy Week and I just got home from accompanying my grandma to church), but it somehow works beautifully. You, my dear, play heartstrings like they're a fucking guitar and I AM HERE FOR IT.

You're doing an amazing job at making me feel everything these characters are feeling, which is both awful (bc pain) and impressive.

Also, if anything happens to Ana I will cry, because she is adorable and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Also also, if anything happens to Ears I will cry, because she is badass and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Also also also, if anything happens to Javi I will cry, because he is loving and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Basically, I am really invested in the well-being of these characters and can't wait until they're happy and safe again (please tell me they will be, my heart can't handle much more pain).

A quick note on the angst complaints: yes, this story is way angstier than most other fics out there and it can be a bit too much at times, especially considering how many chapters of pain it's been. BUT it's obvious that "If I Fall" NEEDS this amount of angst to get where it's going, to send the message it wants to and to properly develop its characters. The pain is as important to this story as flour is to bread. You may not like eating flour on its own (I don't think anyone does), but you love bread (because bread is amazing) and you must recognize that bread NEEDS flour to work. It wouldn't be bread otherwise. And eating the flour as part of the bread even makes you like the flour because the bread is just DELICIOUS.

I fully understand and sympathize with the people who have elected to table "If I Fall" until it's completed so they can binge read it knowing there's a happy ending in sight, but in case you're feeling a bit self conscious about all the angst, please know that your story is beautiful not in spite of the pain, but rather /because of it/.

PS: No, I'm not high/drunk, I just really like bread

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Silly thing to comment on, I know, but I do feel like it's important that you know how useful your ANs have been. There are many details in the story that I simply wouldn't fully get without reading your comments at the end of each chapter, and I appreciate your writing a hell of a lot more knowing how deeply you understand and care for each one of your characters. Plus, it is obvious how much work you've put into researching a country and a time period that are (from what I gather) unfamiliar to you, and I really do believe you've done an amazing job of it.

JAVIER PEÑA

My boy. I love your characterization of this complicated character, and I have eagerly read each and every one of your headcanons about him. I can't really say if your version is fully faithful to the source material because it's been a while since I saw Narcos, but your Javi most definitely reads like a real person. He's fairly consistent as a character, and I feel like everything he does is perfectly natural for him to do as a character. He makes for an unconventional yet deeply interesting romantic lead, and so far I have thoroughly enjoyed all his POV chapters/scenes.

OCs

I know you've gotten some flack for making her into an OC halfway into the story, and while I get why the sudden change may have felt like a disappointment for some, I don't share that sentiment. I firmly believe that this fandom is unfairly harsh towards Original Characters and their creators, and I don't really understand why. Listen, I love Reader fics, and consume many Reader fics. I have read dozens, maybe even hundreds, and I can safely say that I've only ever "inserted" myself in approximately 10% of those stories. Reader characters are not as blank as their writers may want them to be. They can't be. They're characters, and character have personalities and moral values and senses of humor and a bunch of other things. Reader characters may not have a backstory or a physical description attached (and even that's not guaranteed), but they're still characters.

And on a more personal note, pretending they're actual blank slates is naive at best and insensitive at worst. Reader characters are American coded 99% of the time, and white coded 95% of the time. Not every readers is white nor American, even if that's the predominant demographic on Tumblr. When I read a JavixReader fic about a woman who speaks exactly zero Spanish, I know she's not me. The story may be beautifully written and have an amazing plot and character development, but the Reader *isn't me*. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, and some of my favorite xReader stories feature a "reader" who couldn't be more different from me, but it's something that enemies of OC fics should take into account. Particularly if they are white and/or American. But I digress.

HANNAH AARONS

Your character is amazing. She's strong, smart, confident, independent and an all-around badass. She gets kidnapped while pregnant and still focuses on problem solving and survival. But she's also overly guarded and mistrustful, and really needs to work on her communication skills. There are times when I absolutely love her and even admire her, and other times when I want to whack her with a slipper. She's no Mary Sue, but remains interesting and likeable throughout the story. She feels wholly human and real, and that's no easy task. I like her, I am invested in her, and I can't wait to see what's next for her. She's a compelling and three dimensional protagonist in a complex story who never fails to draw me in. I love her. She's your baby, and you should be proud of her.

Also, quick question about personality types: I know you've typed Javi as ESFP and Ears as ENTP (100% agree on both, btw), but have you given any thought to their enneagram types? I personally have always seen Ears as being somewhere on the thinking triad, maybe a 7 or even a 6w7, but I'm not too sure about Javi. 9w8 maybe? He could also be a 6w5 🤔

PARTING THOUGHTS

Basically, I love your story, your characters and your writing in general. You are a fantastic storyteller and wordsmith. You get into the heads of incredibly different characters personality-wise (Ears, Javi, Berna...) and manage to capture all of their complexities and quirks every single time. And it doesn't feel like it's something innate for you either. To me, it seems that you have put a lot of work and effort into understanding each and every one of your characters, who they are, why they do what they do and what they want. And let me tell you, all that effort has been more than worth it. "Better Love" is a fanfic, but it wouldn't be out of place in a regular bookstore, if I'm honest. I don't know what you do for a living or if you've ever considered writing professionally, but you clearly have the skills and the drive to create some masterpieces.

You are amazing and your writing is a gift. Thank you for sharing it with us, and have a nice day! ~ 🍪

~

My friend, I apologize for hoarding your first ask. I’ve been sitting on it because I’m not gonna lie, I enjoy going back and rereading it. It gave me a lot of comfort when I was in a pretty dark place, both personally and in regards to my writing, and I was reluctant to send it out into the the abyss of Tumblr where I might never see it again. 

That’s not fair, though. You put just as much effort into sending me that review as I put into my writing, and I apologize for never responding to you.

Okay, anyway, so twice now, you’ve made me cry. In a good way, I promise! 

I absolutely love your bread/flour metaphor. It made perfect sense. I want the emotional release of Javi and Hannah’s reunion to be earned, and in order to do that, the angst has to come first (there are also a few plot “ingredients” that have yet to make their appearances). Thank you very much for understanding that, and for voicing it so eloquently.

I appreciate your comments on my research and characterization. You’re correct that I’ve put a lot of time and effort into crafting a universe. In a lot of ways, I’m doing my best to stay true to the source material (regarding culture and timelines in particular), and in others, I’m branching into my own territory. 

On that note, I’ve never once regretted fully embracing Hannah Aarons’ identity as an OC. She’s stayed consistent in my mind from the beginning, and it was a relief to finally share my vision of her with the audience. And for the record, I totally agree with you regarding “reader” characters. Every reader insert echoes the perspective of their author, no matter how vague the physical description. I can only imagine how grating that must be from the perspective of a non-white, non-american reader. Thank you so much for sharing your insight! I will certainly keep it in mind the next time I write a “reader insert” fic.

Okay, enneagrams! I am much less familiar with enneagram than I am MBTI, but I agree 110% that Javi is a 9 with a strong 8 wing. I waffled back and forth on Ears a little, but eventually landed on 8w7 for her. It came down to the eight’s deepest fear, which is being controlled. That’s Ears all over, and the fact that she and Javi share that eight willfulness means that they might butt heads a little, which also seems very appropriate for them. Big thanks to @remusstark for her insight into the eight frame of mind - our conversations helped solidify my decision on this. :)

Anyway, I’m just rambling now. The big take-away point that I want you to get is that I am so, so grateful to you, both for your insightful feedback and your dedication in making sure that I actually saw it. You are an absolute gem and a deep thinker, Cookie-Anon, and if you ever feel like sliding into my DM’s, I’d welcome the opportunity to get to know you better.

Mad love and soft hugs, 

~ Jay

[melinabeana]

Aerith is not perfect, but she is not needy, or self-conscious, or jealous. With Cloud’s inability to cater to a woman with these traits, this is why Aerith is so perfect for him. Cloud would not be able to coddle someone, he wouldn’t know how. Aerith doesn’t need to be coddled. She’s confident and independent and as a natural healer, she helps comfort Cloud. In fact, I would argue she’s the only one who knows how to comfort Cloud.

To me, in Advent Children, this is shown so beautifully. Everyone else tells him to essentially suck it up and move on, while he’s clearly grieving and in a state of depression. Tough love works for some people, but it can’t work for Cloud. He’s fragile, and although he shouldn’t be coddled, Cloud can’t be approached negatively either. Cloud is his own worst enemy, anything negative you throw his way, he will absorb and that will only make things worse. He will further pull away and isolate himself.

I wholeheartedly believe that Aerith was the only one to pull him back to reality in Advent Children.

“You came. Even though you’re about to break. That’s a good sign.”

Aerith knows how much losing her and Zack hurt Cloud and that he feels survivors guilt and a sense of failure that he couldn’t save them. She’s still gentle with him. She’s essentially saying: “You’re still here. You’re still fighting. What do you need to feel better?” He says: “I think I just want to be forgiven, more than anything.” Before this point, no one really bothered to ask Cloud how he was actually feeling and what might make him feel better, but Aerith did. No one supported that he’s still hanging on. He hasn’t given up yet. But Aerith did.

I’m about to compare Tifa and Aerith because I just think the relationship they have with Cloud is night and day. I’m not saying Tifa doesn’t have feelings for him. It’s apparent that she does. What’s also apparent is that Tifa has never known how to communicate with Cloud. She’s hard on him, and who wouldn’t understand her frustration? She’s not necessarily wrong with what she says, but this doesn’t work with Cloud. The most frustrating for me is when Loz attacks Tifa and Marlene and Cloud finds Tifa lying in the church. He runs to her, terrified and holds her in his arms and she says:

“You’re late.”

For anyone, that’s a tough thing to hear. “You’re late,” meaning this is your fault. Cloud is already in such a state of depression and grief that adding more will certainly not help him. In comparison, when Cloud says he wants to be forgiven to Aerith, she asks: “by who?” Cloud tells Aerith, he failed to save her and she says:

“I never blamed you, not once. You came for me. That’s all that matters.”

Finally, Cloud can let go of that guilt and grief. Aerith knows how much he cared, and still cares, for her and she was thankful that he even showed up. That’s what Cloud needed to hear.

Now, given the confidence and strength to continue fighting for his loved ones and family that are still alive, he returns and faces Sephiroth again. And once again, Aerith is there to guide him and support him, along with Zack.

Once Cloud is reunited with his friends, Geostigma having now been cured, he smiles at those surrounding him and spots Aerith in the distance, standing and walking away, back to the lifestream. She turns once more, after being his constant support throughout the entire film, and says to him:

Cloud lost Aerith so suddenly and so horrifically, with no sense of closure. Before her death, the last time he had seen Aerith he was under the influence of Sephiroth and physically hurt Aerith. He needed to know she was okay now. He needed her forgiveness. He needed to know she was still with him. He needed her to know he cared and that he was sorry. That’s a tremendous amount of guilt to live with for anyone, let alone Cloud.

He gets one last smile from Aerith and a wave from Zack and finally feels peace. He knows they’re with him and they never blamed him and he can move on. The amount of support and comfort that Aerith provides Cloud, even in death, is just so incredibly heartwarming.

[silver-wield]

I’ve just read the hypocrite comment from that Clerithox, I was totally flabbergasted that there is some CA that really-really-really-really do think that CA is canon and CT is fanon??? (WTH) I mean, ship what you like but don’t exposed yourself to be mentally unable to comprehend game’s plot/story/narrative & ignoring all the documented evidence (SMH) …. Psssst no one need to know you’re unwise.

So over on my twitter account I actually have the entire cult blocked and I mute all their tags so I don't see any of this unless it's sent in the group chat I'm in. Why am I saying this? So yall understand that I don't go looking for it and actually can't see it even if I tried. And yet, here is a list of all their bs takes about Tifa and the game so far for this year.

A year of cult bs in chronological order. A lot of these are repeated at different times during the month.

January

• 2020 was the year of Aerith

• Clotis want Tifa to die

• FF7R will be different

• Clotis want Tifa to have Aerith's arc

• Body shaming Tifa

• Barifa

• S7 residents didn't ask about Aerith after the plate collapse so they deserved to die

• Cloud is single in AC

• Aerith won't die and will save Cloud in the lifestream scene

• Cloud's heart "skips a beat"

• The number 8 is proof

• Editing scenes to remove undesirable canon lines

• Tifa gets blown away first in the Sephiroth battle opening cut scene, so that makes her weak

• Tifa's a badly written character

• Tifa has no backstory

• Nomura "hates" Tifa

• Aerith's key art of her staring at the blue sky is about Cloud

• Aerith's red dress scene and second dress bgm are validation

• Tifa is an overhyped bartender

• Tifa's weak (again)

• Body shaming Tifa (again)

• Hollow

• Tifa's weak (again)

• Aerith has better reflexes than Tifa

• If Cloud and Tifa are a couple why is the ending of FF7 such a downer?

