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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

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Book of Soulmates

pairing: Hobi x reader

premise: 1071 5th Ave, New York, NY 10128 is all you need to know.

Fire Starter

Endless circles carry me ever upward. I’ve begun to notice the slight burn in my calves as I continue to climb up the endless circular ramp, a famous aspect of the Guggenheim.

Famous or not, it still has me contemplating just slipping my heels off and making the rest of the trek up to the top of the building barefoot.

Of course I refuse to take the elevator despite the rest of my group having done so. I mean, this is the Guggenheim. Who takes the elevator and misses all of the beautiful artwork and displays along the way? Not me.

I pause for a moment before a massive painting that takes up most of the wall, pretending that I’m entranced by it rather than in desperate need of a break. In my defense, I wasn’t planning on having to leave the bottom floor so soon. However, when it was cleared for some exclusive party to come through, I wasn’t left with much of a choice.

Echoes of the party going on downstairs remind me that I need to keep moving upward. No doubt my group has already made it to the top floor and are impatiently waiting for me. Maybe if I’m lucky they’ll just go on without me, leaving me to enjoy the famous art museum on my own.

Peeking down a hallway as I pass by it I’m drawn in by the display I see on the floor. Deciding to spare another moment, I sneak inside, eyes wide as I take in the display taking up on side of the floor. Glancing at the plaque beside it, I marvel at Abbas Akhavan’s artwork. The bronze casts made to represent damaged and changed plants as the affects of war are spread out along the way, making me take my time as I walk from one end to another.

“I don’t know, he just said something about wanting to find Van Gogh and ran up here,” a voice says from the ramp just outside the room where I find myself currently. It’s silent for a moment, and I realize that he must be on the phone.

“Yeah, I’ll bring him back down. Just give me a few minutes to find him. Ok. Bye.” The end of the phone conversation is punctuated by a long sigh, accompanied by a disbelieving chuckle. “That boy...oh. Hi.”

I turn to find a man - no. Not just some man. Jung Hoseok peers into the exhibit room, glancing around as though looking for someone.

So that’s why the bottom floor has been reserved. BTS is here.

“Hi.” I reply rather dumbly. Shaking my head, I fight to not stare too hard at him. He’s wearing a red jacket that looks like it was crafted just for him, flowers and other plants embroidered into the fabric with loving care. Paired with his ripped black jeans, Hoseok looks like he just stepped out of a photoshoot.

“Are you looking for someone?” I ask, trying to get him to move on before I make a complete fool of myself.

“Oh,” Hoseok repeats for the second time, eyes finally landing on me for longer than a couple of seconds. “You speak Korean?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.”

I can’t help but laugh a little. “You’re looking for someone? I haven’t seen anyone come up this way.”

“Oh,” Hoseok, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s just repeated the same word four times, steps into the exhibit with a soft smile. “My friend - Kim Taehyung, do you know who that is?”

I nod. “Yeah, I do.”

“Right. We’re supposed to be doing some stuff downstairs but he took off saying that he wanted to go see Van Gogh, and now we can’t find him.”

Chewing on my lip, I frown a little. “But Van Gogh is downstairs...?”

At that precise moment Hoseok’s phone lights up, and he gives me an apologetic smile and half bow before turning and answering it. The call doesn’t last long - he’s only taken two steps before he’s turning right back around with a perfect smile on his face.

“Well,” he sighs out, wandering closer, “He was downstairs. He just showed up again, I guess. Thanks for the help.”

“Of course.” Giving him a small smile, I turn back to the artwork before me, expecting him to step out.

From my peripheral I can tell that he’s thinking about it, but he hesitates for a moment. Glancing my way, Hoseok takes another step in my direction. My heart clenches in my chest, but I refuse to look at him.

Sometimes, being painfully awkward is a bit of a crutch.

“Excuse me,” he says softly, almost as though we were in a crowded room and he was trying not to startle me. “But have we met before?”

Now I do look at him, incredulity lining my features. “...don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I’d remember meeting you.”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, you’re right. That was kind of strange for me to ask that, wasn’t it? It’s just...” he pauses, then extends his hand out toward me. “I think that was my stupid way of trying to stall and get to know you before I have to leave.”

My jaw is probably on the ground now, and I continue to stare at the man with disbelief until I realize that his hand is still outstretched.

“Oh!” I almost shout. “Sorry. Yeah. It’s nice to meet you.”

I go to shake his hand, smiling a little at how he’s trying to respect my culture despite the obvious differences. Daring to glance up at his eyes, my breath gets caught in my throat as I see him doing the same.

What I identify as warmth in his eyes may also be due to the sparks flying from our joined hands.

“Oh!” Hoseok shouts, jumping back as sparks fly and singe our hands. “I - ah! Fire!”

I jump out of my shocked state just in time to see what Hoseok - my soulmate - is referring to. A few loose sparks that didn’t succeed in burning and marking our hands have floated down to the ground and also the white tarp where Abbas Arkhavan’s artwork is set up.

It’s also in the process of catching fire.

“Ah!” I shout now with Hoseok, and I rush about the room. “Fire extinguisher!” I shout, only making my soulmate more distressed when he realizes that I’m shouting in English.

“What?” He shouts unnecessarily. “What are you saying?!”

“Fire!” I shout again, heart pounding as adrenaline pumps through my veins. “Where’s the extinguisher?!” Tearing around the corner, I gasp in relief as the tell-tale red fire extinguisher hangs on the wall. Running as quickly as I can in my heels, I mentally curse my past self of fifteen minutes ago for not taking off my heels when I had the chance.

Hoseok notices my predicament, rushing over to me and letting me hand the extinguisher off to him. I hobble after him, finally managing to slip my heels off.

I watch with horror as the priceless artwork is covered with the white foamy substance of the extinguisher, offering up a pleading prayer that only the tarp was damaged.

Hoseok sprays every last inch of the tarp, panting when he finally relents. For a moment, all is silent in the aftermath of our soulmate bond. Glancing around the room I search for any other fires that our sparks may have caused, and let out a long sigh when it appears that the damage was at least kept to one small space.

Still standing before the display with the extinguisher in hand, I slowly make my way over to Hoseok and come to stand beside him.

His eyes are a bit glazed over as he stares at the wall that’s blank except for Abbas’s plaque. His chest rises and falls with his deep breaths, his face a little flushed.

Slowly, so slowly, Hoseok turns to look at me, disbelief obvious in his expression. “Did we just-”

“Start a fire?”

“Yeah.”

Looking down at the receding foam, a dry laugh escapes my throat. “I think we did.”

“Because we...we’re...”

“Yep.” My gaze is a little unfocused as I ease the extinguisher out of Hoseok’s grasp, the two of us wincing as our fingers graze each other and a few spare sparks shoot out, falling onto the foam and sizzling as they’re extinguished.

Turning on my heel, I go to put the extinguisher back and attempt to find the curator to explain this entire mess.

Hoseok trails after me, looking a little lost as he furrows his brow, still trying to understand what just occurred. My heart aches as he passes by my discarded heels, leaning down to pick them up and carry them along. Without a single word, he already has me swooning at his sweetness.

I pause at the sight of my right hand as I raise it to put the extinguisher back. My hand is littered with angry red welts from the sparks of our encounter. It’s a sight that I thought I’d never see.

Soon enough those red welts will fade into darker, lasting little scars. I’ve seen them a million times on other people.

The soulmate scars. As telling as any wedding ring, and even more permanent.

Hoseok appears by my side, seeing what I’m staring at. With heartbreaking tenderness, he raises his burned hand to mine, laying it on top. There’s a bit of residual warmth that kicks up at the contact, but no more sparks fly.

The sentimental moment is quite literally burned into my memory as I stare at our hands, hardly daring to believe that this is real. The moment is ruined as my guilty conscience takes over.

“We need to find the curator,” I mumble out. “Tell him what happened.”

Hoseok grunts in agreement, intertwining our hands before pulling me along with him, heading down the ramp. I frown up at him.

“What?” He asks, his eyes still a bit glazed over but the ghost of a smile on his face.

“Where are we going? The office is the other way.”

“Oh,” Hoseok says for the umpteenth time. “He’s downstairs...I’m supposed to be down there having a meeting with him.”

Eyes going wide and a groan leaving my mouth, Hoseok laughs at our predicament. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I whine. He shakes his head, eyes cleaning up a bit.

“I wish I was, darling.” My ears perk up at the pet name. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t kick you out, though. You’re with me.”

Squeezing his hand a little tighter, I allow a smile to break through.

masterlist

#jhope #jhope fluff #jhope soulmate au #bts soulmate au #bts first touch au #hobi #hoseok #bts fluff #hobi fluff #hope fluff #so cute #bts cute #bts soulmate #bts meet cute #jhope meet cute #meet cute #meetcute

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regrettablewritings · 4 years ago

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Preference: Surviving the Holidays

Characters: Dewey Finn, Peter B. Parker, Tadashi Hamada, Bruce Wayne

Dewey Finn: Thanksgiving

Dewey’s relationship with Thanksgiving was wack, for lack of a better word. Really that could be said for his relationship with most holidays, but what made Thanksgiving stand out ever so slightly was just how obsessively tied to gatherings with loved ones it was when compared to other holidays: You could party for Christmas; you could party for New Years; you couldn’t really party for Thanksgiving. And given that most of his time growing up was just himself and his ma . . .Yeah, the guy wasn’t too crazy about what he considered to be a sham of a holiday. (Plus, he didn’t vibe with the parade.)

And none of that lessened as he got older, with his relationship with his mother becoming more and more strained. After a while, the most he really got from the holiday was tagging along accompanying Ned to his own family’s place. But once Patty came along, that window of opportunity closed.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t long for it. Quite the contrary, it had become sour grapes for Dewey: He could gripe and sneer about Thanksgiving being a “boring-ass” wannabe day all he wanted to; the truth simply was that deep down, he knew he wouldn’t really mind the idea of being in the presence of somebody who loved and appreciated him enough to share a meal with him. Or to be thankful that he was in their lives and wanted him to know it.

That, and he missed the option of not having to stay cooped up in the apartment he mooched off in, eating Kraft Mac straight out the pot while imagining others elsewhere eating homemade baked macaroni as a side to a much more delicious and filling meal.

You personally didn’t feel especially impassioned by the day one way or another to be frank. At least, not usually. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you -- maybe it was because the two of you had just moved in together and wanted to make a statement, or maybe the spirit of the season had finally possessed the both of you, or maybe it was because the delirium of moving in two weeks before a holiday had finally taken its hold (moving is statistically one of the most stressful events in a person’s life, after all) -- but there was a newfound determination in trying to “get this right.”

Of course, there’s nothing and no one who says that a house only becomes a home once it has been christened by a successful feast. But there was a sense of maturity that did come with the idea of holding down even a dinner for two that wasn’t picked up from the deli down the street, or delivered by some knock-kneed cyclist. And it was a maturity the both of you were far too eager to acquire.

Never mind the fact that most of your kitchenware was still lost amongst the boxes (what few of them you could fit in the glorified Fruit-By-the-Foot box you called an apartment). Or that you guys were on a budget. Or that the dinner table was an old plastic collapsible one reminiscent of the tables put up at parties held in gymnasiums. You two were adults, goddammit, and you were going to pull this off at least once! Just once, and things would go back to normal.

. . .

Like most things that tended to involve the great Dewey Finn, you had no idea how this happened.

There was no turkey, no green beans or corn on the cob or even mashed potatoes or a pumpkin pie. Instead, what cluttered the table was a plate of Bagel Bites, tater tots, a plastic case of Lofthouse cookies, and, of course, some Kraft Mac. Neither one of you said anything. At least, not out loud. But the sheepish expressions you gave one another said everything.

Time had gotten away from you both. As did proper ingredients to prepare the more traditional meals associated with the day. You supposed that, in a panicked haze, the both of you wound up grabbing and putting together whatever you could to salvage your pride efforts but you began to suspect that that might not’ve been enough.

“. . . At least we beat Snoopy’s meal,” Dewey tried. A beat passed. Then a snort.

“S-shut up!” you cried. How dare he criticize an animated beagle’s meal of popcorn and toast? Though you had to admit, he had a point: You’d take pizza-decorated bagelettes over popcorn any day -- including Thanksgiving Day, apparently.

In the end, it wasn’t the most . . . traditional situation. And it certainly wasn’t enough to change Dewey’s mind about the day. But you both had to agree: It was a feast that certainly christened your new home together as your own. And for that, you were quite thankful.

Peter B. Parker: Hanukkah

While it wasn’t the most important holiday on the Jewish calendar, Hanukkah still held a heavy level of importance in Peter’s heart. Growing up, it had served as a foundation for so many things in his life: In certain traditions, stability was established; in the togetherness it garnered, there was love; and in the activities partaken, there were memories. Memories of helping Aunt May in the kitchen and of Uncle Ben determining him to be old enough to recite the proper prayers. Of lighting the menorah and setting the room aglow with the history of a miracle . . .

It was therefore a huge regret of Peter’s when he had foregone observing both the winter holiday, as well as many others in his culture during the more recent years when his life began to slip and slide out of control. So when he reemerged from Miles’ dimension, ready and willing to take a chance on life again, it was only natural that Peter was also ready and willing to bring back more positive habits and influences – celebrating Hanukkah included.

And with you, now present in his life and curious and eager as ever, he couldn’t help but feel all the more encouraged to share it. And maybe perhaps show off. Just a little.

For example, once you removed the whole Spider-Man situation, Peter was a pretty simple guy. Especially when it came to foods: Far be it from Peter B. Parker to turn down a burger with some fries or some pizza or street food. So that’s what made it stick out all the more when, after the first night he announced his decision to attempt making challah. Followed by some latkes. Maybe a babka as well. And some sufganiyot. Never mind that he had never actually made some of these without the more experienced Aunt May taking up most of the task. But he was determined and literally and metaphorically hungry for success, and who were you to question his ambitions?

. . . Apparently somewhat saner and more aware than he was. The babka and latkes were simple enough, thankfully. But the sufganiyot? Peter couldn’t fry like that; not with the best materials money could by, when said money was provided on the budget of two people trying to make it in one of the pricier boroughs of New York. And the less said about the challah process, probably the better. . . . Though you still had plenty to say.

“You’re a spider, Peter – why is your weaving coming out so weird?” you questioned, eyeballing the tangled mess of dough. Peter huffed, trying to keep his glower on his failed efforts, rather than redirecting it at you.

“It’s not my fault the guy moves too fast,” he said, referring to the tutorial you had both played on loop. He muttered something along the lines of “for beginners, my ass.” At this rate, the real holiday miracle would be if you not only braided the challah correctly, but also if you didn’t burn down the raggedy apartment. You wanted to say that there would be no shame in calling it and just going to one of the nearby Jewish bakeries for a loaf, but your partner seemed invigorated by spite-induced determination to see this task through.

Never mind that the strands of dough flopped against one another in spite of his best efforts. At this point, it resembled less of a perfect princess braid and more like a flattened Tangela. It was pitiful, really, but you had to admit: The pout his failed efforts had earned him was cute. You didn’t want to think lightly of what he was deeming a situation, but it was quite nice seeing him like this at all. When you had first met he was quite nearly the opposite, all grumpy and aloof and wanting nothing to do with you.

Who would’ve guessed that in due time, he’d become the very man who stood before you, eager to interact with you and bond with you, sharing moments like these . . . Moments which you wish he would just go ahead and enjoy along with you.

“Hey, Peter?”

“Ye -- ” A small blast of flour collided with his crooked nose, stopping the man short. “HEY!” He cracked one eye open just enough to glare at your grinning face.

“Don’t be such a Grinch, Peeby -- ”

“Wrong holiday,” your boyfriend snarked as he wiped his face.

“Hush. Anyway, we still got a few more nights to figure this out,” you reminded. You placed a quick peck on his powdery cheek for good measure. His shoulders slumped with a sigh. As much as he didn’t want to say it, he knew you had a point. Maybe he had gotten a bit too (literally) wrapped up in getting all this right. Though he did feel his spirits lift somewhat as you placed your hand over his with assurance.

Somewhat. All that was missing was --

Pff!

“UGH! PETER!” Your hands flew to your face in an effort to wipe away the fistful of flour that now caked it. All the while, the offender himself laughed. He was probably going to have to appease you with some chocolate gelt “for damages” but as far as he was concerned, it was worth it. After all, what better way to share these important moments than with his favorite person?

