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silverutahraptor · 2 years

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I’m posting older writing snippets and AU ideas, so have a HashiMada one!

Premise: Madara timetravelled back into his younger self, and he is so very tired of everything. First Person POV.

Somberness overtakes Hashirama’s features as he considers my own. “...Madara?”

At his soft inquiry, there’s suddenly a dozen different feelings burning behind my eyes, and I want to scream and I want to burn things and I want-

I want-

“I’ve been dreaming about Izuna dying,” I say instead and watch the sorrow and sympathy steal on his lovely face.

“It’s always by Tobirama’s hands,” I add before he can open his stupid mouth to say something stupidly uplifting.

I shouldn’t fall apart in front of him like this, he shouldn’t even know about this sort of vulnerability, but the truth is—I can’t.

I can’t I can’tican’tican’t

When Izuna dies, I can’t-

When he dies-

When-

There are hands in my hair and I’m leaning against a broad chest. “Breathe, Madara,” a voice says, and there’s something so familiar and warm about the voice that I do what it says.

Breathing comes like such a relief that I realize I must not have been doing it for a bit.

“I won’t let that happen,” Hashirama says. His voice is still soft, but there’s a hint of steely determination in it that makes me crane my head back to catch a look at his face. He’s staring right back into my eyes. “I won’t let Izuna die, Madara,” he continues and- and- did I say all that out loud earlier? Oh no. “And I won’t let you go mad, either” he adds. His arms, still around me, tighten. It feels comfortable.

I want to laugh.

I want to cry.

I want to yell and scream and ask this man who he is to be so certain to avoid fate.

“If only.” I whisper into the safety of his neck before I fall silent again.

If only we weren’t all mere pieces in fortune’s game, destined to live and kill and then die when our roles fulfilled their purposes.

If only I hadn’t tried and tried and tried to bring an end to this endless war.

If only all that had gotten me wasn’t a Clan that looks at my back with scorn and a brother that frowns at me more often than not.

If only all the options I hadn’t tried are the ones that would cost me a brother’s love or life or maybe both.

(“Izuna,” I ask, because I’m tired of thinking this over on my own, “if you were Clan Head–what would you do?”

“Senju isn’t able to kill you,” my brother immediately scoffs, shaking his head.

His trust in my strength threatens to choke me up, so I continue hastily. “No, just- if you were Clan Head instead of me, what would you do?”

Izuna is still frowning at me.

“I’d still be around, just- you’d be Clan Head?”

His eyes narrow.

There are only so many ways such a scenario could happen.

“Indulge me,” I add.

“I’d kill all the Senju, of course.” Izuna is still staring at me like he’s trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle.

He has been looking at me like that more and more recently.

“I’d send you on more solo missions,” he continues after a pause. At my raised eyebrows he snorts. “The ones that are high risk, but with little chance of contact with Senju forces. You leave too many of them alive.”

I stare.

“You do, Niisan.” Izuna shakes his head. “We wouldn’t be in such a long term impasse if you would just kill more of them.”

I open my mouth to say something, but- he’s right.

I hate killing Senju shinobi.

They all die so easily.

‘They could be y o u, Izuna’ I want to say but don’t.

My little brother hates being compared to the Senju in any way.)

“If only…?” Hashirama prompts after long minutes stretch past.

I shake my head.

A miniscule tightening of the muscles under my head is my only warning.

Then Hashirama rolls both of us off the roof.

“You-”

We fall down in a tangle of limbs and hair.

I stay laying where I landed on the ground, blinking up at the sky.

“I am dead,” I say when I’ve caught my breath, ignoring the twinge of sadness that thought always brings me. “You killed me and now I’m dead.”

Hashirama’s laughter fills the air.

His warm hands close around my face, and then his face—upside down—is hovering way too close. “You kneed me in the ribs on the way down! So maybe we both died and this is the Pure Lands…”

The idiot is still smiling, but his words sound almost wistful.

I could probably stare up into his face forever, which is why I shove him away and sit up.

If the Pure Lands exist, it seems that I am denied entry. Why else would I be here now, like this. Unable to truly change things.

The familiar feeling of Hashirama’s chakra lingers in the air, so I survey our surroundings. We landed in one of the smaller side gardens in the visitors’ wing of the palace, but the plants in this particular garden seem to have mysteriously gained some life of their own. I’m pretty sure that none of the plethora of plants I stare at should be blooming right now, nor have grown such dense foliage that it’s nigh impossible to catch a glimpse of the courtyard’s interior from the outside or above...

“…Really?” I finally ask.

But because I’m me, I also flick on my Sharingan for a moment and let a subtle genjutsu settle on the new plant growth, making it impossible for anyone to listen to our conversation or even remember there is anything out of the ordinary in this particular courtyard.

I hesitate before quickly glancing at Hashirama, still channeling chakra through my eyes. It’s rare that I get to remember him like this, carefree and playful and grinning, and not grim and covered in mud from a battlefield.

Hashirama smiles even more widely and stretches like a cat. “Want to get a good look?”

His hands stray towards his collar and start to loosen it.

I abruptly turn my head away, cheeks burning. “Don’t play around,” I hiss and deactivate my Sharingan.

One glance is enough, but still.

Hashirama is Hashirama, however, so his arm quickly settles around my shoulders again. “I did hear a laugh when we fell down the roof.” His chin is digging into my shoulder. “So that did cheer you up!”

“You threw us off the roof,” I huff, trying to ignore that he’s also kind of breathing directly into my ear.

“I wanted to watch the stars with you! You told me so many Uchiha legends about them but I forgot most of them by now.”

I sigh, and somehow fail to shrug him off my shoulder. “…The roof would have worked better, idiot.”

Neither of us gets up or mentions that down here, no one will find us for a little while.

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princehrry-writings · 3 years

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Angel with a Shotgun

here we go. this popped into my head after i watched a tiktok about angel shots. if you go on a date and don't feel safe for any reason, please please please find a safe way to remove yourself!! asking for an angel shot is a great way to do that!!

WARNING: tw mentions of implied SA, stalking, harassment, police, EMT's, hospitals, alcohol, being drugged, swearing,

please don't read this if any of this stuff makes you uncomfortable. i don't get graphic with anything but still, put yourself first and be safe!! i love you <3

wordcount: 1907

Harry Styles x Reader

masterlist

It started off as a normal night. Y/n had met this guy in class and he’d asked her out for drinks. She didn’t get any bad vibes from him, none of her friends had heard anything bad about him, so she deemed him a suitable guy to go have a fun night with.

She’d met him at a bar just off campus and was having a really great night! The pair were dancing and talking and laughing, genuinely enjoying herself for the first time in a long time on a first date.

In Y/n’s experience, usually guys were creeps and girls never decided she was what they were looking for, so she had a hard time in the dating world. This guy, Jack his name is, seemed ok. Keyword being seemed.

She should have known. When he asked to meet her at a bar all the way across town, she should have put it together that he wasn’t what she was looking for. He didn’t put up too big of a fight when she insisted they meet at the bar closer to campus, that way she would know people there and be in a familiar place if she needed to get away from him quickly.

When he started making comments that were off putting to her, things she doesn’t really want to repeat in fear of actually vomiting all over the table, she starts looking for a way out. He keeps trying to play footsie with her under the table and is getting visibly frustrated at her lack of participation, so she tells him she’s going to get them another round of drinks after finishing the one that was already on the table and quickly exits the booth before he can protest.

Harry had been watching from across the room at the bar, seeing this couple who looked like they were on a first date. He watched as they laughed and talked, getting to know each other. But as the night went on, it seemed the woman was getting more and more uncomfortable.

He had told his coworkers to keep an eye out for the two in case anything was to go down, and when he sees her get up and make her way over to his bar, he has a feeling he knows where this is going.

“What can I get for you, love?” He asks her, leaning over the counter to hear her better. She sniffles a little, and takes a deep breath. Leans in before timidly asking.

“Can I get an angel shot?”

Harry’s senses are quickly kicked into gear and he nods, gesturing to his coworker that he’s gonna get this taken care of before meeting her on the other side of the bar. What neither of them had realized was that 1. Jack was walking up to them and 2. he had slipped something into her drink apparently because suddenly she could barely hold her own body weight. Harry caught her before she hit the ground and Jack rushed over, playing the part of concerned boyfriend but the bartender saw right through it.

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to back up.” He tells the man, authority very present in his voice. Jack doesn’t take well to this, eyebrows furrowing and voice lowering in defense.

“S’cuse me mate, but I’m gonna take my girl home. She’s had a few too many, f’you know what I mean.” He chuckles and goes to scoop her up. Harry stops him, putting a hand on the guy's chest, stepping between the girl and this guy.

“You'll do no such thing. This girl has obviously been roofied and it’s you she was running away from. The only thing you’ll be doing tonight is talking to the police, who are making their way in right now to do with you what they will.” Harry says, watching the color drain from this bloke's face. He turned around, ready to make a full run for it but was stopped by not only the police but also a crowd of other guys who heard what was going down and were ready to step in if assistance was needed.

“I didn’t do anything wrong here! She was trying to take advantage of me!” He cries as he’s put in handcuffs and taken away.

“Yeah, it’s obvious the one who’s passed out cold because she was drugged was trying to take advantage of you.” Harry yells after him before turning around and scooping the girl into his arms. Due to the commotion and the presence of not only police but also paramedics, the premises was cleared and the bar was shut down for the night. Harry held the passed out girl close to his body, having had his coworker fetch his jacket from the break room to keep her warm now that the club wasn’t filled with body heat, and waited for the paramedics to come in for her.

When they come in and place her on the gurney, she starts to stir. Little whines and groans escape from her and the EMT’s check her vitals, deeming her stable and letting Harry know she’s going to be ok. He decided to follow to the hospital just so she has a familiar face when she wakes up and has someone to explain her situation that isn’t a scary doctor.

. *

It’s a few hours of unrestful sleep at her bedside and his co-worker showing up with a change of clothes for him when she finally starts to come to.

Groaning and reaching up to hold her head but realizing her arms are too heavy to move, she rasps out, “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital,” Harry explains, wanting to reach out and hold her hand but not wanting to startle her, “You’re ok but the doctors wanted to keep you overnight for observation.”

“You’re the bartender I asked for the angel shot aren’t you?” She questions after a pregnant pause. He hums a confirmation and she looks over his face a few times, before tears well in her eyes.

“What happened?” A few tears fall from her eyes. She can’t remember much after leaving the table, just the sight of green eyes and curly brown hair nodding at her when she asked for the shot. The rest is pretty much a blur, just random flashes of scenes she can’t quite make out in her head.

“You came over and asked me for the shot and then a few minutes later you passed out. The bloke you were with slipped something in your drink. And unless something happened at the table that I didn’t see, then nothing else happened. Do you remember anything happening at the table?” He explains, hoping her answer is no.

He’d learned her name from the EMT’s who checked your ID once you were loaded into the ambulance but he didn’t know the name of the man she was with. He realizes she doesn’t know his name either.

“No, was just being a sleazy dick. I don’t know how he could have slipped me something, I didn’t get up before I went to you. Must’ve turned my head for a bit too long. God, I should’ve known this was gonna happen!” She groans but he shakes his head.

“You can’t blame yourself for this, darling! He’s a sleazeball, a no good lowlife. S’not your fault.”

“What’s your name?” She voices, peering into his pretty green eyes.

“M’Harry,” he smiles, timidly reaching for her hand, rubbing his thumb soothingly across the soft skin.

“Thank you for staying with me Harry! For helping me…” Y/n says quietly. He shakes his head with a small smile.

“No need to thank me, pet. Would do it over and over again.”

Her smile, while tired and defeated, was enough to show him her gratitude. She feels a weight lift off her chest, hearing that nothing bad happened after she got to him.

She knows it’s probably just nightingale syndrome, but Y/n thinks Harry is terribly adorable. With his messy brown curls and tired green eyes that make it look like he hasn’t slept in ages. She thinks she could see herself going out with him, which is an odd thought considering what happened last night. You’d think that would be enough to turn her off to men for good, but there's just something about him. But now isn’t the time to bring any of that up.

“I’ll call a nurse, tell em’ you’re awake.” He voiced, making his way to the door after gently placing her hand back on the bed.

. * .

“Ms. I’m just calling to let you know the restraining order has gone through. You won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

Y/n felt a weight lift off her chest. After months of being harassed and stalked, she would finally be left alone. Harry leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek, stroking the loose hair out of her face.

“S’ finally over, lovie. It’s all over!.” He whispered in her ear, pulling her closer to him, rubbing up and down her thighs. She felt tears spring to her eyes, tears of relief, tears of joy, but also tears of sadness because the last few months had been some of the hardest of her life. She was ready to move on and be done with this nightmare.

When Jack had found out Y/n and Harry got together after that night, it’s like it activated something inside him. Like he thought she was just playing hard to get and he had to literally stalk her to get her attention. He seemed to think she was playing a game. Somewhere in his twisted little mind he had the audacity to think she actually wanted him.

He’d sit right next to her every single class period and would get up and move next to her when she tried to get away with him. He’d show up at her house, sitting across the street just watching her front door, he’d call her phone and text her, he’d wait outside her other classes and follow her around campus. She complained to her university, told them what was going on and they didn’t really do anything. She went to campus security and they brushed it off because “She wasn’t in any danger. He just wants to get to know you.”

So she finally was forced to file a restraining order. Her case was still open, from when he got arrested that night at the bar. They're charging him with second degree assault and criminal harassment because apparently she’s not the only girl he’s done this to. Many other women had spoken up since news of that night had spread around campus. Yet still, the university did nothing.

Harry stood by you every step of the way, picking up the shattered pieces on hard days. He wanted to beat the shit out of this guy and he would if it wouldn’t interfere with the case. He knew you needed him and he didn’t want to chance anything.

There was a pregnant silence between the two lovers. Just letting the silence wash over them, letting themselves breath freely without this weight suffocating them, they basked in it.

It wasn’t completely over, because there was still a trial, but he wouldn’t be coming around without getting arrested again.

That was enough for Y/n to breathe easy.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #x reader #harry x reader #bartender!harry #bartender!harry styles x reader #bartneder!harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #bartender!harry styles #tw sa #one direction #fan fiction #one shot #angel shot

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

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Affection II

Characters: Childe, Ganyu, Kaeya, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,577

Warnings: None

Premise: Sometime we know something is impossible from the start. But still we walk towards it, even if we know it will hurt us. It’s only flirting, only a smile or a hug or some food. Even if nothing comes of it, there is nothing to regret. Even if it hurts.

In which the reader gives affection, expecting nothing in return.

Author’s Note: Evidently I’ve really missed writing these properly. I had such a great time writing, and I hope you guys enjoy these just as much as I did.

Also I’ve decided the version on Ao3 will now always be without bullet points, so if you prefer that format the link will be in the reblog.

Childe

You’d been floored by Childe pretty much since the day you two had met.

What had turned into the two of you meeting had started out a most unfavorable encounter. You’d gone to Lingju Pass, trying to survey some of the carvings of the old structure, and attempting to see the sort of methods used to construct such vast rocky complexes at the time. Unfortunately this goal had quickly turned into a goal of “don’t get caught”, as you’d found the Pass crawling with Fatui members. Though you weren’t nearly helpless, you’d also not come prepared for battle; and had spent most of the “fight” dodging around various blows while trying not to drop the expensive equipment that you’d borrowed from other Guild members.

Just as you’d come to the conclusion that the options were either drop everything and run or get thoroughly injured by a bunch of arrogant Snezhnayan soldiers there was a change in the air. The Fatui soldiers’ expression turned from one of glee to one of confusion, and then one of panic, as one by one a streak of blue began to throw them this way and that. As you regained focus of the terrain your realized that it wasn’t a streak at all but a person, a person who was wildly adept at sword play. Eventually the number of unconscious people had risen to five, and there was no one left but him and you.

“Need any help?”

The words might’ve been kind, had it not been for the smirk on the man’s face. Though you felt that the right answers would’ve probably been to scowl, you found you couldn’t, too wrapped up in the memory of this mysterious person darting this way and that, handling his water-made daggers with the grace of a ballet dancer.

“I’m Childe.” These words finally brought you back to the present.

“You’re a member of the Fatui.”

“I am.”

“Then why did you knock those guys out just now?”

“Boredom.”

You stared at Childe incredulously. Of course you’d heard his name, the man who, it was whispered, almost pulled Liyue into the sea. You’d formed a sort of mental picture of him completely divorced from the redhead now standing in front of you, bouncing slightly on his feet as he smiled cockily. He looked more like a rogue adventurer than one of the heads of a crime syndicate. Maybe that was why you found yourself infatuated, rather than afraid.

This infatuation only grew, fed by the encounters that you had with Childe. It seemed now you couldn’t avoid him, not that you wanted to. What had begun as a chance encounter multiplied into two, into four; soon enough you two had struck up a sort of friendship, one that baffled everyone else around you.

Of course you hadn’t lost all your sense, knowing quite well that the puppy love you were feeling could never be anything more. The way Childe talked about his work, about his duty to the Tsaritsa, made it very clear that he wouldn’t let a partner in his life or in his loyalties. And even if he changed his mind, why would he choose you? You were an adventurer sure, but you hadn’t even been able to properly defend yourself the first time the two of you met, and your oversight of that would’ve surely turned Childe away. Besides, Childe could probably make a partner out of anyone he wanted, if they were foolish enough. Why should that person be you?

Perhaps it was that knowledge that allowed you to be so free in your affection, spurred on by Childe’s own open nature. Hand holding, hugging, leaning one’s head on the other’s shoulder, it was the language of friendship that you two had adopted, and something that you greatly appreciated. There was something nice about a friendship in which one could be so open about caring about someone, without expecting things to go farther. Because you didn’t, you really didn’t. And though that might’ve been a bit painful, it was a small price to pay for Childe’s company.

“I’m going off to Mondstadt for a bit.”

“What?”

You drew away from Childe a bit to look into his face. The two of you were walking along the path towards Yaoguang Shoal, as Childe had taken a particular liking to the Starconches that lined its shores. Now he smiled awkwardly, squeezing your hand and shrugging his shoulders.

“I know, I know. There’s apparently this branch of the Fatui holed up there right now, and I’ve been asked to consult about something, though archons know what it is.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure, I think about two weeks? I’m not sure what exactly is going on, but the troops really must be in disarray if they need me skulking around for the next two weeks.” He let out a awkward laugh.