• "Aunt" Tifa

• Body shaming Tifa (again)

• Cloud "couldn't refuse" Aerith

• Tifa respects Cloud's personal space

• EC and 1st Soldier were announced together so are clearly about the same thing, which isn't Zack

• Cloud listed 7th heaven in AC as 7th heaven so he doesn't love Tifa

• Body shaming Tifa (again)

• Aerith will live and fix Cloud's mind in the lifestream scene (again)

• Tifa got rejected because she asked if Cloud loved her while he was asleep in otwtas

• Ever Crisis is about Aerith, the Cetra and Jenova

• 7s till the end is Sephiroth warning he'll kill Aerith, so Cloud can save her

• Aerith and Sephiroth is a healthier pairing than Aerith and Zack

• Tifa didn't want to save Aerith

• Tifa's weak (again)

• Tifa's fanservice

• Body shaming Tifa (again)

• Tifa's weak (again)

• Tifa's a martial artist so should save herself

• Tifa's weak (again)

• You can see the pencil outline of 13yo Tifa's boob in her concept art - Roberto Ferrari is a pervert

• Aerith is the default heroine because the Amano art said so

• Fanart has no right showing Cloud and Tifa in the church

• Cloud, Aerith and Sephiroth are the FF7 "trinity"

• WoFF is FF7 canon

• AC Cloud getting stabbed in the shoulder is a callback to Aerith being stabbed in the back

• Tifa asked Cloud to talk in otwtas and that makes her a bad person

• Tifa is a "raging cishet"

• Ultimanias are just extended information

• Cloud dances for Aerith

• Aerith will ride the Hardy Davidson in part 2

• Barrifa (again)

• The whole plot of AC is Cloud losing "the love of his life"

• Barrifa (again)

• Tifa's weak (again)

• Tifa didn't want to save Aerith (again)

• Stars are their motif

• 7r posted a gif of Cloud, Tifa and Aerith so that's validation

• Triggered by fanart (again)

• Aerith will live and be with Cloud

February

• Barifa

• SE bias because they liked a cloti art

• Body shaming Tifa

• Tifa's "useless"

• Tifa was friendzoned

• Cloud wants to rape Aerith (it's just a joke though so that's okay)

• Getting triggered over fanart likes (again)

• Tifa's "useless" (again)

• Tifa didn't want to save Aerith

• Tifa was friendzoned (again)

• Tifa's "over praised"

• Haha we got 9 love songs

• Cloud wants to rape Aerith (again) (still just a joke, though, so that's okay)

• Cloud said he was a soldier on purpose because he wants to rape Aerith.

• Tifa should die

• Body shaming Tifa (again)

• Tifa's overly included in the game

• Tifa's useless (again)

• Barrifa (again)

• Tifa should die (again)

• Aerith saved everyone in AC

• Aerith's resolution is a love confession

• Hamaguichi is one of them because he had a photo taken on the church set

• Tifa's a "generic Asian girl"

• Tifa's white and appropriated Asian culture

• Tifa's fanservice

March

• List of 12 reasons why Aerith loves Cloud that includes her blocking the hallway to prevent him leaving, and stalking him.

• Tifa respects Cloud's personal space and that's bad

• Aerith will live because the devs wouldn't waste money remaking the story the same way.

• Hamaguichi is a dumdum because a fanartist claimed he spoke to her and said they'll have "their perfect answer"

• Over 10 love songs

• Tifa has a generic Asian face

• Cait Sith is confirmation because he said Cloud will lose his most precious thing and they assume that he meant Aerith

• Bracketing a picture of Aerith alongside one of Cloud who was protecting Tifa at the time

• Cloud and Tifa are just friends

• Cloud talks to Aerith more than anyone else in the game

• Hollow

• 7R is an alternate timeline and this time Aerith's aware she'll die and wants Cloud to save her, and Cloud is aware he needs to save her

• Aerith lives in relative luxury in the slums, how dare people hate her

• Tifa is a coward

• Roxas and Sora are Cloud and Aerith's kids

• Cloud confessed love during Aerith's resolution

• Tifa is an underdeveloped character compared to Aerith

• Cloud and Tifa weren't childhood friends

• Hamaguichi is a dumdum and supports the busted dinghy (again)

• People who like Tifa more than Aerith are boring

• The story is a sequel and Cloud and Aerith support Tifa in becoming an independent woman while she knows they're together and accepts it

• Cloud remembers Zack and doesn't say anything during the slide scene because he doesn't want to ruin his and Aerith's "date"

• The ending of OG is dumdum because of a mistranslated line

• Tifa is weak and clingy

• Edited scenes of Cloud's face centimetres from Aerith's

• Aerith's resolution is really Cloud's despite being labelled as Aerith's

This is just up to today's date 🤦‍♀️

[margridarnauds]

So, I’m trying to articulate my thoughts on Valhalla and gender, which is sparked by the fact that, while Lagertha is prominently mentioned as the mother of the Ragnarssons (and you can find her axe), we never hear so much as a word about Aslaug/Thora, who is pretty much the real protagonist of Ragnar’s saga. 

On one hand: Lagertha is pretty much at a high of popularity right now, courtesy of Vikings (derogatory). On the other hand: Aslaug is in Vikings (derogatory) too. We see her AS THE MOTHER of most of Ragnar’s sons. There’s no reason for her NOT to be recognizable enough to be included. (Lagertha’s inclusion is also problematic - Instead of being able to divorce Ragnar and have her own life, they went the cheap route by having her being shot by a Finnish arrow.) But, at the end of the day.....it feels like, while Valhalla DOES include a diverse range of women (including our protagonist), ultimately there is....some sort of hierarchy involved, where women who fight, or at least wield weapons are automatically seen as better? 

Of our two longterm romantic interests, neither one wears a dress, both of them in traditionally masculine clothing, likewise for Ciara in WOTD. With Randvi, we’re first really invited to pity her/consider her as a really viable romantic option when we hear that she COULD have been a Jomsviking....had she not been married off to Sigurd. We see her taking down bandits, drinking ale, and we’re supposed to think, at that point, that she’s a worthy love interest. 

There’s this rather confusing line from the artbook, which says: 

“As a strategist, Randvi does not dress in a warrior’s outfit, but neither does she wear the typical women’s clothing of her time.” 

Which...seems to imply that being a strategist (a role that primarily involves her being behind a table), is automatically at odds with wearing a dress. Even if 9th century Scandinavian clothing was restrictive (it isn’t - We’re well, well before the days of tightlacing here, and women had to be able to go about their daily chores, and even IN the days of tightlacing as the peak of fashion, plenty of women didn’t, or went about their daily chores), she’s not doing anything that involves intense manual labor. Putting her in pants is simply a way of saying “Look! Look at Randvi! Look at how independent she is!” which....actually doesn’t work, when almost EVERY OTHER major female NPC is ALSO in pants. Including Valka who, as a völva, ergo a non-combatant role that mostly involves eating shrooms in her huts, has no practical need for pants, even if, once again, the clothing was impractical. If I didn’t know What A 9th Century Norsewoman Should Look Like, I would just assume that this was something that all noblewomen did. 

It’s very rare to see women actively weaving, as I’ve discussed before, with Eivor only weaving as one of the disguises that she can take to blend in. As a shieldmaiden who’s up and about constantly, I honestly wouldn’t expect Eivor to devote that much time to weaving, but it is a little jarring when the women who are constantly at the settlement don’t so much as mention it, since this was a great opportunity for women to get together, share gossip, tell tales, talk shit about the men, etc. in their own spaces. And there was a bit of an anxiety around it, because, while this was a necessary function for the creation of clothing (which, in the game, seems to just materialize in chests over the game world), it also was tightly associated with magic and sorcery. (Hence why there was a stigma against men practicing magic....unless you’re Odin, in which case Loki will talk shit about you but is anyone else? No. Because you’re Odin.) I want to emphasize that my issue here isn’t “STAY IN THE KITCHEN AND BE A PROPER WOMAN, EIVOR”, it’s more....erasing what the vast majority of women in the Viking Age DID. 

The closest we get to more traditional, more conventional women would be in the form of the religious women, but, from the Anchoress to the one murderous nun in the mysteries event to Frideswid in the Lunden Arc to Acha in the Lincolnscire arc, they tend to be portrayed as either zealous and evil or confused and easily manipulated, which ignores the reality for many medieval women, which is that, for many women who didn’t want marriage for one reason or another (whether it was that they were facing the possibility of a forced marriage, or they had no dowry, or they were lesbians, or they were ace, or they were any combination of those things), it was their one chance at a life of their own. I’m not saying that it was IDEAL, or that the medieval church was ideal, but it did give them options (that, incidentally, in the pre-Christian times....you didn’t have. Which is why I don’t attach any real sense of horror to Christianity coming to Ireland, at LEAST from the standpoint of women’s rights. There are other aspects to that, but we’re here, in 9th century England, so I won’t go into it.) No, it has to come from some moral defect, otherwise, they would be independent, like Eivor, like Randvi, like Petra, like Eadwyn, like Valdis, or even like Fulke, who is a religious figure referenced, extensively, as mad and heretical, but who makes a large impact on the plot and at least earns some level of respect, as opposed to the others who make relatively brief appearances.

Now, when discussing women warriors, there tends to be some moral value attached to it: “Women warriors DIDN’T EXIST, and if you argue that they DID, you just want women to be men, ignoring that non-femme women might find comfort in the knowledge that they aren’t alone”, often with a sense of moral guilt-tripping over “Erasing women’s suffering” (which also falls into the trap of assuming that being a woman = suffering, or that that’s the defining experience of being a woman) VS “Women warriors EXISTED and they were #NotLikeOtherGirls and that’s ALL we’re going to talk about as far as women at the time, as well as ignoring any potential evidence for trans or otherwise nonbinary identities”. Both options have the potential to erase or diminish what either option can mean to people. I hate both options equally, and I find that the way they’re brought in is incredibly manipulative. I’m not interested in saying that putting an axe in a woman’s hand = setting back feminism for twenty years. I’m not interested in saying that having essentially no more conventional women in the main cast = feminism. Both are bad, but what I’m concerned about is the lack of nuance in Valhalla and how it seems to assume that there’s ONLY ONE WAY to have power. (I’d hoped that Lady Eadwyn would be cool, and she is....even though we only see her in armor, she’s kind of what I would expect from a medieval woman, in the sense that her husband was Ealdorman and now she’s following in his footsteps, defending her rights as his widow, but then we replace her with a dude.)

As someone whose relationship to gender is Weird, I actually really, really enjoy playing a female character who has the kind of independence that Eivor has - I enjoy getting to jump around, killing things in a gloriously rendered historical environment. I enjoy that, with the exception of Dag, no one really questions it (though I would have been down for a more in-depth examination of gender in the Viking Age). I enjoy that Eivor is compassionate, clever, and aggressive, and that she’s able to have romances with both sexes. I’m not trying to nuke her via historical accuracy here (especially since the historical reality of shieldmaidens is SUCH a hot topic, I feel like wading into either end of the historical accuracy pool is a recipe for disaster) because I actually really, really like her as a character. There are relatively few times where I really, really identify with and love a main female video game character, especially since, so often, even into the present, when things are supposed to be better, I can still TELL that they were made by and for straight men, and this is one. What I AM saying is that I hate that it comes at the expense of basically every woman who ISN’T a warrior or otherwise “independent” by the game’s standards. You do have merchant women, the tattoo artist in camp, Valka, as mentioned before, but it all goes back to that point - We never really see a prominent woman running the household, managing the money, giving orders, which was an immensely important, powerful job, and as a result, it always feels kind of halfway done, that we’re over-representing one relationship to gender at the expense of another. 

[monysmediareview]

Mortal Instruments Series Review

My first review! Yay! 

We’re going to start with a series I recently got very into and then very out of: The Mortal Instruments series. I only read the first 3 books. I started the 4th and simply wasn’t interested, but we’ll get into that. 

This is honestly going to be a mixed review. There was a lot that I really loved about this series and was super happy to see so many well written or well thought out elements, but there’s also a lot that I wasn’t pleased with and could have done without. For the purpose of this review I will only be talking about the books and not the show or the movie, but again, we’ll get to that later. 