Tadashi Hamada: Christmas

A local little cafe in the heart of San Fransokyo was simultaneously the best place to be for the holiday season, and the worst. The great things about it were the cute store-bought and homemade decorations that decked the cozy halls of the establishment; the seasonal baked goods and sandwich specials that made the Lucky Cat smell like cinnamon or roasted turkey; the cozy feeling that welcomed you like a hug whenever you walked in.

Alternatively, there was the whole to-do with picky or rude customers coming in from out of town; the saturation of Christmas music screeching through the speakers; and way-too-hype women taking up tables for hours at a time after spending the day shopping (and clogging the already small aisles with the bags from said shopping).

But all in all, Tadashi made it all better.

Having grown up in the Lucky Cat, he’d long since learned how to cancel out the grinchiness the holiday season brought out, and was more than happy to help you do the same using his own methods. If you focused on the little things, he figured, you could attach sweeter memories and associations to them. Especially if you veered a little off the usual path.

Sure, there was joining him in the kitchen to prepare and bake cranberry-speckled pastries and frost cookies to resemble familiar holiday characters and items. But there was also stringing popcorn garlands together (“Tadashi, you’re the youngest 70-something year-old I have ever met.” “Hush, you; I’m doing you a favor by laying my Christmas cheer all over you.” “Phrasing, ‘Dashi, geez!”). But at the end of the day, there was one thing in particular that your boyfriend did to sweeten the deal. The one thing only someone like Tadashi could do: Snowball fight a la manipulation of barometric pressure.

Following the incident with the snow machine two years ago, Tadashi had to make a promise to Aunt Cass to only use it outside. Away from the house. That suited Tadashi just fine. After all: What better way to pelt your loved one in the face using snow warfare than to do so in a wide-open space like the park? And while those fortunate (and unfortunate) enough to have come upon the unusual winter wonderland he had created, the facts still stood: This was about you and him. You vs him, diving behind mounds of snow, screeching with both joy and discomfort whenever the snow made an impact against bare skin, eyes tearing up from the cold . . .

You could’ve done this for hours, especially since you were pretty positive Tadashi was letting you win. If only he hadn’t called for an armistice.

“ ‘Armistice’? For what? You scared I’ll beat your butt again?” you taunted through chattering teeth.

“No, you ding-dong,” Tadashi shook his head. “Look at you: You’re clearly at your limit with the cold.”

“Nuh-uh!” As if to betray you, your body gave a sudden jolt; a release of shivers like a spring being let loose after coiling. As if unimpressed, the young man reached for your gloved hands and gave one a gentle squeeze.

“Does that hurt?” he questioned.

You winced. “N-no . . .”

You heard him click his tongue. “Ah. Enforced armistice.”

“No fair!” you whined.

“If you sign the treaty, I will include hot cocoa when we get back.”

. . . Well, he could make a mean hot chocolate. Not too sweet, not too bitter, it was perfectly creamy with only the slightest hint of cinnamon for kicks. It was the perfect thing to relax you, causing you to come undone as it’s warmth spread about you inside while the warmth of the kotatsu took care of you on the outside.

“Comfy?” your boyfriend asked. You purred, foregoing a more proper answer just to take another sip of the glorious hot drink. Your enthusiasm earned you a chuckle from him as he inched closer to you. Just enough to hold your hand in his. “For body heat purposes” he might’ve insisted, had you asked. Not that you minded it: It was just what the evening needed to feel complete. Not the goofy, awful ugly sweater he wore that made Rudolph’s nose blink when you pressed a certain spot; not the gentle crooning of Christmas classics sounding from the miniature stereo Tadashi had set up; not even stockings carefully lined along the makeshift mantle, or the presents glimmering beneath the lights of the twinkling tree.

Just the warm feeling of togetherness. That this beautiful man you get to call yours is so willing to share how he celebrates with you. And that you, it turn, get to celebrate with him.

“Hey, you made her cocoa?!” Hiro’s complaining ripped through the air.

And his small but nevertheless vibrant family, of course.

Bruce Wayne: New Years Eve

Let’s face it: New Years Eve sucks. All everyone wants to do is throw a party (even when they actually don’t really want to), the parties are either obnoxiously loud or awkwardly quiet (there is no in-between), there’s never any food because all people wanna do (or have been convinced to do) is drink, and the alcohol is usually crap by the time you get there because everyone already knew to tackle the good booze as soon as they arrived.

Suffice to say, you had some gripes when it came to New Years Eve. And in spite of the luxurious images that tended to come to mind, parties thrown by the wealthy weren’t any different from the average one thrown by the common man. Really, the only difference was that the alcohol was of higher quality and the gatherings were usually held at some large hall like a hotel ballroom or even at a prestigious gallery.

But even if you’d known that beforehand, you still would’ve accompanied Bruce to one such party. Bruce wasn’t fond of them himself, but he needed to at least make an appearance to save face with all the moochers and bigwigs from neighboring industries and enterprises. You were honestly just there for support, though it was just as agonizing for you as it was for him.

Well, at least you didn’t have to actually talk extensively with anyone, you mused. You’d been nursing your drink for the last half hour or so, trying to walk that thin line between going about undisturbed while also not coming across as frigid or wallflowery. Not too far off, you could see Bruce smiling at another partygoer: A buxom ginger, surely an important figure in her own right, but clearly seeing no harm in grinning coquettishly at the affluent Prince of Gotham. You felt no trace of jealousy within you, however. You knew Bruce’s real smile, and the one he was currently providing her wasn’t it in the slightest.

No, the real one was the one he flashed you when he glanced over at you to make sure that you were doing fine off and alone. A sweet, glorious smile that reached his eyes. Though, there were also traces of exhaustion. And you suspected that the smile you returned held just as much because soon after that, you watched him excuse himself from whatever conversation he’d been trying to carry before making his way over to you.

“How’re you holding up?” he inspected.

You shrugged and sighed, “It is what it is. I’m making peace with the fact that the last thing I would’ve eaten this year would’ve been an assortment of cocktail wienies, what I think might’ve been pate, and ginger ale.” You’d meant for it to come across as more humorous, but the dry tone you had delivered your words in ruined the effect.

Bruce winced and offered yet another smile: A wobbly, more sheepish one.

“You ready to go home?”

God, yes.

“No, no,” you replied. “Really, it’s fine. Besides, it’s almost midnight anyway -- it probably wouldn’t look good if Bruce Wayne ditched a party his glorious hosts have so graciously invited him to.”

You watched as your significant other raised his brow. “Honey, I’m Bruce Wayne: I’m known for ditching parties.”

“Oh,” you said simply. Fair point. To your minor relief and slight embarrassment, he huskily chuckled.

“C’mon,” he sighed, placing his hand on your lower back as guidance. “My ass is sore from all the butt-kissing. Let’s go home where it’s warm. And quiet.”

“And we can actually eat!” you chirped, a little too excitedly. Once again, your embarrassment was met with approval.

The outside was both quieter and just as noisy as the inside of the celebration. Quieter because of the muting effect the fallen snow had, but also more lively because of the surrounding restaurants and streets and bars filled with people cheering and blowing party horns and singing in slurred joy. You liked it better than the party, if you had to be honest. But maybe perhaps because as you wandered the snow-caked streets to reach where Bruce had parked the car, you felt his gloved hand wrap around your own.

Of course, it was probably just to keep your hand warm -- maybe even just to make sure you kept pace with him, or that if you wouldn’t fall if you hit a small patch of black ice. But in a little corner of your mind, you couldn’t help but romanticize it: It was like he was accompanying you into the new year in a way. Just you and him. No loud parties, no pressures, no being anywhere or with anyone you didn’t want to be.

“Thanks, by the way.” Bruce broke the silence in a puff of cold air. “I know these really aren’t your thing -- I mean, personally, they aren’t mine, either, but you really didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to. But I appreciate that you . . . that you did.”

Your cheeks burned, though not from the whipping cold of the late December air.

“Of course I did . . .” you reasoned. “I know it sounds goofy but . . . we’re in this together, y’know?” You gave his hand a small squeeze. He squeezed yours right back, but with a bit more power. The warmth of it traveled up into your chest and cheeks. You licked your chapping lips.

“Besides,” you continued, “if I had just stayed home, I would’ve been bored. And probably would’ve given my New Year’s Kiss to Alfred.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, who knows? New year, new me, right?”

You couldn’t have imagined what Bruce would’ve responded with next if it weren’t for the sudden distraction: The air, disorderly and sloppy mere seconds before, had all at once seemed to become uniform with the sounds of chanting. A count down.

You’d lived through so many New Years before, you weren’t quite sure what made this one different. There was no reason for you to pause as you did, your heart suddenly thundering in your chest at the realization of what was to come. It was just another year, right? A new year with new promises, new disappointments, new surprises both good and bad, new --

“ -- two! One! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”

You had barely had a moment to register the words before you became distracted with registering something entirely different: A pair of warm lips pressed against your own, the feeling of large arms wrapped about your waist to pull you in close.

As he parted from you, Bruce flashed you one of his real smiles once more. One that denoted the mischief only you were truly privy to.

“Beat him to it,” he teased.

And for as shocked as you were over the exchange of the midnight kiss, you couldn’t help but blink . . . and find yourself in a giggling fit. That was why this year felt different: You had never had a boyfriend on New Years before. Scratch that: You had never had Bruce for New Years. And that made a world of difference. You didn’t want to make any assumptions but . . . it was a pretty great way to start a new year, if you did say so yourself.

#dewey finn x reader #peter b parker x reader #tadashi hamada x reader #bruce wayne x reader #Batman x reader #Dewey Finn #Dewey Finn imagine #Dewey Finn imagines #Peter b Parker imagine #Peter b Parker imagines #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne imagines #Tadashi Hamada imagine #Tadashi Hamada imagines #school of rock imagines #spiderman into the spiderverse imagines #big hero six imagines #dceu imagines #*casually posts this like 2/4 of these holidays haven't already happened*#Peter B. Parker is Jewish and I don’t see enough people openly acknowledging this #he’s Jewish m’kay? and you can’t argue otherwise because it’s canon as hell #...really tho based on some intricacies here the only one on this list who probably isn’t Jewish or of Jewish descent is Tadashi #just sayin #happy holidays y'all #preference #preferences

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verobatto · 4 years ago

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Destiel Chronicles

Vol. CXVI

It was a love story from the very beginning.

The Mal'ak Box Symbolism

(14x11/14x12)

Hi My lovelies! Today we are gonna talk about another Dean's emotional prison: The Mal'ak Box.

This meta is a resume of my season 14 metas from these episodes.

You can find 14x11 and 14x12 here: X, X, X, X, X and X.

Coming Back to the Prison

The whole episode 14x11 was Dean saying goodbye to his beloveds (Sam, Donna and Mary). Avoiding to face Castiel because even when he said Sam was the only one who could convince Dean to not do that, Castiel was the only one who could really stop him.

There was a few things I want to point out before jumping to next episode:

Mary and Donna talking about their break ups with their lovers' was a foreshadow for the incoming Destiel break up.

The Mal'ak Box was a symbolic representation of Dean in the closet and writers pushing him there (yeah, writers and C*W). By making AUMichael (Dean's toxic masculinity) hitting his head each time he was thinking in a way out. This way out means Dean accepting his feelings for Castiel and finally confessing his love for him.

Dean's ILY Journey was following it's steps by telling Sam'I love you guys for trying', after his ILY to his mom in episode 12x20, interrupted again in episode 15x09. So sad.

Another important addition to the symbolism of the construction of this box was the fact that while Dean was making it, there was sparkles in the air and the sparkles were showering hot brunette shirtless cowboys that were blatantly Castiel's mirror. This was because Dean was thinking about Castiel while he was making that box to repress his feelings for him forever.

Dean and words

Writing just a few words about the whole biblical symbolism of episode 14x12, the only important point was each one of the references were linked to the sacrifice of the first born, it means, to Dean and his Mal'ak Box. But it was also preluding Jack's death at the end of the season. And the attempt of Dean of killing him.

Another creepy thing was Nick and Lucifer representing a dar Destiel mirror. The whole prayer to Luci in the Empty and the awakening of Lucifer through Nick's longing just like Dean did through his longing and Jack with Castiel in the Empty (13x03). And I innocently thought it was a foreshadow of Dean rescuing Castiel from the Empty at the end of the show. (Sobs loudly).

I'm gonna focus this second half just on the two Destiel scenes in episode 14x12.

So... Bc Castiel represents everything Dean wants and represents everything what he can't have and is reminding him all the time that HE'S LOVED AND HE DESERVES TO BE SAVED AND HE IS WORTH IT, he needs to AVOID HIM. Bc the FIRST BORN SACRIFICE REQUIRES NOT HAVE THIS THINGS.

The first one was the phonecall.

Gif set credit @starsmish

Gif credit @inacatastrophicmind

I wrote all of those thoughts after comparing Dean Winchester's communicating his feelings to his brother (which he does it well and honest) against Dean Winchester communicating his feelings to Castiel (a perfect failure).

This is because Sam represents Family Love and Castiel romantic love, which make things more difficult to Dean.

Now, let's go to thw Hospital and Dr. Cas (fanservice and a delight to see).

The dialogue between Dean and Castiel was full of second meanings.

CAS: Hey, Dean. What happened to him – that was my fault. It was necessary. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t regret it. It doesn’t mean that I don’t wish that there could’ve been another way.

DEAN: I know the feeling.

CAS: Oh, no. No, please don’t compare this with your suicidal plan. Just stop.

DEAN: Okay, alright. Why don’t we talk about that later?

CAS: Because, according to your plan, there won’t be a later.

This is funny, because is Dean the one bringing the topic and when Castiel tries to keep talking about it, with his obvious against the plan position, Dean is avoiding it again.

DEAN: Cas… if you are a friend of mine, then you will understand that I have to do this and you won’t try to stop me. You think this is easy on me? It has to be done.

Gif set credit @starsmish.

Castiel shooting again with honesty, and Dean... Can't respond... But look at his face. He swallows, dimples of discontent, and the movement of his face and his eyes are saying: "Please don't make me say it... I could never say goodbye to you."

To Conclude:

I think the Mal'ak box was a recoil of Dean's character and it was a prelude of his sad ending.

The differences between San and Dean communication and Dean and Castiel communication are huge. The centric meaning in all of that is because Sam represents family and Castiel represents Dean's love interest, everything what Dean wants and he can't have.

Hope you liked this one, see you in the next one.

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @dizzypinwheel @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @belacoded @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @deancasgirl777

If you want to be added or removed from this list just let me know.

If you wanna read the previous metas from this season here you have the links:

Vol. CIX, CX, CXI, CXII, CXIII, CXIV, CXV.

Buenos Aires June 6 2021 2:32 PM

#destiel #destiel chronicles #destiel meta #supernatural meta #season 14 meta #14x11 #14x12 #14x11 meta #14x12 meta

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captainscanadian · 4 years ago

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Love Me Blue | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Rasleela)

MY MASTERLIST

Series Masterlist

Summary: Perhaps Bucky Barnes is the Krishna to your Radha.

Word Count: 3800+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tamilian!Hindu!Reader, Sam Wilson

Warnings: References to Hinduism, PTSD, Endgame References.

A/N: This is my entry for @bucky-smiles‘s 3K Diversity Writing Challenge! My prompt was to write a fic with a Hindu reader. I decided to write this fic with a Tamilian reader because I am Tamilian. I was born in Sri Lanka and my mother’s side of the family are Hindu. Although I consider myself an agnostic theist, I do enjoy reading the epics of Mahabharata and Ramayana. Pic from Pinterest! <3 Divider by @whimsicalrogers!

The more Bucky Barnes read about Hinduism, the more intrigued he became about how a highly skilled former SHIELD agent had retained her faith even after living through the literal end of the world. After Thanos and the Infinity War, and losing Tony and Natasha, it came as a surprise to him that you still continued to uphold the religious traditions that you were raised with. You could have easily walked away from them, but it was the fact that you chose not to do so that made Bucky realize how strong you were.

From maintaining a strict vegetarian diet to starting your day with the morning chants, the way your daily life was filled with your faith… it was refreshing to see, especially during a time when people were not always that religious. Nowadays when he awoke at dawn, he would hear the usual chants of the Sri Venkateswara Suprabhatam being recited next door, and he could not deny that it gave him the same kind of comfort as it did to you.