“I’ll miss you.” You replied, bumping your head into his shoulder and frowning. “It’s very boring without you.”

“I’m sure you’ll be perfectly capable without me.” Childe smiled, one eyebrow raised slightly. “After all, what would you do if I left someday, permanently. You’d have to find a way without me.”

“Let’s not talk about that.” You replied hurriedly, switching the conversation towards something more pleasant. Unfortunately however the words had already been said, and the damage had already been done.

It had been two weeks since Childe had left for Mondstadt, and though normally you might’ve been waiting at the city gates for his return, you found yourself on the familiar road towards Lingju. Childe’s words had been ringing in your ears for the past two weeks, and you’d found the more time passed the more you kept thinking about them.

What would you do if I left someday, permanently. Is that what Childe truly wanted? To leave? The idea made your stomach hurt, as you began once more to run all your interactions through your head, as if trying to find a flaw in the strips of memory you had of Childe. Was that what Childe truly wanted, or was it simply that he was sick of you? When he’d said “you’d have to find a way without me” did that mean he wanted to find a way without you? Perhaps you’d been too forward, too demanding. Perhaps he’d managed to realize your feelings and felt repelled by them. Had it been too much, meeting him almost everyday for some periods of time, eating lunch together and sometimes dinner. What about that time you’d invited him over to your house to play a game? Had that been too much?

You sighed, dragging yourself over the final ridge. Sitting down to take a rest you closed you eyes. You hated that your mind wandered this way, that no matter what you couldn’t help but ask yourself again and again, what had you done. What would Childe think about this sad person laying on the ground, the sad part was you couldn’t answer that question.

The sound of footsteps brought you back to the present, and you let out a suppressed groan at the figures in your line of sight.

“Don’t you guys ever get posted anywhere else?” You rolled your eyes, reaching behind your back to summon your polearm.

“You’re trespassing.” The voice that came out of the Electro Vanguard was so deep and distorted as to be hilarious.

“Lastly I checked you were neither a citizen of Liyue, nor Rex Lapis, so if anyone’s “trespassing” on public territory it’s you.” You sighed. “Oh well. Unfortunately you caught me on a day where I’m somewhat prepared.” With that you lunged towards the Hydro Legionnaire and the fight began.

Fighting when one is already frustrated is both a blessing and a curse. The fight itself was almost invigorating, the first Fatui hit the ground and with it you felt part of your worries fade away, if only for the small window of time which this fight offered. Was this why Childe fought so much? The though crossed your mind as you whirled behind the Pyro Bracer and pressed as much Electro as you dared into the back of his head, tripping him with the staff of your polearm on his way down.

Soon enough there was only you and the Electro Vanguard left. Unfortunately you were beginning to feel the other side affect of anger, that being misfocus. Being more versed in using your polearm as a sort of lightning rod your found the Vanguard much harder to deal with, more than once barely diving out of the way of the hammer he was swinging around, surprisingly light on his feet considering what the weight must be. Your anger was quickly draining, turning into something more akin to panic, and as you found yourself stumbling more and more you realized that today was really, really not your day.

The Vanguard was becoming aware of how fast you were tiring, a gravelly sort of laugh emerging from behind his mask. As you found your with you back to the slope you wondered if it was just worth it to make an escape. The Fatui swung his hammer once more, barreling towards you. Having nothing left to do you put your polearm out in front of you, hoping that your arms were strong enough not to recoil against the inevitable blow. Closing your eyes you thought of nothing, drowning in a sea of panic. If there was any coherent part of your brain it wished that you weren’t here, that you just stayed home, or swallowed you pride and gone to the gate. But it was too late now, and you were about to get hit.

However the blow never landed, instead a loud sound pierced the air. Whipping your arms open you saw the Electro Vanguard stumble, his hammer having been dropped on the ground. He was grasping towards his ankle, in which was stuck an arrow, glowing a faint aquamarine. Swearing the Fatui member glanced around, before stumbling away, dragging his weapon and his left leg behind him like dead weight.

“Some things never change, huh?”

“Childe!” You whirled towards your once again savior, face burning from embarrassment. “I took out the rest of them this time.”

“I can see that,” said Childe, surveying the area, a telltale smirk on his face, “very impressive. Although, if I may suggest, next time try to take out the Electro Vanguard first, especially since you don’t wield a weapon made for pure damage.”

“Is this turning into a teaching moment?”

“Absolutely not.” Childe laughed.

You found the sound catching, and soon a smile spread across your face as you let your polearm disappear once more. You ran up to Childe, and were about to throw you arms around his neck in a characteristic hug, when the thoughts of before came ramming back into your brain. Taking a step back you planted your arms firmly in front of you, hoping that maybe Childe hadn’t noticed what you’d been about to do.

However Childe approached you instead.

“You weren’t at the gate today.” He said coyly, lips drifting somewhere between a smirk and a frown.

“I’m sorry.” You lowered your head. “I just thought, well maybe that would be better. Since you said you might be leaving permanently and all, and since you were right when you said I’d have to figure things out without you, I don’t know, I thought maybe it’d be for the best.”

Looking up the expression on Childe’s face could only be described as one of complete disbelief. For a moment he stayed frozen in place.

“What in Teyvat do you mean I’m leaving permanently?”

“You said that! Remember… when we were going to pick sea shells you said that you were leaving.” You stepped back, cheeks flushed. “Or maybe you were just sort of sick of me or something.”

“Why would you ever think that?” Childe walked up to you, enveloping one of the hands at your side in his own and bringing it up towards him.

“I… I don’t know,” you replied, feeling very confused and very foolish, “I thought maybe that I was being too affectionate, or too clingy. I mean I know you don’t like me or anything like that. And I thought maybe that I was crossing the boundaries of our friendship.”

“I don’t like you? I’ve liked you since almost the first day we’ve met!”

“Not like that! I mean, like like, you know? As in… well, as in I… I love you.” You let your voice peter out.

“I love you too!” Childe let out. Shaking his head he smiled widely. “That’s what I’m trying to say. I’ve liked you since almost the first time we’ve met. I wasn’t trying to shoo you away.”

“What?” Your brain was short circuiting. Something had gone terribly wrong. You’d definitely been knocked out at some point, and was now hallucinating. There was no way Childe liked you, loved you. He could love anyone, why would he love you.

Childe stepped closer, moving so that your foreheads were almost pressed together.

“May I?” He whispered, voice almost shy. You nodded, a just as small “yes” escaping your lips before Childe cut off your ability to say anything more. It was a short kiss, sweet and chaste, and yet you felt everything around you suddenly come into sharp, almost lucid clarity. You weren’t dreaming. This was happening. This was Childe and he liked you. Childe like you. He liked you, he really liked you.

“Why?” You let out, when the two of you separated. Thankfully Childe remained close to you, being without his presence now would’ve been quite lonely.

“Why what?”

“Why me? I’m not, I don’t know, I can’t even knock out an Electro Vanguard without help.”

Childe let out a laugh, lovely as music.

“I don’t know,” he replied, eyes sparkling, “because you’re you. And I like you.”

And all of a sudden you found that that was enough.

Ganyu

The days that you accompanied Ganyu on her various errands were the ones in which you were most aware that you were on a level utterly below her.

Of course humans could never really measure up to adepti, after all they made the world and humans simply lived in it. Still in terms of humans, well you weren’t exactly pushing exceptional. If Ganyu represented all that was exceptional about the adepti, well then you represented the average human who didn’t like their job and overall went about their day as unnoticeable as an ant on the road.

Of course Ganyu never acted in a way that would betray the imbalance between the two of you. Indeed Ganyu was nothing if not kind, sweet, and utterly without a semblance of hierarchy. It was one of the things that you adored about her, the straightforward honesty she carried with her, and the way that she appeared not to judge living beings on a scale, even if that was the right of those who were higher and didn’t have to worry about said scale.

“Can you carry this for me?” Ganyu’s voice was soft and somewhat hesitant. You smiled widely, knowing that Ganyu simply had difficulty asking other people for help.

“Of course I can!” Scooping up the package that was stretched out towards you, you saw Ganyu let out a short sigh of relief.

“Thank you.”

“Of course! I’m always happy to help you. Where are we taking this?”

“Over to the funeral parlor. It seems that there are some tiles in here that are being used for a specific ritual. Hu Tao said that the family wanted it, I hope she doesn’t actually mean she pushed them towards it.” Ganyu let out a soft sigh. “She once suggested advertising for cremation. Somehow I feel that won’t exactly be welcomed by the people.”

“No one likes to be reminded of their own mortality. Ah, but Hu Tao is doing her best, and if these tiles end up being insulators, I suppose we can’t do much about it. I’ll make sure not to drop them anyways. Getting on Hu Tao’s bad side feels like asking for a prank.”

“You’re probably right.” Ganyu chuckled.

You blushed slightly, loving the way her laugh sounded, soft and open. You knew Ganyu struggled sometimes; she admitted to you herself that it was very difficult to live an existence defined by liminality. Was she an adeptus? Was she a human? She was neither, and yet both would claim her and call her other. In understanding this Ganyu had retreated into herself. Perhaps that’s why her laugh meant so much.

As you strolled down the docks an angry voice cut through the air.

“Qixing!”

Both of you turning around you saw Bolai, heaving slightly, teetering his way towards you. His face was stormy, and for a moment you wondered if someone had stolen something. His words when he caught up however revealed a very different motivation.

“I demand justice!”

“What for?” Ganyu asked, voice deadly serious once more.

“What for? For what Huixin said in regards to me! For the Liyue Qixing complying with disgusting rumors as to the ways in which I conduct my business and my finances. As to the way that you promised to help me then turned on me!”

“I see…” Ganyu sighed as you wracked your brain, trying to remember what she’d told you about the time that she and the traveler ran around trying to detangle various examples of tax fraud. “Have you considered putting up a formal complaint?” Ganyu meanwhile was still trying to keep professional, something that you admired her for.

“How am I supposed to trust the Qixing after what happened? No! I demand compensation now!”

“Sir, I’m sure you’re quite upset, but there’s no need to act in such a way. If you wish to clear your name, then we can meet in private and review the testimony and documents we received. If not, then I’m afraid there is nothing I can do for you. I’m very sorry.”

Ganyu turned back towards the direction in which you two had been previously walking. Evidently too agitated to think properly Bolai let out a strangled cry.

“We’re not finished yet!” Reaching out, he seemed to be attempting to turn Ganyu around by the shoulder. Having been standing there unthinking you now moved to block the action, knowing that Bolai didn’t really mean anything by it, but not trusting the man who looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Bolai’s hand instead smacked into the box in your hands, which slipped from your grip and fell to the floor in a great crash.

Time seemed to slow down somewhat after this, as Bolai stepped backwards and Ganyu turned around, face one of evident horror at the scene. You felt your face begin to burn as you looked at the unassuming box, which now looked a little bit the worse for wear.

“What…” Ganyu trailed off. Bolai waved his hands about in a panicked sort of way.

“That wasn’t me! That wasn’t my fault! It was this person they… I don’t know what they were thinking, getting in the way like that. How idiotic! This is nothing but a mess, a disgrace!”

Normally you wouldn’t pay Bolai’s words any mind, but now they seemed to pierce right through, as you realized all the trouble you’d just caused Ganyu. Glancing over towards her you found you could neither look her in the eyes nor stay where you were.

“I-I’m sorry!” You stammered. Moving to pick up the box you found your hand hesitating. Fearing that you’d just make things worse you pulled yourself and dashed in the opposite direction, speeding up the docks and towards the outskirts of the city.

Normally the view from Mount Tianheng was one that stole your breath away. Today however the mountain seemed completely uninteresting, especially when compared to the thoughts racing in your head.

How had you gotten here, how had you messed up so much? Ganyu didn’t need your posturing, your attempt to help. She was an adeptus for Morax’s sake! And who were you? Someone who couldn’t even carry a box from Point A to Point B. And now you’d just caused more trouble for Ganyu, when she already had so much to do.

“I’m such a failure.” You groaned into your palms.

“You aren’t!” You lifted your head at the soft exclamation, already knowing who the voice belonged to. Ganyu sidled up to the ledge of the mountain silently, fidgeting with her hands. “May I sit next to you?”

“Of course.” You replied, grateful that Ganyu was even talking to you. Smiling softly the Qixing Emissary let out a soft sigh.

“I love the view of the city from here.” She spoke softly, eyes on the horizon.

“I do too.”

“There’s something so lovely about watching everyone go about their day, isn’t there? To see the people work in harmony to bring prosperity and peace to the city of Liyue. To see how everyone continues on the legacy of Rex Lapis.”

“That’s a lot to see.” You joked, still feeling a little uncomfortable, as if Ganyu might in a minute get up and leave.

“But can’t you see it?” Ganyu’s voice was earnest and her eyes shined. “It’s wonderful how people do it, how they continue to make this city thrive, to keep the contracts of Morax alive and within living memory.”

“Perhaps it’s just harder for humans to judge it themselves?”

“Perhaps.” Ganyu’s expression shifted into something, almost shy, not quite melancholic. “Just like how you’re finding it difficult to forgive yourself.”

“I’m so sorry Ganyu. I don’t know what I was thinking! I just… I just, wasn’t thinking.”

“You were trying to be kind.” Ganyu replied, something almost akin to blush coating her cheeks. “And I have to thank you for that.”

“But I just caused more trouble…”

“You were trying to be kind,” Ganyu repeated, “like I said, you’re finding it difficult to forgive yourself. But you have to. You didn’t truly do anything that needs forgiveness.”

“But I was doing it for completely selfish reasons!” You blurted out, embarrassment and doubt turning into the words you never wanted to utter. “It’s because I like you, and not just because I was trying to be nice. But because, because maybe I wanted to do something for you, and then maybe I’d be good enough maybe.” Realizing how odd that just sounded you turned your head away. For a moment your words hung in the air, and the longer the silence continued the longer you thought about how utterly selfish you were.

“Thank you.” There was a smile in Ganyu’s voice, and as you turned your head once more you could see it plastered across her face.

“For what?”

“For telling me you like me.”

“But… but isn’t it just burdening you? After all I’m not good enough for you.”

“You are!” Ganyu’s voice was firm. “You’re absolutely good enough for me. And what you did, you call it selfishness, but I don’t understand that. Being kind to people you like isn’t selfish, even if you like them. Because this time you were genuinely helping me. Besides, if that’s selfish then I’ve also been terribly selfish.”

“How?”

“By asking you to accompany me everywhere. Because maybe, maybe I like you too.”

For a moment you wondered if you hadn’t accidentally slipped off the cliff, so weightless did you feel. A bit lightheaded you leaned forward.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Ganyu smiled nervously. Reaching out she took your hand in hers.

The two of you watched the sun set over the city of contracts mostly in silence. Every once in a while there would be a spurt of conversation, but mostly there was nothing but the sounds of the birds and the cicadas, and the pounding of two hearts, hearts both a bit ragged from the events of the day.

For what a day it had been. And how wonderfully it had ended.

Kaeya

If you could use anything as justification for your crush on Kaeya, he did flirt with you. Unfortunately he also flirted with everyone else in Mondstadt.

“How’s my favorite knight of Favonius?” Kaeya’s cocky voice was clear as a bell, and for a moment your heart flipped as the handsome knight came into view, smile as lovely as it had been the day before.

“Blessed by the presence of our beloved cavalry captain.” You replied in a singsong voice.

The first time Kaeya had used that line on you it felt like your soul had left your body and your heart had run a marathon. Unfortunately you’d heard him use practically the same line on Rosaria the next day, his favorite mysterious nun, robbing you of your fantasy in which Kaeya had any interest for you.

Your banter however was not without genuine feeling. You were utterly infatuated with Kaeya, having fallen for the handsome knight about two weeks into your own training. Originally having been an adventurer you’d joined the knights relatively recently after a series of Abyss attacks on the City of Freedom. As such Kaeya had by then already occupied an exalted position among the ranks, and the hours of being trained, teased, and flirted at by the mysterious cavalry captain had been enough to throw you head over heels.

Not that you’d ever expect things to develop more than they already had. Having a crush on the flirtiest man in Mondstadt did mean that you were praised every once in a while, but it also meant that the praise meant little more than empty words, and that there was always someone else who had heard them. Not that you begrudged those people, not knowing them or not caring. It was Kaeya’s right to be as he was, flirty and irreverent; and you’d never ask him to change that part of himself, or any other.

To do so would be to change the person you’d grown to love.

You trotted up the steps of the Favonius headquarters, opening the door with a slight “oof” before stepping into the cool building. Today was going to be a quiet sort of day for the knights, and you’d been assigned to pick up a few books from Jean’s office to be recorded by Lisa before being sent off to the Church. Going to open the door you paused at the voices inside.

“– saying it’s nothing.”

“And I’m saying that it’s becoming a distraction. I don’t want to control your actions Kaeya, but this pining has been slowing down your work, and we need you as one of our most crucial members to be on top of things.”

“I’m not pining.”

“What do you mean you aren’t pining,” Jean let out a snort, “as if it’s not obvious to everyone around you. Look, I’m not saying you have to break things off –”

“Good, because they haven’t even begun.”

“Then maybe that’s part of your problem. Maybe if you told them you liked them then you’d be able to get back on track.”

“I’m doing my best.”

“You aren’t doing anything. And that’s the problem.”

You didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, having made your way over to the library as to make sure that you were get caught, and to cool your head in regards to what you’d just heard.

So Kaeya liked someone. You shouldn’t’ve really been surprised. Kaeya was a wonderful person; intelligent, good with a weapon, polite, handsome. What person wouldn’t fall in love with him? And when everyone’s in love with you, well, it was unsurprising that eventually Kaeya would find someone who he loved back just as much. Then, why did it hurt?

You fought the urge to wrack your brain for the people Kaeya spoke most about, finding the act beneath you. Still, your mind wandered. Perhaps it was Rosaria after all, or maybe it was only because you remembered her. Perhaps it was the sword smith who came twice monthly to check up on the weaponry. Or perhaps it was the tailor, who could sew anything with the utmost care. Or perhaps it was a musician, or an archivist, or another knight. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Your head swam and you found your eyes stinging. Now wasn’t the time to cry, not when you needed to honor your appointment with Jean, not when you were somewhere where any one of your colleagues might discover you. Not where Kaeya might walk in any minute and realize what you’d done. This thought finally brought you out of the spiral of your mind. Making sure that any tears that might’ve escaped were wiped away you took a deep breath, steadying yourself before you walked out of the library and into Jean’s office.