First thing’s first: the lovers to siblings back to lovers plot

What the actual fuck was that? I mean, I get it, the drama of it all was intense and emotional. I loved it for that but let’s take a moment to really consider what was wrong with this. I could have gotten on this band wagon, because it is dramatic as hell, which I love. But there are several moments throughout the first three books where, to Jace and Clary’s knowledge, they are full blood, 100% siblings, but they still make out. 

Outside the Wayland house in City of Glass they literally lay in a field, making out, taking clothes off. Not only is the world around them quite literally ending but at this moment they are under the impression that they are siblings. But they do it anyway. Which is disturbing to say the least. Sure, it makes it that much more of a relief when we find out they aren’t siblings and that Jonathan is a whole other person, but there were other ways to do that. This is a story read by a ton of young, impressionable, mostly female readers and that is just such a strange message to send. They’re already confused and worried about the world going on around them, why on earth would you throw that in, too? Thinking back to middle school, I can remember at least 2 cases of brothers and sisters being accused of hooking up and I now wonder if this series had anything to do with that. I shudder to think about it. 

Izzy deserved better

Right off the bat, we see Izzy through Clary’s pick me girl eyes and she does not like Izzy. She’s threatened by her and her connection with Jace. Again, why are we alluding to siblings hooking up with each other? It’s weird and uncomfy and Izzy deserved better than that. 

She’s a strong, independent, smart, well trained, self sufficient woman and I would have read so much more about her if it was there. Izzy is emotionally mature, resilient, and in my opinion would have been a much better main character for a series like this. There was no reason for Cassandra Clare to make Izzy so unlikable or have Clary put her down like that. This was actually an amazing opportunity to pass the Bechdel test but to have a strong female/female relationship and set a really good example for the younger readers. 

The Jace/Clary/Simon love triangle was weak 

I’m a sucker for a good love triangle. It’s an old, played out trope but I can’t help it. The drama of it all is intriguing and I like them. However, the love triangle with Clary and Simon and Jace just wasn’t juicy enough. Having Clary date Simon simply because she couldn’t be with Jace anymore was really weird, especially considering Simon had almost given up/gotten over Clary because he was interested in Izzy. Then, he drops Izzy, runs to Clary and then they just stop dating and decide to be friends. And then he goes back to Izzy from what I can tell from the beginning of City of Fallen Angels, which I think discredits her even more to go back to someone who left in her in dust like that. But I digress. 

If there was going to be a genuine love triangle, there needed to be a struggle of choice. Having her only choose Simon because he was what was left over was not a strong plot point and I felt that it took away from the story. It could have even been improved if Jace had shown outward jealousy or tried to convince her not to be with him but instead he ignored it. But that takes me to my next point. 

Jace was kind of an asshole 

I understand the idea of a “bad boy” love interest. It’s hot, it’s interesting, it’s everything every girl wants. But I’m also kind of over it. And in this case, it didn’t even stick. Jace very quickly goes from complete asshole to emotional loverboy and while I’d normally love that, it actually felt unintentional. I don’t have too much to say about this other than begging for writers and readers to have higher standards for male love interests in these types of stories. 

Jace’s unconditional love for Clary even though she’s boring

Category is: more tropes I’m kind of done with. 

The thing is, Clary isn’t anything special. It’s why I really don’t like her as a character. It enforces this trope of these “regular” but also “not like other girls” girls who get a bad boy to fall in love with them and suddenly be soft and gentle and kind just for them. It’s not realistic and it is so so damaging to the young girls who read things like this. Not that I think we should censor art or writing in any way to make it more morally upstanding or appealing to certain groups, but I do think that in wide spread media it is important to be conscious of the impact your work might make on certain groups of people. If a story like this needed to exist, then maybe it shouldn’t have been marketed to the audience it was. And let’s be real - there was no reason these characters couldn’t have been college aged instead of 16. 

Back to the topic at hand - Jace has completely unconditional love for Clary. I think that’s super cute but it is almost unhealthy the way he’s obsessed with her. Maybe it was just how I read it but I think there could have definitely been a better way to express that he’s in love with her without making it seem like he would die without her. 

Moral of the story, kids - let’s stop romanticizing unhealthy relationships. 

Simon being a Jewish vampire was a fantastic idea 

If you follow my main blog you probably know how much I love vampires. It’s kind of my thing. It’s why I picked up this series in the first place; because I was told that it had a really cool vampire subplot and it absolutely does. 

Vampires have always had a strong connection to catholicism, what with the crosses and the holy water and the churches and all that. It had never even occurred to me that a Jewish vampire might have to abide by different rules and it begs the question of how religion plays into vampirism in the first place. 

I don’t want to spend too much time on this because I could write pages and pages and pages on my take on vampires but I just wanted to praise this aspect of the series because it is badass. I hope we see more vampires of other religions popping up in media in the future. I think that would be dope as hell. 

Alec and Magnus are my OTP of this series

As far as love stories go I really don’t think it gets better than this couple. There wasn’t too much of them in the books I read but I became absolutely obsessed anyway. Magnus, who seems to be portrayed as some kind of bad boy in his own rite; you know, like an immortal whore, falling in love with Alec. Alec who is strong and kind and loves with his whole heart but hides who he really is. They help each other change for the better and seem to really complete each other. Even if this wasn’t entirely intentional, I’m here for it. I would die for them. If/when I review the TV show there will definitely be a ton about this. 

There are far too many parallels to Twilight for my liking

Okay, there aren’t that many. SMeyer does have a quote about how much she loves the series on the front of all the books that I have, though, and that’s too much already. Beside that there are a few things I noticed. 

Bella is obviously SMeyer’s self insert character and that makes me think that Clary is too. First of all the names are incredibly similar and let’s just take a look at Cassandra Clare.

Look familiar? 

Not to mention the story was stolen in the first place, but that’s for another review. I plan on reading that series as well to make my own observations. 

This series did not need to exceed 3 books

By the end of City of Glass, the story felt over to me. There were a few loose ends but nothing that ultimately made me want to keep reading and that’s why I think the 4th book fell flat. The entire thing could have been wrapped up nicely in three books or the end of the third book should have been more enticing and inviting to another installment. 

So, overall, I did enjoy the series. I think a lot of the characters were really well written, the dialogue was good, and the plot, while it has its flaws, was interesting at the very least. I’ll definitely be giving the rest of the books a shot at some point since the show opened my eyes to what plot lines may have been followed and I like that idea a lot. I know it seems like I really hate this series, but I don’t. It certainly has it’s issues but if you’re looking for something fun to read that you don’t plan on taking too seriously then I highly recommend. 

Until next time, friends!

[lavenderek]

Why do you hate Ian?? When i was a kid I LOVED What A Girl Wants. I had such a crush on Ian :(

i am happy to go off thank you for this opportunity, long post under the cut

in case somebody wants to read this but doesn’t know what “what a girl wants” is, it’s a movie from the early 2000′s starring amanda bynes as Daphne. 

she grew up in new york with a single mom, Libby. she has an estranged father played by colin firth, Henry, who doesn’t know daphne exists. libby is a singer who works weddings a lot. 

libby and henry were star-crossed lovers, basically. henry is an english aristocrat with political aspirations, and his family believed marrying libby, who is living her stevie nicks fantasy, would damage his career; so they got her alone and convinced her henry changed his mind and didn’t want her. libby left, not yet knowing she was pregnant, and then spent 17 years pining for him. 

daphne has spent her whole life romanticizing the idea of her father coming to get her, so after she graduates high school she chooses to fly out to england and surprise him. when she gets there she is disappointed to find that he is engaged to a woman who has a daughter about daphne’s age, but tries to make it work anyway. 

daphne is clumsy and very casual, so hijinks ensue. henry’s fiancee and future stepdaughter are evil and conniving. 

daphne is rejected and bullied by the fiancee and stepdaughter and she struggles trying to fit in with aristocratic society, so ultimately she leaves. henry is upset about this because he learned to love her, and subsequently he discovers she was being mistreated. he breaks up with the fiancee and flies out to america to surprise daphne. daphne gets into oxford u somehow and they all live happily ever after. 

the first person daphne meets and gets to know in the movie is a local musician named Ian, who tells her she was born to stand out. he has minimal effect on the plot, like, i could write him out in two minutes, but god forbid we have a teen movie without a romance in it. they’re immediately attracted to each other and he proceeds to be a very bad boyfriend that the audience is supposed to find morally upstanding and charming. 

this post is about how it did not work and i don’t like him. 

The Superficial Shit: I’m Not About It

i’m immune to motorcycle boys. motorcycles are impractical and loud. get a muffler. i think if you buy a motorcycle you have to sign a contract promising to idle on your motorcycle for ten minutes every morning at 6:30 so that everyone in the neighborhood knows you have a motorcycle. so i don’t care that ian is A Bad Boy. 

i’m also immune to english accents. it’s just like, an accent. it’s fine. i’m supposed to find everything he does inherently charming because he has an accent and he sings, but i don’t, so, try a little harder.

like, i’m also not impressed by sporty types, but i still accepted “a cinderella story” because austin had a character progression and i could see why sam found him attractive. 

ian has no character progression. he starts out confident and independent and he ends up confident and independent. he remains happily working class with a more or less successful band the entire movie. nothing daphne does affects him negatively except that one time she fucks up and blows off a concert he wanted to go to. 

so as a result i’m not invested in anything he does. the only interesting thing he does is first building up daphne’s confidence and then getting mad and tearing it back down when she’s doing something he doesn’t personally find important, which is the next thing. 

The Worst Boyfriend: Why Am I Not The Center Of Your Universe?

here are the first three pieces of information ian learns about daphne:

her mom is a musician 

she is american 

she is here to find and get to know her politician father, Lord Dashwood

he’s very supportive of this endeavor, right up until it gets difficult. he’s like, “you came all this way, he’s your dad, you should definitely meet him.” 

she publicly fucks up a couple major society events and then is like, “hey, i’m putting my dad’s career in jeopardy, so in order to stay and get to know him this summer i’m gonna prioritize these events a little more.”

and ian is immediately like, “you’ve changed,” and dumps her lmfao

her lifelong drive to find and get to know her dad is one of the first things he learns about her. why does he think it’s so stupid? why am i supposed to care about his opinion? 

daphne, probably: this thing is important to me. ian, probably: ok, that’s fine.  daphne, probably: woof, in order to keep up with this thing i have to try a little harder.  ian, probably: hm. actually, this is unimportant.  daphne, probably: i’m going to do it anyway.  ian, probably: what? didn’t you hear me? i just said it was unimportant. why aren’t you quitting immediately? my opinion should be your primary concern. you know what? i’m done.

i had the same problem with nate from “the devil wears prada.” i will never understand the idea of seeing someone you apparently care deeply about very stressed out trying to accomplish a goal, and being mad that they’re not super fun and interesting right then. sometimes a person you care about is going through something. let her vent and buy her some ice cream. 

if your partner stops being supportive and understanding the second your life gets stressful or complicated, that’s kind of a red flag. the real test of a relationship is when you have to support each other and maintain your bond even when you’re trying to get something done, or even when you’re having a rough time and you’re in a bad mood. 

ian fails this test because he’s weirdly judgmental about it all.

Attitude Stinks

before the change ian hates, daphne is late to things, she dresses casually for formal events, she gets into a screaming physical altercation with someone at a party, and because she was acting out a lot at a ball she’s blamed for the destruction of a prized, historical piece of architecture. all of these cause scandals that embarrass henry and make him look bad in tabloids. he is in the middle of a campaign for a political position, so this is bad. 

after the change, daphne reaches out to her debutante grandmother for guidance and starts wearing socially acceptable clothing, goes to events where she is expected, and is quiet and respectful at an event where she’s supposed to meet the queen of england. this is all very successful for henry. people go up to him and tell him daphne’s great, and she somehow ends up in a tabloid that talks about how great she is lmfao. 

all of this takes a lot of effort from daphne, though. she’s stressed out. while this works out for henry, it isn’t working for daphne. she’s doing all this so that she can be accepted by her father’s family, but the fiancee and stepdaughter don’t want her around, and henry is passive throughout all this. he doesn’t know she’s actively being bullied, but he’s also letting his fiancee direct him away from daphne. so daphne ultimately leaves. 

here’s where ian comes in. ian tells her a story toward the beginning of the movie about how his mother was also an aristocrat. he tells her she was rejected by society because of classism towards ian’s father. this is framed as a demonstration of ian’s values. the fact that his mother rejected being a debutante is a source of pride for ian. 

but the problem is that this is just because ian likes the choice she made. he’s not proud that his mother took control of her life and made her own decision. he’s proud that his mother rebelled. you know this because he sums up the story with this line -

daphne: what happened to your parents?  ian: they’re as poor as church mice and the happiest people i know. 