Whenever the rest of the team were gone on missions, he often joined you in your living quarters for breakfast, and it was safe to say that he had taken a liking to the hearty South Indian vegetarian meal that he could often expect from you. In a way, he often looked forward to the days when the two of you were alone at the compound. Usually, that included cooking together and talking about your life in India and his time in Wakanda. Other times, you found yourself working out together; you were even sparring partners.

It was no secret that the two of you had been spending quite a lot of time together, and the Avengers were not completely oblivious to the sparks that were flying between you and the super soldier every time you were in the same room. As much as you hated to admit it to yourself, when Wanda pressed on during one of your many girls’ nights, you confessed that you did feel something for Bucky. You had brushed it off as your inner history nerd being fascinated by a man who fought in the Second World War, but you knew better than that. Wanda knew as well; she could read minds, after all.

Sam had also noticed that Bucky had started to come out of his shell ever since you had arrived at the compound, and he could never pass up an opportunity to tease him about it. “So, you’ve been in a good mood lately…” He pointed out to his friend during one workout session.

Bucky knew where Sam was getting at, but a part of him refused to give him the satisfaction of being right. “It must be the extra sleep I’ve been getting.” He admitted, genuinely.

It was partially true, as his sleep has improved a lot since he had first moved into the compound. Between working together with the compound’s newly hired in-house therapist and spending time with you, it seemed that his nerves had finally calmed down.

“Does Y/N have anything to do with that?” He asked, batting his eyelashes in a rather teasing manner.

This caused the supersoldier to become flushed, and he quickly looked away to hide the sheepish grin on his lips. “Possibly.” He could not lie about how your arrival at the compound had certainly lifted his spirits; in a world where he had assumed that he was on his own, you had been the one to show him that he wasn’t alone and he did not want to be alone again.

Sam knew damn well that you and Bucky were one and the same. Both of you had faced tremendous loss, and had given up on fighting in hopes of finding peace, only to be pulled back into the fight again. He could not deny that the two of you would make a good pair, as different as you were.

When he had asked Bucky if he had any intentions to ask you out, that was when Bucky had even considered asking you out. Not that he worried that you would reject him; he was just unsure that it was the right time. Despite defeating Thanos, the world was still in shock from the blip and it seemed unfair of him that he wanted to move on from that. But he knew better than to let these anxieties get the worst of him. He had seen enough war and suffering; it was time for him to put his happiness before all.

Needless to say, you made him very happy.

He had told Sam of his plan on asking you out, but he wanted to plan the most perfect date for the two of you. He wanted to ask you out when he knew what your first date would be, and so he hoped to find out more about what you wanted when it came to your love life.

It was during one of your many late night chats by the lake when you had found yourself staring up at the starlit sky, your peacock print scarf wrapped over your shoulders as you pulled your knees up to your chest.

Bucky had been pacing back and forth across the gazebo, trying to find the right words to say even though he did not want to be direct. “Hey Y/N, can I ask you something?”

The sound of his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you turned over to face him. “If it’s about the Cold War, I can’t answer that.”

This made him chuckle softly, and certainly put his nerves at ease. “Oh? And here I thought that you knew your history.” He teased, as always.

Laughing softly, you stood up from your seat on the bench and walked up to him. “I do know my history, but I’ve got my mind on the present at the moment.” You admitted, honestly.

Who were you kidding? When you first met this man, you did have your mind on history. You were fascinated by the Howling Commando who fought alongside Captain America; he was merely a historical figure to you.

But now in the present, you could not deny that he was much more than that. He was a friend, a companion, someone you had become quite fond of. You did not know how to describe it; but you could not deny that you saw a glimpse of Lord Krishna in his eyes. He sure had the charm, and the mystery, but your own fear of loss had held you back from acting on what you felt for him.

“Speaking of the moment, that brings me back to my question.” He rolled his eyes at you rather playfully. “What’s Rasleela?”

Your eyes grew wide at his question. “Rasleela?”

“I looked up one of the paintings in your apartment.” He responded with a shrug.

Ever since he had spent that night at your apartment, Bucky had been frequently asking you questions about the various paintings and idols of Lord Krishna that you had kept in your living quarters. He had explained that his fascination with your religion had stemmed from the fact that he had lived in Wakanda and had experienced their culture as well; and it had caused him to become curious of all of the traditions that you followed.

Of course, you had no problem sharing with him the context behind the paintings around your home. The story of Radha and Krishna was always close to your heart, and you certainly appreciated being able to share them with someone else. It was no secret that sharing these love stories with Bucky had only contributed to your feelings towards him, but you did not want to get ahead of yourself like that. You were technically his boss, after all.

“Rasleela… well, the literal meaning of it is ‘the dance of divine love’ but that’s quite a mouthful.” You admitted, laughing softly. ��The painting I have in my apartment shows Lord Krishna and Radha dancing under the stars, doesn’t it? My grandmother told me that it happens in one night, when Lord Krishna hides in the forest and plays his flute. All the girls in his village get so mesmerized by it… they follow the music into the forest and they go searching for him. When they find him, they dance all night. It’s a celebration of love, really… the dancing.”

“But why are there so many women who danced with him?” He asked. “Why is he dancing with all of them when Radha was the one he loved?”

“Believe it or not, he was quite the playboy.” You replied, your lips curling into a smirk as you crossed your arms against your chest. “He loved Radha the most, but every girl in the village still loved him.”

“So, you have a thing for playboys, huh?”

“I have a thing for Lord Krishna.” You replied in a rather teasing manner. “I mean, I’m devoted to Lord Krishna. But when it comes to my love life… I want someone to love me like Lord Krishna loved Radha.”

As messed up as the world was, this wish of yours had never changed. Ever since you were a little girl in South India listening to your grandmother’s stories, you fell in love with Lord Krishna and the pure love that he held for Radha. This kind of love was unconditional, and undying.

“Would you ever want to have your own Rasleela, Y/N?” Bucky asked you, rather curiously.

“What?”

“Dance all night, under the stars, celebrate love… would you ever want to be a part of something like that?” He asked.

You thought for a moment, wondering if you could ever be a part of something so magical. “I mean, I doubt that I would ever experience something so magical. But if I found someone to be my Krishna, I guess I won’t be opposed to it.” And you meant that.

Frankly, he knew exactly what you meant too.

When you woke up the next morning, it was way past dawn. You had turned on the usual morning chants on your phone, and hooked it up to the speakers. While the chants were playing in the background, you made your way over to the bathroom to clean yourself up and get ready for your prayers. But when you made your way over towards your shrine, you had noticed that the footprints that you had painted from your front door were no longer there.

You hadn’t taken them off, so it made you wonder who would have managed to scrape all of that paint off of the tiles. But when you made your way over to the front door and opened it, you were greeted by a surprise.

It was a box, rectangular and tied with a giant red bow. You looked around the hallway before picking it up, wondering who would have left this as you closed the door behind you. As curious as you were about what was in that box, you did not open it right away. You had to head to work, since Rhodey and Wanda had just returned from a mission.

When you arrived to make yourself some breakfast, the dining area had been rather empty. Most of the team had eaten and left, but the table had been set for one; it had a plate that was covered with a lid and a sticky note with your name on it.

“Well, this morning has been full of surprises, hasn’t it?” You said to yourself as you sat down on the table and removed the lid, seeing a freshly prepared dosa and onion chutney on the plate. “It sure has…”

At that moment, you knew damn well who was responsible for the neatly wrapped box at your door and the South Indian breakfast surprise; other than yourself, there was only one other person here at the compound who knew how to make South Indian food, and he had been acting a little suspicious lately.

You had eaten your breakfast in quiet, constantly paying attention to your surroundings in hopes that Bucky would return to the dining area to ensure that you were eating the meal he had left behind for you. But to your disappointment, he did not show. As a matter of fact, the last time you saw him had been when you had returned to your living quarters following your nightly chat by the lake.

The rest of the day went by as you were swarmed with mission reports and briefings, and the whole time Bucky was nowhere to be found. Not that he had to be a part of them, as he hadn’t been taking part in missions just yet. But it was safe to say that you could not go this long without seeing him.

Of course, you could have asked your team if they had seen Bucky anywhere. If he wasn’t at the compound, you knew that he would have at least told someone where he went. Truth be told, your pride had just gotten in the way of you just blatantly admitting to someone that you were looking for him. You could just picture the look on Sam’s eyes when you asked him where Bucky was.

“Took you long enough.” Sam muttered when you entered his living quarters. “I’ve been expecting you all morning, Y/N.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, crossing your arms as you looked over at him in utter confusion.

“You’re looking for the cyborg, aren’t ya?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I am. I haven’t seen him all day, and he left breakfast for me. I figured that I would ask you where I could find him. Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” He replied, giving you a reassuring smile. “He’s just hiding from you.”

“Then where is he?” You asked, wondering what was going on with the supersoldier. “What? Why?”

“He left on his Harley at sunrise while I was going on my run. He didn’t tell me where he was headed, just that he needed to stay hidden until nightfall and that you would know where to find him.” He replied with a shrug. “Something about ‘following the music’ or whatever. I had no idea what he meant by that.”

Your cheeks flushed at his words before you shook your head. “God, I should have known that he was up to something when he asked me what he did last night.” You admitted, sighing.

“What did he ask you?”

“Nothing you should know about.” You replied with a wink. “Did he say anything else, by the way?”

“Just that you would know where he is… and that you should just ‘follow the music’ if you didn’t know. Don’t get me wrong, I have no idea what that means. But if you want, I can help you track him down.” He offered. “Honestly. I don’t know what goes on in that cyborg brain of his.”

You wanted to consider Sam’s offer, but you knew that it was best not to. Clearly, Bucky had known that you would find him; it even seemed that he wanted you to. As much as you want to let Sam get involved, and you understood his good heart for offering, you wanted this to be a lot more personal. Besides, Agent Y/L/N was not someone who would back away from a challenge.

“It’s fine, Sam.” You shrugged him off. “If he wants me to go on a wild goose chase, then I guess that’s what I’ll do. It’s not like I have a team of superheroes to oversee or anything like that.”

The Falcon chuckled at that. “I’ve always known that something was up with the two of you.” He admitted, genuinely. Having watched you at your lowest, he wanted nothing more than for you to find happiness, especially with someone like Bucky. “You like him, don’t you?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I do.” You confessed, feeling your cheeks heat up once again. “I mean, I don’t think I know how to keep that a secret. We have been spending a lot of time together lately, and I’m sure people are starting to notice.”

Not that you cared about what anyone might think. Being the supervising officer to the Avengers did not mean that you had to stray away from meeting your personal needs. You had all survived an apocalypse; the least you could do is be happy.

“I know he likes you too, Y/N. He can’t seem to shut up about you, and I hope that everything works out for you.” He grinned as he pulled you into an embrace. “You deserve it.”

You gave him a nod as you hugged him back. “Thanks, Sam. I know that… I’ve been hard on myself ever since… what happened. But I know now that Bucky’s not the bad guy in my story. He never was, and maybe… maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe the bad things in my life are over.”

Sam nodded understandingly, still not letting go of the hug. “Have you told him yet?” He asked, certainly worried about his two close friends.

You shook your head. “No, I haven’t told him. I didn’t know how to. How am I supposed to tell him that I misunderstood him? Or that there was a time when I wanted nothing more than to kill him?”

Looking back at that time only broke your heart, and your eyes glazed over. You knew that Bucky would never judge you if he ever found out about your past, but you could not get yourself to share this with him. You did not know how to.

“You know that wasn’t your fault, Y/N.” He reminded you. “Just like it wasn’t his fault either.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know that now. But I can’t help but feel guilty sometimes. Bucky’s one of the sweetest, kindest, and gentlest people I’ve ever met. I just feel awful about believing what everyone was saying about him. I should have known better. I should have believed Steve.”

Pulling back from the hug, Sam quickly wiped away your tears. “Y/N, come on… there’s no point in feeling shitty about the past. Bucky likes you. You like Bucky. Just focus on the present for now, okay? You and I both know that Bucky’s the last person who would judge you for what happened, and if he found out about what you’ve been through, I know for a fact that it wouldn’t change anything. You have nothing to worry about, okay?”

“Okay.” You sighed, knowing that he was right. “I should probably go and find him.”

“Yeah, you do that.” He agreed, chuckling softly before leaning over to kiss your forehead. “Be happy, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

When you exited Sam’s living quarters, you headed back to your own. Remembering that the footprints in your living room had been removed, you wondered if it could be Bucky’s doing. You and Bucky had been talking well into the late hours of the night before you decided to head back to your living quarters, and he had walked you back to yours the whole way. You could not remember if Bucky had come inside with you, but he certainly could have come in with you and helped you into bed before he had scraped the footprints off.

But if so, why would he do that?

What did Bucky mean when he had told Sam that you would know where he was? What did he mean by ‘follow the music’? Why did he ask you about Rasleela last night?

You suddenly remembered the box that you had found at your doorstep that morning, and you rushed over to open it. Inside was a dark blue lace dress that was straight out of the 1940s, and a handwritten note from Bucky.

If you would let me be the Krishna to your Radha, I’ll show you how we did ‘Rasleela’ back in my day. -Bucky

Reading the note only made your cheeks heat up once again. You had been expecting him to pull something like this on you since the moment he had even asked you about the meaning of Rasleela in the first place. But you hadn’t expected him to be this fast.

It did not take you long to figure out where he was. After all, Sam had mentioned that Bucky had left the compound pretty early. With his clue to ‘follow the music’ and the message he had left on that note, it was all pretty clear to you.

Being a history major, you had always been fond of how much New York City had changed since the days of the Great Depression. When you had first met Steve Rogers and taken him on a tour around Manhattan, he had mentioned to you of how different it had been back in the day.

You had been the first one to find out about how Peggy had asked him to meet her at the Stork Club for their date, which Steve hadn’t been able to make. Seventy years later, you had offered to take him to the place where the Stork Club used to be.

It was a pocket park now, with the club being demolished and replaced with an artificial waterfall and several benches. You and Steve had sat there for hours, and he had shared with you all the stories about how Bucky would drag him out there to go dancing with some girls he met.

What a playboy he must have been back then?

Before you knew it, you had slipped into the dress that Bucky had given you and were heading towards Paley Park in hopes that you could find him there. As it was a four hour drive from the compound to the heart of Manhattan, you found yourself bringing out one of your favourite toys.

A present from your former mentor and SHIELD Supervising Officer Agent Phil Coulson, Lola was a cherry red 1962 Chevrolet Corvette that was upgraded with some of Howard Stark’s, and then Tony Stark’s technologies. Steve used to tell you that Howard had once promised to create flying cars at one of the Stark Expos, and Lola was the closest thing that came to that; in flight mode, the wheels folded down and there was a hover-capable propulsion system that replaced them.

Knowing of Bucky’s interest in flying cars through Steve, you could only hope that he would be excited to see you arriving in Lola when you pulled up to Paley Park. Frankly, the four hour drive to the city was now cut short, thanks to Lola. Oh how you loved Phil for letting you take his car after him. Even though you were only using her for leisurely purposes, Lola made you feel some kind of power. After all, if you could drive a flying car, you could pretty much do anything else in the world.

#3kdiversity #aj writes #love me blue #rasleela #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x desi!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes series #desi au

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taliaquinn · 4 years ago

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Why Me!? Chapter 20

Authors Note: So hey guys!! A lot of you figured out my mini-Easter egg when I mentioned New York City. Kudos to you smarties. Let me tell you my tag list is open, because I adore you guys a lot.

“So where's Dick and Cass?” Marinette asked wondering where Dick disappeared off to. He was SUPPOSED to be there on the plane with them. However, once they arrived at the airfield Dick was nowhere to be found.

Flinching Tim looked up from the business files in his hands.

Hey while he was gonna be in New York City he may as well look into future business partners and get some more jobs in Gotham.

“Well uh, Dick he uh decided to stay..home because….” side-eyeing Jason he quickly elbowed him.

Startled while reading his book he took a quick second to decide on a good cover story “because…his ribs still hurt and you know what Bruce is like all overprotective and stuff…so shes babysitting him....” Ugh Tim and Him were going to have to practice on coming up with good cover stories. The whole Keeping the family secret from the family was getting really annoying.