Evidently you must’ve looked much worse than you thought, for Jean took one look at you and ordered you home, grumbling about how much trouble there had been recently. You thanked her half-heartedly before making your way out of the Headquarters, heart heavy as lead. At least work would’ve been a welcome distraction.

Arriving home you saw what Jean meant. Though you weren’t particularly teary, your face had taken on an ashen pallor that made it look like you’d either just gotten a shock, fainted, or had suddenly contracted consumption. Letting out a sigh you collapsed on the couch of your apartment. You knew you should probably do something, should eat or work on some extra work or something. But right now you didn’t want to do any of that. You just wanted to forget.

The knock that sounded at your door was extremely unwelcome, and you bit back bitter words as you made your way over to the door. Any protest however was silenced at the sight of Kaeya, hair slightly tussled, expression opaque, on your doorstep.

“Kaeya.” You meant to sound more peppy, but the action felt too tiring. “What’re you doing here?”

“Making sure that you’re alright. Jean told me that you looked unwell, and we can’t have our best knight getting sick, now can we?”

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

You went to turn around, when Kaeya reached over and place his hand on your forehead. Freezing you let out a sound somewhere between a strangled cry and a shriek. Kaeya didn’t react to this however, or the red quickly spreading across the bridge of your nose. Instead he let out a sigh, before smiling, something which also caused your heart to seize up.

“Not running a fever. I’m glad. Do you know what’s wrong by any chance?”

“Yes. No! I mean, I think, I, I just need rest.”

“You can tell me if something’s wrong. I might not be able to help, but I can try. Consider it the duty of the Cavalry Captain. Have to keep up appearances, even among the ranks.”

“Really Kaeya, I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.” Kaeya’s eye seemed to pierce through your soul. “You seem… upset, exhausted. Please, let me help.”

“I can’t…” Your voice cracked and you turned your head away, mortified by your inability to control yourself.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Kaeya’s voice was filled with sudden worry. “Is someone doing something to you?”

“No! No one is. I just can’t because, because it’d be selfish.”

“What do you mean?” Kaeya’s tone had become utterly perplexed, and for a moment you felt the crazy urge to laugh. As if it wasn’t painfully obvious why you couldn’t. This was so tiring. You were so tired.

“Because it’s not fair of me to take away your happiness just because of my own feelings.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I heard you talking to Jean,” you explain, face burning, “she said that you liked someone. Or maybe you did, I don’t remember. Anyways you like someone and it’s not fair of that to hurt me, I have no right to your feelings. But, but it hurts, it really, really hurts.”

The silence when you finished was miserable. You weren’t even looking up at Kaeya, not wanting to see the destruction of a friendship you valued so much.

“Have you considered that the person I’m so infatuated with might be you?”

When you looked up you caught a wave of emotions, similar in strength to the ones currently going through you, plastered over Kaeya’s face. Happiness, sadness, regret, relief; all these things danced in his eyes. In that moment you loved him even more for it, for knowing that he understood, and that he too couldn’t hide the affects of having someone you loved so close and yet so far.

Saying nothing you walked over and slowly stretched your hand out. Kaeya took the hand in his, and you reveled in the small intimacy, in his calloused fingers enveloping yours.

“I’m not good enough.” You pointed out, voice soft.

“You aren’t the one who decides who I love.” Kaeya replied, voice firm. “To me there is no one else worthy in the world. Only you. And I hope that I can be the same for you, that I can be worthy.”

“Yes. Oh yes.”

For Kaeya was more than simply worthy. He was the one you loved the most, as well as the one who’d now made you the happiest person you could ever dream of.

#requested #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #childe #ganyu #kaeya #childe x reader #ganyu x reader #kaeya x reader #scenarios #my writing

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calltomuster · 3 years

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(More) Star Wars Fic Recs

[first fic rec list]

Hello everyone, hope you've been having a lovely week! Here's another list of some fics I've really enjoyed reading or rereading recently. I try to have a mix of things I don't think got enough love, fics from a while ago that deserve to be reread, stuff from writers on Tumblr, and of course, just stuff I think is great.

atmosphere level by softredscrunchie (gen, one-shot, 1k words, Obi-Wan & Satine) Obi-Wan's hurt and sick and annoyed so Satine decides to distract him by arguing passionately that Mandalore is, in fact, flat. Obi-Wan, being the nerd he is, gets more and more wound up as she refuses to back down. This fic is one of the funniest things I've read in a long while, highly recommend if you're having a bad day.

a comedy in four acts by jesuisdeux (gen, one-shot, 4k words, Obi-Wan & Dooku & Yoda) Obi-Wan and Dooku both time-travel from the point of their deaths way back to when Obi-Wan was a young Padawan. Ft. Classic Dooku glowering at a 13 year-old, caring and empathetic Yoda, and Obi-Wan flat out telling a very confused Qui-Gon that he's gonna kill Dooku.

the day begins with burning by @kototyph (gen, one-shot, 6.3k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) This fic takes place in a world where the Jedi Order finds out about the Tusken massacre and puts Anakin on trial (internally). We start off right as the Council is delivering their verdict, and it's a roller coaster of emotions from start to finish. I like it because it does not shy away from the fact that Anakin murdered a bunch of people and there really need to be consequences for that, but also isn't just Anakin bashing. The relationship between Anakin and Obi-Wan really shines through here.

The Ghosts of Memory by @pandora15 (gen, one-shot, 2.1k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin & Ahsoka) Obi-Wan and Anakin are invited back to Naboo for the ten year anniversary of the battle. I mean, that sounds relatively benign but OOF. So many feelings. So many thoughts of what could have been. Go read this fic!

Anamorphosis by avocadomoon (Obi-Wan/Padmé, one-shot, 33.5k words) Obi-Wan and (a slightly older) Padmé keep in touch after the events on Naboo and keep their eventual marriage out of the public eye. Qui-Gon lives, but the Council still doesn't accept Anakin for training so he and Shmi are taken in by a wonderful benefactor -- Sheev Palpatine. Nothing can go wrong there, right? This is an absolutely fascinating re-imagining of the prequels era. I'm so sad it's only a one-shot, because there's so much to explore here.

on sith holocrons and misunderstandings by billowypants (gen, one-shot, 7.2k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) As the summary says, "de-aged!Obi-Wan has the same Force bonds as adult Obi-Wan, and he does not react well." Bit of an understatement, that. This fic really makes me feel bad for both Obi-Wan and Anakin. Wrap them up in blankets and give them hugs, please.

In Control by @kckenobi (gen, one-shot, 3.5k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) I don't normally seek out fics with young Anakin, but I love KCKenobi's stuff so I was like "I'm game" and that was most definitely not a mistake. What a cute fic this is! The basic premise is that Anakin is getting his license to drive/fly a speeder and poor Obi-Wan is dragged along for the ride, literally. Highly recommend.

always gold by @happygiraffe (gen, 4/4 chapters, 10k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) Obi-Wan hasn't been Master to Anakin for that long before he finds out his cancer is back. Oh man. Let me tell you, I don't cry easily. Really, I don't. But the most recent time I read this fic, I had to set my phone down at the end and ugly-sob for literally ten minutes before I could properly compose myself. It affected me that much. This fic showed me the power of words. My only hope is that one day I will be able to accomplish what @happygiraffe has with this fic!

fill pages with scribbled ink by magneticwave (Obi-Wan/Padmé, one-shot, 9.8k words) If I haven't talked about this fic already on here (and I might have?) then I have committed a crime. It's another Obi-Wan/Padmé fic, which is a ship I've never had a problem with but don't normally seek out, but the ones on this list are so, so good. This fic is told entirely through comm messages, and it's such a brilliant way to tell this story. I cheered the whole way through.

having loved a little while by @giggles-and-freckles (Padmé/Anakin, 1.5k words, Padmé & Ahsoka, Ahsoka & Anakin) Okay genuinely I had a hard time deciding between the four(?) fics @giggles-and-freckles wrote for the Chaos Company Exchange because they all brought me such joy, but this one stands out. Padmé is teaching Ahsoka how to cook in her apartment and they're having a really lovely moment when Anakin bursts in and then has to try and explain his unexpected presence to Ahsoka. This story had me going "awww!" in the beginning and then dying of laughter by the end. So much fun, seriously. I laughed out loud multiple times.

If you like any of these fics, please consider reblogging so they can get more exposure! And if you noticed I missed someone's Tumblr account, or linked the wrong one, please let me know!

#fic recs #star wars #sw tcw #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #padmé amidala #satine kryze #yoda #dooku #star wars fanfiction

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jodibodie · 3 years

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I Have Some Feelings

To start let me just emphasize how much I love and adore this show and always will. This was my covid show. Both of my kids loved “Lucifer” and always said I should watch so at the start of covid I binged it and when I say binged, I mean all 4 seasons in a few days and have rewatched so many times I’ve lost count. I think it is timeless, engrossing, original and all around amazing. The writing and the cast were all excellent. The writing was smart and consistently strong and that is so rare. Funny, sad, poignant, it hit all the notes with very few plot holes or missteps. There is not one episode in the entire series that was not engaging. Even if I didn’t like an episode, it was still well done. What a rarity.

The cast is scary good. Completely underrated. Just all phenomenally talented. I don’t remember the last time a cast was this strong. From the core group to both reoccurring and guest stars, the cast was just fantastic.

Tom Ellis, no words. The man deserves to choose whatever he wants to do acting wise. He should have people breaking down his door. He can truly do it all and do it all well. He took a character that if portrayed by a lesser actor could have come off as a complete asshole and made him one of the most sympathetic and loveable characters in recent history. Ellis made a crime solving devil, a promiscuous man-child that occasionally breaks into song and the evidence room into a beloved character that has become an icon.

Lauren German, WOW. She is just so damn good. She can break your heart one second and have you laughing the next. She makes Chloe real, and people don’t realize how hard that is. Chloe is smart, kind, tough and gorgeous but she’s also an insecure dork. She’s us and German just brings it.

DB Woodside I’ve loved since “Buffy”. He is a phenomenal actor and who knew he could bring the laughs so well? His expressions were classic. Clueless angel indeed. Amenadiel could have been very one-dimensional but because of Woodside’s talent he became fully fleshed out and full bodied.

I have no doubt Lesley-Ann Brandt has a huge career in front of her. She took a character that very well could have been hated, a demon and made her into one of the most human characters on the show. Kudos to her for taking a tough role and making it her own.

Kevin Alejandro is another actor I’ve loved for a long time. He also took a character who if we’re going to be honest here did so many unlikeable things that he should have been truly despised but because of Kevin’s portrayal he was beloved. Great actor and a terrific director.

Rachael Harris IMO is the downlow MVP. She was literally the rock and again, with a lesser actress the role could have been a throwaway. The normal human, the sounding board but Harris imbued her with so much more. Her spit takes, sarcasm and her obvious compassion was what made Dr. Linda an unforgettable character. Once again just perfect casting.

Aimee Garcia was a great addition. She made Ella a fan fav and put so much heart, joy and sincerity into Ella never once did you doubt that she would prevail no matter what was thrown at her. Garcia was just fantastic, and I want her skin care regime.

Scarlett Estevez pulled off the one thing I thought almost impossible. She took the role of a young child and made it so I didn’t want to cringe. She portrayed Trixie so beautifully from day one that she was a true pleasure to watch. Even though Trixie was super precocious Estevez never made her obnoxious. I loved Trixie and I have never said that about any child character in an adult show. She was wonderful and has an amazing career in front of her.

That said, I’ve got some feelings now that I’ve seen the finale and have had some time to digest it all. I love that Chloe and Lucifer had eternity and I agree that they had to be separated for Chloe’s lifetime. Didn’t like it but it’s the logical path. She’s human, he’s not. The ageing thing alone necessitated them not being together long term on earth and that’s just to start the list. They had to had to be apart for the short term to get their eternity but the duality of Lucifer's ending and Amenadiel's didn't sit right. Amenadiel as God got to have it all. His calling, his family etc. while Lucifer had to give up everything. I also don’t buy the “If he came up from hell, he could never leave them again” defense. I call bullshit. Amenadiel managed, plus, missing out on the day to day is a huge sacrifice and by Lucifer missing out on the day-to-day Rory could still have had the hatred she needed to drive the story. Popping in for birthdays, graduations, weddings, etc., the big stuff does not a father make. Not being there for skinned knees, first heartbreaks, and all the little things a daughter needs her dad for can build up tons of resentment. Boom, absentee father, just like his dad was. That provides all the millennial angel angst you could ask for. I have a daughter; it doesn’t take much.

The Trixie issue was huge for me. Can Chloe see her in Heaven? Will she be able to travel to Heaven and visit Trixie, Penelope, Dan, her father? Chloe hesitated leaving Heaven in 5x16 because she couldn’t bear saying good-bye to her dad again. It seems as if Chloe sacrificed everything for Rory including Trixie. I want to preface this by saying. I liked Rory and loved the actress. I didn’t however like how it was as if she were their only child. When Lucifer spoke of family Trixie was not mentioned. Their family day, the same thing. She didn’t need to be there, I get that the explanation regarding Rory would have been way too much to get into but just a mention of her, how awesome it would have been to share this day with her would have worked. It seemed as if Lucifer went from, “I would do anything to protect that little Urchin” to “Trixie who”. Trixie was a character that we watched grow up and she meant something to us. I hate to say this, but the writers did Trixie and the viewers dirty in this regard.

This show was built around a few premises. Free will, honesty, redemption, sacrifice and family, both blood and made. The ending completely negated almost all of these. Chloe and their entire family were made into the one thing Lucifer abhorred the most which are liars. Their daughter was brought up surrounded by lies. What did they tell Trixie? The poor kid just lost her dad, and she was pissed at Lucifer when he went back to hell the first time. Did she grow up hating him because as far as she knew Lucifer left her mom again without saying good-bye and this time it was even worse because Chloe was pregnant. I get that the actress who plays Trixie had limited availability but seriously. A quick good-bye.

“Hey Urchin, you won’t understand why for a long time, but I have to leave. You know I never lie so I can’t explain why but know that I love you and your mom and one day I hope you can forgive me.”

A 30 second scene would have worked.

As all the characters learned throughout the series, omission of the truth is just a form of lying and there are always repercussions i.e., Chloe and Father Kinley, Dan shooting Lucifer, Maze finding out about Lilith and even Ella not being told. As far as free will, both Chloe and Lucifer had their free will taken from them in the end. By Rory forcing them to abide by her wishes, their free will was forfeited. It was a huge manipulation on Rory’s part and considering how much Lucifer hated manipulations it just didn’t sit right.

Parents making huge sacrifices I get. Chloe and Lucifer sacrificed everything for their child. Unfortunately for me this sacrifice, the way it was written seemed contrived to pull out maximum and IMO unjustified angst. I love angst. Hell, this is my favorite show. I thrive on the angst. But as I wrote earlier, all the anger, angst and hatred towards Lucifer could have been achieved without having Lucifer completely out of the picture. I have two kids and my husband, and I have made huge life altering sacrifices for them as many parents do but being there for the day-to-day little things was what made the difference in their lives and cemented the close relationships we have with them.

“Yeah, dad you were great. Showing up for the fun stuff, always swooping in for the big finish to play the hero then ditching us when things got tough. When Grandma was dying where were you? Nice that you showed up for the funeral but the six months leading up to it…we needed you and once again you weren’t there. When T got sick, when Jen broke my heart, blah, blah, blah…”

Even the whole Chloe dying scenario. They could have written it that rage Rory traveled minutes before Lucifer got there. Have him pop in right after Rory comes back. There were so many ways to achieve the end game they wanted other than the way they went. It seemed contrived and as if they took the easy way out to get where they needed to go. The Rory rage that was the catalyst for her traveling back in time and Lucifer finding his calling could still have been accomplished without the whole Lucifer disappearing storyline.

Now that I’ve finished my diatribe there’s a couple of additional things I would like to say. Lucifer is and always will be one of my favorite shows of all time. There are not enough words to describe the comfort and enjoyment this show has brought me. Thank you, thank you, thank you to the producers, cast and crew. You truly created something special.

To the fandom. Please do not let a polarizing conclusion rip apart the fandom. The only other fandom I was a part of tore itself apart so badly that the FBI got involved. Hence why I waited for 15 years to dip my toe in again. Everyone invested in this show has the right to their feelings. Debate is fine, baiting and bullying are not. The Lucifer fandom like the show is very special. Without the fandom we wouldn’t have gotten any conclusion so don’t let opposing viewpoints tarnish what has been a magical journey.

#lucifer #season6 #spoilers #lucifer spoilers #lucifer season6 spoilers #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #trixie espinoza #rory morningstar #luciferseason6 #tom ellis #lauren german #db woodside #lesley-ann brandt #rachael harris #kevin alejandro #scarlett estevez #brianna hildebrand

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sepublic · 4 years

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Happy Birthday to The Owl House!

Honestly, I’m… REALLY shocked to think back on how it’s been a year? It’s been a full, actual year, since that first episode?

I remember when The Owl House was first announced around early 2018. Something about it, the premise, the characters from that one poster we got; It really drew me in, and I kept track of the show’s progress in eager anticipation. Whenever Dana released art of Luz, Eda, and King, I was ecstatic- And when the show was delayed to 2020, I was dismayed.

Then we got our teaser trailer; The opening them, the end credits, even a little sneak peek! I remember speculating a lot about Luz and all of the other new characters we were introduced to, such as Willow, Amity, and Gus- And then we got more and more trailers in the days leading up to the show. I wondered about Luz’s home back on Earth and where her family was, I listened intently to the Hooty and the Parliament music video, finding an almost melancholic, weirdly nostalgic (despite having never watched the show yet) vibe to it- Whilst also avoiding looking at the screen and seeing all of the various clips it offered, because I wanted to be surprised! It was two years of anticipation, two years of wait for this show- I’d never looked forward to a series before like this, last I can recall… So having this content FINALLY come out, seeing these characters in animation, hearing their wonderful voices! My soul was vibing, it was time, it was coming after all this time…!