- and because his entire conflict in the movie is that daphne makes a different decision. 

ian’s mom chose her husband over her parents and the life they wanted for her. daphne is choosing the family she’s been wanting her whole life over a guy she’s known for like, a month. ian is the biggest whiner about it. he storms out on her. she runs into him at an event and asks to talk to him, and he tells her no. he only forgives her when she quits and goes back to america. 

there are a lot of dudes like this out there. he loves a strong, unique woman, as long as she fits seamlessly into his life and makes decisions he tells her to. yawn. 

Makes No Sense: Why Are You Here?

ian is somehow ubiquitous in debutante society. he and his little band are hired to play at every ball daphne goes to. why??

a huge plot point is a moment where daphne attends a terribly boring coming out ball for a pair of very meek, shy twins. daphne delights the twins by going out of her way to liven up the party. she convinces ian to play loud rock music and encourages everyone at the ball to dance. the bass is too loud, though, and somehow causes an antique chandelier to fall. this is a big scandal. 

the whole thing that’s emphasized during this scene is that daphne is shaking up the scene and that this music is unorthodox and unwanted at these high society type functions. 

which all begs the question of why these people keep hiring a local rock band for these events. he’s playing at at least one other ball later on in the movie. the music they play doesn’t really fit in with the tone of the events, which are the kind of affairs you’d wear a tiara to. these are very formal events. why are we hiring ian and his band, and where did you guys even find him?? 

in the scene where daphne gets into a fight with somebody, she’s at a fancy outdoor event, the kind of place you’d wear a tea length dress and a big hat. ian is also there, working in the parking lot as a parking lot guy. 

daphne’s thrilled, but she does ask why he’s there. he’s basically like, “i have lots of jobs.” for somebody who hates deb society so much, he does take a lot of jobs at deb events. why don’t you work in a restaurant or something? does that offend your punk rock whiner sensibilities? 

also, he’s boring and i think daphne should go for somebody who makes her laugh. 

Has Spiked Hair

lots of gel, no other info needed. wash your hair. very sculpted hair makes people seem less down to earth. it’s not relatable. 

I Will Fix It

so ian doesn’t help with the plot at all. the only time he helps daphne is in the chandelier scene. the rest of the time he’s just there to date her and talk to her a lot about how cool it is to stand out and not fit in. 

his role in the movie is to cause more tension and place more pressure on daphne. he behaves like she’s making a moral choice, when really she’s making a behavioral choice. 

i think using him to vocalize her conflict is a mistake because it’s framed as Stand Out vs. Assimilate, when that has nothing to do with daphne’s motivation. 

daphne’s Want is to be with her dad, and her Need is to be accepted and wanted. as a result, ian rejecting her because he doesn’t like the choices she’s making comes across as entitled and cruel lmao. it’s directly antithetical to daphne’s journey. she never once says anything about loving standing out. 

here are the ways i think this could be fixed: 

if you want it to be a moral thing, make it a moral thing. 

give ian a best friend who is gay, and after daphne decides to fit in with society, she won’t be seen with the gay friend anymore. or after daphne decides to fit in, have her be super judgmental of people who aren’t succeeding as much as she is. then when she decides she’s fed up, have her stand up for them. 

that would make ian being mad about her “changing” make sense. and we, the audience, would be like, “yeah, this is misguided and goes against what daphne believes.” 

not breaking things or yelling at a royal event isn’t a moral stance. why are you so pressed. get a hobby 

if you want her thing to be standing out, make it standing out. 

standing out isn’t a conflict in the whole movie. henry’s flaw is being passive. daphne’s flaw is being embarrassing at parties because she’s clumsy and she likes to meet new people and dance and stuff. libby has no flaw except that she was a victim of classism. 

the twins at the party are dowdy and shy, and daphne gives them a makeover off screen lmao. ian is single, and daphne dates him. 

so make standing out the recurring issue. make daphne super obsessed with fitting in. in the very beginning, she runs into a girl she knows at a wedding. the girl is kind of privileged and successful, and daphne reveals that she’s a free spirit who doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life. instead, make her hedge and hem and haw and try to make herself seem more successful to the girl. make her Want to be fancy and part of her dad’s high society life, but her Need to “be herself.” 

maybe the twins are secretly super weird and quirky, and they’re depressed trying to fit in; and their big moment revealing being cool now at the garden party is them wearing loud patterns and dancing when the music starts playing. maybe ian is super funny and goofy and the parties suck until he and daphne trick the singer into leaving the stage, and ian jumps onstage and plays a fun song. 

make libby have been rejected because she always started talking politics at henry’s parties and she’s kind of radical. 

maybe daphne: hey, i’m sorry, but you can’t come with me to the party next week anymore. maybe ian: what? how come, i rented a tux for this. maybe daphne: sorry. i’m trying to behave.  maybe ian: haha what does that mean? you’re not trying to fit in with all those stuffy losers, are you?  maybe daphne: no, i’m trying not to ruin things for my dad. it was a big deal when you were super messy at the garden party.  maybe ian: wow. i seem to recall you being “messy” right along with me. sorry for embarrassing you.  maybe daphne: ian, don’t take it personally. we can still hang out sometimes, i just can’t go places with you.  maybe ian: no, thanks. 

i don’t prefer this, because i’m an introvert and people who think someone they don’t personally find interesting are fundamentally worse, are boring and annoying. i wouldn’t find this story relatable or compelling at all. i’m 9000 years old and i’m like, “what if you guys respected each other and participated in society, though?” i wouldn’t enjoy this story. but at least it would make sense why ian’s bothered by daphne not “standing out.”

i think the entire reason this movie was made is that trailer moment from the boat scene where ian’s like, “i don’t understand why you want to fit in, when you were born to stand out!” so that’s how you can keep that dumbass line. 

make ian have an arc himself. 

in the movie, ian is initially helpful and gives some backstory, and then partway through the movie he gets mad at her and breaks up with her. he forgives her at the same time as henry realizes daphne’s unhappy, right at the end. 

instead, make ian become helpful as the movie progresses. 

so first of all, take the scene toward the beginning where he’s in the boat allegedly showing her how to practice being poised, and he tells her about his mom being a disowned deb. move this scene to the beginning of the third act. 

next, make it so that ian was rejected by his grandparents. maybe ian at some point also defied his mom to seek out estranged family; but where daphne’s dad let her stay, ian’s grandparents insulted him and told him they didn’t want him around. they called him illegitimate and a mistake. so when daphne chooses to try to conform, ian is reacting to those feelings rather than projecting his own feelings of personal superiority. 

and finally, make daphne try to fit in much sooner, but make her super bad at it. my roommates and i watched this movie the other night and one of them made the very good point that daphne’s grandmother and father sit her down and are like, “there is a certain way you’re supposed to behave,” but they don’t tell her how to do that. 

so let’s actually keep that part. maybe daphne overcorrects. she knows she’s fucking up, so she believes she shouldn’t be doing anything fun or interesting or making conversation with anyone. this isn’t great. her charm is in how friendly, fun-loving, and proactive she is. she does what she wants and people find it refreshing. make people start to be like, “wow, lord dashwood’s daughter is kind of weird and stiff. it’s clear she isn’t used to places like this, what a rube.” 

now we get to the third act, and the boat scene. in the boat, ian tells her about his family, and apologizes and offers to try and help her, if this is what she wants. now ian is playing more of an active role, and he’s contributing to her life in a positive way. 

because as it is, he does nothing that i couldn’t get rid of very easily. so...

get rid of ian. 

here are the effects ian currently has on the plot: 

daphne riding away on the back of a motorcycle makes henry worry about her, and he realizes he’s developing paternal feelings toward her. he calls libby and libby affirms and empathizes with those feelings. 

ian is in the band at the party where the chandelier is destroyed. 

ian talks a lot about how daphne’s supposed to stand out. 

ian stresses daphne out, which sort of artificially raises the stakes. 

ian shows up right at the end to reward daphne for existing. 

especially because ian’s criticisms are so disconnected from daphne’s motivations, nothing he does is particularly helpful to the plot in a way that he couldn’t be replaced. 

daphne has a tattoo in the movie, and when henry sees it, he’s sort of like, wow, she’s kind of a wild child, she reminds me of me when i was young. instead of a motorcycle boyfriend, make daphne get the tattoo in london. henry calls libby like, “she just got a tattoo!” and libby is like, “i remember you holding my hand while i got my first tattoo.” 

maybe the live band takes a break, and daphne sneaks up and hooks up the speakers to her ipod or something, and she plays super loud music herself. 

i already talked about how pointless this is. also, we don’t need a greek chorus telling us what’s going on. show, don’t tell. 

daphne is already stressed. those motivations can come from inside daphne.

why would henry seek out daphne’s ex-boyfriend and fly him out to new york to impose on daphne and her mom? this is so weird. go home. 

ian is replaceable. to the left, to the left. 

[niphredil-14]

Napoleon/MC -- Skeletons in the Closet - Part 1

Taglist:

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Napoleon X Reader -- Skeletons in the Closet

I sat in our shared bedroom, trying to shake the shock while staring at the small bundle of cloth and flesh in my arms. I was terrified of what my lover’s reaction could possibly be as I recounted the events of mid-day in my head for what felt like the millionth time. 

“Thank you, MC,” Vincent beamed at me as I placed his plate down in front of him, with the church bell tolling loudly a single time, reminding me it would only be a couple of hours before Napoleon would be back with Isaac from tutoring the children of town. 

“You’re welcome,” I responded, as I went to pick up the next plate. My actions were stopped when I heard a shrill shriek of my name, my old name, the one I changed when I walked through the mansion’s door. I froze immediately, and then quickly whipped around, my fists clenched by my sides, and ready to swing, when I was met with a familiar, but terribly despaired face. I was standing face to face with an old colleague and friend of mine. “Mia? What the hell are you doing here? How did you even get here?” It was only then that I noticed the small figure she cradled close to her chest. She stepped closer to me, slowly, before she began speaking. 

“The other agency. They found me, even after I resigned from work. They were still determined to wipe out our branch, all of us. I, I quit after I met someone about a year ago. We were happy! We had this precious little girl! But, then, they came along. Now he’s gone, and I will be too, before long. But you know me, the same reckless girl I’ve always been, and no way in hell am I going out without a fight,” At this point her eyes were beginning to water, which was strange to me, she has never feared a fight, or even death before. But then, my eyes trailed back down to the child in her arms, and it mad sense. Se continued talking, explaining, “But, I know damn well that it’s a suicide mission, but I can’t leave her all alone in this world, they’d kill her too!” She was sobbing at this point, but said one last thing to me, “I need you to take her. If you can find your way to wherever this is, and I can as well, then it’s a safe bet that they can too. So please, take her, train her, teach her to fight, to kill, to do anything if it means to survive.” And with that, she hugged me, pressing the small baby in her arms into mine, she placed a quick, friendly kiss on the cheekbone, smiled at me one last time, and then turned, and ran. 

“Mia! Wait! You can’t just leave a kid with me! Hold on!” My screaming was in vain, however, and she was gone before I knew what had happened. I stood there, frozen, before glancing over to everyone else in the room, who looked just as shocked and confused as I felt. It took me a few moments, but I finally spoke up, though it was quiet and broken, “Sebastian, can- can I,” I was cut off though, bu his voice sounding much softer than its usual professional tone, 

“Take all the time you need.”

That’s when there was a knock on the door.

I had immediately run to the room I shared with Napoleon, staring at the baby, most likely only a few months old, that I supported in the crook of my arm. I was so, so scared in that moment. More than I had been in any fight, on any job, throughout my whole life. Napoleon and I hadn’t discussed ever having children; what if he didn’t want her? My overthinking brain was interrupted as the door slowly creaked open. My head snapped up, and my eyes started watering. I opened my mouth to speak, but wasn’t given the opportunity.

“Shhh, don’t say anything, Nunuche.” He spoke, and he strode over to me, sat on the bed next to me, and raised a hand to gently brush the baby’s soft cheek. All I could do throughout the moment was stare at him, and sniffle. 