“That sucks, this is my first trip to New York City,” Oblivious to the awful cover stories Marinette continued sketching. She did plan for her class to have a field trip to New York City to tour around. But all those plans went down the drain once she left. Oh well, there loss. “I'm even going to meet up with my friend Chloe at the hotel!!!” Marinette said excitedly. Chloe sent her an email a day ago about her vacation plans, (her revenge plans too). Marinette was over the moon when she found out that she was going to be there for the Stark Gala too!!!!

Mr.Wayne, her dad, even extended the trip a few days and got her a room, aka suite so Chloe could stay with Marinette more.

Chloe of course was curious as to who exactly these relatives were. I mean come on they booked a suite at a five-star hotel, in New York City, for Marinette and a Friend.

Marinette promised to explain everything to her when they were together.

“She's….the Mayor's daughter right???” Jason asked, trying to change the topic.

Unbeknownst to Marinette, Jason and Dick, before Bruce and Dick fought anyways, convinced Bruce to get Marinette her own suite, so she could do the babysitting job without distractions. It was pretty easy to guilt-trip Bruce once they pulled the “Daughter who you never knew about” card. Guilt-tripping works.

At Marinette's excited nod he added “She’s frikin loaded right?”

“Jason, you realize we’re on a private jet, on our way to New York City, to stay in a five star hotel, to attend the Stark Gala?” Tim teased, flipping through business papers. Bleugh Lex Corp that's a definite pass on that business offer.

“ Yeah right, you guys are attending the Gala” Jason rebutted “I have my own stuff to do Timmers”.

“Stuff” meaning a top-secret joint mission with Captain Rogers and Black Widow. Working together to take down a drug trafficking ring located in the heart of the city. Working with the Avengers every now and then exhilarating for Jason. Sure the Avengers worked more closely with the Government but they didn't have a universal; “No-Kill” rule.

Which was why Bruce hated joint-missions with the Avengers.

Extra icing on the cake for Jason.

“Excuses” Tim mumbled, upset that Bruce was forcing him to sit the mission out. Something about him being “overworked” pfft. He wasn't drinking coffee that much.

“Speaking of the gala, Marinette you have your dress ready?” He asked. Knowing that Marinette decided to make her own dress for the gala.

“Yep finished the detailing last night, and have my jewelry and shoes ready,'' Marinette said, patting her suitcase. Mr.Wayne was nice enough to buy her a bunch of fabric and also gifted her a necklace and bracelet to match. He also gave her earrings but she opted out of them since she learned her lesson about taking off her Miraculous. Thank you very much.

“What's with the armbands?” Jason asked, seeing Marinette pack them earlier. He assumed they had something to do with her “babysitting” job.

“Oh they were Alexei’s, they match with that I'm wearing”

“Your biological mom?”

“Yep, gotta ask Mr. Wayne more about her, I was only barely able to pry so much from my mom” Her mom would get too emotional sometimes when Marinette asked too many questions. Eventually, she just gave up asking.

“Ha Mr. Wayne, you do know that annoys Bruce to no end right?” Tim joked, seeing Bruce's face of frustration every time Marinette refers to him as Mr. Wayne.

“I do, it's just…” she was still struggling with her Biological parents and having a bunch of siblings suddenly “Too awkward for me to call him anything else”

“Jesus you sound like Peter” he scoffed.

“Who's Peter?” She asked with a slight scrunch of her eyes. That oddly reminded both Tim and Jason about Bruce. Bruce would scrunch his eyes whenever asking a question sometimes.

“Oh trust me you'll meet him soon” Jason answered going back to his book.

Dick was right the whole Wayne vs. Stark rivalry would be a perfect distraction. Oh if only Tim had his Camera.

......……

They finally landed, and soon Bruce was helping everyone off and into a car and heading towards their hotel. Once at their hotel, Bruce checked their bags in. Jason stayed behind to “rest” while everyone went to Stark Tower.

“Wait so Tony Stark is the one who is Throwing the Gala?” Marinette asked curiously inside the car.

“Yep he’s throwing the gala to raise funds for hospitals and clinics all located around the world” Rolling his eyes Tim continued “Well that's the official reason anyway, right now he wants to out-do Bruce's Charity Gala from a few months ago”

“As if that will ever happen” Bruce added. Ha, Stark wished he could outmatch his Galas.

“Talk about rich people's problems” she sighed.

“You're not wrong, One more thing, watch out Tony might try to take you as his own”

“What!?” Marinette squeaked out

Soon they arrived and made their way towards the suites. The elevators swished open to a smiling Pepper Potts and pouting Tony Stark.

“Pep, you see this? Bruce managed to get another one, you know what's the score now? 7-4” Tony complained once he saw Marinette. Bruce only glared back.

Ignoring them Tim stepped off and made a beeline towards Pepper and hugged her careful to squeeze her too tight

“Congratulations Pepper,” Tim said.

“Oh Thank you, Tim. It's great to see you after so long” Pepper said, hugging him back. She glanced around and noticed that a certain Red Hood was missing

“Where's Jason?” she asked frowning

“Unfortunately he stayed behind at the hotel to rest” he answered rolling his eyes. “But I brought someone better,” he said, reaching and pulling a startled Marinette forward.

“Meet Marinette Dupain Cheng,”

“Eeeep, uh Hi, I'm uh Mari-Marinette, but youalreadyknewthat, uh Hi” Marinette stuttered out.

Completely starstruck at meeting The Pepper Potts. CEO of Stark Industries and Style Icon. Oh god, she wished she brought her sketchbook. Maybe she can do a quick sketch on a napkin

Pepper couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the Stuttering French girl, reminded of another awkward teenager. Hopefully, Tony doesn't try and claim this one. She was pretty sure that Bruce wouldn’t appreciate that at all, judging by the way Bruce was eyeing Tony.

“Brucie dear you adopted another one!?’ Tony teased Bruce swinging his arm around his shoulder

“She's my daughter Stark,” Bruce responded, glaring at Stark “also what are you pouting about? I hear you're going to have a baby soon congratulations Pepper by the way”.

“Brucie, you have your gaggle of children. I deserve one too!!” Tony complained, wrapping his arm around his Pregnant Wife's shoulder. Trying, yet failing, to conceal his excitement at getting another kid.

He turned to greet Marinette when suddenly his eyes went wide. Marinette only stared back. A sudden staring match between her and Mr.Stark was happening apparently. What was Marinette's life? She remembered once being a normal girl. Maybe she should just blink.

“Wait HOLD UP!!!” Tony exclaimed suddenly ending the staring match, looking back and forth between Bruce and Marinette squinting. “Are you sure this adorable child is your child?”

“Oh for the love of go- yes I’m sure Stark” Bruce sighed exasperatedly. “Why does everyone ask me that”

“Cause she's adorable, sweet, and all Sunshiney, and well you’re….you” Tim answered.

“Bingo, Don't worry Bruce I got a Sunshiney child too, matter of fact here he comes now” Tony comforted.

“OhmygoshMr.StarkI’msosorry” a soot-covered Peter apologized running up to him.

“There was a fire in the lab,dummytriedtoextinguishitbutthemhesprayedhimself,

“Kid, Bruce Wayne is he-” Tony tried to cut in

“soIhadtoputoutthefireandcleanDummyUp”

Rolling his eyes he grabbed Peter's shoulders and twisted him towards everyone else

“Oh...uh Hi?” Peter squeaked out looking like a deer caught in headlights at seeing the three guests

“Hiya Peter,” Tim chirped excitedly standing next to Marinette who was awkwardly waving hello.

“Hi, Tim” Peter answered relieved. Thank god Tim, fellow tech geek, was here. He doubted he could handle Bruce Wayne on his own.

‘Anyways Brucie you remember my sunshiney kid, Peter, right?” gripping Peter's shoulders from walking towards Wayne. Nu-uh he wasn't going to risk losing Peter to Wayne.

“Mr. Stark I'm not your kid, I still live with Aunt May. I'm your inte-”

“Hush kid“ Tony ordered covering Peter's Mouth.

Marinette sent a silent prayer. Bruce now had his hands protectively on her and Tims shoulders while Mr. Stark was doing the same to Peter. She would need a miracle to be able to survive this trip.

College Francis Dupont Paris, France 2 p.m

“NINO!!!” Nino couldn’t help but flinch, he’s been trying his best to avoid Alya all day.

Luckily the breakup happened on Friday so he had the weekend to put himself together thanks to friends and icecream, lots of ice cream.

Surprisingly Chloe was the first to approach him after the breakup. After her, Aurore and Kagami came over to comfort him. They brought him some chocolate filled pastries. After a few hours of comfort, he received a phone call from an unknown number. When he picked up it was the voice of the sweetest girl on earth that greeted him.

“Hey Nino”

“Marinette,” Nino breathed out left speechless “Why, why are you even calling me?”

“Don't be ridiculous Nino, I still consider you my friend, and right now my friend just got out of a toxic relationship” Marinette answered, yep she was happy for Nino when she heard that he broke up with Alya. Finally. “How are you”

“Who even told you?” he asked, still trying to get over the shock.

Releasing a slight giggle she replied “Chloe”

Nino couldn’t help but laugh through slightly watering eyes “Of Course”

At the reminder of Marinette, Nino mustered up the courage necessary and turned to face his ex.

Be brave Be Brave Be Brave B-

“Nino wanna explain to me why you’ve been ignoring me and Adrien since last week!!??” Alya yelled.

Channel your inner Chloe Bourgeois, he reminded himself. “We broke up, remember? I didn't want to hear your excuses”. That was all Alya ever did, make excuses.

“Excuses?” screeching Alya took a step forward closer to Nino, instead of staying there took a step back trying to keep his distance away from him “Yes, excuses you always try to act like you never did anything wrong, or not even bother to apologize” “No I don’t”

“You're doing it right now, jeez why do I even bother Marinette warned me”

“Marinette” she spat out. Of course. She’s the entire reason why she lost Nino. Well, she wasn't going to let her win. She was determined to get Nino Back.

Oblivious to her anger, Nino explained. “Marinette warned me, as your ex-best friend she became well-acquainted with your “apologies””

“I don’t owe you an apology, you just overreacted” Adrien called her, and told her how Nino refused to talk to him and was instead talking to the class traitors “Matter of fact I’m here to give you a second chance, we can go and be a couple again and be happy”

“Yeah, sorry no dice,” He started to walk away doing his best to block out her screams.

“NINO, DONT DO THIS!!!”

A purple butterfly soon emerged from nowhere. Nino watched as it made its way towards Alya. Only one thought ran through his mind as he witnessed the butterfly merge with Alyas glasses and purple bubbles engulf Alya.

Run.

Authors Message: Hope you guys enjoyed this extra long chapter. I can’t wait till I post the next chapter. Also I’m gonna start writing a series that focuses on Dick Grayson soon.

I have part two of the Hamilton AU written out I just have to do this annoying thing called editing. Keep an eye out for that soon.

As Always stay Safe and Healthy Loves.

Taglist: (Still Open)

@purplesundaze @silvergold-swirl @k-poplunardreams @pepelachanel @laurcad123 @maribat-is-lifeblood @kass-is-weird @another-fan-of-anotherplan @damianette-is-life @amayakans @parallelparabox @miukiiu @valeks-princess @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha @thezestywalru @dreamykitty25 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @mochinek0 @shamefullove @mochegato @souleateralicestein @thestressmademedoit @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @aestheticnpoetic @flufflepuffle296@mysupporthyperfixations @itsmeevie01 @jeminiikrystal @iglowinggemma28 @whydoexamsexist @kuroko26 @animalgirl05 @susiej1118 @damianthebratboy @ccwkm6967 @valyui901601 @wannajointhecrabcult @thornalchemist23 @tazanna-blythe @rebecarojas07 @moonlightstar64 @chylou34

#miraculous ladybug #mlb au #maribat #batfam #Marinette deserves better #dick grayson #Tim Drake #bruce wayne #Damian Wayne #jason todd #class salt #b!dbwm2020

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hazzabeeforlou · 5 years ago

Text

Fine Line Masterpost:

A breakdown, musically and lyrically

In Fine Line, ‘raw honesty’ doesn’t really mean delving into the details of who Harry Styles is sleeping with, but rather it’s a glimpse into the world of a 25-year-old who is both deeply in love and who fucks up a lot; he’s given to sugary supplications, is plagued by jealousy, pouts at consequences, and struggles with understanding an inner self that keeps prodding him towards exploration of his identity.

The album is constructed to be consumed by various factions of the fandom. There’s no getting away from the surface dedication of HS2 as an ode to a blonde supermodel with a delicious French accent whose new boyfriend’s father owns a gallery, a girl who has golden hair and blue eyes. I won’t be arguing that away, because it’s intentional, it’s meant to be the surface layer.

The mantle is not the crust, though. Taken individually, each song can be seen as speaking to the queer experience in varied and complex ways, and I’ve seen some truly beautiful explorations of this angle. Especially with TPWK and FL, the anthemic solidarity with queer experience is astounding and gorgeous. I think it’s no accident that this broad take holds true as we zoom in and look at the complex details; Harry has written songs that speak both to this meaning and also hold incredibly personal and intimate significance between him and a partner (in this post we’ll call them Subject).

I will be focusing on the album as a cohesive narrative in the context of it’s chronological, linear progression. Fine Line details an incredibly personal struggle; it’s a love letter, an at times embarrassing, self-loathing reflection on a love gone wrong, a love struggling, an emerging self, and a hope redeemed.

Please feel free to ask questions if any of the technical stuff is confusing, but please also remember that these are my opinions, coupled with my analysis as a professional musician (meaning, hopefully I’m remembering those torturous years of theory dictation correctly!)

Side A

All four songs share an off-kilter-ness, a restless, unsettled, frantic feeling, as if Harry is balancing, undecided between throwing himself at the feet of the one he loves or pulling away. This is no illusion; the tonic base is missing from each song save WS (but even here the tonic is sabotaged in our ear, as we’ll discuss). We’re on a journey to side B; we start with a hope that sweet memories and lust can salvage love, and we end with Harry going his own way.

Golden: There are only two chords in this song, DM and CM7, the V and IV7 of the implied tonic, G Major. We never get to tonic though. We never touch that home base. The songs “da da da’s” give it a happier, peppier illusion than the text reveals.

Harry is already broken, already reflecting and hopeless as the song begins. His intended listener, Subject - the sun, the golden one - waits for him in the sky, and is all he’s ever known. Subject has always browned his skin just right, but now, Harry reflects, perhaps has been too bright for him. (Is some aspect of Harry buried in the brilliance of Subject’s light?) This golden Subject is scared, though, scared Harry is so open. Harry doesn’t want to be alone, but he also needs to peel back edges of himself previously unexplored. Stepping into and away from light is a major theme for Harry, and this opening song sets that precedent. Subject is scared because “hearts get broken,” but Harry’s heart is already broken, so perhaps this refers not to interpersonal heartbreak, but situational. Harry recognizes he’s “out of his head...” BUT, he counters, “Loving you’s the antidote!” He naively gushes out poetry while Subject remains unconvinced. We establish an impasse.

Watermelon Sugar: The Dm - Cm - Am6 - GM chord progression is an odd one; my best guess is that the song is in D minor, so the progression is:

i, VII, v, IV

That’s not typical in a minor key. Usually the leading tone note (in this case a C) is raised (so C#) making the five chord Major (V) not minor (v) and the seven chord diminished (viio) not Major (VII). also the Major IV ignores the B flat in the key signature of D minor and instead uses B natural. So all this to say that the tonic base STILL doesn’t feel like a tonic home, because the normalcy around the key signature is erased. Everything still feels unsettled, unresolved.

Much has been made of the oral sex interpretation, so, ya. This is a song about remembering the best of times, a prayer to Subject, a plea for summertime and bellies and strawberries, and a feeling Harry is desperate to get back.

Adore You: The three chords in this song, Cm - BbM - AbM, imply an E flat Major key, so vi, V, IV, respectively. The tonic, Eb (I), is (once again) never used, and instead vi, V, IV circle without ever coming to rest.

Subject, “Honey,” creates a rainbow paradise. This is another love letter to Subject, let me adore you, I’ll walk through fire for you, you don’t have to say anything just listen to me, you don’t have to say you love me too, just please, please... you’ve been on my mind. Let me adore you like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do. By this wording, Harry admits that adoring Subject is not the only thing he ever does, yet he wishes Subject to remember, or imagine, this false reality.