Eventually I finished Infinity Train Book 2, the same day that The Owl House premiered… I was blindsided when I woke up to the first episode’s release online, in full- I was already planning to wait until later to watch it on television, so having it permanently accessible from the internet was such a pleasant surprise! And the show… The show, man- That premiere caught me off-guard with how much I enjoyed it! I knew I was looking forward to this show, but still…! It blew away my expectations, and even now, has continued to; It was like my personal investment and attention had paid off so patiently well! I even got a DisneyNOW subscription so I could watch each new episode ASAP, the day it premiered, hours before it aired on television!

I remember scouring Tumblr before the show officially premiered, and there was understandably very little- A few pieces of fanart here or there. And when the show DID premiere, for a while there wasn’t really much of a fandom- There was barely anyone, in fact! But I can remember a few notable blogs who have been around since the beginning… Me, I got invested into this show. I found myself really enjoying Lumity as a ship, especially since I resonated with both characters in it; Luz was such a ball of sunshine that brightened my day, and Amity really spoke to me with her more introverted, top-scoring personality. When the show hit its mid-season hiatus, I remember not handling it too well, as I got impatient and frantic in my speculations- I wanted so badly to learn more about these characters, see what happened- Get a look at Emperor Belos (then known as Bellows by the fandom), etc.

I wrote my Bile Coven piece in preparation for Halloween, even got to know a mutual or two over shared theorizing! I kept track of Dana’s updates, and even had people come to my blog, of all places, to send asks! It was and still has been such an engaging part of fandom for me… I recall impatiently waiting for the Owl Pellet shorts and freaking out over them- And when Adventures in the Elements leaked early? I LOST MY MIND, I remember postponing something I was supposed to go to, just so I could watch the episode- And it was so good! Then I started wondering and hoping the rest of Season 1 would come out, and well- It took a while…

And when Season 1B’s trailer came out, I was all over it; Scouring every possible frame, freaking out over the Grom screenshot, and appreciating the influx of new fans! It was amazing to watch The Owl House go from a relatively minor and obscure fandom, to becoming so much more mainstream and populous! I got into Rebecca Rose’s channel, I began writing more meta and posts about the show, as well as little recaps for each new episode. I feel like my blog really took off from here, as I got to interact with more and more people who shared this mutual love of The Owl House, and I was so ecstatic to see more content and buzz about it!

My mind was solely focused on The Owl House, it was one of my huge hyperfixations, even moreso than during Season 1A’s run- I remember being anxious about Enchanting Grom Fright, wondering if we’d get queerbaited… But NO, Amity was in love with Luz! She canonically had a crush on her, a girl in love with another girl- And I loved it because Lumity was a special comfort ship of mine! Then Amity was confirmed lesbian… It was amazing! And I found myself SO invested, so inspired by the show and its characters, and all of the little allusions to things, the foreshadowing, the moments here or there that made so much more sense after a new episode.

This show inspired me creatively- It got me to write some of my personal favorite fanfics, and I was and still am so touched by whatever feedback I get from them! The Owl House really got me to write, to obsess over characters and analyze them, to look at motifs, to think about worldbuilding… It’s been such an artistically enriching experience, both the show and the fandom! I remember despairing so terribly when Agony of a Witch came out, the genuine betrayal I had when Lilith revealed the truth- Because I’d been legitimately endeared to her character beforehand, even formed a sort of ‘trust’ in a sense… And like many others, I agonizingly anticipated the season finale, the much-needed emotional reconciliation!

I remember how the episode titles were revealed, bit by bit, and how I and others speculated on what they’d spell out! I remember when the fandom obsessed over the Witch’s Apprentice game and its relics, for clues and new lore after each episode, the little hints here or there! I was freaked out by characters like Belos, who lived up to my hopes and expectations- First being alluded to by name, then his amazing appearance… And then his voice and mannerisms and everything about him! And when the Season Finale came out…

Well, there was relief. But there was a bittersweet emptiness- That it was over! The first season was over! There was a celebratory triumph, of course- We finally wrapped up the first, major arc of the show, the first batch of episodes that had been worked upon, the whole thing now unveiled and appreciated! But I was a little dismayed because a part of me KNEW a hiatus much longer than the previous one was ahead of me, and I did not handle the mid-season hiatus well. Of course, then Dana had her Reddit AMA, and the charity livestream; Both of which NOURISHED me creatively, and have helped to fill out the wait! To carry out my momentum, to not flounder about in hiatus; I invested myself into more meta, into various posts, etc. I read fanfiction that genuinely floored me, obsessed over fanart, etc.

I supported the show’s release on Disney Plus, ecstatic to get this kind of ready access. I revisited past episodes and characters, looking at them in a new light, appreciating things; Like Luz’s relationship with fantasy… King’s surprising development, all of Eda’s little hints and clues. There’s been an emotional catharsis with these characters for me- And I genuinely feel like I’ve been a lot happier lately because of this show! I’ve met so many other blogs and gotten to know them, seen their ideas and displayed mine as we appreciated one another… I even remember doing another blog’s fanart prompt prior to the show’s release, in preparation!

I feel like The Owl House has genuinely given me a new appreciation for meta, for fandom and analysis… For headcanons, for writing my own stories and contributing my own ideas and speculations, etc.! It’s contributed SO much joy to me as a hyperfixation, and rapidly risen through my blog as my most frequent tag! And even as I explore other fandoms and hyperfixations, both then and now, especially to pass on this crippling hiatus… This show holds a VERY special place in my heart for me. It’s really made me feel for these characters, the love and sadness, the excitement and sense of comfort… Its love and emotions, angst and found family, lore and speculation, it hits so hard to me in a way that other media hasn’t!

It’s provided representation- Such as canonically queer characters, or protagonists who speak so well to the neurodivergent experience for many people! I’ve had delight in seeing people suggest Amity as autistic, when before Season 1B, I lowkey headcanoned and saw her as such- So seeing more evidence for this resonated deeply in my heart! I remember all of the discussion about King as a character, the confusion and talk about whether or not he WAS a King of Demons, when that first announcement in 2018 had made a similar claim… I looked forward to Eda and Lilith’s relationship, speculated on who cursed Eda, and remembered when I’d considered the Blights as a potential culprit! I remember thinking about Hooty, wondering what his deal is- And thinking then and now about that Owl Deity mural in the Owl House! Watching Luz’s development as a character and as a witch, seeing her become more proficient with magic until it finally pays off with her squaring up against Belos, and wounding him- I’d never felt so proud of a character and their progress before!

There’s still so many more questions and mystery, lore… as well as just genuine character interactions, to look forward to! I think The Owl House is one of my favorite shows of all time… It’s deeply touched me as a person and creator, and I genuinely strive to create something even close to this one day. This show has inspired me, made me laugh and cry, compelled me to creatively make content; It’s introduced me to a wider fandom that I genuinely feel like a part of, had me meet other mutuals… It really is something special to me. And while I am eager for Season 2, I also want to appreciate what Dana Terrace and her crew have already established. I love this show’s art style and animation, the designs and overall weirdness of its characters- I love speculating and thinking about them, getting more and more details, and so forth.

If it’s for a better product, I’m fine waiting for Season 2. And honestly, I love what we already have, and I’ve done a lot with so many people. I’ve even looked over supplementary materials and stuff posted by the crew or news articles, in my need for content… And I love every bit of update, art, and/or acknowledgement of the show’s hiatus, and Season 2’s development! There’s so much to look forward to… And there’s so much that I’ve enjoyed, after plenty of anticipation!

Thank you @danaterrace, and everyone who worked on this- For everything. It really is crazy to reflect on this entire year, to realize it’s been a full year since that first episode, since that first premiere that lit up my world like Luz’s light spells; And it feels like such a milestone that we’ve reached! I look forward to what comes next, and I also intend to keep appreciating and cherishing what we’ve already gotten. Here’s to this show’s second year, people- It’s been such a journey to look back on and remember each step, each phase, each particular moment and stage… And I can only imagine what will come next! This show has SUCH a special place in my heart, and has made me feel in so many ways I haven’t before!

Happy Birthday, The Owl House! You’ve earned it!

#the owl house #toh #owl house #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house eda #edalyn clawthorne #the owl house king #lumity #happy birthday #dana terrace #ramblings #nostalgia #meta

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bard-llama · 3 years

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WiP Wednesday: Upcoming Thronebreaker Fics + Gascon Backstory

Okay, for today’s WiP Wednesday, I wanna share a few fics I have planned for Thronebreaker! Don’t worry, I will definitely continue writing Iorveth/Roche (and also Isengrim/Eldain, though most of those haven’t been published yet. But I have a doc with 8 WiPs for them).

But now that I’ve properly met the Thronebreaker OT3, I am suuuuuuper here for them. I’m still kind of figuring out their dynamic, but to be honest, 90% of my fics will probably take place in the months they travel from Lyria’s capital to Aedirn, ‘cause that journey would take a long time! Even just to the border would be a long walk (and armies move SLOW), but then Vengerberg is fairly central and I assume Black Rayla comes in somewhere near the Moulderwoods, since that’s Eldain’s territory. So like... it would take MONTHS of slowly traveling down the road - and also probably avoiding patrols and maybe even towns, because they’re outlaws now. And considering most towns are BUILT on major roads...

Point is, there’s plenty of time for them to get to know each other while traveling to Aedirn. And I hear that Thronebreaker gets pretty sad and depressing (I don’t know the details, but I also don’t mind spoilers. I know some big ones already, but I’m sure there’s more) so tbh, not sure if I’ll ever finish the game. Which makes the period of Meve, Reynard, and their handful of deserters traveling with Gascon and his Strays of Spalla perfect for fic settings lol.

So far, I have 3 specific fics planned and a few other ideas percolating. The first one is the Taint of the Common Man, which I went into pretty in detail here, so I won’t repeat that (but be warned, link goes to very noncon/dubcon set up stuff).

The second fic is Gascon-focused angst! Well, really ot3 angst, but I’ve only written Gascon’s POV so far, though next is Reynard’s POV and then Meve’s. The premise is that they’re on the road to Aedirn and they’ve been sleeping together the three of them for several months - but Gascon gets a reminder of exactly what he is to them when they mention their 10th anniversary. And he tries to act normal and cheerful and brash, but his heart is breaking because he stupidly fell in love with a queen and her top general and what is he? Nothing.

So he starts to subtly pull away from them, trying to protect his heart. But Reynard notices and worries over it and brings it up with Meve - who is all “nah, he’s fine”, and then watches Gascon and has to rescind her words, because he is absolutely not fine. And Gascon is spending more and more time with his strays (and his right hand gal in particular, which they’re totally not jealous over or anything), so it has to be them that are the problem. Which means they have to talk.

I’m still thinking about non-sexual ways Meve and Reynard can show Gascon that he’s loved, so if you have any suggestions, feel free to throw them my way! But it’s definitely gonna have a happy ending with them working to show Gascon that he does belong with them.

The third fic is actually about Gascon becoming the Duke of Dogs XD If there’s a canon explanation, then too bad, because I like mine lol. Anyway, remember that right hand gal I mentioned? Well, her name is Medusa and she has purple hair that she braids and styles meticulously to look like snakes around her head. She also happens to be the best cat burglar in Aedirn - but she wasn’t always. So this fic is set way in the past, to when they first meet, because she’s the one that introduces him to the Strays of Spalla and vouches for him at first. Obviously later they both rise through the ranks and once Gascon takes over leadership, he works to make them more of a family (a family of crime lol).

Anyway, before any of that, we have Gascon as an 8yo who just saw his entire family murdered by the king’s guards for the crime of speaking out against the way nobles treat their people and their land. (idk if a reason is given in canon, but that’s my reason because it connects to some of the changes Gascon makes to the Strays. Basically, while they’re still a gang of criminals, I’ve decided to take inspiration from the incredible Black Panthers (who, to be clear, were NOT criminal, but were extensively treated like it by the FBI because they took care of and protected their community (you know, the ones the FBI was actively spying on and introducing highly addictive drugs to). I think I’ve lost the thread a bit and there are a lot of parentheses, so I’ll just conclude this bit by saying that my version of the Strays of Spalla steal from wealthy merchants and even wealthier nobles and use their ill-gotten gains to help the peasants (esp around Spalla, but across Lyria too). Which matters because I think Reynard semi understands that poor people are people (he talks to Meve about being proud to fight alongside the Strays because they’re fighting for freedom and what better cause is there?), but he’s still a nobleman who has spent the majority of his life at the king’s side. And Meve is queen. She has no fucking idea what the actual people of Lyria’s lives are like, because she’s always been concerned with managing her realm - which means managing nobles, who then are responsible for tending to their land aka getting taxes and shit from the peasants. So basically, both of them have a LOT of blindspots about what real actual people’s lives are like in their ‘great realm’. But Gascon? Gascon has lived that life.)

Right, so, the plot. The plot is actually not at all about how Gascon changes the Strays (oops), but about how he first joins them. So, 8yo Gascon. He just saw his family murdered, he was only saved because he was hidden in a closet, stuffing his own fist in his mouth to keep the guards from hearing him cry. But he Knows that they’ll kill him if they find out he survived, so he goes through the house and grabs what he can (what the guards didn’t loot) and tries not to throw up and cry too much. Then he runs.

But lil Gascon Brossard is a nobleman’s son and that’s the only life he’s known until now. And it’s obvious from his fine clothes that he has money - which means he ends up getting beaten and robbed on the streets a lot. Eventually, he learns to not share his name (’cause WOW that’s such a nobleman’s name lmao), but like... he’s 8. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s just trying to survive. (Also, for extra angst, I’m thinking he got his mom’s signet ring from the house before he left, but it got stolen. But when he’s older, he steals it back.)

I’m not sure why he decides to rob the house of a minor noble in the Spalla area, but he does. And he actually plans it pretty carefully - he creates a cigarette bomb for a time-delayed (minor) explosion that busts open the door to the kennel and scares all the dogs, so they go howling and barking and running and create chaos. (A noble’s household would likely have a lot of dogs, most of them working ones.) His plan is to break into the kitchen while everyone is otherwise occupied and steal enough to eat for a good while.

But before he can do this, while he’s hiding in the bushes and waiting for his bomb to go off, someone else finds him. Specifically, Medusa finds him - because she was casing the place to steal stuff (probably jewels. She really likes shiny things). So she pulls a knife on him and demands to know who he is. And idk if the Brossards owned a duchy or if he was just being cheeky, but he’s all, “I’m a duke!”

“Yeah?” Medusa laughs. “Duke of what?”

At that moment, the bomb goes off with a little pop and then utter chaos descends as dogs start howling and baying and barking. And Gascon just grins his gap-toothed grin (he probably lost some teeth getting beaten tbh) and proclaims, “of dogs!”

Then he invites her to come raid the kitchen with him. And she’s not 8yo, but she’s only a few years older and those pastries do smell good. So the steal the whole lot and then Medusa brings him into the Strays and it starts to get a little bit easier for Gascon to survive. Idk how much he hides his name (’cause Gascon is SUCH a nobleman’s name, but also, he later signs orders to his men with all his amazing made up titles and then -G) but he definitely starts going predominantly by “Duke” and “the Duke of Dogs”.

Anyway shit, I gotta go get ready for an event, so - hope you enjoyed hearing about my upcoming Thronebreaker fics!

#meve x reynard x gascon #thronebreaker ot3 #thronebreaker #wip wednesday #fic planning #the witcher

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boonki · 4 years

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ask from the lovely @lynnpaper from these prompts! Sorry in advance for the long post, but I love talking about my writing!! ❤️

F - Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

So this is a little snippet from my college au from a chapter I haven’t posted yet (or edited yet, for that matter)- I just love writing Anakin’s and Ahsoka’s friendship so much and I think this captures their dynamic well (at least I hope so!):

The small screen of Anakin’s laptop lights up the corner of his dorm room, a scary video game compilation playing on youtube. Ahsoka makes grabby hands for Anakin’s box of Cheez-its, and he reluctantly hands her the box, keeping his eyes glued to the screen. This has become their destressing ritual; Ahsoka always jokes that there’s nothing more relaxing than being scared shitless in a dark room at two am, and Anakin kind of has to agree. He does sleep better after watching Ahsoka lose her shit giggling and screaming for an hour.

The character onscreen makes their way through a nearly pitch black house, flashlight practically useless. Anakin’s stomach is clenched, a jump scare has to be coming soon.

Then, out of nowhere:

“So, are you going to ask him out?”

Anakin’s neck almost cracks, he snaps his head towards her so quickly. “What?”

She talks around a mouth of Cheez-its. “Oh, c’mon, you and Obi-wan. You clearly like him, and it sounds like he likes you too. So,” she shakes the box and shoves more into her mouth, giving herself chipmunk cheeks “you gon’ass’im?”

Anakin snatches the box out of her hands. “Absolutely not.”

Ahsoka sighs out of her nose and finishes chewing. “Why not? No-” she holds up a hand at his shriveling look “-hear me out. You really like him, Anakin. And I know we’ve never really talked about it, but I get the sense you’ve never really had a boyfriend before, and I don’t want you to pass this by just because you’re scared.”

Anakin is quiet for a moment, absentmindedly watching the video. “It’s not just that I’m scared. Well, I am, but it’s…” he shakes his head, grappling for the right words. Ahsoka watches him, patient. “Listen, my mom doesn’t know that I’m...that I like boys. And so I’ve never had the possibility of something working out with someone before, because I’ve always lived at home. And like, what if it works out and I fall in love with him, and then I lose him?” He closes his eyes at the emotion threatening tears, his honesty unlocking little bits of himself that he had neatly tucked away. “What if I fuck it all up? And the holidays are coming up and what if he wants to meet my family and what would I tell my mom? God, what if he doesn’t even like men and I’m just pining over someone I can’t have? Besides, why would he ever want someone like me?”

Ahsoka considers this all carefully, her lower lip pushed out in thought.

Anakin, eyes still closed, feels a sharp poke on his cheek: her finger. He startles, ready to admonish her, but she beats him to it.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

He looks down at the Cheez-it box. “I know, but-”

“And you deserve happiness, okay? Anakin, you deserve to be loved. I’m sorry that your mom doesn’t see eye to eye with you on this, but I’ll always love you and support you, no matter what, okay?” She reaches out and squeezes his bicep. “Go after him. You want this.”

Anakin can’t look at her, his eyes welling up in tears at her honesty, her love, her friendship. He is so lucky to have her.

She grabs the box back, takes a large handful into her mouth. “If you don’t ask him out, I’m gonna tell him about the time you farted when I cracked your back.”

He winces. “It was one time, please, let me forget.”

“Never. It smelled so bad.”