“Did they already tell you?” I croaked out, closing my eyes. The next cheek to be brushed was mine, and I felt his calloused hand cup my cheek, as I leaned into his touch, taking it all in, out of fear he would disappear. 

“Yes. But, I don’t know what it means, not completely.” He spoke, moving his hand to my hair, pushing my head to rest in the crook of his neck. “Agencies? ‘Teach her to fight, to kill, to do anything if it means to survive?’ What did that woman mean?” I didn’t want him to know, I just wanted to forget about my past, I wanted it to stay there, behind me. But things rarely go as planned. 

“I used to work as an assassin and a mercenary for an agency that specialized in that line of work, and any independent work that would be associated with the criminal underground and the deep web. There were other agencies, rival ones, that would do anything to take us down. It isn’t easy to get out of a business like that, but I knew a guy. He got my friend Mia, the woman who came here earlier, and me a way out. But there is always the chance of someone from a rival agency coming to try to kill you as a slight to the agency you worked for, that’s what happened to Mia.” He stayed silent throughout my explanation, and after I was done, I remained completely still scared to see the look that would adorn his face. 

“Are you okay?” I lifted my head to stare up at him, in shock, before responding,

“What?” 

“Are you okay? That must have been hard, I want to know if you’re okay.” I never cease to be surprised and amazed by his kindness. It almost broke my heart. everything that was happening couldn’t have been easy for him either, and yet, as he always did, he was checking on me first. 

“I’m okay. Just in shock, I suppose. What about you, this must be pretty hard for you. I get it if you don’t want this, I wouldn’t blame you, you know.” I said, my head sinking to look down at the child. I didn’t even know her name. 

“Who said that I didn’t want this?” He began,”Alright, I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting us to have a child under these circumstances, but I have been meaning to ask you if you wanted to have children. It has been on my mind, and teaching them to fight? My love, I can help with that, I was a soldier you know.”

“I... Napoleon...” My eyes finally overflowed with tears and i pressed my face into his shoulder to cry. We stayed like that, with one arm wrapped around my back, and his other around my front, encompassing our new baby as well, for minutes, before my eyes finally dried and I pulled myself from him to look deep into his eyes before speaking. “Napoleon, I have a lot of skeletons in my closet, and it will take a long time to get them all out, and it won’t happen all at once. Not only because of the fact that I am scared of facing what I have done, but I am scared of how you might react, so please, if things come out slowly, and it takes time for me to tell you everything, just know that I want to tell you everything, but it isn’t that easy, so please don’t be angry with me.” 

“Oh, Nunuche, I could never be angry with you over something like that, take your time.” He laughed. 

Let me know if you want a part 2!!

[doomedandstoned]

Italian Doomers BRETUS Tell Ghostly Tales on New LP, ‘Magharia’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

Artwork by DamianaMerante

Hailing from the City of the Two Seas, Italian doomers BRETUS return with a new album of ghost stories. Longtimers know that Bretus and Doomed & Stoned practically grew up together. Though the band has been active since the turn of the century, our first exposure came with their debut full-length 'In Onirica' (2012) and subsequently we formed a friendship with the Catanzaro doomers that continues to this very day. It's hard to believe they're already over two decades old (okay, 20 years young, if you like). And what do they have to show for it? A handful of LPs, an EP, and a split with fellow Italianos Black Capricorn.

If you're as much a fan of vintage horror movies, H.P. Lovecraft lore, mysticism, and the occult as Zagarus (vox), Ghenes (guitar), Janos (bass), and Striges (drums), there's a whole world of story and sound awaiting your deep dive into the Bretus catalog. Adding to their already excellent discography, a fifth album now reveals itself: 'Magharia' (2021).

I won't spoil my interview with the band (see below) if I tell you that the album concerns, shall we say, several tales of the supernatural variety. An ominous gong is struck to the backdrop of monastic chant as Magharia opens in epic fashion "Celebration of Gloom," a song characterized by a chugging proto-trash tempo, trve metal stylings, and Gothic vocals appropriate to it's subject. It's a rather grim account of a certain sacrilegious priest and his daliences with young women of the church. As a preacher's kid, I've seen this kind of thing play out a hundred times and can assure you these sweeping romances between clergy and laity never end well. In this case, it winds up with a ghoulish rite and a victim's vengeance.

"In the sky lightning strikes...wicked laments rise from the ground." Welcome to "Cursed Island." True to the spirit of the lyrics, this track really let's it all hang out, with quasi operatic vocals that occasionally erupt in maniacal laughter (reminding me vintage Reagers-era Saint Vitus, with its lusty swagger). And why not? This is after all about the mystery that surrounds one of the most haunted islands on earth.

Thus far, the record's been sporting a pretty up-beat pulse, so surely you're ready for some good old fashion doom? "Moonchild's Scream" concerns a albino girl accused of being possessed by the devil for her appearance. One day, she disappears in the dungeons of a castle and legend has it that her cries can still be heard every five years during the Summer Solstice. Doesn't get more doom than that, folks!

After a brief interlude ("Necropass"), we arrive at my favorite track of Magharia. "Nuraghe" concerns the spirit of a woman judged and condemned for a crime she was innocent of still roams among the ancient stones. Boy, the ancients sure did have a hang-up with free-spirited, independent women, didn't they? The song itself is possessed by the spirit of Pentagram in its biting guitar work and rhythmic attack. Love the riffage on this one! Some of it could have been played out just a little more for my taste, like the all-too-brief Soundgardenesque motif at the two-minute mark. It returns a minute later, again in brief. C'mon Ghenes, let your inner Kim Thayil loose! Maybe we can convince them to improv at this point with a bitchin' guitar solo at their next festival appearance. Then again, perhaps this fits artistically with the song, which speaks of obscure "grim dancing bats" and a ghost that haunts through swift shadows passing over glimmers of light. Once again, Zagrus expressive song style comes through to distinguish this as a gem of the genre. I shall be revisiting it on my personal playlist often.

"Headless Ghost" strikes graceful Goatsnake groove as the yarn is spun about the restless and tormented soul of an ancient Roman warrior who has risen from his place of rest. All he wants is the skull that was looted from his place of burial. Give it back to him! "No one will be spared tonight," the lyrics warn, as the song shifts down to a dire doom dirge as the night unveils a strange moon and the wanderings of a cursed soul, seeking his head and not more. "He is living again in this hell."

"The Bridge of Damnation" is one of the creepiest of the record, said to be about "a bridge, a young boy, and his three torturers." The mood is quite dark, with esoteric atmosphere, reverberating vocalizations, guitar and bass trading off notes. Oh, and did I mention this tale from the crypt involves death and resurrection, as well? The riffmaking and drumming are absolutely on point, as is the singing -- which by now in the record I'm not only am accustomed to, but have grown to admire. Another keeper!

"Sinful Nun" winds and grinds as Zagarus croons about the inner torment of a Sister who has never gotten over her beloved, who died under such unspeakably tragic circumstances that she decided to consecrate herself to God in celibacy. However, her vows are in vain as she still pines for her long lost lover. The verses are sung to the accompaniment of a galloping tempo, which seems to represent the fevered anguish of a soul forever stricken by grief and the haunted memories of lost love. This is juxtaposed in the chorus by a cursed riff that seems to speak as the Hand of Fate itself. "Farewell to this life," are the Sinful Nun's final words.

At last, we reach the album's namesake and though "Magharia" is entirely instrumental, it would be a mistake to assume you know what it's going to do. Around the four-minute mark, I had to check and make sure I was listening to the same album, as dark synth busted out a metronomic rhythm, leading to a declamatory section of keyboards to accompany the math-like guitar play and an improvisation of almost creepy seventies-sounding prog, which after its playful fit dissipates suddenly in a bluesy collapse.

Bretus have cooked up a remarkable horror soundtrack that, though it speaks of ancient lore, is very much a fitting backdrop to the unreality of our own times. Fitting somewhere on the stylistic spectrum between Candlemass and Paul Chain, Reverend Bizarre and Cardinals Folly, Margharia may be the band's finest effort to date. Certainly, it rewards repeated listens, and will haunt you for many years to come. Look for the record to drop this weekend (pre-order here), with multiple physical formats releasing via The Swamp Records (compact disc), Burning Coffin Records (cassette), and Overdrive Records (vinyl). Until then, you can stream it all, right now, right here!

Give ear...

Magharia by BRETUS

An Interview with Bretus

What is the concept behind the new album and what themes do you explore?

Musically the new record is most "in your face" than the previous album. Also our approach to the recording was different. We rehearsed and arranged together more than before. The result is an album more raw to us. It is a concept album born around different italian old ghost tales. Some of these is supposed to be legend or myth, who knows.

When did you write it? Was it during the pandemic lockdowns?

We had more ideas about new stuff long before the pandemia arrived. We spent this time working on the pre-production of the tracks.

Can you give us a track-by-track explanation of each song on the album?

For sure!

"Celebration of Gloom" is a strange song because there are many influences in it. Including a solo flute in the middle of the track. However is a very loud and gloomy song.

"Cursed Island" probably is the most rock 'n' roll song of the album. If you know what I mean. Rock in the attitude. Also the first video of the album.

"Moonchild's Scream" is 100% pure Doom with a heavy mid-section.

"Necropass" is like Caronte travelling the damned souls across the Stige River.

"Nuraghe" is a heavy oriented track with a very dark feeling.

"Headless Ghost" has a more stoner trend than the others and in the end there is a psycho riffing.

"The Bridge of Damnation" includes our '80s dark influences into our sound, probably the most haunted track of the album. The story is based upon an old weird story that happened in our native city, Catanzaro.

"Sinful Nun" is like an experiment and neither of us can explain really what it is... ah ah aha! For sure the most heavy track of all.

Finally "Magharia." You cannot believe it but the idea comes from a Who's album, Quadrophenia. Either of us wrote a part of the song. The result is a kind of horror soundtrack.

Magharia by BRETUS

How do you feel that your basic style or approach to song composition has changed since you first started writing songs in the early days?

You already know a lot of things about us, we know you from so long ago! Please don't ask how old we are. (laughs) Basically our approach is the same from the beginning. Of course we listen to a lot of new stuff during these years so every album brings different "colors."

Where are you most looking forward to playing live once pandemic restrictions are eased?

Everywhere! We are angry for live gigs or simply to drink beers with friends.

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[yourwitchmama]