Lights Up: We’re in C Major here, with the chords Am - GM - FM, creating the same exact chord progression as Adore You, vi, V, IV. We (yet again!) never reach the tonic of C Major. It’s a constant tease of resolution, but there’s no solid home base. We’re suspended in limbo.

Subject is “sorry, btw.” What does that mean, Harry asks? Sorry we’re here in this place, that this is happing? This song is Harry’s declaration: he’s not staying, he’s not coming back down. It would be sweet if things stayed the same, but no, I’m stepping into the light. “All the lights couldn’t put out the dark”... even all the golden sun of Subject couldn’t heal the void in Harry’s soul? Harry asks subject, do you know who you are? implying that he’s determined to answer this for himself. I’m reminded of the crab in Moana, singing “Shiny.” There’s a certain bravado here, a reckless glittery happiness, a flaunting, an exuberance in discovery.

Side B

Tonics are all over the place. Harry is certainly certain about heartbreak. No ambiguity here.

Cherry: GM - Em - CM, or I, vi, IV. We’re in G Major and we know it. Repetitive “cou-cos’s” pepper the track like hanging fruit (let’s imagine from cherry trees).

The song is a simple one, simple in its jealousy. Harry has let Subject go, and now Subject is at their best... and Harry hates it. He doesn't want his former pet term of endearment used on another, even though he has no claim on Subject’s actions anymore. Harry keeps finding bits of Subject in how he dresses. They’re not talking lately, and Harry perhaps is most upset that this separation isn’t going how he planned... Subject is at their best without him.

The gallery line is inserted as a bridge, a unique line of music rather separate from the rest, an intentional narrative. But what’s most fascinating is the end of the song. The previous repetitive chord progression changes. Now we have

GM - AM7 (an added C#) - Am7 (4/2 inversion) - GM

or I, II7, ii7, I

The “cou-cou” lands during the AM7 (the II7) and it lands EXACTLY on the note of B, extending the 7th chord to a ninth chord, before, on its second syllable, dropping to the A and holding there (a kind of suspension) while the chord progression resolves to the Am7 (ii7), making the A a chord tone. This is deliberate. Unless the whole piece was harmonically built around Camille’s random use of a B to A in a voicemail (also randomly in the perfect key for Harry’s voice) this was purposely recorded for aesthetic effect. I for one really love it, I could listen to breathy french girls mutter about beaches endlessly...

Falling: A straightforward progression. In the key of E Major,

EM - C#m - BM - AM or I, vi, V, IV

With Falling, the only ballade on the album, we see Harry shift from jealousy to self destructive behavior. I don’t believe the ‘wandering hands’ line is about cheating (he and Subject were already apart) but rather, Harry seeking to wound Subject by turning to others. Communication is back open, because Subject says they care, they miss him too, but now Harry’s gone and fucked it all up. What have I become? What if Subject never needs me again? I can’t unpack the baggage they left. I just want Subject AROUND! Harry isn’t even begging for a romantic connection, he’s simply begging for Subject’s presence. He was so sure he could discover himself in LU, and now he keeps asking, what am I now? Who has he become on his own? He’s falling, and there’s no one to catch him.

To Be So Lonely: This song waffles between two keys, just as Harry waffles between defending himself to Subject and finally, finally admitting (in just one small line) that he is, in fact, sorry. The song seems to start out in C Major, with CM and Am chords (I, iv) but then at the chorus the Am chord elides from a iv to a i, revealing the key is really A minor. The chorus goes on to be:

Am - GM - Em - FM

or i, VII (lowered leading tone in minor), v (lowered leading tone in minor), VI

A fluttering mandolin mimics a fluttering heartbeat, and a folk music lilt gives the song a certain feel of heartbreak.

Harry asks for Subject to not blame the drunk caller, likely himself. Harry was away. He missed Subject. He was just a little boy when he fell, and presumably Subject caught him that time. Subject is trying to be friends, they mean well, perhaps have taken pity on him, but Harry cannot stand to be called baby now, not when that name doesn’t mean what it used to, not when it’s a hollow word. Harry’s ‘home’ is suddenly a lonely place, but Subject has his reasons for how he’s acted, presumably good ones, and finally Harry gives his mea culpa, “this is it, so I’m sorry.”

Interestingly, only after admitting that he’s made mistakes too, that he’s not perfect, that he shares the blame, does Harry confront and open himself to the realization contained in the next song, the heart of the album and the crux of what Harry’s been dancing around up until this point.

She: In E minor, both verse and chorus use the same progression:

Em - DM - CM - Am - (Bm, a quick lead-in to) - Em

or i, II, VI, iv, v (no raised leading tone), i

This Bowie-esc sounding song is the first to have characters. In addition to the Subject (perennially addressed as ‘You’) there is The Man and She. I would argue The Man and She are both Harry, a duality. The man drops his kids off at school, the man is thinking of You, like all of us do (everyone thinks of their SO perhaps). The Man goes through mundane daily tasks, but is he faking it? Does he really know what to do? He’s playing pretend, so pretend.

Now Harry introduces She. (When speaking of She, Harry sings in a high falsetto.) She lives in daydreams, she is the first one he sees, and Harry doesn’t know who She is. A Woman just in his head, who sleeps in his (a jump up to the falsetto for just this one word in the verse) bed while he plays pretend. Much has been said about the gender/fluidity discovery in this song, and by better than me. It’s clear what Harry is saying, it’s clear what he’s going through and wrestling with. He’s thinking of Subject, but also haunted by She, in his head, in his mind’s eye, in his daydreams. She is a part of Harry, and Harry wants to know who She is.

Side C

Uncomplicated tonics! All Major! A shift into happiness perhaps?

Sunflower: F Major. BbM - FM - CM, or IV, I, V. The bridge is fancy:

iii, IV, V, vi, I, V vi, V (vi?) V

Some trippie hippie song from the 60s! Two lines of thought are apparent from the get go; Harry says he wants to get to know Subject, but then says “before I got to know you.” It’s as if this is a new beginning, like he and Subject are starting over. Much is made of the ‘seed’ thing, a metaphor for new life and rebirth, “plant new seeds in the melody.” Harry is trying hard not to talk to Subject, to not seem eager, not act a fool. He was just tongue tied, then he’s still tongue tied, implying he’s done this whole dance before. He implores Subject to hold their sweet memories: domestic times, kitchens, kids. In Golden, Subject was the sun. Now Subject is a sunflower, hung up high in the gallery, out of the shade, in the light a sunflower needs to thrive, into the light, step into the light. Little gasps from Harry interject throughout; is he surfacing from water (LU music video?), is he breathing between kisses, is he suddenly gifted new life like Gandalf atop Isengard? The end of the piece devolves into calls of unbridled, nonsensical joy, like birds song, like mating calls amongst brilliant plumage.

Canyon Moon: D Major. DM - GM - AM - DM (I, IV, V, I)

Bridge DM - (Em transit?) - AM - DM (I, (ii), V, I)

Chorus DM - AM - DM - GM (I, V6, I6, IV)

Perhaps the most straightforward tonic bound song of the album. Harry is missing Subject, but it’s a happy nostalgia now, a hopeful one, a “two weeks and I’ll be home.” Home is no longer a lonely place, like in TBSL. The world is happy waiting (there’s no rush? No need to have everything figured out?). “Doors yellow, broken, blue.” You can’t bribe the door on the way to the sky a sky where Harry’s Golden sun awaits him, and now the sky door is broken, busted through, that blue door to a blue sky that never looked so blue.

We get another glimpse of She here; Subject remains You, Harry remains Harry, but there’s also a She who plays old hippies’ love songs and pretends to know the words; perhaps this is another Camille reference for narrative purposes, but I lean more towards this being another reference to She as Harry, exploring odd new music he’s never heard, trying not to be so pretentious about it but failing. (He’s such an Aquarius.) Most charmingly of all, the single whistler becomes two by the end of the song.

Treat People With Kindness: F Major. This is the most interesting piece in terms of text painting.

We start with CM6 - FM, then FM6/4 - BbM, then back to CM6 - FM, then we hold on the Am chord, and then repeat the whole thing. So analyzed in F Major this would be V6, I, I6/4, IV, V6, I, iii.

But. By using the I6 to IV, Harry plays with the idea of a V of IV, where you take the IV chord of the key and pretend it has its own dominant (V) and use the V of IV not as the I chord normally is used, but as a Leading Tone chord to IV.

ALL THAT TO SAY. He’s illustrating the lyrics. During “Maybe we can find a place” the chords are playing with dual resolutions. Where is the actual tonic? Is it F Major or B Flat Major? It’s ambiguous! We don’t know! We haven’t found our place yet!

But then! The bridge. “And if we’re here long enough” and look where we land, on a CM chord, then BbM, then FM, a solid V, IV, I progression. And THEN (bless this boy) on the word belong we get the same A minor chord (the iii) but we get a 7th added to the chord, a G, and Harry holds this G in the melody (plant new seeds in the melody), a note that VERY MUCH DOES NOT BELONG because in no universe does a iii chord in Major have a 7th added! And Harry not only ADDS but draws attention to this note, this note that doesn’t belong!!! Then this iii7 chord resolves to C Major (V), making the G note a chord tone, making it BELONG, making it fit perfectly.

GOD. Weep with me.

This is Over the Rainbow. This is Hair, this is Age of Aquarius. Somewhere there’s a place we can belong and feel good and people will celebrate and rejoice in us, someday a new age will dawn.

Harry is plunging into the deep end, dreaming, caught up in his good feelings and his euphoria in being “given second chances.” He’s tentative about admitting reckless hope to Subject; instead he says, “Maybe we can find a place to feel good?” Harry says he doesn’t need all the answers. He said in LU “do you know who you are” then in Falling “What am I now?” then in She “I don't know who she is” and now he’s at peace. He feels good in his skin, and he will keep on dancing.

Most personally, I think the sudden somber turn of the line “If our friends all pass away” is in reference to grief. He’s speaking to Subject, but also to himself. It will be okay, okay, okay. Harry can’t control his life, he doesn’t have everything figured out, but he’s come to accept that.

Side D

Fine Line: D Major. We come full circle, returning to the use of only three chords like at the start of the album. This time, though, Harry resolves to tonic in a repetitive pattern used for both the verses and chorus:

Bm, GM7, DM6/4, or vi, IV7, I

FL is the summation of the album, the thesis statement, the conclusion of the journey. Harry has endured tests of patience, and accepted that there are things he’ll never know. He’s trying to shake off trepidation (of plunging in the deep end? Of hoping?). He says “My hand’s at risk, I fold.” The poker analogy is an interesting one; Subject (presumably) has gotten past Harry’s poker face, has sussed out his fronts and acts and strategies, and Harry is left bare and exposed, vulnerable before them. He’s been brought to this point, but willingly he folds. He laments that “spreading you open is the only way of knowing you.” We should open up before it’s all too much. Harry is done fighting. He’s also done sleeping in the dirt. For the first time he’s not sugar-coating his words, avoiding their problems via sex and pretense and flowery language. He’s matured enough to admit, “Man, I hate you sometimes.”

Again we have the reappearance of She. Harry says to Subject, “We’ll get the drinks in, so I’ll get to thinking of her.” This She is something between them, within them now, another facet of his and Subject’s relationship. Harry is going to spend time thinking of Her. She, I believe, is a part of him.

A fine line is a balancing act, a tightrope, a suspension between extremes. But Harry calls out into the echo of the music, “We’ll be alright.” A declaration, a hope, a promise. Brass, strings, and a building crescendo, a cacophony of movie-credit-worthy emotion, sweeps us towards closure. Ethereal voices fade out, moving from dominant to tonic, but then a solitary piano plinks on a V chord, twice, hanging in the air, a question, an invitation, a hope.

#fine line #masterpost #musical analysis #HS2 #Harry Styles #lyric interpretation #theories #opinions #Golden #Watermelon Sugar #Adore You #Light Up #Cherry #Falling #To Be So Lonely #She #Sunflower #Canyon Moon #Treat People With Kindness

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church-history · 4 years ago

Text

Iniquis Afflictisque:

Papal Encyclical On the Persecution of the Church in Mexico

Pope Pius XI - 1926

To the Venerable Brethren, the Patriarchs, Primates, Archbishops, Bishops, and other Ordinaries in Peace and Communion with the Apostolic See.

In speaking to the Sacred College of Cardinals at the Consistory of last December, We pointed out that there existed no hope or possibility of relief from the sad and unjust conditions under which the Catholic religion exists today in Mexico except it be by a “special act of Divine Mercy.” You, Venerable Brothers, did not delay to make your own and approve Our convictions and Our wishes in this regard, made known to you on so many occasions, for by every means within your power you urged all the faithful committed to your pastoral care to implore by instant prayers the Divine Founder of the Church that He bring some relief from the heavy burden of these great evils.

2. We designedly use the words “the heavy burden of these great evils” for certain of Our children, deserters from the army of Jesus Christ and enemies of the Common Father of all, have ordered and are continuing up to the present hour a cruel persecution against their own brethren, Our most beloved children of Mexico. If in the first centuries of our era and at other periods in history Christians were treated in a more barbarous fashion than now, certainly in no place or at no time has it happened before that a small group of men has so outraged the rights of God and of the Church as they are now doing in Mexico, and this without the slightest regard for the past glories of their country, with no feelings of pity for their fellow-citizens. They have also done away with the liberties of the majority and in such a clever way that they have been able to clothe their lawless actions with the semblance of legality.

3. Naturally, We do not wish that either you or the faithful should fail to receive from Us a solemn testimonial of Our gratitude for the prayers which, according to Our intention were poured forth in private and at public functions. It is most important, too, that these prayers which have been so powerful an aid to Us should be continued, and even increased, with renewed fervor. It is assuredly not in the power of man to control the course of events or of history, nor can he direct them as he may desire to the welfare of society by changing either the minds or hearts of his fellow-men. Such action, however, is well within the power of God, for He without doubt can put an end, if He so desires, to persecutions of this kind. Nor must you conclude, Venerable Brothers, that all your prayers have been in vain simply because the Mexican Government, impelled by its fanatical hatred of religion, continued to enforce more harshly and violently from day to day its unjust laws. The truth is that the clergy and the great majority of the faithful have been so strengthened in their longsuffering resistance to these laws by such an abundant shower of divine grace that they have been enabled thereby to give a glorious example of heroism. They have justly merited, too, that We, in a solemn document executed by Our Apostolic authority, should make known this fortitude to the whole Catholic world.

4. Last month on the occasion of the beatification of many martyrs of the French Revolution, spontaneously the Catholics of Mexico came to Our thoughts, for they, like those martyrs, have remained firm in their resolution to resist in all patience the unreasonable behests and commands of their persecutors rather than cut themselves off from the unity of the Church or refuse obedience to this Apostolic See. Marvelous indeed is the glory of the Divine Spouse of Christ who, through the course of the centuries, can depend, without fail, upon a brave and generous offspring ever ready to suffer prisons, stripes, and even death itself for the holy liberty of the Church!

5. It is scarcely necessary, Venerable Brothers, to go back very far in order to narrate the sad calamities which have fallen upon the Church of Mexico. It is sufficient to recall that the frequent revolutions of modern times have ended in the majority of cases in trials for the Church and persecutions of religion. Both in 1914 and in 1915 men who seemed veritably inspired by the barbarism of former days persecuted the clergy, both secular and regular, and the sisters. They rose up against holy places and every object used in divine worship and so ferocious were they that no injury, no ignominy, no violence was too great to satisfy their persecuting mania.

6. Referring now to certain notorious facts concerning which We have already raised Our voice in solemn protest and which even the daily press recorded at great length, there is no need to take up much space in telling you of certain deplorable events which occurred even in the very recent past with reference to Our Apostolic Delegates to Mexico. Without the slightest regard for justice, for solemn promises given, or for humanity itself, one of these Apostolic Delegates was driven out of the country; another, who because of illness had left the Republic for a short time, was forbidden to return, and the third was also treated in a most unfriendly manner and forced to leave. Surely there is no one who cannot understand that such acts as these, committed against illustrious personages who were both ready and willing to bring about peace, must be construed as a great affront to their dignity as Archbishops, to the high office which they filled, and particularly to Our authority which they represented.

7. Unquestionably the events just cited are grave and deplorable. But the examples of despotic power which We will now pass in review, Venerable Brothers, are beyond all compare, contrary to the rights of the Church, and most injurious as well to the Catholics of Mexico.