“I mean, I could probably go for one right now,” he presses on his stomach, and grins devilishly at her, “if we’re gonna talk about how bad they smell.”

Her eyebrows jump up, and so does she, racing for the door. “No, absolutely not, goodbye and goodnight, I am going home.”

“Come back, I’m kidding.” He’s laughing, deep belly laughs that are working to cleanse him of the sadness of their conversation.

She eyes him warily. “Pinky promise.”

He holds up his pinky. “Pinky promise.”

When she lifts her hand, he grabs her wrist and pulls her into his side, trapping her in a hug.

“Thank you, for, y’know...being my friend.” He mumbles into her hair while she squirms against him.

She stills. “Anytime, loser.” Her arms thread around his middle, hugging him back. He can smell the lingering Cheez-its on her breath. “I mean it, you deserve love.”

G - Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Start to finish! I usually outline in detail first and then sit down and actually do the writing. The only times I’ll write in advance is if a scene is really bugging to be written or I get sudden inspiration. Otherwise I confuse myself writing out of order- keeping track of all the details in a fic is really hard 😭

N - Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

Oooh yes. There’s this living ship/pirate au that we’ve kicked around on the discord server I’m a part of and I have a vague outline out of it but I have so many other projects going on so I haven’t gotten to it! But I’m so excited for it! I love the premise so much. I wish someone else could write it out so I could just read it 😂

R - Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

Most definitely! I can’t name names but every fic I read I pay attention to the style and prose and definitely get inspired by it and try to work it into my own writing! Lately I’ve been trying to get better at making sure there’s enough detail in a scene so it’s not all prose and dialogue, so I’ve been paying attention to that in fics. But if I’ve ever read your fic, you’ve influenced me in some way.

U - Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

This is so hard!! There are so many good writers out there!!

Off the top of my head:

@sonderwalker writes great sickfics and hurt/comfort, she makes me literally uwu in my heart

@shatouto has beautiful, lyrical works that i adore

@intermundia - everything they write is gold. my god

@katierosefun has wonderful little prompts that make me smile every time they come across my dash!

@jenjenpup her future in motion fic is one of my favorite right now!

@unpheenix young and menace is going to be one of my all time favs

lilyconrad on ao3 (anyone know their tumblr?) - i’ve read like everything theyve written

@xeniaraven i love everything!!! so good!! i always want to scream in the comments after

WhiteMoose and Ripki on ao3 - wrote fucking beautiful novels for fun?? hello?? their fics are amazing

and so many more omg literally all my friends on here are such talented writers that keep me on my toes! i feel like i have to keep up with them!! if you didn’t get mentioned please know that you should be on here, i just suck at remembering everyone (that’s what happens when you read like 453489 fics a day)

thank you for the ask my dear!! i hope you have a wonderful rest of your day!! ❤️❤️❤️

#ask game #lynnpaper #long post #fic #obikin #ao3

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silencebetrayer · 3 years

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Little People - An Irish Fairy Tale Part 2

The reign of dreams and roses

"Don't bother them, my dear. You were lucky they found your little trap hilarious!" "Mister O'Reilly, what happened in this valley? Why is everyone warning me against the little people?" A long silence followed, during which the old man sipped his Connemara peated whiskey. "Sweetheart, you may hear a lot of tales down at the pub, but also in our family there's something to tell. You've never known your cousin Billy, haven't you? Well, he might tell you about that time he became slave of the Queen of Spiny Roses for a whole moon cycle." "Slave?" "Don't be surprised. They're ancient souls. They conceive only those rapports they can understand and here in the citadel for a thousand years there was a Count and his servants. They don't understand this free life thing, without owners, where everyone seems equal to each other. They have a very strict hierarchy and I can promise you.. if you keep giving enough rope, they will tie you up. At least, that's what happened to Billy." "What did Billy have to do for the Queen?" "At that time Billy would have sold his soul to fill his glass, to those vices the good people like to cling. A night in the woods a little crowd of fairies bumped into giant Billy, the Queen ordered her folks to bring their guest a glass of the bitter Spirit's nectar. He guzzle that witches' brew without a single word. He could swear it was tasty like ambrosia of all forgotten Gods. The Queen claimed a payment for his drink and Billy started to mock her 'Is it I pay you?' said Billy 'could I not just take you up and put you in my pocket as easily as a blackberry?' The Queen did not let go of that insolence and the good lords tightened the invisible harness they caught him in and led him to their ruler like a steed. She imposed a vow of obedience till the end of next moon cycle and on occasion she showed off their rivals her power over him, claiming his tongue as footrest." "I don't get what you're saying, sir. You did tell me we've got power over fairy manifestation.. that it depends on our thoughts and our desires, our hopes and fears." The old man smiled "From what slavery would a man be freed? From drink-slavery or from a queen-slavery?" The girl understood that story was concealing a metaphor of redemption and humility. The old man's stories are indeed so bewildering: you never know where the symbol ends and the anecdote begins. "Anyway when we found Billy he was covered in stings from the waist up. He said the ball of Roses court had been held on his chest. A ball where every damsel's heel is a thorn of a flower and all skirts are petals. To us he had fallen in a field full of nettles." "What a strange story. I would never be enslaved by such a wicked Queen. Why didn't he rise up against her, I wonder." The old man shrugged muttering a proverb of his parts "The lake is not burdened by its swan, the steed by its bridle, or a man by the soul that is in him".

***

That night Elizabeth wrote a quick note in Gaelic by the windowsill:"I want to meet you. Come and see me.". She left a sugar cube as gift. The girl rolled over her bed restlessly, hoping her message would reach its destination and, as often happens, sleep came all of a sudden, like a swoon. She found herself in a very strange place never seen before. It resempled an ancient kitchen on the basement of a castle, with no windows, red briks as walls and roof, painted cardboard as wallpaper on one side, a makeshift chimney. Outside the noise of the rain was heavy and emptied out of the comforting sensation with which it gifted melancholic souls. She was identifying in that room a combination of minuscule things. All chairs were small wooden cubes of an old child's game, and so was the table. They weren't comfy, but pieces of cloth stuffed with wool, roughly sewn, gave softness to the seat. A pocket mirror served as tray for a miniature porcelaine tea set, a bit chipped, but lovely at first sight. The sugar cube she had left in gift was lying right next to it, with an awl sticked at its center. The girl realized she was falling in a bizarre dream scenario, but something real was also taking place. "Is this a dream?" "Of course, little girl" answered a middle-aged male voice from the outside. The small door of that sort of kitchen was a metal shutter. A man was moving it with his shoulder, carrying a bundle of sticks or twigs bound together and a bucket of water. Covered with a waterproof plastic bag, the man laid down all the materials and cast a glance over the table to be sure everything was in place. His big nose and bushy eyebrows gave him an austere touch and there was something of the craftsman's wisdom in his skilled hands and his silence. He hunged his unusual coat on the knight's head of a chessboard (his clothes rack, she guessed). The girl was paralyzed and hugged herself in the nightgown. She wasn't cold, the atmosphere was warm enough, she was feeling a sense of vulnerability that made her closed off. The man took care of the fireplace and fill the water on the teapot. "Come closer to the fireplace, kid!" He had a raspy voice and an unjustified scowl to her feeling. "Why'd you bring me here?" He looked her up and down like a fool, then he nodded toward the table where a piece of paper was serving as tablecloth. 'I want to meet you.' read the girl, recognizing her handwriting. "But.. are you Tuvia!?" After a moment of silence, during which the man was trying to catch the sincerity of the question, he laughed outright "AHAHAH Me? That leaf in the wind? Do I seem a rain spirit?! I thought you were a smart one, kid, but if these are the premises.." The girl didn't seem to appreciate the little man humour "So Sir.. you picked up a message that was not addressed to you. Why should you interfere with my correspondence?!" "Correspondence? Look, sweetie.. what do you think we have a mail service here in Bluebell forest? We give more values to a tree then your own kind.. we don't waste their sheets for a futile message." "Who the hell are you, anyway? Little people? What are you doing here in my dreams?" "That's how we meet for the first time. We don't accept invitations from strangers." The teapot started to splutter on the fireplace, the steam bubbles looked like small domes and the water sounded so much deeper then usual.. she understood that her size was making every sound so alien and unsettling. From the infusion aromas of wildflowers started to spread in the room. "What's your name?" "My dear, what sort of question is that? I'm the guardian spirit of O'Really's family. My name's O'Really, of course" "So.. Do Guardian spirits take the name from the family they protect?" He didn't answer. He didn't seem to like rhetorical question, but was forcing himself to stay kind and served the tea calmly with a piece of sugar cube in it. "Listen, child. We Home spirits don't talk more than is strictly necessary. Our silence is our invisibility. So let me get right to the point: you heard elder O'Reilly advice before.. Do not upset the spirits of these woods. He's telling you this for your own good" Being called 'child" from that Spirit turned Elizabeth against him. She changed attitude and the tone of voices turned sharp and bitter. "So you just don't collect someonelse's letters, you also eavesdrop their conversations!" Talking to her was a great exercise in patience, he acknowledged. "It's not what you're thinking.. I can't just ignore whatever happens inside these walls. We're born from the feelings of this family, if they are worried for you, so am I. That's why I appear in your dream." "I weep from your sudden sentimentality" she said sarcastically "but I'm willing to bet that you were able to eavesdrop on our conversations simply because your lair is not so far from the fireplace" "I'm warning you, don't try to find it. You'd cause trouble to the O'Really family!" "Perhaps you should've considered that before you invited me in first place, you silly little man! Now, give this KID here a good reason she should not wake up and start to play cat-and-mouse game with you?" She sipped the tea, staring at the little spirit with an imperious smile that didn't bode well. "A reason, you say? With humans reasoning is not persuasive. I just pointed the sill you shall not cross, my dear, I didn't mean to push you through it" "Advice I didn't ask for" she crossed her arms and the situation freezed up. The home spirit resigned himself. "How do I wake?" she asked. "Don't worry, soon enough you'll be laying in your bed. Humans have control over the waking hours, but we spirits have our revenge in dreams realm. You're lucky we didn't inherit your cruelty. Anyway, if I can't dissuade you, I will be your messenger and maybe one day I will lead you to Tuvia" "I don't get if you're here to sabotage me or to help me" "We should not threaten the delicate balance currently in place in Bluebell forest. The Queen of Roses is the keeper of this equilibrium, she can't bear humans intrusiveness into her reign. Especially from someone that does look like her." "Do I look like the Queen of Roses?" Elizabeth's questions were to him as sharp and wit as the echo of a well. "Tuvia fought The Court of Roses, you know?" "That light thingie? He's fragile like a blade of grass. I bet if I dare to lay down in the garden he'd become a stain on my dress. Also, if he's so brave why isn't he in the forest, why doesn't he just keep fighiting?" "He's an exile, he no longer knows the comfort of a border. He's devoted to the rain, cause he sees himself and his destiny in the clouds. A new Queen would save him. But he doesn't want to be saved!" The Spirit of O'Reilly got pretty mouthy with sadness. Elizabeth recognized some of the distinctive features of elder Mr O'Reilly and the hardness of Mrs O'Reilly too. A weird mix of both personality traits. Elizabeth sipped the infusion, this time fully enjoying the aroma of freshly picked flowers. She felt her body tossing in her sleep.. she didn't want to wake right now. O'Reilly spirit stared at her then nodded as a farewell. When she opened her eyes, the Spirit's last words were echoing in her head, filling the heart with an odd hope "a new Queen.." she repeated to herself. She could have sworn to feel the wildflowers taste on the tip of her tongue.

To Be Continued...

Ita version

Il regno delle rose e dei sogni

"Non disturbarli, ragazza mia. Sei stata fortunata che abbiano preso con umorismo la tua piccola trappola! In qualche modo devono aver trovato la tua provocazione uno spasso!" "Signor O'Reilly, cosa è successo in questa valle per cui tutti mi mettono in guardia da loro" Ci fu un lungo silenzio in cui il vecchio sorseggiò il suo Whiskey, rigorosamente torbato del Connemara. "Sweetheart, ne potresti sentire un bel pò giù al pub. Ma in famiglia abbiamo già di che raccontare. Tu non lo hai mai conosciuto il cugino Billy. Beh, lui potrebbe dirti di quella volta che restò schiavo per una luna intera della regina delle fate Rosa Spinae." "Schiavo?" "Non ti stupire, sono anime antiche, concepiscono solo i rapporti che conoscono e per più di 1000 anni qui nella rocca c'era un conte e i suoi servi, non la capiscono questa faccenda moderna del vivere senza padroni, dove tutti sembrano uguali eccetera. Hanno una rigida gerarchia e puoi giurarci che se continui a dargli spago ti daranno il bel servito, come fu per il vecchio Billy" "Cosa fece Billy per la regina?" "A quel tempo Billy si sarebbe dannato l'anima per riempirsi il bicchiere, ed è ai vizi che il buon popolo si appiglia. Quando una notte in un bosco la piccola schiera si imbattè in quel gigante, la regina ordinò che gli fosse portato un bicchiere del fiele degli spiriti, lui non se lo fece ripetere e lo trangugiò d'un fiato. Billy giurò che era il nettare liquoroso di tutti gli dei ormai dimenticati. La regina reclamò un pagamento e Billy la derise 'Io pagare te? Ma se posso metterti tranquillamente in tasca come una mora!' La regina non passò sopra quell'insolenza e il buon popolo lo legò a briglie invisibili che non potevano essere sciolte e quel che è peggio gli impose il voto dell'obbedienza per una luna intera. Di venne il destriero della regina, ma all'occorrenza la regina dava sfoggio di potere alle sue rivali, reclamando la lingua del gigante come poggiapiedi" "Non mi torna quel che dite, signore. Avevate detto che noi abbiamo potere sulla manifestazione delle fate e che dipendono dai nostri desideri" Il vecchio sorrise "Quale schiavitù potrebbe desiderare un uomo? Quella del suo bicchiere o della sua regina?" La ragazza capì che quella storia celava una metafora di redenzione e umiltà. Avevano questo di disorientante, i racconti del vecchio: non sapevi mai dove finiva il simbolo e cominciava l'aneddoto. "Comunque quando lo trovarono Billy era ricoperto di punture dalla vita in su. Disse che sul suo petto si era tenuto il ballo della corte delle Rosa Spinae, in cui ogni damigella ha per tacco una spina di un fiore e per gonna i suoi petali, ma per molti era solo caduto su un campo di ortiche" "Che storia strana. Ma io non sarei mai schiava di una regina così perfida. Perchè non si è ribellato, mi chiedo?" commentò lei "Il cigno non pesa sul suo lago, la briglia non pesa al suo cavallo, né l'anima sull'uomo che la possiede" cantilenò l'uomo, facendo spallucce.