The History and True Nature of Witchcraft

This post might piss a lot of people off, but I can’t help but give you an accurate picture of what witchcraft actually is after seeing falsities time and time again... I am kind of nervous to share this, but here is the history of witchcraft:Shamanism.That’s where it started.Without shamanism, there is no witchcraft. The idea of white British witchcraft as many think of it today (Wicca) is a remnant of Celtic spiritual traditions.  But the whole Harry Potter “wave a wand and make potions” kind of magic is bordering on fantasy.It’s rooted in shamanic principles which involve animism, (the belief that objects, places, and creatures all possess a distinct spiritual essence.Potentially, animism perceives all things—animals, plants, rocks, rivers, weather systems, human handiwork and perhaps even words—as animated and alive.)spirit working, and an extremely Buddhist concept of “we are all connected and everything is alive, there is no distinction between us and the rest of the universe.” Buddhism and shamanic thought are identical. The only difference is the shamanic concept of spirit working. In traditional cultures a “bad shaman”(someone who used spirit working/magic for selfish and harmful reasons, like cursing people)Was killed or banished because of what was to be thought of pious and impious at the time. The idea of an evil, cursing witch didn’t start with the witch hunts in Europe.“Bad witches” have ALWAYS been thrown out of society because they prove to be irresponsible, disrespectful and dangerous.The idea of a badass aesthetic witch who curses her ex-boyfriend and sacrifices cats to Baphomet is actually a Christian one.It’s witch hunt-era Catholic propaganda.So when people ascribe to that image,they’re ascribing to something that only existed in witch hunter’s pornographic fantasies.It’s not real. The whole “satanic witch” thing is a Christian invention.I get so sick of those kinds of witches because what they’re practicing is a dualistic, Christian-created pseudo-witchcraft that was never actually practiced.People don’t want witchcraft to be shamanism,and they don’t want to have that squishy Buddhist “we are all connected” mentality because it’s not dark and edgy enough, but that’s what real witchcraft is.In fact, the whole idea of “witchcraft” is a misogynistic one. It’s used to describe a woman who isn’t docile or subservient to men.If you’re an independent woman with solitary spiritual beliefs and a LOT of knowledge (about nature, spirits, medicine, women’s bodies, etc) you’re branded as “bad” and “ungodly” That’s where the term “witch” came from. It was actually first used by the Inquisition.The whole idea that intelligent, knowledgeable, autonomous women are bad and scary “witches” is a misogynistic ideology.Witches DO include things like darkness and death and decay and disease in their practice, but it’s with the knowledge that everything is connected, sacred, and has its place. The problem is, with dualistic Catholic doctrine evolving into modern western culture, we’ve fetishized death. Death is now something scary, morbid, and edgy. Same with darkness, nighttime, etc. those are all remnants of Inquisition-era witch hunters. Because those things are associated with women. So likeDeath and darkness and all that ARE witchy things. But in a much nicer, sacred way. Not in an “oooh skulls are so scary uwu I’m gonna drink blood and be a demon lol” kind of way. Do you know how Buddhists and Hindus do things like meditate in graveyards to contemplate impermanence?It’s like that. But no one wants it to be like that because that’s not nearly as thrilling and edgy and morbid. Like, most people want witchcraft to be the Catholic version of witchcraft when in reality it is MUCH more similar to Buddhism.Witchcraft is practiced all over the world too,EVERY culture has their version of a witch/shaman, and so there are lots of different cultural variants with nearly identical philosophies. If you visited a Mongolian wise woman, you wouldn’t be like “ooh she curses her ex-husband and celebrates Samhain by partying in graveyards”Like, no, bitch. The Mongolian wise woman is NOT like that. Why?Because that image is a Catholic one. It’s propaganda. The same would be true if you visited an African Orisha priestess,a South American curandera (I can't spell it omg), a Siberian shaman, or a voodoo priestess. There’s a book called “Grandmothers Counsel the World” and it’s a book about like 13 different wise women and shamans from all over the world who come together because all of their cultures had the same prophecy about world peace.You can see how each of these grandmothers are shamans.And even though they come from all over the world, their beliefs are almost identical.The West has a really skewed view of witchcraft because we WANT it to be fetishized into something edgy and sexy and cool, when in reality that’s all a fantasy made up by the Inquisition. You can still wear black and like dark and edgy things, but when you forget what witchcraft IS and you forget the roots or the spiritual component, you’re not really practicing something real. That’s why when people ask me how to get started with witchcraft, I recommend books on shamanism and cultural differences in witchcraft all over the world. It’s important to know WHY witchcraft works and HOW to do it before you jump in and think that your sage is gonna protect you but you don’t know why or how to treat the sage with respect Like, ok, I swear I’m almost done ranting,But the entire premise of witchcraft is that you’re someone with a lot of knowledge. In most cultures, their word for “witch” translates to “one who knows” or “one with knowledge”. At its core, witchcraft is about being well-informed and knowledgeable—about the wisdom of nature, medicines, science, and spirits. Armed with knowledge, an independent woman is scary to a lot of people. She’s opinionated and can make good, educated decisions. The problem is, when modern witches do things like worship “the Goddess” or smudge with sage and stuff, a lot of them don’t say why. Who is the goddess? Why are you worshipping her? Who is she to you? If you just decide to worship a goddess without knowledge of spirits, you’re just blindly following a religion without questioning it. That’s the opposite of witchcraft. Witchcraft encourages direct revelation, meaning you learn from personal experience. If you don’t listen to your intuition or allow yourself to challenge your perceptions, willing to grow and change as new information comes along, you’re just following a pattern of confirmation bias.Witchcraft is scary because there is no cushy, comfortable assurance that you’re 100% correct about everything. You’re constantly being challenged, broken apart, and changed so that you can grow. It’s no coincidence that all the shamanic gods and spirits are also spirits of death, change, and transformation. When you think about it, the universe is in constant flux. Nothing is static. Everything is always changing. If witchcraft is about attuning yourself to nature, then you’re destroying the idea of permanence and attuning to the constant changes of the universe. That’s a potentially scary path. But it’s the most liberating and potentially enlightening. THAT’S what witchcraft is. Its recognizing that the universe isn’t predictable or always safe, and learning to attune yourself to that with the trust that it’s going to benefit you rather than hurt you. You have to be willing to change whenever change is necessary, to grow into a new person when it’s time. People who identify as witches should not incorporate their personal fashion and art into their actual witchcraft. It is okay to create an aesthetically pleasing altar/blog/bedroom but the whole wearing a witch hat and actually believing that what you are doing is actually witchcraft is not real. Again, what they’re practicing is a dualistic, Christian-created pseudo-witchcraft that was never actually practiced. You can separate your artistic expressive self and your witchcraft. It is not only embarrassing to the witches who want to be a part of this culture because it is plain wrong, but it is also enforcing the Catholic Church's propaganda.Again, I am not saying fashion and aesthetic is bad. I am saying SOME witches think that the creepy edgy thing is real witchcraft, and they spread a false message to baby witches who need to be guided by a witch who knows their stuff. I am not sure what kind of energies that would bring into your craft. 

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 10: Darlings

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

…in which Harry is excited but Y/N is worried.

Word count: 4.4k

Chapter 9: Three’s A Crowd - Harry learns a big lesson, and Y/N cannot tolerate his assistant.

Wattpad link

A/N: Please enjoy and spam my inbox. - Allie.

.

.

.

Y/N was pregnant.

The doctor had confirmed it. A pregnancy test stick had confirmed it. The morning sickness had confirmed it. So it was official. She was now positively pregnant.

Before all of this, she had been devastated and almost depressed thinking she and Harry might not have children of their own. Now that the universe had given them one, she fell into a state where she was constantly afraid and anxious. She'd blame it on the hormones and the way her body was changing. The baby was probably not even...a baby yet, and she had already come up with a bunch of different scenarios where she turned out to be an awful parent. It was not until now that she realized how strong her sister had been for bringing up baby Eleanor on her own. Y/N was lucky to have a loving husband, her family, and supportive friends by her side.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!!"

Harry burst right through the door. He had just got back from work, still in his suit, and his face was white. But what he found was just Y/N and Layla sitting on the bed, blinking at him.

"Who just screamed?!"

"Layla did," said Y/N with a beam. "I just told her the news."

"I cannot believe I'm about to be a godmother!" Layla punched the air and then drop her smile to give Harry a questioning look. "Wait...why are you holding a frying pan?"

Y/N was in hysterics when her husband lowered his frying pan and rolled his eyes. "I didn't have time to choose my weapon when I heard you scream. I thought my babies were hurt."

"Ew?!"

"Not you, Layla. I meant Y/N and our actual baby."

Layla ignored him and turned back to Y/N. "He's gonna be using plural nouns from now on, isn't he?"

"He's been doing that since the doctor visit." Y/N gave her best friend a shrug and automatically lifted her face for Harry to kiss. Layla sighed in contentment as she watched them.

"I'm so excited for you guys and also for me! When I was little, I always wanted to be Cinderella and now, I, Layla Scott, is about to be the fairy godmother."

"Who says anything about—" All it took was one fierce glare from Layla for Harry to change his opinion in a heartbreak. "Yes! You're gonna be the best godmother! No doubt!"

"I'm sorry baby Styles," Layla leaned down and whispered to Y/N's nonexistent baby bump. "Your daddy's a fake."

"Well, your aunt Layla's a bully."

"Godmother! Ugh!"

Smirking as Layla jokingly flipped him off, Harry dropped his head to give Y/N a few more pecks, one hand under her chin, the other on her belly. "I'm gonna take a shower now. You ladies have fun without me."

"Don't worry," Layla gave him a lopsided grin. "We always have fun without you."

"Dick."

"Pussy."

"Real mature guys. I can totally see myself trusting you two with this child." Y/N snorted as Harry walked out with his 'weapon' after giving Layla a mocking face.

"Love you, darlings," he said. "And that plural noun doesn't include Layla!"

"Thank you, asshole!" Layla shouted at the closed door, making Y/N laugh even harder.

"He's very excited," Y/N said now that her husband was gone. Though smiling, the girl was subconsciously fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. And even such a little action couldn't get past Layla's eyes.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you upset?"

"What? I'm not!" Y/N scrunched up her face. "I'm perfectly fine."

"You don't look fine though. You blink a lot when you lie."

"I do not!"

"Here she goes again." Layla scoffed. "I don't get it though. You're finally pregnant. Harry's falling more in love with you, I didn't think it was possible, but I was just proven wrong." She stuck out her bottom lip and lifted her shoulders. "So maybe instead of looking constipated the second he turns away, you should be happy."

"I'm not unhappy, I'm just..." Y/N paused to search for the right word and then went with, "worried." Taking a deep breath, she continued, "what if I'm a terrible mother? What if Harry's the favorite parent and I'm the one my kid lies to and keeps secrets from? What if we're both terrible and our kid hates us?!"

"The kid's not even in there yet and you're already freaking out about him or her going through puberty?" Layla breathed as her eyes rolled upward. "Look, I don't hit pregnant women. But I'll slap the shit out of you if you say that again, ya hear me? This isn't you talking. This is the pregnancy hormones. Your anxiety isn't real, okay?" Quickly, she grabbed Y/N's shoulders and signaled the girl to copy her as she inhaled deeply and let go of that breath.

"Feel better?" she grinned. Y/N nodded once, looking less uneasy now. "Good. Just know that we're all here for you. You're gonna be fine."

As it turned out, Layla was right.

Soon the weekend arrived, and the young couple had grown used to the new rhythm of their life. Y/N had been paying more attention to her diet and taking vitamins regularly, so she didn't feel as terrible as she had for the first few days. This morning, Harry had a meeting with a client, so he wasn't there when she woke up. He'd left her breakfast on the kitchen table with a note saying he loved her and would miss her terribly until he came home. After everything that'd happened to them, he was making more effort to make sure she knew how much she meant to him. It began to feel like those college days again, and she wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

"Nope, I won't do it!"

"I'll pay you."

"You haven't even paid me for catsitting Tiger!"

Y/N brought Treasure toward Nam's desk and couldn't help but overhear his little argument with Stephanie. While the blonde was rambling on, Nam seemed pretty annoyed. That wasn't at all surprising, because Stephanie's only talent besides being a bitch, was being an annoying bitch. Y/N supposed it was mean to think about her neighbor like that. But that woman deserved to be called a bitch after all the things she'd said and done.

"Y/N!" Stephanie grabbed Y/N by the arm the second she saw her. "Tell him to babysit my niece for me!"

"Oh, now you're gonna drag Y/N into this?" Nam laughed wryly as he took the white cat from Y/N's arms. "Even if you promised me a fortune, the answer would still be no. I already know I wouldn't get a single penny from you. At least Treasure's parents pay me well."

Treasure meowed softly as he stroked her head. "Do you agree, my little furry baby? Tiger's parents are stingy white people, aren't they?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms. "Well, cats, children, they're all the same."

"Well, thank God, you're not a mother." That was meant to be an insult, but Nam had unintentionally given Stephanie a new idea.

Her eyes lit up as she turned to Y/N. "Since you're about to be a parent, would you like some practice?"

"Oh, no! Leave Y/N alone!"

Stephanie completely ignored Nam as she went on before Y/N could say anything. "Don't worry, my niece's a good kid. Her parents go away on business trips all the time so she's very independent. All you need to do is to keep an eye on her until her mum picks her up."

"How old is she?"

"Y/N, you're not actually considering this!" Nam cried out.

Y/N gave him a shrug as she pursed her lips. "Tomorrow's Sunday, so why not? And I'm also good with kids."

"That's the spirit!" Stephanie smacked her on the arm, causing the poor girl to flinch. "She's five. The sweetest five-year-old you'll ever meet! Her name is Darling."

Y/N saw Nam hug Treasure and turn away as he muttered something, probably cursing Stephanie. But this time, it wasn't Stephanie's fault. Y/N simply thought this was a great opportunity for her and Harry to practice being parents. It was never too soon to get prepared for such a big change in their life.

Besides, with a name like Darling, the girl must be an angel. Now Y/N couldn't wait to talk to her husband about their new plan for Sunday.

.

.

.

"Babe, I still think you're really overthinking this."

"I'm not," Y/N shouted from the living room as she checked her watch. "Would you just hurry up?! We're gonna be late."

"Relax! They literally live just across the hall!" he said and finally stumbled out of their bedroom.

She stared at him, lifting an eyebrow in amusement. "Why are you carrying your laptop?"

"I gotta check my emails." He chuckled and pressed his lips to her temple. "Come on, babe. Let's go fake-parenting."

Laughing, she reached out to hold his hand.