8. In the first place, let us examine the law of 1917, known as the “Political Constitution” of the federated republic of Mexico. For our present purposes it is sufficient to point out that after declaring the separation of Church and State the Constitution refuses to recognize in the Church, as if she were an individual devoid of any civil status, all her existing rights and interdicts to her the ac quisition of any rights whatsoever in the future. The civil authority is given the right to interfere in matters of divine worship and in the external discipline of the Church. Priests are put on the level of professional men and of laborers but with this important difference, that they must be not only Mexicans by birth and cannot exceed a certain number specified by law, but are at the same time deprived of all civil and political rights. They are thus placed in the same class with criminals and the insane. Moreover, priests not only must inform the civil authorities but also a commission of ten citizens whenever they take possession of a church or are transferred to another mission. The vows of religious, religious orders, and religious congregations are outlawed in Mexico. Public divine worship is forbidden unless it take place within the confines of a church and is carried on under the watchful eye of the Government. All church buildings have been declared the property of the state. Episcopal residences, diocesan offices, seminaries, religious houses, hospitals, and all charitable institutions have been taken away from the Church and handed over to the state. As a matter of fact, the Church can no longer own property of any kind. Everything that it possessed at the period when this law was passed has now become the property of the state. Every citizen, moreover, has the right to denounce before the law any person whom he thinks is holding in his own name property for the Church. All that is required in order to make such action legal is a mere presumption of guilt. Priests are not allowed by law to inherit property of any kind except it be from persons closely related to them by blood. With reference to marriage, the power of the Church is not recognized. Every marriage between Catholics is considered valid if contracted validly according to the prescriptions of the civil code.

9. Education has been declared free, but with these important restrictions: both priests and religious are forbidden to open or to conduct elementary schools. It is not permitted to teach children their religion even in a private school. Diplomas or degrees conferred by private schools under control of the Church possess no legal value and are not recognized by the state. Certainly, Venerable Brothers, the men who originated, approved, and gave their sanction to such a law either are totally ignorant of what rights pertain jure divino to the Church as a perfect society, established as the ordinary means of salvation for mankind by Jesus Christ, Our Redeemer and King, to which He gave the full liberty of fulfilling her mission on earth (such ignorance seems incredible today after twenty centuries of Christianity and especially in a Catholic nation and among men who have been baptized, unless in their pride and foolishness they believe themselves able to undermine and destroy the “House of the Lord which has been solidly constructed and strongly built on the living rock”) or they have been motivated by an insane hatred to attempt anything within their power in order to harm the Church. How was it possible for the Archbishops and Bishops of Mexico to remain silent in the face of such odious laws?

10. Immediately after their publication the hierarchy of Mexico protested in kind but firm terms against these laws, protests which Our Immediate Predecessor ratified, which were approved as well by the whole hierarchies of other countries, as well as by a great majority of individual bishops from all over the world, and which finally were confimed even by Us in a letter of consolation of the date of the second of February, 1926, which We addressed to the Bishops of Mexico. The Bishops hoped that those in charge of the Government, after the first outburst of hatred, would have appreciated the damage and danger which would accrue to the vast majority of the people from the enforcement of those articles of the Constitution restrictive of the liberty of the Church and that, therefore, out of a desire to preserve peace they would not insist on enforcing these articles to the letter, or would enforce them only up to a certain point, thus leaving open the possibility of a modus vivendi, at least for the time being.

11. In spite of the extreme patience exhibited in these circumstances by both the clergy and laity, an attitude which was the result of the Bishops’ exhorting them to moderation in all things, every hope of a return to peace and tranquillity was dissipated, and this as a direct result of the law promulgated by the President of the Republic on the second of July, 1926, by virtue of which practically no liberty at all was left the Church. As a matter of fact, the Church was barely allowed to exist. The exercise of the sacred ministry was hedged about by the severest penalties as if it were a crime worthy of capital punishment. It is difficult, Venerable Brothers, to express in language how such perversion of civil authority grieves Us. For whosoever reveres, as all must, God the Creator and Our Beloved Redeemer, whosoever will obey the laws of Holy Mother Church, such a man, We repeat, such a man is looked on as a malefactor, as guilty of a crime; such a man is considered fit only to be deprived of all civil rights; such a man can be thrown into prison along with other criminals. With what justice can We apply to the authors of these enormities the words which Jesus Christ spoke to the leaders of the Jews: “This is your hour, and the power of darkness.” (Luke xxii, 53)

12. The most recent law which has been promulgated as merely an interpretation of the Constitution is as a matter of fact much worse than the original law itself and makes the enforcement of the Constitution much more severe, if not almost intolerable. The President of the Republic and the members of his ministry have insisted with such ferocity on the enforcement of these laws that they do not permit the governors of the different states of the Confederation, the civil authorities, or the military commanders to mitigate in the least the rigors of the persecution of the Catholic Church. Insult, too, is added to persecution. Wicked men have tried to place the Church in a bad light before the people; some, for example, uttering the most brazen lies in public assemblies. But when a Catholic tries to answer them, he is prevented from speaking by catcalls and personal insults hurled at his head. Others use hostile newspapers in order to obscure the truth and to malign “Catholic Action.”

13. If, at the beginning of the persecution, Catholics were able to make a defense of their religion in the public press by means of articles which made clear the truth and answered the lies and errors of their enemies, it is now no longer permitted these citizens, who love their country just as much as other citizens do, to raise their voices in protest. As a matter of fact, they are not even allowed to express their sorrow over the injuries done to the Faith of their fathers and to the liberty of divine worship. We, however, moved profoundly as We are by the consciousness of the duties imposed upon Us by our Apostolic office, will cry out to heaven, Venerable Brothers, so that the whole Catholic world may hear from the lips of the Common Father of all the story of the insane tyranny of the enemies of the Church, on the one hand, and on the other that of the heroic virtue and constancy of the bishops, priests, religious congregations, and laity ot Mexico.

14. All foreign priests and religious men have been expelled from the country. Schools for the religious education of boys and girls have been closed, either because they are known publicly under a religious name or because they happen to possess a statue or some other religious object. Many seminaries likewise, schools, insane asylums, convents, institutions connected with churches have been closed. In practically all the states of the Republic the number of priests who may exercise the sacred ministry has been limited and fixed at the barest minimum. Even these latter are not allowed to exercise their sacred office unless they have beforehand registered with the civil authorities and have obtained permission from them so to function. In certain sections of the country restrictions have been placed on the ministry of priests which, if they were not so sad, would be laughable in the extreme. For example, certain regulations demand that priests must be of an age fixed by law, that they must be civilly married, and they are not allowed to baptize except with flowing water. In one of the states of the Confederation it has been decreed that only one bishop is permitted to live within the territory of said state, by reason of which law two other bishops were constrained to exile themselves from their dioceses. Moreover, because of circumstances imposed upon them by law, some bishops have had to leave their diocese, others have been forced to appear before the courts, several were arrested, and practically all the others live from day to day in imminent danger of being arrested.

15. Again, every Mexican citizen who is engaged in the education of children or of youth, or holds any public office whatsoever, has been ordered to make known publicly whether he accepts the policies of the President and approves of the war which is now being waged on the Catholic Church. The majority of these same individuals were forced, under threat of losing their positions, to take part, together with the army and laboring men, in a parade sponsored by the Regional Confederation of the Workingmen of Mexico, a socialist organization. This parade took place in Mexico City and in other towns of the Republic on the same day. It was followed by impious speeches to the populace. The whole procedure was organized to obtain, by means of these public outcries and the applause of those who took part in it, and by heaping all kinds of abuse on the Church, popular approval of the acts of the President.

16. But the cruel exercise of arbitrary power on the part of the enemies of the Church has not stopped at these acts. Both men and women who defended the rights of the Church and the cause of religion, either in speeches or by distributing leaflets and pamphlets, were hurried before the courts and sent to prison. Again, whole colleges of canons were rushed off to jail, the aged being carried there in their beds. Priests and laymen have been cruelly put to death in the very streets or in the public squares which front the churches. May God grant that the responsible authors of so many grave crimes return soon to their better selves and throw themselves in sorrow and with true contrition on the divine mercy; We are convinced that this is the noble revenge on their murderers which Our children who have been so unjustly put to death are now asking from God.

17. We think it well at this point, Venerable Brothers, to review for you in a few words how the bishops, priests, and faithful of Mexico have organized resistance and “set up a wall for the House of Israel, to stand in battle.” (Ezech. xiii, 5)

18. There cannot be the slightest doubt of the fact that the Mexican hierarchy have unitedly used every means within their power to defend the liberty and good name of the Church. In the first place, they indited a joint pastoral letter to their people in which they proved beyond cavil that the clergy had always acted toward the rulers of the Republic motivated by a love for peace, with prudence and in all patience; that they had even suffered, in a spirit of almost too much tolerance, laws which were unjust; they admonished the faithful, outlining the divine constitution of the Church, that they, too, must always persevere in their religion, in such a way that they shall “obey God rather than men” (Acts v, 19) on every occasion when anyone tries to impose on them laws which are no less contrary to the very idea of law and do not merit the name of law, as they are inimical to the constitution and existence itself of the Church.

19. When the President of the Republic had promulgated his untimely and unjust decree of interpretation of the Constitution, by means of another joint pastoral letter the Bishops protested and pointed out that to accept such a law was nothing less than to desert the Church and hand her over a slave to the civil authorities. Even if this had been done, it was apparent to all that such an act would neither satisfy her persecutors nor stop them in the pursuit of their nefarious intentions. The Bishops in such circumstances preferred to put an end to public religious functions. Therefore, they ordered the complete suspension of every act of public worship which cannot take place without the presence of the clergy, in all the churches of their diocese, beginning the last day of July, on which day the law in question went into effect. Moreover, since the civil authorities had ordered that all the churches must be turned over to the care of laymen, chosen by the mayors of the different municipalities, and could not be held in any manner whatsoever by those who were named or designated for such an office by the bishops or priests, which act transferred the possessions of the churches from the ecclesiastical authority to that of the state, the Bishops practically everywhere interdicted the faithful from accepting a place on such committees bestowed on them by the Government and even from entering a church which was no longer under the control of the Church. In some dioceses, due to difference of time and place, other arrangements were made.

20. In spite of all this, do not think, Venerable Brothers, that the Mexican hierarchy lost any opportunity or occasion by means of which they might do their part in calming popular feelings and bringing about concord despite the fact that they distrusted, or it would be better perhaps to say despaired of, a happy outcome to all these troubles. It is sufficient to recall in this context that the Bishops of Mexico City, who act in the capacity of procurators for their colleagues, wrote a very courteous and respectful letter to the President of the Republic in the interests of the Bishops of Huejutla, who had been arrested in a most outrageous manner and with a great display of armed force, and had been ordered taken to the city of Pachuca. The President replied to this letter by means of a hateful angry screed, a fact now become notorious. Again, when it happened that certain personages, lovers of peace, had spontaneously intervened so as to bring about a conversation between the President and the Archbishop of Morelia and the Bishop of Tabasco, the parties in question talked together for a long time and on many subjects, but with no results. Again, the Bishops debated whether they should ask the House of Representatives for the abrogation of those laws which were against the rights of the Church or if they should continue, as before, their so-called passive resistance to these laws. As a matter of fact, there existed many good reasons which seemed to them to render useless the presentation of such a petition to Congress. However, they did present the petition, which was written by Catholics quite capable of doing so because of their knowledge of law, every word of which was, moreover, weighed by the Bishops themselves with the utmost care. To this petition of the hierarchy there was added, due to the zealous efforts of the members of the Federation for the Defense of Religious Liberty, about which organization We shall have something to say later on in this letter, a great number of signatures of citizens, both men and women.

21. The Bishops had not been wrong in their anticipations of what would take place. Congress rejected the proposed petition almost unanimously, only one voting in favor of it, and the reason they alleged for this act was that the Bishops had been deprived of juridical personality, since they had already appealed in this matter to the Pope and therefore they had proven themselves unwilling to acknowledge the laws of Mexico. Such being the facts, what remained for the Bishops to do if not to decide that, until these unjust laws had been repealed, neither they nor the faithful would change in the slightest the policy which they had adopted? The civil authorities of Mexico, abusing both their power and the really remarkable patience of the people, are now in a position to menace the clergy and the Mexican people with even more severe punishments than those already inflicted. But how are we to overcome and conquer men of this type who are committed to the use of every type of infamy, unless we are willing, as they insist, to conclude an agreement with them which cannot but injure the sacred cause of the liberty of the Church?

22. The clergy have imitated the truly wonderful example of constancy given them by the Bishops and have themselves in turn given no less brilliant an example of fortitude through all the tedious changes of the great conflict. This example of extraordinary virtue on their part has been a great comfort to Us. We have made it known to the whole Catholic world and We praise them because “they are worthy.” (Apoc. iii, 4) And in this special context, when We recall that every imaginable artifice was employed, that all the power and vexatious tactics of our adversaries had but one purpose, to alienate both the clergy and people from their allegiance to the hierarchy and to this Apostolic See, and that despite all this only one or two priests, from among the four thousand, betrayed in a shameful manner their holy office, it certainly seems to Us that there is nothing which We cannot hope for from the Mexican clergy.

23. As a matter of fact, We behold these priests standing shoulder to shoulder, obedient and respectful to the commands of their prelates despite the fact that to obey means in the majority of cases serious dangers for themselves, for they must live from their holy office, and since they are poor and do not themselves possess anything and the Church cannot support them, they are obliged to live bravely in poverty and in misery; they must say Mass in private; they must do all within their power to provide for the spiritual needs of their flocks, to keep alive and increase the flame of piety in those round about them; moreover, by their example, counsels and exhortations, they must lift the thoughts of their fellow citizens to the highest ideals and strengthen their wills so that they, too, will persevere in their passive resistance. Is it any wonder, then, that the wrath and blind hatred of our enemies are directed principally and before all else against the priesthood? The clergy, on their side, have not hesitated to go to prison when ordered, and even to face death itself with serenity and courage. We have heard recently of something which surpasses anything as yet perpetrated under the guise of these wicked laws, and which, as a matter of fact, sounds the very depths of wickedness, for We have learned that certain priests were suddenly set upon while celebrating Mass in their own homes or in the homes of friends, that the Blessed Eucharist was outraged in the basest manner, and the priests themselves carried off to prison.

24. Nor can We praise enough the courageous faithful of Mexico who have understood only too well how important it is for them that a Catholic nation in matters so serious and holy as the worship of God, the liberty of the Church, and the eternal salvation of souls should not depend upon the arbitrary will and audacious acts of a few men, but should be governed under the mercy of God only by laws which are just, which are conformable to natural, divine, and ecclesiastical law.

25. A word of very special praise is due those Catholic organizations, which during all these trying times have stood like soldiers side to side with the clergy. The members of these organiza tions, to the limit of their power, not only have made provisions to maintain and assist their clergy financially, they also watch over and take care of the churches, teach catechism to the children, and like sentinels stand guard to warn the clergy when their ministrations are needed so that no one may be deprived of the help of the priest. What We have just written is true of all these organizations. We wish, however, to say a word in particular about the principal organizations, so that each may know that it is highly ap proved and even praised by the Vicar of Jesus Christ.

26. First of all We mention the Knights of Columbus, an organization which is found in all the states of the Republic and which fortunately is made up of active and industrious members who, because of their practical lives and open profession of the Faith, as well as by their zeal in assisting the Church, have brought great honor upon themselves. This organization promotes two types of activites which are needed now more than ever. In the first place, the National Sodality of Fathers of Families, the program of which is to give a Catholic education to their own children, to protect the rights of Christian parents with regard to education, and in cases where children attend the public schools to provide for them a sound and complete training in their religion. Secondly, the Federation for the Defense of Religious Liberty, which was recently organized when it became clear as the noonday sun that the Church was menaced by a veritable ocean of troubles. This Federation soon spread to all parts of the Republic. Its members attempted, working in harmony and with assiduity, to organize and instruct Catholics so that they would be able to present a united invincible front to the enemy.