Quella notte scrisse una piccola nota in gaelico che lasciò davanti al davanzale. Diceva soltanto: "Voglio conoscervi. Venitemi a trovare", lasciò una zolletta di zucchero in dono. Si rigirava nel letto inquieta, nella speranza che il messaggio arrivasse a destinazione, e come spesso accade il sonno arrivò come un deliquio, senza preavviso. Si ritrovò in un luogo che non aveva mai visto prima d'ora. Una specie di antica cucina, senza finestre, mattoni rossi tutt'intorno, carta da parati di cartone con le sembianze di un giardino davano più respiro alla stanza. Fuori il rumore della pioggia era pesante e svuotato della sensazione di conforto che regala agli animi malinconici. Individuava negli oggetti della stanza una combinazione di cose minuscole. Le sedie erano piccoli cubetti di legno, appartenuti a qualche antico gioco. così come il tavolo. Non erano per nulla comodi, ma i pezzi di stoffa imbottita e cucita grossolanamente davano sollievo alla seduta. Uno specchietto da beauty asserviva alla funzione di vassoio sul quale erano poggiate tazzine che potevano provenire da un servizio da the in miniatura per bambole di porcellana, un pò sbeccato, ma grazioso a vedersi. La zolletta che aveva donato stava su un lato del ripiano di legno, con una specie di punteruolo conficcato al suo centro. La ragazza capì che era un sogno, ma aveva qualcosa di reale. "E' un sogno, questo?" "Certo, ragazzina" Rispose la voce di un uomo di mezza età dall'esterno. La porticina della cucina non era che un pezzo di serranda di ferro, l'uomo entrò con in mano dei legnetti rilegati e un secchiello d'acqua, avvolto in un impermeabile di tela. Poggiò l'occorrente a lato della porta, le sopracciglia cespugliose gli conferivano un'aria severa e le mani vissute, una saggezza artigianale. Appese l'insolito impermeabile sulla testa di un cavallo di scacchiera, che evidentemente fungeva da appendiabiti. La ragazza era paralizzata e si stringeva nella sua camicia da notte, non per il freddo, l'atmosfera era calda nonostante il rifugio sembrasse improvvisato, erano le pareti laterali di mattone ad emanare calore, ma avvertiva un senso di vulnerabilità che la faceva chiudere a riccio. L'uomo si premurò di accendere il fuoco in un buco del mattone e di riempire la teiera sospesa sul paiolo sostenuto da una corda e un ago, dalla capocchia ornata da una manigliuola. "Vieni più vicino alla luce del fuoco, ragazzina!" Aveva una voce roca e il tono presentava un cipiglio ingiustificato agli occhi di lei. "Si può sapere perchè mi trovo qui?" L'uomo la squadrò come a darle della matta, poi con un cenno del capo fece notare che la tavola era apparecchiata sul suo frammento di pergamena "Voglio conoscervi", riconobbe la ragazza. La sua scrittura. "Ma.. siete.. siete Tuvia?!" Dopo un attimo di silenzio, in cui l'uomo la fissava per cogliere in lei la sincerità della sua domanda, scoppiò in una fragorosa risata "AHAHAH Io? Quell'uccell di bosco di Tuvia!? Ho l'aria da piovano, io? Ti credevo sveglia ma se queste sono le premesse.." La ragazza non sembrava aver apprezzato l'umorismo dell'omino "Allora signore.. avete forse raccolto un messaggio non rivolto a voi!? Come vi permettete di interferire con la mia Corrispondenza!" "Corrispondenza? Senti dolcezza, cosa pensi che abbiamo il servizio postale in quel di Bluebell? Noi ai fogli d'albero diamo ben altro valore. Non lo sprechiamo per messaggi futili e sconsiderati." "Chi diavolo siete voi e che ci fate nei miei sogni?" "E' così che ci si incontra noi, la prima volta! Non accettiamo inviti dagli sconosciuti" La teiera cominciava a scoppiettare sul fuoco, le bolle di vapore avevano un aspetto cupolare e un suono più cupo del normale, dovevano essere quelle dimensioni a rendere ogni rumore anche il più familiare totalmente estraneo e inquietante. Nella stanza cominciò a diffondersi un odore di fiori che proveniva dall'infuso. "Come vi chiamate?" "Che razza di domanda è? Sono lo spirito protettore degli O'Reilly, quindi mi chiamo come loro" "Gli spiriti protettori portano il nome della famiglia?" Non rispose, sembrava un pò scocciato dalla retoricità delle domande, ma la ragazza aveva l'impressione che si sforzasse di essere gentile. Aveva messo in infusione una manciata di briciole di the e polline che raccoglieva da una bustina dilaniata come un sacchetto. Versò l'infusione nella tazzina che stava di fronte a lei. Staccò un paio di pezzi dalla zolletta per lei, sapeva persino come prendeva il the. "Ascolta ragazzina, noi spiriti della casa non parliamo più dello stretto necessario. Il nostro silenzio è la nostra invisibilità, quindi fammi andare al punto: Hai sentito cosa ha detto il buon vecchio O'Reilly stasera no? 'Non disturbare gli spiriti del bosco', lo ha detto per il tuo bene." Al sentirsi chiamare 'ragazzina' il tono della voce di lei si fece più risentito e squillante "Quindi oltre che profanatore di lettere, anche un origliatore maleducato" L'omino sospirò con enorme esercizio di pazienza "Non è come pensi.. non mi è possibile ignorare quello che succede entro queste mura, siamo nati dai sentimenti della famiglia che ha costruito questa casa. Se ti appaio in sogno è perchè questa famiglia si preoccupa per te" "il vostro sentimentalismo mi commuove" disse sarcasticamente, "ma sono pronta a scommettere che voi avete origliato per il semplice fatto che questo vostro rifugio si trova vicino al focolare" "Ti avverto ragazzina, non cercare di trovarlo, causeresti un dolore agli O'Reilly" "Dovevate pensarci prima di invitarmi qui, razza di stupido omino. E adesso datemi una buona ragione per cui questa 'ragazzina'" rimarcò la parola "non dovrebbe svegliarsi e venire a farvi fare la fine del topo" Sorseggiava la tazza di the adesso, fissando l'uomo con un sorriso imperioso, che non prometteva nulla di buono. "Ragioni? Se c'è qualcosa che so degli esseri umani è che la logica con voi non è persuasiva. Ho solo indicato la soglia da non varcare, ragazza mia, ma non era mia intenzione regalarvi la determinazione per attraversarla." "Il vostro consiglio non è richiesto" Incrociò le braccia. Calò un pò di gelo tra i due. Il sadismo giovanile di lei aveva fatto affiorare al viso del vecchio uno sguardo triste, leggermente rassegnato. "Come faccio a svegliarmi?" "Non ti preoccupare, presto sarai sul tuo letto, bambina. Voi avrete pur il controllo dei momenti di veglia, ma noi abbiamo la nostra rivincita nei sogni e sei fortunata che non abbiamo la vostra stessa crudeltà. Comunque.. se non posso dissuaderti, sarò il tuo messaggero e un giorno, forse, ti porterò da lui." disse quasi burbero "Quasta poi.. volevate sabotarmi e adesso vorreste anche farmi da guida" "La foresta di Bluebell si basa su un fragile equilibrio, il custode di quell'equilibrio, la Regina delle Rose, non ama l'invadenza umana, specie da una che le somiglia così tanto" "Io... somiglierei alla Regina?" Ignorò ancora quelle domande che avevano la stessa arguzia dell'eco di un pozzo. "Tuvia l'ha combattuta, sai.. la Corte delle Rose Spinae." "Quel cosino? Ma se è fragile come un filo d'erba. Scommetto che se mi stendessi in giardino, potrebbe diventare una macchia sul mio vestito. Se è così coraggioso, poi, perchè non è nella foresta a combattere?" "Lo vedi in giardino perchè è un esule e non conosce più la comodità di un confine. Si è consacrato alla pioggia, perchè si riconosce nelle nuvole. Una nuova regina.. questo lo salverebbe. E lui.. non vuole essere salvato!" Lo spirito degli O'Reilly con la tristezza si era fatto stranamente loquace, riconosceva qualcosa nel vecchio in lui, aveva la stessa dolcezza sotto una scorza dura che era più simile a quella della signora O'Reilly, uno strano mix. Elizabeth sorseggiò quell'infuso, stavolta godendone appieno l'aroma. Era come di tiglio. Avvertì che si stava agitando nel sonno. Non voleva svegliarsi proprio ora. Lo spirito degli O'Reilly la fissava e con un cenno del capo sembrò quasi accomiatarsi. Quando riaprì gli occhi sul suo letto, le ultime parole dello Spirito riecheggiavano ancora nelle sue orecchie riempiendola di non so quale speranza.. "Una nuova regina", si ripeteva. Poteva giurare di sentire ancora il sapore di tiglio sulla punta della lingua.

#fairy #sizeshifter #giantess #tiny #giant/tiny #male fairy #ireland #irlanda #gigantessa #g/t #g/t writing #g/t fiction #g/t fluff #g/t community #borrowers #g/t sfw #g/t story #g/t fantasy #gentle g/t

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bisluthq · 4 years

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SS Tily does not lay claim to Lover; a thesis

I thought this would take me longer but y’all, I’m done with Part 2 of my Gaylor analyses. Unfortunately this chapter brings bad news for Tily nation. I honestly don’t think many of the songs on Lover are about that relationship. But I also think it’s not as simple as the mainstream Kaylor narrative would have us believe. Let’s dive into this, shall we?

First things first. I think it’s worth noting that many of the songs on this album are not about romantic relationships at all. Like it’s a bit of a marketing ploy to portray it as an album primarily about romantic love when so many songs explicitly aren’t about that feeling. In fact, there are more themes on Lover than on any of her earlier stuff - it’s something she expands on in folklore.

I Forgot That You Existed, The Man, The Archer (which I firmly believe is about her debating coming out), Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince (very obviously about the political situation generally and supported by the doccie title), London Boy, Soon You’ll Get Better, YNTCD, and ME! are all about explicitly different themes. Obviously there are a couple references within those (like ME! has that line about “I never leave well enough alone” which reappears on the 1, and The Archer mentions someone “staying” but I still think ME! is about self-love not romantic love and The Archer is about personal anxiety around identity). Fundamentally, they are not love songs.

I don’t think that’s really up for debate. The only one I can see anyone - say Toes or like hardcore Tily fans - debating is London Boy. Unfortunately for my Tily babes, I do think it’s satire that serves as a homage to Joe and the other British beards, and possibly riffs a teeny bit on her time with Lily. Contrary to some gold medalists in Kaylor mental gymnastics, I fully believe Tay does make reference to Joe in her lyrics (I’ve mentioned the fictional verse for Dress and the reference to “keeping him” in Ready for It). This really doesn’t have any of the hallmarks of Tily songs off of Rep. The British references in CIWYW, KOMH and Delicate are subtle and chilled and actually quite cute. London Boy is an onslaught of non-sequiturs about London, the UK and her beards. Also “stories from uni” fits both Joe and Tom H, but it doesn’t fit Lily who never went to university. All her Lily songs are about hiding out in private; London Boy is all about galavanting around town with “his” friends (Lily and Tay had the same friends though?) It’s simply not about the same person or the same relationship.

I do think there’s a chance it could be poking fun (lightly) at Lily/that period she spent in London because as I’ve already said I think Tay is not above shading ex-girlfriends and it seems like the kind of thing Karlie would’ve also found a bit funny. I think when she got back together with Karlie - which almost definitely happened - she would’ve 100% laughed about the “say you fancy me not fancy stuff” era. That would explain the recurrence of both Motown and queen imagery, which first appeared on KOMH. But where KOMH felt very genuine and authentic, this one is obviously meant to be funny.

Right. So. Now that we’ve established 8 songs are about other themes, let’s get the Kaylor songs sorted: Cruel Summer, Cornelia Street, DBATC, False God and Daylight are all undeniably about Karlie fucking Kloss. They all feature the images and tropes and hallmarks that pepper Karlie songs. They all have the same kinds of emotions. And they paint a pretty sad, troubling and complex picture.

Cruel Summer comes first and seems to mostly be about their first breakup, which she first referred to on DWOHT. We have Tay once again begging Karlie to stay and work it out and not being certain for sure about her feelings.

We say that we'll just screw it up in these trying times

We're not trying (Oh yeah, you're right, I want it)

I mean that’s super sad. Tay’s saying they discussed how they’ll fuck it all up, and she’s feeling like they’re not even trying to fix things. You also have that “I want it” which is interesting considering the “we” that preceded it. “We’re” not trying because only “I want it”. Ouch.

Killing me slow, out the window

I'm always waiting for you to be waiting below

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

And it's new, the shape of your body

It's blue, the feeling I've got

And it's ooh, whoa oh

It's a cruel summer

It's cool, that's what I tell 'em

No rules in breakable heaven

But ooh, whoa oh

It's a cruel summer

With you

Here we have “I’m always waiting for you” which yet again suggests Tay is the one who’s more invested. Then we have the shape of “your” body (which is a familiar concept from Dress), but the feeling it gives her here is blue here not gold - maybe that’s why the shape is new? In the past Karlie’s body made her feel golden but now it’s a bluer, sadder feeling. Blue starts recurring more frequently on these late era Kaylor songs. There’s a possible alternate reading, which is blue = Swiftgron (“my love had been frozen deep blue”). It’s a nice theory but it just doesn’t gel with the garden gate below. Also, while both relationships seem to have been colored by commitment issues, the premise of unrequitedness doesn’t really feature on the songs about Di. She asks Di to stay, tells her she’s thinking of her, and they’re “too in love to think straight” but Tay never says Karlie loves her back. Ever. It’s never expressly mutual.

I'm drunk in the back of the car

And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (Oh)

Said, "I'm fine," but it wasn't true

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

And I snuck in through the garden gate

Every night that summer just to seal my fate (Oh)

And I scream, "For whatever it's worth

I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

He looks up, grinning like a devil

Look at that fourth line. It perfectly fits with the Kaylor narrative on Rep and it doesn’t fit the Tily songs at all. She wanted to keep that second relationship private and secret and hidden. And here she’s saying “I don’t want to keep secrets” - this is take two of “I don’t want you like a best friend”. Also the “for whatever it’s worth” reminds me of “here’s the truth” from End Game. It’s the kind of thing you’d say in the midst of a fight.

Then we have her screaming “I love you” and receiving no reply as usual beyond a devilish grin. The more I do these analyses the less I understand how or why Kaylor gets romanticized in the way it does, while Swiftgron gets bashed for toxicity. Like my girl Tay has a thing for chaotic lesbians with commitment issues and Kaylor seems like it was WILD.

Back to the lyrics, this time let’s look at Kaylor anthem Cornelia Street:

We were in the backseat

Drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar

"I rent a place on Cornelia Street"

I say casually in the car

We were a fresh page on the desk

Filling in the blanks as we go

As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead

Leading us home

I find this whole song really interesting because it features one of Tay’s favorite ideas - glamorizing normal people things. It’s like the time with the “motel bar” in Getaway Car. Like she 100% was thrilled to be able to say “I’m renting this apartment” - never mind that it’s basically a whole ass house. I actually think the above verse is really beautiful. I know I give Kaylor a lot of shit but obviously there were beautiful moments and Tay had/has plenty of good memories.

And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name

And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

I mean frankly this verse above is super insecure in the standard Kaylor way. Tay’s saying she’s terrified of Karlie walking away and that she “hopes” she never loses her. The tone is sad, forlorn and a little desperate. I also think it’s interesting that she says she’d never walk Cornelia Street again, and that the city screams Karlie’s name and then on hoax she goes ahead and says she left a part of herself back in New York. It’s almost like her fears and anxieties did prove justified. Poor baby.

Windows flung right open, autumn air

Jacket 'round my shoulders is yours

We bless the rains on Cornelia Street

Memorize the creaks in the floor

Back when we were card sharks, playing games

I thought you were leading me on

I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street

Before you even knew I was gone

But then you called, showed your hand

I turned around before I hit the tunnel

Sat on the roof, you and I

Those first four lines seem to be about the good again, and I’m happy for them. I really do think they had good times. Those four lines make me think of parts of YAIL and the toast and weekends and stuff.

The rest of this verse though seems to be about the first split and subsequent reunion. “I thought you were leading me on” she says, and I “left Cornelia Street” presumably to go to London. But then Karlie called her back, “showed her hand” and Tay “turned around” before she reached the point of no return and they worked it out. “Sat on the roof, you and I” is similar in content to “up on the roof with a schoolgirl crush” but very different in tone. She’s not peppy here, she’s not positive. It’s a little bit tortured - and then it continues with “hoping it never ends”. The reappearance of the Tily imagery on Kaylor 2.0 songs makes sense to me, again, because discussing exes in the same social circle as you is just blatant lesbian culture. It makes complete sense that these two women are on Taylor’s mind. She has really really deep feelings for Karlie but she enjoyed the more simple and straightforward relationship she had with Lily.

DBATC is the Kaylor 1.0 breakup anthem:

Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts

Flashbacks waking me up

I get drunk, but it's not enough

'Cause the morning comes and you're not my baby

I look through the windows of this love

Even though we boarded them up

Chandelier's still flickering here

'Cause I can't pretend it's okay when it's not

It's death by a thousand cuts

We have her getting drunk to forget, trying to say “I’m fine” when it’s not true, and just generally missing Karlie.

I dress to kill my time, I take the long way home

I mean, this is Cornelia Street (“never walk here again”) and Dress all over again. It’s the two ideas from before but now on the other side, because they’re actually broken up.

And what once was ours is no one's now

I see you everywhere, the only thing we share

Is this small town

You said it was a great love, one for the ages

But if the story's over, why am I still writing pages?

“I see you everywhere” is very “this city screams your name” and I think “small town” is a metaphor for their social circle. The last two lines are just Tay being hung up on Karlie. She was writing pages in Cornelia Street as well, so this whole idea of telling a story with Karlie is another recurrent image.

My heart, my hips, my body, my love

Tryna find a part of me that you didn't touch

Gave up on me like I was a bad drug

Now I'm searching for signs in a haunted club

Our songs, our films, united, we stand

Our country, guess it was a lawless land

Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand

Paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans

My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust

Tryna find a part of me you didn't take up

Gave you so much, but it wasn't enough

But I'll be alright, it's just a thousand cuts

I mean this is the usual obsession, desperation and general pining Tay has for Karlie. We also have Karlie touching her briefly, which is something she has spoken about before and is really into. Paper-thin plans is probably about the plans to make it work? We have that image reparations later in hoax so I think it’s most likely about Karlie bailing on Tay’s PR game and doing her own thing and/or Karlie’s (accidental?) involvement in the masters heist.

Also, this whole song is very sad but it’s not on the level of desperation I would expect if Tay wasn’t rebounding hard and if they didn’t reunite. She’s pretty sad about how the whole thing went down but she does say she’ll “be alright” which is the opposite of “that’s the kind of heartbreak time could never mend”. I think she wrote this after the first breakup and Cornelia Street came later, after they were back together. That’s when she really went all in into this relationship. It still wasn’t enough.

False God is about their reunion:

We were crazy to think

Crazy to think that this could work

Remember how I said I'd die for you?

We were stupid to jump

In the ocean separating us

Remember how I'd fly to you?

We know Tay ran away to Europe after the mess of 2016 and here she jumps into the ocean separating them and flies back to Karlie. The idea of it being “crazy” that it could work is also a recurrent fear/anxiety she has with regards to Karlie. “I had a bad feeling,” remember?

And I can't talk to you when you're like this

Staring out the window like I'm not your favorite town

I'm New York City, I still do it for you, babe

They all warned us about times like this

They say the road gets hard and you get lost

When you're led by blind faith, blind faith

They’re figuring things out, and Tay is New York - Karlie’s favorite city. “I still do it for you” is an admission of affection, which rarely happens in Kaylor songs, but it’s so sexual that I don’t find it shocking or out of character.

But we might just get away with it

Religion's in your lips

Even if it's a false god

We'd still worship

We might just get away with it

The altar is my hips

Even if it's a false god

We'd still worship this love

I mean sex songs are just peak Kaylor and this is all just so so so gay and I don’t understand how hets can make it make srnse. “We might just get away with it” is the usual Kaylor anxiety by the way.

I know heaven's a thing

I go there when you touch me, honey

Hell is when I fight with you

But we can patch it up good

Make confessions and we're begging for forgiveness

Got the wine for you

And you can't talk to me when I'm like this

Daring you to leave me just so I can try and scare you

You're the West Village

You still do it for me, babe

They all warned us about times like this

They say the road gets hard and you get lost

When you're led by blind faith, blind faith

Standard Kaylor imagery with sensual touching, wine and New York and a direct reference to Karlie’s apartment. I think “make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness” appears to refer to the reunion.

Daylight is a very beautiful love song for Karlie. The “golden”, the bodies intertwining, New York, and the depth of her emotions all fit the Kaylor story and narrative. I think she wrote this when they were back together. It’s also, as is common with the Kaylor songs, squarely from Tay’s perspective. She wrote it alone, and I think specifically for Karlie when they reunited. Very pretty, very nice. I mean they ended up breaking up and that was bound to happen in like every other song but when they were good Tay did create some gems and they were very happy. I love this song and I do like aspects of Kaylor’s time together.

Now we get onto the songs that don’t neatly fit Kaylor.

Afterglow could be a Kaylor song. But it could also be about the breakup with her rebound. It’s not only by Tay, so we’re looking for broad themes rather than specifics necessarily.

Hey, it's all me, in my head

I'm the one who burned us down

But it's not what I meant

Sorry that I hurt you

I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you (Ooh)

I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you (Ooh)

I need to say, hey, it's all me, just don't go

Meet me in the afterglow

I don’t know that this sounds like the Kaylor breakup we heard about. It’s a different premise to False God, DBATC and Cornelia Street. In all of those songs it was a mutual breakup/misunderstanding. “I can’t talk to you” and then “you can’t talk to me” in False God is a two-way communication issue. DBATC goes off at Karlie for taking up every part of her and “giving up on me”. Cornelia Street said Tay thought Karlie was “leading her on” but that was resolved. Then Afterglow goes and lays all the blame on Tay.