They had never been in Mason and Stephanie's flat and had never intended to set foot in there, unless it was the only safe place in a zombie apocalypse. So when they entered 'the devil's home' for the very first time, their jaws nearly dropped to the floor.

The place was much cleaner and tidier than they'd imagined. Harry had often joked about his cousin's flat looking like a porn movie set, with sex toys hanging on the walls and adult magazines lying all over the place. At least that was how he imagined porn movie sets would look like. However, the flat was actually decent. Y/N amused herself with the thought that, those who had never met Mason and Stephanie would think they were a basic white couple named Kevin and Barbara, who baked cookies and went to church every Sunday. Lesson learned: never judge a book by its cover.

As Y/N went into the kitchen to check what Stephanie had left for them in the fridge, Harry made himself comfortable on the couch (after having made sure there wasn't a cum stain on it) and opened his laptop. They waited for about fifteen minutes when the doorbell rang, and Y/N rushed to it with a big smile on her face. She opened the door and was greeted by a tall woman slightly older than her.

"Hi! You must be Mary!"

"And you must be Y/N, the babysitter!" The lady returned a smile as she fixed her bucket hat that covered most of her bobbed blonde hair. Then, she turned back to call her daughter who was still idling in front of the lift. "Darling, come here, baby!"

The five-year-old pouted as she crossed her arms and waddled toward her mother and Y/N. She was as adorable as the image Y/N had created in her mind, with big bright eyes and brown straight hair that fell right past her tiny shoulders. The ladybug backpack she was wearing was too big for her body that it made her look even smaller. She could be the baby girl Y/N had always wanted. But then again, she shouldn't be. The girl might look like an angel, her attitude, however, said the opposite. Her little round face contorted as she shot Y/N a spiteful glare. Why?! They had only just met!

"Hello, Darling." Y/N crouched down with both hands on her knees despite the unwelcoming reaction. "My name's Y/N. And that—" she pointed at Harry who raised his hand and gave the child a wave "—is my husband, Harry. We're your babysitters for today!"

Darling looked at Y/N, and then Harry, and then back to Mary. She repeated that one more time before telling her mother, "please pick me up on time, mummy. Don't leave me too long with these strangers."

The mother gave a startled Y/N an apologetic grin before turning back to the child. "Of course," she said. "But you gotta promise to be nice and listen to Y/N and Harry, okay?"

Darling looked annoyed as she crossed her arms, still, she replied with a nod, said goodbye to her mum and followed Y/N into the living room.

"Okay." Y/N breathed as she shut the door. "Why don't we just start by getting to know each other?"

Darling shrugged off her backpack and spoke with a straight face, "I want to color."

"Oh, okay." As Y/N plastered a smile on her face, Harry was biting his knuckles so he wouldn't crack up. "I'll get us some paper and we'll color together—"

"I said I, not we."

"Wow..." Y/N heard her husband say, but she was too stunned to react. The kid hadn't broken that intense eye contact with her that made her feel extremely uncomfortable.

She swallowed hard, nodding her head. "S-sure. Why don't you wait on that couch with Harry?"

Darling didn't reply and dragged her backpack toward the couch to sit on the other end, as far away from Harry as she could. Now that his wife had left, Harry thought he should start a conversation to get to know this child. But before he could come up with anything to say, Darling was the one who broke the silence.

"Why do you wear so many rings? Are you married to many women?"

"No!" The man laughed, his eyebrows pulled together. He didn't know why he was nervous talking to this five-year-old when he'd never found it hard to speak to a girl before (Y/N had been a special case). He stuttered for a moment before adding to his answer, "this is my wedding band, see?" He showed her his ring finger, smiling proudly. "This is the only ring that matters."

He thought she would react in a different way, a more childlike and positive one. However, what he got was a hardened expression that seemed like she was silently judging him.

"Are you lying because you think I'm a child so I don't know what cheating is?"

He arched an eyebrow in doubt. "Do you know what cheating is?"

"Yeah, aunt Steph taught me that word," she said casually. "Cheating is when a husband or a wife sleeps with another person that's not their wife or husband."

"Jesus Christ!" His eyes widened as he straightened his back. "She taught you that?!"

"Yeah." Darling nodded once. "But I think she's wrong, because what if you want to have a sleepover with your friends? You have no choice but to sleep with them, right?"

"Right." He chuckled nervously.

Y/N soon returned with some paper, and Harry didn't think he'd ever felt so relieved. Talking to that girl was like being interrogated by the police. He'd never been interrogated by the police before, but in his imagination, this could probably be worse. He took advantage of Darling being distracted by her paper and crayons to drag Y/N to the kitchen, telling her to keep her voice down.

"Harry, we are not having sex while there's a kid in the other room!"

Her reaction made him chuckle as he held her arms. "Who says anything about sex?"

"I'm not sucking your dick either."

"I may be horny for you all the time, but I know my limits. I'm only here to tell you that the child scares me."

"Don't you think it's a little too late for that?" she asked, pointing to her belly.

"No, I mean Darling!"

"You mean what?"

He exhaled and rolled his eyes, but still found the little misunderstanding hilarious. "I was talking about Darling, the little girl."

"Just call her 'the little girl' from now on to avoid confusion."

"Got it." He snorted and proceeded to tell her about their previous conversation in the living room, adding, "I haven't seen her smile, isn't that strange?"

Y/N gave him a shrug. "Maybe she's a mini Wednesday Addams."

"Maybe she's a mini Layla."

"Okay, that's funny."

Harry tried to look as serious as he sounded but his own joke amused him. Smirking, he went on, "I bet she's out there drawing a picture of the two of us with our heads cut off."

"Harry, you're overreacting. She's only a baby," Y/N said and kissed him on the cheek.

Other than being an emo five-year-old, Darling was actually a good kid. She had been quiet the entire time while working on her drawings. She was using a lot of red, which reminded Y/N of what Harry had said earlier, and now she was afraid to see what those 'works of art' were about.

Soon it was lunch and Darling stopped coloring as she told Y/N she was hungry. Y/N wanted to be a good soon-to-be-mother, so she asked her husband to play with Darling while she made some sandwiches for the three of them.

"No, wait, I'll do it!"

Before Y/N could protest, Harry had already dashed into the kitchen. She knew he couldn't cook to save his life but didn't want to fight him on this, so she sat back on the couch and let him be their chef. It would take forever until they had something to eat if at all. So while waiting, Y/N used Harry's laptop to go on YouTube. Just when she thought she could finally relax and watch some funny cat compilations, Darling's loud squeal made her head turn shot up.

"What happened, dear?" Y/N put down the laptop and came to see what was wrong.

The little girl stuck out her bottom lip, her eyes welled up as she held the red crayon now broken in half in her little palm. Y/N squatted on the floor with her elbows on her knees as she gave Darling a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry, you can still color with that."

"It's broken."

"Yeah but..." Y/N took the two halves, each in one hand. "Now you have two red crayons."

"Half a crayon doesn't make a new crayon."

"Who told you that?" Y/N asked, her eyebrows rose.

Darling pursed her tiny heart-shaped lips as she thought for a moment. She was probably trying to decide if she should tell Y/N what she'd never told anyone. Eventually, she confessed, "aunt Steph told mummy that mummy and daddy's marriage was a broken crayon. You can still color with it, but it'll make the picture ugly and messy."

Y/N was frozen by those words. A little girl should not have heard something like that about her parents, ever. Feeling a big lump in her throat, she tried to search for the right thing to say to Darling. It was only then that she looked around at the paintings scattered on the carpet. They weren't what she and Harry had assumed. They were just awful, messy, childish drawings of what any child would view as a happy family. Darling had used a lot of red to draw the hearts. There were so many hearts surrounding her, her mother and her dad. She'd even used that red color to cross out the face of another woman standing in the background, who, Y/N believed, was her father's mistress. That explained why she'd thought Harry was cheating. Her dad had done it, maybe all the men would too.

"Here." Y/N picked up one half of the red crayon as she sat down, crossing her legs. To Darling's confusion, she took a new sheet of paper and began to draw.

She'd been told by her niece Eleanor and Jamie, the boy she used to babysit during college, that she was good at drawing. That was what she loved about children. You didn't have to give it your best shot and they would still think you were extraordinary, simply because you were an adult. And she was right. Darling's mouth had formed an 'o' shape as her eyes followed every single movement of the crayon sliding across the paper. She was in awe to see Y/N quickly sketch a house with a nice garden, the fences, some trees, even a swimming pool. Y/N finished her 'masterpiece' with a family of two, a little cat, and an arrow pointing to the woman's belly as she wrote down the word 'BABY'.

"So this..." She sighed happily now that her work was done. "This is my family," she said, pointing to the picture. "This is Harry, this is me, and you can't see the baby because the baby's in my belly."

"Does your house look like this?" Darling asked, her eyes went round. It was the first time Y/N had seen her act like an actual five-year-old. And there was something so endearing about that. This was when Y/N's maternal instinct kicked in, she felt her heart flutter in a way that she'd only experienced when she was with Harry.

"Nah, we live right across the hall," she told Darling. "But this is our dream house."

"Why don't you buy it? It has a pool and everything!"

"We'll buy it someday. Right now, we want to stay here to be close to work and to our friends."

Darling clasped both hands in front of her chest. "Can I come visit when you finally buy this house?"

"Sure, love." Y/N nodded and handed her one half of the crayon. "Wanna draw yourself in?"

"Can I?!" she exclaimed with excitement, smiling from ear to ear. That was the first smile to be seen on her, and Y/N felt so proud knowing she was the reason for it.

"Sure, babe. You can put yourself next to me and the baby."

Harry finally returned with three (slightly burnt, but still edible) grilled cheese sandwiches. After having struggled in the kitchen for half an hour, he was now considering signing himself up for a cooking class so he wouldn't depend too much on his pregnant wife. But maybe he'd save this talk for later, because his mind went blank the moment he saw his wife...laughing with mini Layla.

"H-hey guys," he spoke, catching the girls' attention. "What...what are you guys doing?"

"Darling drew a picture of us. Wanna see?"

"Is my head still attached to my body?"

"Harry!"

"Alright, alright. Coming."

He put the plate down on the table and sat down with the girls on the floor. His reaction was the same one as Y/N had before when he saw what Darling had been drawing the entire time. It was far different from the horrendous scenario he'd painted in his head.

Excited, the girl stood up and raised her artwork to show it to her two audiences. "So this is you, this is Y/N, this is the baby. I made it a girl because I want a little sister."

Harry chuckled but Y/N shushed him so Darling could finish her presentation, "and this is me, the babysitter."

"She volunteered to be our babysitter," Y/N told her husband before he could ask.

"Told ya she's a mini Layla," said Harry as he waggled his eyebrows, making Y/N giggle and pushed him away.

For the rest of the afternoon, things had gotten much better for Harry and Y/N. They played a few games (that was how Harry discovered he gave great piggyback rides) and did some more coloring. Since Harry had accidentally ruined one picture by coloring outside the lines, the girls threatened to take away his crayons, but eventually agreed to let him color the insignificant details like the trees and the flowers in the background. Honestly, that was the most therapeutic activity he'd done in a long time. He didn't even bother to check his emails and chat with his clients and employees. All he cared about was this happy moment with his wife and their play-pretend family of three.

In nine months, this all would be real.

.

.

.

"I told you it'd be worth it," Y/N said contently as she followed Harry into their flat.

Darling had just left with her mum, who had been so surprised when her daughter appeared with a massive grin and showed her the picture she'd drawn with half a crayon. Y/N hoped Mary had understood and would try to do better for her little daughter. That was what that child deserved.

"I love to see you so happy," said Harry as he hugged her from behind, kissing the spot right below her ear as she held his face. "Told you you'd be a great mum. You've been acting like my mum since the first day we met."

She rolled her eyes, a corner of her mouth turned up. "I just realized that the personality of the child depended a lot on her parents' relationship."

"That's right." He nodded, holding her stomach with both hands. "Our baby's gonna be an angel, because we're in love. I love you, you love me, we're a happy family."

"I can't have a deep and serious talk with you if you keep quoting lyrics from Barney & Friends, H."

"You're so lame. Our baby would've loved that." He scrunched up his nose and tilted his head to kiss the corner of her mouth. Then, he brightened. "Hey, I think the name Darling is very cute and unique. Let's name our baby something similar, like Honey. Baby Honey sounds so cute!"

She raised an eyebrow at him, lips pressed together as she tried to contain her laughter.