27. No less deserving of the Church and the fatherland as the Knights of Columbus have been and still are, We mention two other organizations, each of which has, following its own program, a special relation to what is known as “Catholic Social Action.” One is the Catholic Society of Mexican Youth, and the other, the Union of Catholic Women of Mexico. These two sodalities, over and above the work which is special to each of them, promote and do all they can to have others promote the activities of the above-mentioned Federation for the Defense of Religious Liberty. Without going into details about their work, with pleasure We desire to call to your attention, Venerable Brothers, but a single fact, namely, that all the members of these organizations, both men and women, are so brave that, instead of fleeing danger, they go out in search of it, and even rejoice when it falls to their share to suffer persecution from the enemies of the Church. What a beautiful spectacle this, that is thus given to the world, to angels, and to men! How worthy of eternal praise are such deeds! As a matter of fact, as We have pointed out above, many individuals, members either of the Knights of Columbus, or officers of the Federation, of the Union of Catholic Women of Mexico, or of the Society of Mexican Youth, have been taken to prison handcuffed, through the public streets, surrounded by armed soldiers, locked up in foul jails, harshly treated, and punished with prison sentences or fines. Moreover, Venerable Brothers, and in narrating this We can scarcely keep back Our tears, some of these young men and boys have gladly met death, the rosary in their hands and the name of Christ King on their lips. Young girls, too, who were imprisoned, were criminally outraged, and these acts were deliberately made public in order to intimidate other young women and to cause them the more easily to fail in their duty toward the Church.

28. No one, surely, Venerable Brothers, can hazard a prediction or foresee in imagination the hour when the good God will bring to an end such calamities. We do know this much: The day will come when the Church of Mexico will have respite from this veritable tempest of hatred, for the reason that, according to the words of God “there is no wisdom, there is no prudence, there is no counsel against the Lord” (Prov. xxi, 30) and “the gates of hell shall not prevail” (Matt. xvi, 18) against the Spotless Bride of Christ.

29. The Church which, from the day of Pentecost, has been destined here below to a never-ending life, which went forth from the upper chamber into the world endowed with the gifts and inspirations of the Holy Spirit, what has been her mission during the last twenty centuries and in every country of the world if not, after the example of her Divine Founder, “to go about doing good”? (Acts x, 38) Certainly this work of the Church should have gained for her the love of all men; unfortunately the very contrary has happend as her Divine Master Himself predicted (Matt. x, 17, 25) would be the case. At times the bark of Peter, favored by the winds, goes happily forward; at other times it appears to be swallowed up by the waves and on the point of being lost. Has not this ship always aboard the Divine Pilot who knows when to calm the angry waves and the winds? And who is it but Christ Himself Who alone is all-powerful, who brings it about that every persecution which is launched against the faithful should react to the lasting benefit of the Church? As St. Hilary writes, “it is a prerogative of the Church that she is the vanquisher when she is persecuted, that she captures our intellects when her doctrines are questioned, that she conquers all at the very moment when she is abandoned by all.” (St. Hilary of Poitiers De Trinitate, Bk. VII, No. 4)

30. If those men who now in Mexico persecute their brothers and fellowcitizens for no other reason than that these latter are guilty of keeping the laws of God, would only recall to memory and consider dispassionately the vicissitudes of their country as history reveals them to us, they must recognize and publicly confess that whatever there is of progress, of civilization, of the good and the beautiful, in their country is due solely to the Catholic Church. In fact every man knows that after the introduction of Christianity into Mexico, the priests and religious especially, who are now being persecuted with such cruelty by an ungrateful government, worked without rest and despite all the obstacles placed in their way, on the one hand by the colonists who were moved by greed for gold and on the other by the natives who were still barbarians, to promote greatly in those vast regions both the splendor of the worship of God and the benefits of the Catholic religion, works and institutions of charity, schools and colleges for the education of the people and their instruction in letters, the sciences, both sacred and profane, in the arts and the crafts.

31. One thing more remains for Us to do, Venerable Brothers, namely, to pray and implore Our Lady of Guadalupe, heavenly patroness of the Mexican people, that she pardon all these injuries and especially those which have been committed against her, that she ask of God that peace and concord may return to her people. And if, in the hidden designs of God that day which We so greatly desire is far distant, may she in the meantime console her faithful children of Mexico and strengthen them in their resolve to maintain their liberty by the profession of their Faith.

32. In the meanwhile, as an augury of the grace of God and as proof of Our fatherly love, We bestow from Our heart on you, Venerable Brothers, and especially on those bishops who rule the Church of Mexico, on all your clergy and your people, the Apostolic Blessing.

Given at Rome, at St. Peter’s, on the eighteenth day of November, in the year 1926, the fifth of Our Pontificate.

#catholic #catholic history #pope pius xi #mexico #cristero war #papal encyclical

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Text

Tafsir Ibn Kathir: Surah Ad-Duha Ayah 1-11

Revealed in Makkah

In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

1 By the forenoon.

2 By the night when it darkens.

3 Your Lord has neither forsaken you nor hates you.

4 And indeed the Hereafter is better for you than the present.

5 And verily, your Lord will give you so that you shall be well-pleased.

6 Did He not find you an orphan and gave you a refuge?

7 And He found you unaware and guided you.

8 And He found you poor and made you rich.

9 Therefore, treat not the orphan with oppression.

10 And repulse not the one who asks.

11 And proclaim the grace of your Lord.

The Reason for the Revelation of Surah Ad-Duha

Imam Ahmad recorded from Jundub that he said,

"The Prophet became ill, so he did not stand for prayer for a night or two. Then a woman came and said, `O Muhammad! I think that your devil has finally left you.'

So Allah revealed, By the forenoon.

By the night when it darkens.

Your Lord has neither forsaken you nor hates you.

Al-Bukhari, Muslim, At-Tirmidhi, An-Nasa'i, Ibn Abi Hatim and Ibn Jarir, all recorded this Hadith.

This Jundub (who narrated it) is Ibn `Abdullah Al-Bajali Al-`Alaqi. In a narration from Al-Aswad bin Qays, he said that he heard Jundub say that Jibril was slow in coming to the Messenger of Allah . So the idolators said, "Muhammad's Lord has abandoned him.''

So Allah revealed,

By the forenoon. By the night when it darkens. Your Lord has neither forsaken you nor hates you.

Al-`Awfi reported from Ibn Abbas, "When the Qur'an was revealed to the Messenger of Allah, Jibril was delayed from coming to him for a number of days (on one occasion). Therefore, the Messenger of Allah was affected by this. Then the idolators began to say, `His Lord has abandoned him and hates him.' So Allah revealed, Your Lord has neither forsaken you nor hates you.''

In this, Allah is swearing by the forenoon and the light that He has placed in it. By the night when it darkens (Saja).

meaning, it settles, darkens and overcomes them.

This was said by Mujahid, Qatadah, Ad-Dahhak, Ibn Zayd and others. This is a clear proof of the power of the Creator of this (light) and that (darkness).

This is as Allah says,

By the night as it envelops. By the Day as it appears. (92:1-2)

Allah also says,

(He is the) Cleaver of the daybreak. He has appointed the night for resting, and the sun and the moon for reckoning. Such is the measuring of the Almighty, the All-Knowing. (6:96)

Allah then says, Your Lord has neither forsaken you, meaning, `He has not abandoned you.'

nor hates (Qala) you. meaning, `He does not hate you.'

The Hereafter is Better Than This First Life

And indeed the Hereafter is better for you than the present.

meaning, the abode of the Hereafter is better for you than this current abode.

For this reason the Messenger of Allah used to be the most abstinent of the people concerning the worldly things, and he was the greatest of them in his disregard for worldly matters. This is well known by necessity from his biography. When the Prophet was given the choice at the end of his life between remaining in this life forever and then going to Paradise, or moving on to the company of Allah, he chose that which is with Allah over this lowly world. Imam Ahmad recorded that Abdullah bin Mas`ud said,

"The Messenger of Allah was lying down on a straw mat and it left marks on his side. Then when he woke up he began to rub his side. So I said, `O Messenger of Allah! Will you allow us to spread something soft over this straw mat'

He replied,

I have nothing to do with this world. The parable of me and this world is like a rider who rests in the shade of a tree, then he passes on and leaves it.''

At-Tirmidhi and Ibn Majah both recorded this Hadith by way of Al-Mas`udi. At-Tirmidhi said, "Hasan Sahih.''

The Numerous Bounties of the Hereafter are waiting for the Messenger of Allah

Then Allah says,

And verily, your Lord will give you so that you shall be well-pleased.

meaning, in the final abode Allah will give him until He pleases him concerning his followers, and in that which He has prepared for him from His generosity.

From this will be the River of Al-Kawthar, which will have domes of hollowed pearls on its banks, and the mud on its banks will be the strongest fragrance of musk, as will be mentioned.

Imam Abu `Amr Al-Awza`i recorded that Ibn `Abbas said,

"The Messenger of Allah was shown that which his Ummah would be blessed with after him, treasure upon treasure. So he was pleased with that. Then Allah revealed, (And verily, your Lord will give you so that you shall be wellpleased). So, Allah will give him in Paradise one million palaces, and each palace will contain whatever he wishes of wives and servants.''

This was recorded by Ibn Jarir and Ibn Abi Hatim from his route of transmission. This chain of narration is authentic to Ibn `Abbas, and statements like this can only be said from that which is Tawqif.

A Mention of some of Allah's Favors upon the Messenger Enumerating His Favours upon His Messenger, Muhammad

Allah says;

Did He not find you an orphan and gave you a refuge?

This refers to the fact that

- his father died while his mother was still pregnant with him,

- and his mother, Aminah bint Wahb died when he was only six years old.

- After this he was under the guardianship of his grandfather, Abdul-Muttalib, until he died when Muhammad was eight years old.

- Then his uncle, Abu Talib took responsibility for him and continued to protect him, assist him, elevate his status, honor him, and even restrain his people from harming him.

When he was forty years of age and Allah commissioned him with the Prophethood. Even with this, Abu Talib continued to follow the religion of his people, worshipping idols. All of this took place by the divine decree of Allah and His decree is most excellent. Until Abu Talib died a short time before the Hijrah.

After this (Abu Talib's death) the foolish and ignorant people of the Quraysh began to attack him, so Allah chose for him to migrate away from them to the city of Al-Aws and Al-Khazraj among those who helped him (in Al-Madinah). Allah caused his Sunnah to be spread in the most perfect and complete manner. Then, when he arrived at their city, they gave him shelter, supported him, defended him and fought before him (against the enemies of Islam) -- may Allah be pleased with all of them. All of this was from Allah's protection for him, guarding over him and caring for him.

Then Allah says,

He found you unaware and guided you.

This is similar to Allah's saying, And thus We have sent to you a Ruh from Our command. you knew not what is the Book, nor what is Faith. But We have made it a light wherewith We guide whosoever of our servants We will... (42:52)

Allah says,

And He found you poor and made you rich.

meaning, `you were poor having dependents, so Allah made you wealthy and independent of all others besides Him.'

Thus, Allah combined for him the two positions:

- the one who is poor and patient,

- and the one who is wealthy and thankful.

In the Two Sahihs it has been recorded from Abu Hurayrah that the Messenger of Allah said,

Wealth is not determined by abundance of possessions, but wealth is the richness of the soul.

In Sahih Muslim, it is recorded from Abdullah bin Amr that the Messenger of Allah said,

Whoever accepts Islam, is provided with his basic needs, and Allah makes him content with what He has given him, then he will be successful.

How should this Bounty be responded to

Then Allah says,

Therefore, treat not the orphan with oppression. meaning, `just as you were an orphan and Allah sheltered you, then do not oppress the orphan.'

In other words, `do not humiliate him, scorn him or despise him.

Rather, you should be kind and gentle to him.'

Qatadah said, "Be like a merciful father to the orphan.''

And repulse not the one who asks.

meaning, `just as you were astray and Allah guided you, then do not scorn the one who asks for knowledge seeking to be guided.'

Ibn Ishaq said, (And repulse not the one who asks).

"This means do not be oppressive, arrogant, wicked, or mean to the weak among Allah's servants.''

Qatadah said,

"This means respond to the poor with mercy and gentleness.''

And proclaim the grace of your Lord.

meaning, `just as you were poor and needy, and Allah made you wealthy, then tell about Allah's favor upon you.'

Abu Dawud recorded from Abu Hurayrah that the Prophet said,

Whoever is not thankful to the people, then he is not thankful to Allah.

At-Tirmidhi also recorded this Hadith and he said, "Sahih''.

Abu Dawud recorded from Jabir that the Prophet said,

Whoever overcomes some test (i.e., calamity) and mentions it (to others), then he is indeed thankful. And whoever conceals it, then indeed he was ungrateful.

Abu Dawud was alone in recording this Hadith.

This is the end of the Tafsir of Surah Ad-Duha, and unto Allah is due all praise and thanks.

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angst-fairygodmother · 5 years ago

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Sing Once Again With Me: Angel of Music (The Witcher; A Phantom of the Opera AU)

A/N: This being an AU, obviously, some details will change. Otherwise, I’d just be retelling POTO with substituted names and that’s not what we’re here for. Big change number 1: at no point in the story does Jaskier believe that the being that is stalking him/has expressed a romantic/sexual interest in him is the ghost of his father. It’s creepy. It makes me uncomfortable. It’s a metaphor now. Word Count: 1840 Content Warnings: Mild reference to depression? Taglist: @joz-stankovich @hermeowyn @sennextheassasinkingoflight Previous Chapter: Think of Me Cross-posted to AO3: here

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“Jaskier?” Y/N breathed, not wanting to break her best friend’s quiet contemplation.

He was tucked in a small unused part of the music hall’s dormitory, a room that she was fairly sure used to be a chapel but was now empty even of old props and other stored things. His knees were tucked up to his chin, his lute on the narrow window sill, and he seemed to be contemplating a single, flickering candle.

“That was incredible,” she said, kneeling beside him carefully.

Finally he looked up at her with a small smile.

“Truly,” she pressed, seeing the uncertainty behind his sky blue eyes. “You were perfect. I just wish I knew who he was.”

Jaskier raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Your mysterious teacher that Yenna hinted at. Has she been portalling you out to some great lutenist somewhere? Please won’t you tell me?”

He shook his head, eyes falling back to the candle. “You’ll think it’s silly.”

“I promise I won’t. When have I ever laughed at you when you weren’t laughing too?”

He took a deep breath, turning to her, their faces close enough that he barely had to speak to be heard.

“I don’t think he’s real,” Jaskier whispered.

“What?”

“My ‘tutor’ as Yennefer put it. It’s not possible for him to be real. Not like we’re real.”

Y/N frowned, giving her friend a puzzled look.

“My grandfather used to be a minstrel, before he married. Actually, he’s the one who taught me at first. He used to tell me stories about this spirit that came to him, and how it possessed him and filled him with music.”

“And you think that you’ve been taking lessons from what? The same spirit?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know if it’s the same spirit exactly. But when he was on his deathbed my grandfather told me never to turn aside my muse, that it would always be there and would get me through my darkest times, my guardian angel,” Jaskier plucked at a loose thread on his costume pants. “You remember how I was when I came here. I was empty. I had nothing left but a gaping hole in my heart.”

Y/N nodded. It had been heartbreaking to see this trembling, lost soul curled up on his bed in the dormitories at all times of day and night, always looking like he had lost something so great that the grief would consume him. It had taken weeks to get him to even care for himself properly, months to cajole him to coming to a practice. When she’d found him in this very room the first time, strumming reverently on the lute which had lay in the chest at the end of his bed for so long, she had lingered in the doorway, not wanting to give herself up and scare him back into himself. That had been the first day they truly met and the beginning of their sibling-like friendship.

Jaskier smiled, knowing the look in her eye and gently poked the end of her nose to recapture her attention. She wrinkled her nose at him with a giggle and an apology.

“As I was saying,” he gave her a pointed look, “I had never felt so low, so hopeless and worthless. And then one night, I heard a voice, calling out to me. I answered; I had nothing to lose after all. It was the angel of music that my grandfather spoke of, I’m sure of it. He was so kind to me, guiding me out of my own misery, teaching me, helping me, supporting me. He has been ever since.”

“So you’re saying that the reason you’ve become an unfairly good musician, even better than you were to begin with, is just…because of your muse? Or some mysterious spirit?”

“Yes. Both. I can’t explain it any more clearly than that.”

“Jaskier, I love you, but I hope I am the only person you’ve ever told that to. Anyone else will have you hauled off to an asylum. Next you’ll be telling me this place is really haunted.”

“I’m not mad Y/N.” There was a fierceness in his eyes that made her flinch, burned by his anger.