I lived like an island, punished you with silence

Went off like sirens, just crying

Why'd I have to break what I love so much?

It's on your face, don't walk away, I need to say

Hey, it's all me, in my head

I'm the one who burned us down

I mean this really does sound like it’s Tay fucking up badly. Not wanting to let the other person in, taking it out on them, hurting her lover.

It's so excruciating to see you low

Just wanna lift you up and not let you go

This ultraviolet morning light below

Tells me this love is worth the fight, oh

This really doesn’t sound like the Kaylor fear and stress. It sounds like the cerebral and emotional connection from Rep. “It’s so excruciating to see you low” seems tied up with the heart to hearts and conversations she was having in those secondary songs on Rep.

Tell me that you're still mine

Tell me that we'll be just fine

Even when I lose my mind

I need to say

Tell me that it's not my fault

Tell me that I'm all you want

Even when I break your heart

I need to say

This just seems like a very different plan for fixing things than the one outlined in the Kaylor songs (which is “let’s bone”). Also “I break your heart” is an anxiety that seems to parallel the burgeoning love in Delicate, KOMH and CIWYW. It doesn’t seem like a Kaylor fear because Tay is always the one who wants Karlie more. I believe this is mostly a Tily breakup song.

Then we get the three happy songs on the album: Lover, I Think He Knows and Paper Rings. It’s actually pretty intense that there are only three peppy, romantic songs on an album largely touted by Gaylors and Hetlors alike as being about a happy long term relationship.

You want my controversial explanation for these songs? They’re fictional. All three are extremely vague and lacking in any of the Karlie/other person imagery. They’re like New Year’s Day and some of the early stuff.

I Think He Knows is a very hetro song. It physically pains me to say that, it really does, but nothing about it seems gay to me. I guess “boyish look” is something you could say about some women but that’s really a reach. Also it’s just very much not a relatable lesbian emotion. I’ve never met a queer woman being like “yeah I think she KNOWS, you know?” about her girlfriend. “She’s so obsessed with me and boy I understand” would make no sense. Us sapphics are compulsive overthinkers. And that’s what comes across on all her songs about Karlie and about Di and even those Tily songs from Rep. That’s largely why Tay’s stuff is so damn gay.

Tay’s permanently anxious - even on her love songs, there’s a thread of anxiety running through it all. This song is missing any of that anxiety. This song also has so, so many male pronouns…. And “I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans” is an objectively weird thing to say about a relationship. It just doesn’t strike me as sapphic, and it definitely doesn’t strike me as being about Karlie lr Lily or Di. Also Nashville is 16th Avenue and I don’t know why any of the women would be associated with Nashville.

That Nashville reference makes me think that maybe the song is inspired by the music industry generally? If you go look at 16th Avenue by Lacy J. Dalton, there’s a clear narrative about the music industry. I think it’s possible that Tay’s song is referencing the love she feels for and from the music industry and her fans. That would tie into the architectural plans, being 17 (she often speaks about being stuck at that age because it’s when she got famous), and “he’s so obsessed with me” makes sense when you’re AOTD. Even the “attitude” line makes sense in this interpretation.

This bit:

Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh

We can follow the sparks, I'll drive

Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh

We can follow the sparks, I'll drive

"So where we gonna go?"

I whisper in the dark

"Where we gonna go?"

I think he knows

Is a little harder to make sense of and seems like it could maybe be about Lily or at least inspired by her - there’s the car/driving theme from the secondary Rep relationship and Lily does have indigo eyes (they’re way bluer than Joe’s). So maybe she used images and diaries from that period to add to the story about Nashville? But overall this smugness just doesn’t strike me as very gay and in general the song doesn’t seem to be about any one woman in her history. Also “better lock it down or I won’t stick around” is so very hetro and like… untortured.

Paper Rings is not about Karlie but I also don’t think it’s about Lily.

The moon is high

Like your friends were the night that we first met

Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet

Now I've read all of the books beside your bed

The wine is cold

Like the shoulder that I gave you in the street

Cat and mouse for a month or two or three

Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe

This is not about Karlie. We’ve heard repeatedly that they fell in love at first sight so “month or two or three” is kinda wild? Like they full on U-Hauled it with the Big Sur trip and Tay moving to New York and Karlie basically moving into her apartment. They were never cat and mouse? Also Karlie was a supermodel by the time they met one another so “trying to stalk you on the internet” seems a bit of an odd way to phrase it. There would’ve been plenty to find. They both had big reputations. Moreover, they had multiple mutual friends so “your friends” is also an odd turn of phrase. How does this verse fit any aspect of the Kaylor love story?

In the winter, in the icy outdoor pool

When you jumped in first, I went in too

I'm with you even if it makes me blue

Which takes me back

To the color that we painted your brother's wall

Honey, without all the exes, fights, and flaws

We wouldn't be standing here so tall, so

This is also very not Kaylor lol except for the tall part. The chilled out hanging out and swimming and wall painting sounds more like the songs about Tily on Rep.

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want, and

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want

In paper rings in picture frames in dirty dreams

Oh, you're the one I want

This seems like it could be Tily because of the “we went from friends to this” (Kaylor were never friends, and had no intention of being friends, they’ve literally only ever dated). But I’m not sure Tay ever wanted to marry Lily? That’s not what comes across in the other Tily songs.

I want to drive away with you

I want your complications too

I want your dreary Mondays

Wrap your arms around me, baby boy

The driving and the chilledness is similar to the Tily songs but I’m still not sold. It really doesn’t feel particularly authentic.

Also, I know I mostly do lyric analysis but I’d like to include this quote from Tay about the song: “This song talks about true love, and if you really find true love, you probably don't really care what the symbolism of that love is. Material things wouldn't matter to you anymore if you found someone that you just wanted to live your life with.” The quote is distinctly hypothetical. “You probably don’t really care” “wouldn’t” “if you found”....

My gut says this is based around positive romantic relationships she has had but is extrapolated to a rosy conclusion. One day, Tay’s gonna want to marry someone with paper rings. But for now it’s a fictional hypothetical. None of the details fit any of her relationships. It’s made up. That’s why it includes the “baby boy” line... because it’s fiction.

And now for the really hot take… Lover is equally made up, although she was - again - inspired by her real relationships.

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January

This is our place, we make the rules

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

This is continuing the themes from New Year’s Day which always strikes me as a “what if” rather than an actual ode to one of the muses. That final line seems like it could be about Karlie but the absolute calmness with which she sings makes it seem like it’s not about her. The mysterious way is also a brand new image and considering how much she sings about Karlie you would’ve thought we’d have had that image at least once before?

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out and take me home

You're my, my, my, my

Lover

I mean this doesn’t sound like Kaylor. Part of the anxiety there is always about going places together and being seen. It does have bits that seem like Tily to me; “take me out and take me home” kind of reminds me of the “meet me in the back” and “can we always be this close” seems similar to “is it chill that you’re in my head?”

We could let our friends crash in the living room

This is our place, we make the call

And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

The first three lines could be about either Karlie or Lily although I don’t know if Tily had “their place”. Kaylor definitely did.

That last line… is kinda why I think this is mostly fiction. I mean we know it doesn’t make sense for Toe. We know that. And I know about the gymnastics to fit it as a Kaylor song. But the thing is, even if she wrote it around the time that they went away to Wyoming, why wouldn’t she update it when recording it? It literally doesn’t fit the Toe timeline so it can’t be that she wanted it for that. She could’ve made it vague. But no she says “three summers”. Where else have we heard about “three summers”?

September saw a month of tears

And thankin' God that you weren't here

To see me like that

But in a box beneath my bed

Is a letter that you never read

From three summers back

It's hard not to find it all a little bitter sweet

That’s from Tim McGraw.

She just likes that image. It recurs. It’s not about Karlie, and it’s not about Lily, and it’s obviously not about Joe. It’s just a pretty turn of phrase. She loves counting in summers and Cruel Summers and the summer in Betty/august…. It’s not something she associates with one person.

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my

Lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be over-dramatic and true to my

Lover

This whole wedding bit doesn’t make sense for either Kaylor or Tily or Swiftgron. Like she’s constantly questioning Karlie’s commitment to her. And you want me to believe she’s singing vows? Lol no.

And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me

And at every table, I'll save you a seat

Lover

Very cute. Very non-specific. Not about any one partner.

So this supposed ode/serenade to Karlie doesn’t feature any of the images associated with her and doesn’t include any details that actively fit their relationship arc as described elsewhere except for jealousy and possibly love at first sight.

These three peppy love songs - which make up the minority of songs on the album - are about Taylor’s manifestations for the future. ITHK could be about the industry more generally. The other two are describing what she wants and what she pictures as ideal for a relationship.

So conclusions: a large chunk of the songs on Lover aren’t about romance. Many, many are about Karlie. Afterglow could be about Lily and some of the regrets Tay had about the split. Paper Rings, I Think He Knows and Lover aren’t about anyone in particular.

Last thought: I agree that It’s Nice To Have a Friend is about lesbians generally. But also possibly about Karlie, in which case the final verse is Karlie choosing the marriage with Josh and in that case the song is fucking devastating and heartbreaking. But tbh a lot about Kaylor is so it’s no surprise 🤷🏻‍♀️

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As usual, I’m up to discuss this. Do you agree? Disagree? Let’s talk! xx

#tily nation where you at #tily #taylorswift #lyric analysis #lover #taylor swift #gaylor swift #kaylor #lover analysis

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thesolitarystripe · 3 years

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Edna Briggs-Writing Prompt # I’ve Lost Cont

Today's entry was suggested by my best friend, Chenoa. This entire premise was hers and despite my encouragement that she write it; she did not feel like she could. So, I told her I would write it for her. I hope this is what she envisioned, equal parts sad and wholesome.

Enjoy my dearest!

“How long will it be tomorrow, Edna?”

“Sixty-five years.”

“Sixty-five. That’s right…”

The man knew very well how many years it would be that he and his wife would celebrate their marriage. Sixty-five years, tomorrow. Wrinkled hands found more delicate ones, pallid and cool to the touch.

“You still…can’t remember.” There was a weak puff of laughter as Edna turned her head and regarded her husband warmly.

“That’s why I need you here Edna,” at this, the man’s voice cracked with the tightness that formed in his throat. “I’ll never even remember to feed myself.” The pair chuckled softly. Edna patted the top of her husband’s hands.

“Yes, you will Jim.”

That was all she said as she smiled through brimming tears. Edna laid in the comfort of a hospital bed within her own home, in her living room, to be exact. The couple had a large family, and their bedroom was so small that Jim barely fit inside next to both the new and old beds. So, their five children deemed it necessary to move Edna into the main room so that they all could sit beside her—them and their ten grandchildren. It had been two years now that Edna was on hospice and an amazing feat considering the doctors thought she would pass on within the first six months. Edna clung to life the way she held fast to Jim’s hand, with nothing but love and enthusiasm. It was noticeable now, perhaps only to Jim, that Edna’s fingers did not grab hold so hard. In the slipping of her fingers, he felt the waning of her soul and it brought his head down upon her chest as she breathed in and out. So long as he could hear that thrum of her heart, he would know peace. Into the early morning hours, they whispered between them of all life had brought. They shared tender kisses and caresses that Jim desperately fought to commit to memory. Each tickle of her fingers at the back of his neck was etched into his bones and stored away in every fiber of his muscles. Jim would not forget. Somehow, Jim fell asleep. A grown man of ninety-five laid on his wife’s chest, back hunched forward and his arms draped over her; one behind her head and the other over her thighs. Jim fell asleep. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the look of absolute tranquility upon Edna’s beautiful features. Without moving, speaking, or thinking, Jim knew. Edna was no longer on this plane but, she had made it to midnight. They celebrated their sixty-fifth anniversary in the darkness of their living room.

The days that passed next were a blur. Perhaps one day, Jim would come to and the memories of Edna’s memorial service, her funeral, the crowds of people that came to honor her memory; maybe he would recall it. Today, he sat silently in his living room, the vacant hospital bed beside him. A few of his children were bustling in the kitchen, cooking, and making sure Jim had easy options for food because the man was proficient with a grill and that was about it.

“Papa, we cut up some fresh fruit it’s in the fridge. Make sure you eat it up, so it doesn’t go bad.” Jim’s oldest granddaughter was talking to him, but Jim was in his cushioned armchair, staring out the sliding glass door that led to their patio. All of Edna’s flowers popped vibrantly against the emerald hues of their meticulously watered grass. Jim wondered if it would all die within a few short hours once the little garden realized its tender was gone. That was good, appropriate, even. The flowers should no longer grow if Edna did not keep them; just as the sun should not rise or fall so long as Edna’s chest was still. Jim looked up at the blinding rays of the celestial body. It seemed he had not yet convinced the star to cease its normal cycle because how could life possibly go on without Edna Briggs. How, could it.

Eventually, Jim’s children and grandchildren left. He was sure it was not an easy choice for them. While he was absentminded and aloof, it did not go unnoticed the way they lingered in the doorway or how they looked at him with concern in their eyes. Jim waved them off with a brave little smile. Then they were gone, and the house was horribly quiet. There was no talk of the gossip at Bingo, no asking what time ‘Jeopardy’ would be on even though it came on every night at the same time; there was a lingering aroma of food, but it was not Edna’s cooking. Jim sat in his armchair. Jim stewed in the silence and looked out the back door until the light dissolved and nighttime fell. This was how he passed most of his days for a week. People called; he did not answer. The only communication he managed was a short text asking his children not to come—he needed time. Jim ate halfheartedly but per his granddaughter’s wishes, he did not let the fruit go bad. She had worked so hard, after all. It was on the sixth night that Jim finally turned on the television. There had been no sound for so long that it almost felt like an intrusion to hear the people in the commercials talking. He left it on and eventually, he fell asleep in his chair with one hand resting on the end of the hospital bed. That was how they had gone to bed many times over the last two years.

Jim was snoring for several hours when a sound finally woke him from his dreamless stasis. It was not the incessant dinging of bells on whatever game show had just come on—he had slept through that many times. There was a clink in the kitchen. Jim and Edna had no pets and had lived alone for a number of years after their children grew up. In Jim’s mind, there was no reason for any part of their home to be making noise unless someone else was in it. As that thought occurred to him, Jim grew very still, eyes wide open and desperately peering through the darkness. Jim had never felt scared but as he sat, totally alone, he felt that sick heat creep into his belly and spread like fire through his veins. The man was paralyzed in his chair, sinking deeper and deeper each time he heard that clinking noise. It was different and seemed to be moving around the kitchen. There was a certain tone of the porcelain in the sink when it was hit; it was very different from the sound that was produced when the marble countertops were bumped or the wooden cabinets. From what he could hear, it sounded like someone was cooking a full meal inside his kitchen. Jim’s jaw clenched. This was silly. The man, finding all the courage of his younger years rolled to his feet and turned to look back. The kitchen was in full view from the living room, there were no walls separating the adjoined spaces. So, when he looked, there was no mistaking what he saw. There was nothing to block him and his glasses were poised on the bridge of his long nose. Jim’s jaw went slack, and he was certain he was either dead or on his way to the grave.

“Edna, what in the hell are you doing?” The little old lady looked exactly the way Jim had last seen her save for the color in her cheeks. That ever-present vibrancy that Edna had when she was alive, her youthful glow, it had returned with a new fullness.

“Well excuse me, Jim, I’m making your late-night snack like I always do. I am more than happy to stop if you’re going to take that attitude with me.” Jim stared. Jim stared for a long time, so long that Edna rolled her eyes. “Tuna fish and saltine crackers, it’s your favorite.” A small plate plopped onto the counter and slid toward Jim. The man looked down for a moment but immediately brought his gaze back to Edna for fear she might vanish.

“Honey, I don’t know how to tell you this but—”

“I’m dead! I know that Jim, I’m not stupid. Someone’s got to come along and take care of you. You said it yourself a week ago, you’ll forget to eat. Then what? Then I have to spend eternity with you too?” Edna smiled after that. It was full of knowingness and patience because she was, indeed, fully aware of her circumstances.

“The—the…the grandkids…they left some food—Edna! How…” Jim was taking cautious steps forward and he found himself vaguely wondering if there was some sort of technology, he wasn’t aware of that could project life-like images of loved ones into your home. Was this some sort of invention created for coping with loss? Jim’s brown eyes did a quick scan of the kitchen. He saw no indication of a projector. There was nothing out of place in his old kitchen, except for a perfectly intact Edna standing in the middle of it.

“Simple. I didn’t want to leave,” Edna shrugged and gave the plate another inch toward Jim. The man had approached and was well within range of the plate now. He looked at Edna incredulously before he swooped in and wrapped his arms around her. She was whole and smelled like his favorite perfume; she had worn it every day since they had met. Jim wasn’t fully aware of it, but he was weeping. Into the meticulously done curls that framed Edna’s head and neck. That familiar tickle of her fingers at the nape of his neck only made him cry harder because his memory had failed him. In the short time away from his wife, Jim had already forgotten what the scrape of her nails felt like on his skin. Edna embraced her husband in the kitchen, endlessly. Only when he was ready to lift his head did she take a small step back and smile up at him. “They really should change that whole ‘till death do us part' bit. It doesn’t have to end there, not if you don’t want it to.” Jim laughed. For the first time in a week, he was smiling, and it felt like rust was crumbling off all the unused facial muscles.

“Well…what do we do?”

“What do we do? Jim I’m going to sit down and watch my shows, it’s only ten-thirty. Now eat!” Jim was given the plate of crackers. He tested its weight; he poked the bottom of it to see if his finger would go through. It didn’t. Finally, he ate a cracker with a scoop of Edna’s infamous tuna salad, and it tasted like home. Jim was not sure if he was crazy or if the Lord had bestowed a miraculous blessing upon him but, he would not question the extra time. Quickly, he shuffled after Edna who was crawling into the hospital bed already glued to the television. Jim sat in his armchair munching and constantly glancing over at Edna to make sure she didn’t get swept away into the ethers.