"No? Okay, I'll come up with something else. But I will not give our baby some basic names like Kevin or Barbara."

She froze. "Wait, how d'you..."

"Did I say something wrong?" He gave her a confused smile as he didn't get why she seemed so shocked.

Y/N slowly shook her head and kissed the dimple on his cheek. "I almost forgot that we were like the same person sometimes. Is it weird that I want to marry you again?"

"Not at all. I would do it all over again with you." He beamed, holding her tighter. "Don't worry, love. I promise that I will be the most responsible father and role model—

"Harold!" Mason's voice on the other side of the door interrupted Harry at once. "Harold, I have your laptop!"

"Shit, my laptop!"

"Let's see what kind of porn you have in here!"

"Fuck you, Mason! Give it back right now!"

Y/N hadn't said a word but Harry had already chased his cousin down the hallway. With a gentle smile, she stared at the open door and said to their baby, as if it'd already been there, "we'll give your daddy another try tomorrow."

[jacquiesims]

Viper Canyon - Chapter Five

‘...She felt frantic and rushed, like there were a great deal of things she wished she had said to him and now there was no time for any of it.’

January 1852

Winnie entered the general store that morning, a gust of brisk air blowing in behind her as she closed the door with a solid click, smiling at the owner.

“Why, if it isn’t Miss Hawkins! How good to see you. I trust you and your family are doing well?” 

Mr. Monroe’s cheeks shone forth like two polished red beets above his snowy white beard as he shuffled forward from the back of the store, meeting Winnie in front of the till. 

“Good morning, Mr. Monroe. We’re doing very well, thank you for asking. And yourself?”

“As well as I can be with this arthritis bothering my old bones,” he replied, still smiling. “But that’s enough of that. Are you here for the job that I spoke about with your mother?” 

“As a matter of fact, I am. I came here to let you know I’d be happy to work at the store and I was very flattered you thought of me for the position.” 

He let out a great laugh from the bottom of his belly, reminding Winnie of Father Winter. She couldn’t help but smile in Mr. Monroe’s presence. He was the very personification of cheerfulness walking around on two stout legs.

“That’s wonderful to hear. Though I did want to ask you about something I heard – Viper Canyon may be small but gossip exists in every community, no matter the size – when I was in church just yesterday I heard something about you, and I wanted to know if it was true.”

Winnie was puzzled. What sort of gossip could exist about her ordinary life? Beatrice was the source of all the excitement in the family. Perhaps the rumor was about her younger sister and Mr. Monroe had gotten confused. 

“Of course. You can ask me anything, Mr. Monroe.” She tried to keep her face as warm as possible, lest her confusion confirm any false suspicions. 

“Is it true that you’re to marry Peter Langford, Joseph’s new wife’s boy?” 

She felt her heart start to beat a mile a minute. How had Mr. Monroe heard so soon? Her family had planned on keeping the engagement a secret until Peter’s eighteenth birthday in August. It was more than a few months before they’d planned on letting the news reach the townsfolk. Who had found out?

“Well…it doesn’t feel right to lie to you. Yes. Peter and I are engaged, but we won’t be married until after he’s turned eighteen and built a homestead.” 

Mr. Monroe nodded with a small sigh. “So, the rumors were true then. I congratulate you on your engagement, but unfortunately I have to rescind my offer for you to work in my store.” 

Winnie covered her mouth in shock as her jaw slacked open. “What? Why? Have I done something wrong?” She immediately began to recall the image of Mamma counting small coins on the table in the dim light of a single candle, caught when she thought her children had already gone to bed. 

“You’ve done nothing wrong, I assure you. But this position is for long-term employment, dear. I simply cannot have a married woman working behind the counter – you should be at home with your family, getting ready for your wedding, and after that you should be taking care of your husband. Not to mention that after the marriage you could be with child at a moment’s notice, and where does that leave me? High and dry with no salesgirl.” Mr. Monroe looked uncharacteristically sad. He gave Winnie a pitying look. “It would have been wonderful to have you working in the store with my son and myself. It breaks my heart to take away my offer, truly.” 

“Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?” Winnie cried, her voice cracking. “This job means to much to me and my family….” 

“No. I’m sorry, dear, but I won’t budge. It won’t do to have a bride-to-be as my salesgirl. If your sister were a bit older I’d be happy to extend the offer to her, but since not, I’m posting an advert in the newspaper today to fill the position.” 

Winnie was devastated. How could she return home and let Mamma know she had failed the family? She had longed to find a way to make herself useful in Viper Canyon, and her one opportunity to do so had been snatched from her over a marriage she still had mixed feelings about. 

In fear of shedding a tear in front of Mr. Monroe, Winnie turned to leave, only to crash straight into something solid and warm.

“Oh!” Winnie cried, rubbing her sore nose. “I’m so sorry – Elijah?” 

The formidable wall of flesh that she had crashed into was nothing other than the chest of a one Elijah McLain. He blinked at Winnie several times before clearing his throat. 

“Excuse me. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” 

She didn’t know what to say. The only other person besides herself, her family, and the family of her fiancé to know about the engagement was Elijah himself – the pieces clicked together in her mind as she stared into his green eyes. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I must take my leave. Good day, Elijah.”

As Winnie stormed down the dusty dirt road home, her mind was hot and boiling with uncharacteristic anger. Rationally, she knew that no matter what, Mr. Monroe would’ve had to let her go from the position. But there was no room for rational thought in her mind – in the heat of her frustration and embarrassment, all the blame was piled on Elijah’s head. 

There was no other explanation for how Mr. Monroe had heard about the engagement. Both families had been sworn to secrecy and Elijah was the only soul outside of either party to hear the news when Peter had slipped up in front of him the other night.

By the time Winnie had returned home, her head had been slightly cooled by the walk and the time spent in the warm sunshine. She knew it was wrong and sinful of her to hate Elijah for gossiping, but no matter how much she tried to suppress her frustration, it came boiling back up like hot water bubbling beneath a pot lid. 

With a great sigh, she entered the warmth of her family’s home, where Mamma was putting away the washing powder. 

“Why, you’re home early. I thought Mr. Monroe would’ve wanted you to start today.”

“Well…the truth is, Mamma…” Winnie wanted to dance around the subject as long as possible, but she knew deep down it wouldn’t do her any good. “Mr. Monroe changed his mind because he heard I’m to marry Peter. He said I should be at home preparing for the wedding.” 

Mamma froze for a moment. “He did? Oh, Watcher…that would be my fault, then.” 

Winnie’s head snapped up from the ground. “Your fault? But how?” 

“I was discussing the details of the wedding with Verity in church yesterday. We weren’t sure how we were dividing up the duties of preparing, and neither of us were very careful about making sure there were no prying ears around…we eventually noticed Mr. Monroe listening in on our conversation, but it was too late. We had hoped his hearing had gone enough in his old age that he wouldn’t have been able to make out our conversation, but alas, apparently it hasn’t.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Well, you’ll have to forgive me. We can find some other way to make do, I’m sure. We always have.”

“It’s all right, Mamma. We can think of other ways to get by…but my, that’s such a relief.” 

Mamma gave her daughter a curious look. “A relief how?” 

Even though Winnie wanted desperately to lie in the moment, she found that it was nearly impossible to fib to her mother. 

“I was thinking that Mr. Monroe had heard from Elijah about the wedding. I was in a terrible mood coming home from the store about it.” 

Without another word, Mamma simply smiled to herself, busying her hands with tidying the kitchen once more.

After a long day of tending to the livestock, the garden, and the rest of the chores, Winnie’s arms and legs were dreadfully sore. She had just finished washing her face in the basin upstairs, relieved to have the sweat and grime off her skin. Before she could collapse into the armchair with a good book, however, Mamma called to her as she came down the stairs.

“Winnie, be a dear and help Papa with the horse, won’t you? He’s in the barn.” 

Knowing that she would smell like horses until her next bath, Winnie sighed, taking her aching and tired limbs out the door with her to the barn.

She entered the open barn doors to find unexpected company – for the second time that day, she was surprised to see Elijah before her. 

“Oh! I didn’t mean to interrupt. I didn’t know Elijah was visiting.” 

The trail guide gave Winnie a stone-faced glance as he finished handing something off to Papa. Winnie’s father looked guilty as he tucked the item into his trouser pocket. 

“He was just stopping by about a little bit of business, that’s all.”

“All right, then…” she muttered, wondering what sort of ‘business’ Elijah would have with her father. “I’ll tend to the horses, Papa.” 

“I guess I should be on my way,” Elijah said. 

Papa gave Elijah a straight-lipped smile. “Thank you. I’ll be over in two days’ time, just like you asked.” 

Winnie looked at the two men with curiosity glimmering in her eyes. What reason did Papa have to visit Elijah’s home? Right away, her mind began to race with ideas about a clandestine agreement between them. But what had Elijah handed off to Papa as she arrived at the barn? They seemed to be anxious to keep the arrangement under wraps.

“I suppose this is farewell, then,” Elijah said to Winnie suddenly. 

She turned to face him. “Farewell? Are you going on a trip?”

“Er…in a manner of speaking. I’ve got to leave to head back east tomorrow if I’m going to make it to Independence on time to escort my next train.” 

“East…you’re going back east?” Instantly, she felt frantic and rushed, like there were a great deal of things she wished she had said to him and now there was no time for any of it.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been hired as a trail guide again. Eventually, I know folks won’t have much need for men like me, but until then…I’ve got to make my living somehow.”

“So, you won’t be back until the fall?” 

Elijah nodded solemnly. “I’ll be back by October or November, if the conditions on the trail are fair. If not, December at the latest – but hopefully it won’t come to that.” 

“Watcher forbid you get stuck in any ill weather,” Papa said quietly. “I’ve got to run this into the safe inside. Thank you again, Elijah.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

Winnie watched as her father left the barn and entered their humble house. 

Now that they were alone together, Winnie was at a loss for words. There was a terrible hurricane of mixed emotions whirling around in her brain, making her feel whiplashed. She wasn’t sure exactly how to feel now that Elijah was leaving – her frustration over losing her job, her lingering worry over the argument with Bea, the anxiety about their finances, her forthcoming wedding woes, and on top of it all now Elijah was leaving and may not return to Viper Canyon safely, if at all? It felt as though there was a great elephant on her chest. She took a strained breath, trying to calm her senses. 

“I’ve asked your father to watch after my livestock and my home while I’m gone,” he explained. “I was handing him payment when you walked in.” 

There was a small raindrop of relief on her conscience. “That’s very kind of you.” 

“I’ve asked Joseph to do it for the past few years, but…I hope it’s not rude for me to say that I knew your family needed the money more.” 

“It’s not,” Winnie replied quietly. “Not rude at all.”

They stood in the barn for a few moments, neither sure of what to say. Elijah was the first to speak.

“You’ll…you’ll be married by the time I come back, won’t you?” 

The question took Winnie off guard. There was a sudden pain in her heart. “Well, it all depends…perhaps I shall be. Though I would like it if you could be at the wedding.” 

She remembered their awkward waltz at Joseph and Verity’s ceremony – Elijah was little more than a stranger to her then, and now she regarded him as a close family friend. There was a heavy guilt in her mind as she recalled her foolish anger earlier that day. She should’ve known better than to assume Elijah would ever put her or her family in such a position. 

“I hope I make it back on time.”

“I do, too.” 

She tried her best to smile, but it was unexpectedly difficult under the circumstances. Her family had been lucky when they crossed the trail. Although they encountered some hardships, they managed to all make it the almost two thousand miles to Viper Canyon safely and in one piece. Most weren’t so lucky. What if Elijah was hurt, or taken ill, or even worse – killed? The same bubble of sorrow in her throat that she had felt when Mr. Monroe took away his job offer agonizingly returned. 

“I’m going to miss you, Elijah.” 

He looked surprised, if not a little embarrassed. 

“I…hope you make it back safely. I’ll pray to The Watcher that you do.”

“Thank you.” 

Again, there was more pained silence. Elijah, too, was feeling that same sense of urgency to tell Winnie something – anything – that he couldn’t put his finger on. 

“I’ll see you, then. In the fall.” 

Winnie met his eyes. “I look forward to it.”

END OF PART ONE

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(I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. If anyone is looking to raise money for a charity, I recommend getting people to pledge one dollar for every time I make Elijah pose with his hand on the back of his neck. 

There will be a time skip after this chapter, so be prepared for things to be very different when Chapter Six comes! As always, let me know what you thought and thanks for taking the time to give this a read :)