This was how life went on. Learning the extent of Edna’s abilities happened quickly. Jim soon learned that his children nor his grands could see her despite her standing in the foyer to greet them alongside her husband. No one else saw Edna. She did, one time, touch a dishrag without thinking and when it moved on its own their eldest son yelped and jumped away from it. Jim quickly offered up that it was simply the wind from the open window in the kitchen. Luckily, that was all it took to convince his son that there were no ghosts in the house. All the while, Jim looked at Edna who had her little hand over her mouth, giggling. Edna got to enjoy her family from a distance, something that both made her happy and hurt her. Jim could see the longing in her eyes as Edna sank to the floor to sit by their grandchildren who played, oblivious that grandma was right beside them. There was much that Jim found cruel about Edna’s current existence. While she cooked and cleaned and took care of Jim as well as she had in her living days—she could not enjoy the material things of the mortal world. Edna could watch television, listen to music, and sit beside Jim while holding his hand. She did not get to taste food or hug her kids; she did not have the luxury of soothing her grandbabies or walking outside. Edna had tried to leave the house multiple times, only to tend to her garden but every door in the home seemed to be a wall. Edna could not leave. The pair existed within the living room and kitchen. Eating and watching television. This was their new routine. Edna did not sleep; she didn’t need to. She would stay up and watch Jim, hold his hand, pet his hair; anything to keep her busy through the hours he was not conscious of her. As the months passed, Jim watched these realities affect her though Edna never complained.

One evening, the couple sat watching another ‘Jeopardy’ rerun. They chuckled a little here and there. Edna had made Jim a small platter of cut up meat, cheese, and crackers. She was always feeding him much to his family’s approval—they had predicted Jim would lose weight in the following months after Edna’s passing. They had no idea she still wandered through the home.

“Edna.”

“Yes, dear?”

“How long are you going to stay?”

“That’s a funny question. Funny, because the answer is obvious, isn’t it?” Jim looked at her with a blank expression. “I’m staying until it’s your time.”

“Do you know when that is?”

“No. That’s none of my business, even as a ghost.”

“It could be years.”

“It could be.”

“My grandfather and my father lived past one hundred.”

“Yes, yes, you have good genes. I know.” Edna said it with an air of annoyance like they had this discussion many times over when she was alive.

“My point is, you could be doing this for five more years if not more.”

“You could also die tomorrow,” she quipped.

“Are you going to live every day hoping I die tomorrow?” At this, Edna laughed and shook her head.

“No. Of course not Jim, I want you to enjoy every second of life. Watch the babies grow, watch our bigger babies grow even more. Feel the sun on your face. Tend to my flowers. Eat good food.”

“And what about you?” Jim was very serious, and the tone of his voice had changed from amiable and inquisitive to firm.

“What about me?”

“I suppose you think it’s fine for you to keep on living in this undead existence. Where you get to experience none of the pleasures you just listed off for me.”

“I get to be with my husband. That is the greatest pleasure.”

“Is it, Edna? I see how much you want to hold those grandbabies. The look on your face while I’m eating something you’ve made but you can’t even taste it. Is this really existing at all?” Edna looked at Jim. There was a long discussion had between them, without words. Jim’s eyes were glossy in the way that spoke of tears unarrived but waiting in the trenches. The line of his mouth was hard set and that horrible lump in his throat was thicker than before. It had taken him months to realize it; to see the selfishness of what he did. Jim kept Edna here. It was a blatant fact. No one else could see her, they had accepted her death and let her spirit soar free. Jim did not. Jim carried the burden of damning his wife to this listless life as a specter when she was deserving of so much more. “Edna, you have done what you needed to in this life, tenfold. You raised a beautiful family, we did, together but we both know who did most of the work. I am not blind to that. You have been an excellent grandmother to those babies, and they will grow up to know unconditional love and how to bake the best pies for Christmas. You took care of me, God, you still are! Even in death. This is not your eternal rest, Edna. This is not the peace you have earned after such a full life. It was full, wasn’t it?”

Edna sat on the edge of the hospital bed, legs dangling, hands folded in her lap as she faced Jim. Tears streamed down her face. The weight of this new existence was taxing and harder than she imagined. Participating in life from the sidelines. Watching but not doing. Living but not living at all. “It was very full, Jim. The best life I could have ever wanted and then some.” Edna’s petite shoulders shook with sobs and Jim rose and sat beside her on the bed; he encircled her in his arms and pressed his face against her neck.

“I love you Edna Briggs, but this is not the existence you were meant to have. It is time for me to let you go,” he whispered. Jim breathed in as deeply as he could. Memorizing every dip and curve of her body as if he had not already done that over the last sixty-five years. The smell of her perfume. The smoothness of her skin. The sound of her breath as she wept. These were all important pieces of information, things he would store away and remember on days when he missed her. Every day. Jim would remember it every day. Jim and Edna wept together, just as they had the night she passed. They squeezed one another and eventually fell back on the bed. Jim felt sleep tugging at his eyelids, and he knew, deep in his gut, when he woke tomorrow Edna would be gone. “I promise, I’ll see you soon. I love you so much. You have been the most amazing wife a man could ever ask for.” Jim’s hands were in those bouncy curls, fingers wrapped around Edna’s skull as he touched their foreheads together. “I won’t last long without my other half, but I’ll make sure the grandbabies are skilled pie bakers before I go.” They laughed. The room was quiet except for their sniffling. “It’s okay to go, I love you.” Edna kissed her husband’s face, his forehead, and lips. Edna fell asleep. Finally. She had not realized just how tired her soul was until her eyes closed and she drifted off into the most peaceful slumber within her husband’s arms.

When Jim woke the next morning, he was alone, as expected. Despite the hole he felt in half of his heart, Jim smiled. Edna was finally at peace and that alone brought him more joy than anything else.

#creative writing #OC #writing prompt #My writing #thesolitarystripe #romance #wholesome #writing #tw death #tw natural death #writers on tumblr

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illusionlockarchive · 4 years

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romeos huge rant on comedy, horror, and how they interlap

ok, so. full disclosure, what got me to make this post was this joke post right here.

so the initial premise is funny, haha okay. yeah. oh youre a kid and your punishment at school is that you have to stay at a room full of wasps. its funny because its absurd. it couldnt happen irl. youd think it wouldnt happen irl. youd hope so.

the thing about comedy and horror though? is that they actually operate on very similar concepts.

and that is, the absurd. the uncanny valley. what youre expecting the least. what youre not seeing and not registering. jumpscares are effective if at least to get you to jump, even if they are cheap. meanwhile, jokes where they completely twist your expectations to get you to laugh do the same thing.

it may be hard for you to believe me, but in the end, the bad ending of tattletail is the other side of the same coin as a joke that goes “i swallowed a tablet with some water. everyone on the apple store was terrified of me.”

i have not read the wasp story, but i can guaranteee you, i CAN imagine it being scary, if the right tones are used and suspense is built up nicely. with the right twists and turns, knowing when to keep things quiet and when to blow things out of proportion.

OR it can end up being unintentionally hilarious, if the characters in it are way too cliche to be real and feel more like caricatures of teachers and students, if things are rushed and details lose their meaning and value, if we are just to focus on being an audience watching a kid get chased around by a swarm of wasps, instead of putting ourselves in their place.

im neglecting to mention something though. horror is not the TRUE other side of the coin to comedy. no, thats tragedy. and im sure many more people have heard of that. the two masks used in theater, one happy, the other sad.

and now we come to two very interesting modifiers. im sure youve heard of the term ‘horror comedy’ to refer to a subgenre of horror that does have jokes and silly things still happening, and may not take itself all that seriously. but why is it a specified subgenre? because MOST horror is tragedy.

this is why, despite liking many horror games or even stories, in the end i still dont consider myself someone who actually likes horror as a general genre. most horror focuses on the seriousness of the faults of humans, on our fragility, on all we can lose or are even bound to lose, on the fear that what we feel so confident about having close to us can be snatched away in a second, that our sense of reality can crumble. most horror? doesnt end well.

comedies in general tend to focus on the absurdity of life, on how many silly, strange, or even uncanny situations can happen that can challenge us, but not in a harsh way, but in a way that, despite so many bad things happening, we still get to point and laugh it off and be okay at the end of the day.

literally, all it takes for a tragedy to become a comedy, and vice versa, is a tonal shift. when i told of my idea to create this post to my boyfriend, he backed me up, and told me “the difference between horror and comedy is in the soundtrack and silly sound effects”. hes right.

of course, there are things that you should have the decency to not laugh at, still. to keep your mouth shut and know when to reject. but good comedy knows how to stray away from that, and good tragedy knows how to handle it respectfully without making it torture porn.

so, as horror hinges on tragedy, on the fear that we all know we must face in our lives, because a scream is as natural as laughter, so horror comedies are born as an interesting paradox.

a year or so ago, i got the opportunity to watch the banana splits syfy movie. i was a huge fan of the banana splits as a kid, and would often watch their reruns. those silly furries meant a lot to me. but im not stupid, i know thats a horror movie, i went in kinda knowing what to expect.

it was a gore fest, and for about two or three nights i had trouble getting to sleep. i wasnt actually scared of my childhood friends in animal costumes, as i knew how absurd and irrational my fear was, but just the images of the massacre being fresh in my mind were enough to send me into a panic if i lingered for too long, which can happen, you know, when youre about to sleep.

(TW FOR DESCRIPTION OF A MANS DEATH AND GORE, IF YOURE SQUEAMISH JUMP TO NEXT PARAGRAPH)

i think a scene that perfectly blurs the lines between comedy and tragedy, as well as just plain horror in it, is the scene where a man gets killed by being put in a magicians box and sliced in half as a ‘magic trick’ by fleegle, the dog. as he pleads for his life, and his soon to be wife watches in horror and pleads for the robot dog to stop (yeah theyre robots in this, weird), fleegle continues to slice him in half and blood spurts out, until he is dead, and fleegle just happily and proudly showcases what he has done, as if he just did a real magic trick.

(END TW FOR DEATH AND GORE DESCRIPTION)

watching that was horrifying, of course it was. but at the same time, it was what i wanted and expected when i thought about “banana splits horror movie”. fleegle just did something completely absurd and entirely uncalled for. and what doubles the uncaniness of it is that it was supposed to be something harmless, a magic trick. think about this if it was in an adult swim cartoon. the same thing could still happen, but be treated as just a weird, gross joke. fleegle could even swear, say ‘heres your fucking magic trick damnit! oh you dont like it, well i quit!’ n then throw his hat on the ground and step on it.

they are essentially the same scene, but the cartoon version of it is presented in a way that shows full on just how absurd and unexpected it is, without any seriousness to it, probably without any moody music to accompany it. meanwhile the movie one focuses on the fear, grief, and horror of putting us in the shoes of a woman who just watched the man she loved be killed, with the shots being extra impactful.

in the end, the banana splits syfy movie is a horror comedy though, because most of the movie is spent finding the most creative, absurd, borderline funny ways for people to be killed off. as you watch it along, you dont know whether to laugh at the weirdness and absurdity of the events or to genuinely feel grief and fear over the bodies piling up.

i could also just go over a million other examples available to me right now. in fact, as of the time im writing this, i have the latest vinesauce corruption stream pulled on youtube. during corruptions, the most bizarre and absurd things happen, and often times, things get scary. we see the video game characters we love be deformed and twisted in ways that you can only imagine hurt, but they still act as if thats normal! so you cant help but laugh.

earlier today, i watched a gameplay video of bonbon. its a short horror game, with a very... different antagonist. i wont spoil much, because, i dont want to deter people from buying it. but i will say, there is a reveal at the end, which slaps you in the face with the realization that you have been played for a fool all along, and the developers would probably laughing at you if they saw you after youve beat the game. its a joke, and the fear that they cultivated so lovingly, is the punchline. your fear becomes a punchline. to me thats one of the highest forms of blurring horror and comedy, and one i prefer to some more gory and harsh attempts.

and i mean, i have to mention fnaf here, dont i? its a great example too, particularly because, if you look at the games by themselves, they generally take themselves pretty seriously as horror stories, minus a few odd cases or references. but they just have enough wiggle room that, if you look at them from afar, as an audience, you can take these characters youre supposed to be afraid of, and have fun with them, because it is pretty damn absurd, and even funny at the end of the day, that youre expected to be afraid of essentially big, robotic childrens toys. and thats when many fun, fan renditions that focus on lighthearted situations pop up. vanny herself is pretty funny even! the idea of a person who dresses up in a full fursuit to do crimes is pretty hilarious.

all in all, i think i just really appreciate how horror and comedy can converse with each other and how that says something about how we, as humans, are easily made impressed, made to be surprised and shocked, to jump or to laugh. and we are always looking for that thrill, it just depends on if youre looking for laughs or screams.

so yeah, maybe ‘wasp room’ can be a pretty good story. is it a horror story or a comedy? we wont know until we read it. (also if you made it to the end reading this holy shit i love you , i fully recognize i talked way too much)

#don't be scared. i am here with you.

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alecmagnuslwb · 4 years

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Living to Survive

Writer’s Month 2020 Day Twenty-One

Read on AO3

When you’ve successfully and significantly cheated death three times, or is it four now she can’t even remember, reacclimating to life as it was before isn’t easy.

Dorothea Rollins has become an expert at it though. She’s survived the Circle, Valentine and his little demon spawn son and come back from it each time with a renewed sense of survival flowing through her veins. She’s become a survivor in the truest sense of the word just living to survive.

As strong as she is though she needs support. Her community pulls through, most specifically and especially Catarina Loss.

They’ve known each other for years frequently finding themselves in the same cities over the centuries and spending quite a bit of time together during her and Magnus’ brief relationship, but they’ve never been exceedingly close. They’ve been acquaintances, colleagues even at best.

All that changes after her face to face showdown with Jonathan, Sebastian whatever he calls himself. She survives staying behind to protect Clary and Jace, but just barely immediately going into hiding so the little crispy bastard son of Valentine doesn’t try to track her down and finish the job.

She runs first to the old bookstore Eliot Nourse once owned simply to breathe and heal her wounds with any potions still floating around in the abandoned shop. She knows she can’t stay long though sooner or later someone will buy the place and she’ll have to vacate the premises and as much as she’d like to do this alone, to just wash her hands of everything she knows that’s not realistic.

She considers going to Magnus first, but everything has been tense between them since her aborted drunken attempt to kiss him that frankly had left her more embarrassed than anything else. Mix that tenseness with the fact that she knows Magnus will no doubt be tangled up in the fight against Jonathan because of his earth-shattering love for Alec and his constant dedication to his people rules him out.

She thinks of other friends, either gone or too far away to bother and then she thinks of Catarina. When she knocks on her door she’s not sure what to expect, the little girl, Madzie, that had called her pretty when she’d been drained of every bit of her life force is certainly not it.

She stares up at her with wide eyes a shy smile on her face as she hides half behind the door until Catarina steps up behind her.

“Madz what did I tell you about just answering the door,” she says before looking up and spotting Dot. She gives her a sad smile before opening the door wide. “Come on in.”

She lets her in her home and not just for a meal and a place to sleep for the night, but indefinitely. Catarina gets swept up in the fight eventually but only when her help is requested expressly and exclusively from Magnus or Alec. She leaves Dot out of it though every time, doesn’t even mention that she’s staying there or that she’s alive just as Dot had requested.

Madzie even keeps quiet, choosing to think of it like a game, never even mentioning Dot’s existence to Magnus or Alec who she loves whispering little secrets to. Dot hears the stories of everything going on outside, Valentine dies a bloody deserved death, Lilith goes topside, Clary goes missing, Magnus loses his magic, gets it back, goes to Edom, Alec decides Jonathan’s apocalypse can wait in favor of saving Magnus and Dot finds herself respecting him more and more every day.

Catarina is her lifeline, her constant through all this. The two growing closer than ever before in a few months’ time. Madzie becomes her little co-conspirator brightening her days when nothing else seems to be able to.

Then, Jonathan dies and for a moment the world outside is a little safer, a little brighter.

But Dot isn’t ready to go back out in yet. Catarina tries with all her might to get Dot to go to the wedding with her, but she turns her down. She plays it off as not wanting to steal any spotlight making a big ‘guess what I’m not dead!’ reveal to everyone and the fact that nobody wants to go to an exes wedding.

And while those things are both true, the truer sense is she’s just not ready to be back in the swing of things yet.

Months pass and she finds herself easing a little bit more every day all thanks to Cat and Madzie. It’s baby steps of course, trips to the park and for dinner at the little Vietnamese restaurant around the corner every Tuesday, but eventually it’s bigger things.

Catarina makes her feel safe, Madzie makes her smile and she starts thinking about living again, really living.

Soon enough she is. She reunites with friends including a memory returned Clary. The pair finding a closeness they never really had before growing now that they’ve both survived some pretty horrendous things.

She finds comfort in new bonds, finally letting go of her past feelings for Magnus and getting to know Alec, who’s actually pretty great. But none of it compares to what she feels with Cat and Madzie, she can’t imagine life without them now.

It’s been over a year when she realizes just what that means. Cat is motoring around the kitchen juggling making breakfast for Madzie, organizing a sleepover weekend with Magnus and Alec and writing down her shifts for the next two weeks on the calendar on the fridge simultaneously, refusing Dot’s offered helped when she asks. So Dot just watches her, Madzie sitting to her side coloring and that’s when it hits her.

She loves her. She loves them. In such a short time they’ve become her family, the first real family she thinks she’s ever had.

It’s surprises her, even though it really shouldn’t and when Madzie nudges her and slides the picture she’s been coloring over it all settles into place in her heart easily. It’s Madzie standing on Alec’s shoulders with Magnus holding his hand, Catarina reaching up holding her hand and next to Cat is Dot clasping hands with Cat’s free one. It says all their names at the top Uncle Magnus, Uncle Alec, Mommy, Madzie and Dot-Dot, as she’s grown to calling her and underneath it all the word family is written in bright rainbow colors.

She smiles and Madzie just carrying on like she hasn’t just made Dot’s day, week, life maybe even.

It’s three nights later while sitting on the couch kicking back with virgin margaritas, Madzie off to her uncles for the weekend, when Dot finally decides to make a move after her stark revelation the other morning. When her lips meet Cat’s and Cat eagerly responds it feels like coming home, feels like for the first time since the day Clary turned eighteen she’s not just surviving, she’s living.

“I didn’t want to rush you, but damn it’s about time,” Catarina chuckles when they finally pull back.

Dot laughs, pure joy and just leans right back in.

#my fic #writersmonth2020 #catarina x dot #dotarina #catarina loss #dorothea rollins #shadowhunters

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