“I…I know you’re not Jaskier, I’m sorry. I never meant to imply. But that sounds like something out of the ballads we play, or one of the productions. Those stories aren’t real.”

Jaskier froze, looking around. “Don’t say that. He is everywhere. He’s here even now, all around us.”

She reached down to clasp his hand comfortingly; she had seen most of Jaskier’s moods, but in the years now that she had known him, fear had not been part of him. As they touched, she sucked in a sharp breath.

“Your hands are like ice, and I’ve never seen you so pale. Jaskier, are you alright?”

“I don’t want him to take you from me, Y/N. You are my dearest friend. So you mustn’t anger him.” His voice dropped even lower. “At times, he frightens me.”

Y/N tightened her fingers around his. “There is nothing to be scared of. I promise you.”

“No…No…Leave!” Yennefer snapped, brushing past the various people who stood outside Jaskier’s door waving pages to be autographed, flowers for the bard, more intimate things for the bard. She scowled at all of them, flapping her hands in a shooing gesture as if they were a flock of annoying birds, and ducked into the dressing room.

“You did very well,” she said as soon as the door had closed, taking Jaskier by the elbows to get a good look at him. He was still in most of his costume, though he had discarded the black brocade doublet and, as usual, undone half of his shirt buttons. “He will be pleased.”

Jaskier blushed at her praise. If someone had told him that he and the sorceress would become such close friends, that she would be the first he’d tell of his secret (though somehow she knew of him before Jaskier even spoke) he would have laughed himself sick. And yet, now he relied on her, alongside Y/N, and to hear her state such a matter-of-fact compliment, her second of the day even, made his heart soar as much as the applause from any audience could.

“But actually, I came here to tell you that there’s someone from the audience who wishes to see you.”

“There are quite a few people from the audience who wish to see me,” he gestured toward the crowd on the other side of the wall. “You very succinctly got rid of them for me, which is good. For once, I’m not enamored with the idea of being accosted by adoring fans.”

“This one is not so much an adoring fan as an apologetic one. I can send him away like the rest?”

“Apolog…Yennefer are you trying to tell me that Geralt is here and wishes to speak to me?!”

“Yes. I am.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Do you want me to let him in or not?”

“I…I…” Jaskier floundered. The very idea of the witcher’s presence with him, especially in this small room, after the last time they had spoken made his heart race. “I…um…yes. Okay. Sure. I’ll talk to Geralt.”

“I’ll go get him.” She vanished in the flash of a portal and Jaskier could not help but laugh. She really had walked all the way there just for the sake of sending away his unwanted admirers.

“I’m sorry, Songbird,” the words slipped from Geralt’s lips like a prayer as soon as he laid eyes on Jaskier again.

Yennefer cast a last look at Jaskier over Geralt’s shoulder, hesitant to leave the pair alone, before allowing her portal to close.

“Geralt,” Jaskier said, plastering on a welcoming smile. “Don’t tell me the new managers took the rumors of a ghost seriously and brought in a witcher?” He flinched at the blatantly false cheer in his voice.

Geralt stared at him, amber eyes cutting through him and all of his bluster, the same as they always did. “I was…just passing through.”

“And you suddenly felt the urge to go see a musical showcase? Something you have never had any previous interest in and in fact would have scorned if I had suggested it when we travelled together?”

“Yes.”

“Horseshit.” Jaskier glared as he planted his hands on his hips.

Geralt growled, stepping closer to the bard who refused to back down.

“I was passing through the city. I felt something compelling me to stop here. Maybe it was Yennefer. Or maybe, it was you.”

“Yennefer is the one your fate is tied to. It was probably her. You should go talk to her instead.”

“Yen and I made our peace already. You’re the one I still haven’t made up for hurting, Jaskier. Please…I never should have said those things to you or cast you away like that. I was angry, and hurt, and you deserved better than for me to take it out on you. Let me make it up to you.”

“You’re right, I didn’t deserve to be mistreated like that. But I should have expected it by then. You have always made a habit of cruelty.”

“If you come with me, I will do everything I can to make it up to you. Songbird… Dandelion… Jaskier,” Geralt frowned, digging for the nickname that felt right on his tongue and hesitating before he finished his plea. “I’ve missed you. Please.”

“Why now? There was plenty of time before this for you to find me and make amends. Yennefer was important enough to seek out. But no, I am an afterthought and you’ve waited until I’ve found a new life. I’ve settled here. I have a promising career. I may even be the next star of this stage, after tonight’s performance.”

“But are you happy?”

“What?” Jaskier’s eyebrows snapped down into a crease that Geralt wanted to kiss away. He pushed the feeling down.

“I asked if you were happy. If you say yes, I’ll go and leave you be.”

“And if I say no?” Jaskier asked softly.

Geralt cocked his head, looking fondly at Jaskier. “Then I’ll ask you again to forgive me and tell you that Roach is waiting for us in the stables.”

Jaskier hesitated. He was content here, but he did miss the adventure of travelling with Geralt. And more than that, he missed Geralt. If he was being honest with himself, he had forgiven the man long ago for their confrontation on the mountain, Y/N and Yennefer and even his Angel showing him that holding on to that pain was only hurting him more.

He smiled at Geralt with equal fondness, and the other man took the expression as acceptance.

“Get packed. I’ll wait for you outside,” Geralt said, tentatively reaching out, and then, unsure of what he’d planned to do, awkwardly patting Jaskier on the shoulder.

“Actually Geralt I—”

“It will be good to have you back,” Geralt said, as he turned to leave.

#The Witcher #The Witcher fic #Jaskier x Valdo Marx #Jaskier x Geralt #reader insert #Jaskier #Geralt of Rivia #Yennefer of Vengerberg #tbh it's going to be Yennefer x Reader in the background #Although I did consider an OC instead of Reader #but fuck it #also that means that big change 2 is replacing a mother/daughter with wives #but like I think in a way that works and is not weird #I dunno we'll find out #Sing Once Again With Me #Phantom of the Opera AU

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jacobalderham · 4 years ago

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Part II/Headlines

The following extract is from an early draft of Chapter 13 from Scattered Thoughts: The Story of a Kid Growing Up With ADHD by Jacob Ham. The following extract is unedited, unformatted, and will change before the final release.

Scattered Thoughts will be released August 24th 2021.

Real Life Events

These days it is hard to find a middle ground online. It seems that everyone has their own agenda. People attack others for supporting a different set of beliefs. Some people believe in God, and some assume that the Big Bang Theory is true. A few fixate on being part of an alien stimulation.

Social media is nothing but conspiracies and fake news.

If I made a political or scientific statement with hard cold evidence, people would still argue against it.

People these days can't stand being wrong.

People attack celebrities for something they did years ago, and they've already apologised for. These days you can't make a mistake.

But people change.

I know people who've changed after a traumatic experience, like a car accident that affects their ability to walk again. They think 's a miracle they're still alive. They used to cringe at the thought of their being a higher power, but now they go to church every weekend. Praying that one day they will play footy with the lads. People change. The older I get, the more I understand that.

The problem is people are caught up on having this persona. A persona behind a device. A persona behind an icon.

Social media has changed.

I can't scroll anymore without seeing negativity. I know drama gets more attention, but why does it have to be so toxic?

Why do we care so much about lives that are not ours? I wish I knew the answers.

I open my phone and see another bombing.

I scroll down and see another video from a protest about the environment.

I scroll a little more and see another status about a black guy getting shot by a cop in the street.

I scroll through the replies and see arguments over political views, forgetting we all bleed the same blood.

I scroll for another hour and see reports of another celebrity committing suicide. Harassed into ending their life because of some more clickbait.

People suddenly switch up their intentions and send prayers to the victim's family. They then get called out for being the ones who harassed the celebrity in question. Nothing is truly private anymore.

I scroll further and realise that my time could be spent better elsewhere.

I close my phone, and I am left wondering has the world always been this way?

I turn on the TV and see the same shit on the news.

The same bombing.

The same protest.

The same black guy getting shot by a cop.

The same footage, just without the comments and negativity.

I watch a little longer, and it starts to loop.

The same headlines as before.

The same adverts that cannot be skipped.

I keep flicking through the TV guide and cannot find anything worth my time.

I switch channels and hear more racism while watching Football. Everywhere I turn, I am reminded that the world is far from perfect.

I turn off the TV and attempt to sleep, but I'm wide awake wondering, maybe the world has always been this way.

Fictional Dreams/Dark Thoughts

I wake up the very next day, and my mind is racing. I feel agitated and annoyed about the world, but mainly towards the media. I hate how our lives are no longer private. Everything we do is traceable, permanent and backed up on our devices. Every part of our lives are public and used to build a profile of information, one that can be twisted against us if the time ever came.

That thought alone, has got me thinking about the worst-case scenario and if shit hit the fan, like what would happen if I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and committed murder? Doing it with malice and intent. The motive of proving my point about the media. Imagine if that became a reality, and it was more than a fictional dream.

My whole life would change instantly, no going back, and no do-overs.

It's permanent.

Do I go on the run? Or do I give myself up? It's hard to say because it would be a fight or flight decision. Maybe I'd finally have the guts to end it all.

Once I'm found guilty, it feels like the events that follow are far too easy to predict. Every single news corporation would use my name and my situation for clicks. They'd monetise off of my story, and someone else's miss fortune as that helps pay their bills.

They'd paint a picture of a boy who was troubled mentally and bullied growing up.

They'd name drop my diagnosis, and hint that maybe it was the medication I take, what pushed me over the edge.

They'd claim to have inside information about what went wrong and ask questions about whether that morning I forgot to take my meds.

They'd ask my teachers and so-called friends, questions about whether they believed the rumours, and some would say they're shocked, and others would claim they expected it.

They'd twist the fact I have ADHD and create even more stigma for people like me, making it even harder to get jobs or live a normal life.

They'd completely ignore the fact that they're giving me the attention that all people with ADHD apparently crave.

They'd reference that I graduated with honours and was slowly starting to make ends meet, and I'm praying they'd name drop my business, so I can finally see my website at the top of Google.

They'd celebrate about all my awards, certificates, and personal achievements becoming worthless and null and void as companies distance themselves from my name.

They'd discuss how I was an advocate for mental health and wanted to be a champion for other people with similar problems. Because it creates a shock and gives readers more to nitpick.

They'd bring up my little sister and her disability, stating that maybe I had too much on my plate.

They'd bug my mam for a statement, and enquire about her M.S, but deep down they don't give a damn, they're only bothered about their story.

They'd most likely mention that I only got a few years behind bars for something I deserved life for.

They'd forget to highlight that maybe there are two sides to every story like we aren't told that for every argument growing up.

They'd essentially feed you the words to how you feel before you start forming your own opinion because that's how they keep you hooked.

Maybe now I've finished this fictional dream, the next time you read a headline, you can learn to form your own opinion before tweeting about it.

#books #adhd #media #thoughts

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storyskylings · 5 years ago

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Ash and Alder

Author's note: I don't yet know the future history of the skylings, but I know this legend will exist in all cultures and stick around in their various cultures everlastingly. If they stay in the stone age until the planet gets asteroided, they are keeping this story. If they terraform the light-cone, they are keeping this story. They will be variations, perhaps even significant ones, but it stays fundamentally the same. No, this is not remotely realistic but I. do. not. care. I am fucking soppy and you. cannot. stop. me.

Note on gendered language: As I've mentioned before, skylings don't experience gender as we understand it. In order to avoid the loaded human words AMAB/AFAB or male/female, I'm going to use ZW and ZZ, in reference to bird chromosomes (crow-mosomes? :P). Birds with ZW chromosomes lay eggs. Birds with ZZ chromosomes produce sperm. (This contrasts with mammals, where XX produce eggs and XY produce sperm.) I'm using gender-neutral words for family relationships wherever possible (parent, beloved, sibling) but I have decided to use the word "aunt" in the place of aunt/uncle and "nephew" in the place of nephew/niece as they don't have well-known gender-neutral English words.

Final note: the "hunting rock" referred to is a flint-knapped flechette. A future post will have more information on how the skylings make and use these.

“Do you know the story of Ash and Alder, whose love was shall be reborn into every generation?”

Ash and Alder's love shall be reborn into every generation, for the day and the night were so moved by the perfection of their bond that they blessed them with everlasting marriage. How did such a perfect love begin?

Perfect love begins in friendship, for Ash and Alder's kin were neighbors and they played together from the fall that they fledged and all their roost suspected from their closeness that they would be beloveds. In the winter before their first spring, Ash told her first stories to the roost with her nearest sibling, and Alder was enchanted. And when Alder told her first story, Alder was astonished at her prowess on the lithophone. They listened to each other with rapture, and on the last night of winter, Alder came to Ash with a question. "Ash, my dearest friend, will you pray with me that when we have our first spring, my mating-need is for you and yours is for me?"

"We shall pray together tonight, and hope the day and night bless our union," Ash replied. And so Alder prayed "Night, I need a wise and strong beloved to fill my future with joy and help my chicks survive. When my first spring comes, will you fill me with the longing to display to my dearest friend Ash?"

And Ash prayed "Day, I will need a wise and strong beloved to fill my days with joy and help my chicks survive. When my first spring comes, will you fill me with the longing to accept my dear friend Alder?"

And Alder prayed "Day and Night, will you answer our prayer?"

And Ash prayed "Day and Night, we trust you to answer our prayer if this is wisest." And so it was that four days later their first spring came upon them. Alder felt the mating-need for everyone she saw, as all of us do in our first spring, but her prayer was answered, and her mating-need was strongest for Ash. And she flew to Ash and displayed before her, and said "The night has answered my prayer and I long to mate with you, and if our union is accepted, become your beloved. Do you accept?"

"The day has also answered my prayer, and I long to mate with you and become your beloved," answered Ash. And so they mated again and again, and soon Ash felt an egg inside her. And Alder went to her kin and said "I have mated with Ash and she will soon lay an egg. Her kin are fewer than us. May we build a nest among her kin?"

Her kin grieved for her, but they let her go and soon Ash and Alder were sitting upon their nest. And they prayed daily to the day and night that their egg would be allowed to hatch, and they could be beloveds forever. They told the story of their child's greatness over their egg. They thought that they would have abundant joy for octades, but do you know why they were wrong?

They were wrong because while Ash slept upon their egg a silent monster saw her with its vast and terrible eyes, and it hungered for her flesh. And it swooped with its silent wings towards her, ready to snatch her in its terrible claws. But Alder kept watch beside her, and saw the silent monster, with its vast and terrible eyes, dive for her nest. What did she do then?

She thought "Ash's life is more precious to me than mine. I thought the night had answered my prayer so that I could be her beloved all the days of her life, but now I see that the night wished me die so that she could be saved from the silent monster, with its vast and terrible eyes." And she came between Ash and the silent monster, and screamed with her final voice "Goodbye, my dearest friend!" and the silent monster's claws came down upon her, and crushed the life from her body, and her story ended. And what did Ash do, when she saw this?

Ash screamed into the night "A silent monster, with its vast and terrible eyes, has killed my dearest friend! I had dreamed she would love me all the days of my life! Now I must be alone!" Her kin came to console her, but she only screamed. And with the dawn she fell silent, abandoned her egg, and flew away alone. And she thought "I am in so much pain it feels like it will kill me. How can I live?"

But there was no answer. She thought "My kin will tell me to find a beloved next spring, but how can I when I will not find anyone as wonderful as Alder in eight lifetimes, not even in eight times eight lifetimes. How can I tolerate life when someone besides Alder is my beloved?"

But there was no answer. She thought "Since Alder had to be taken from me, why did the day and the night answer our prayers to be together?"

But there was no answer. She thought, "If I must feel so much pain, why was I ever hatched?"

And the answer came from within her "I was hatched to know Alder. This pain is destroying me, but I would not barter it for any joy I would feel in a life where I had never known her. The day and the night allowed a silent monster, with its vast and terrible eyes, to take her from me. They must have had a reason to tell this story. What was their reason?"

And it came to her "Their reason was to protect my kin and Alder's. And all our roost. They wish me to kill the silent monster, with its vast and terrible eyes." She flew back to her kin and said "I am going to kill the silent monster. Who will pray with me for the strength to kill it?"

And her kin said "You have gone mad with grief. You cannot kill a silent monster. You will surely die." Ash said "Without Alder, life is a disease to me. Who will pray with me?"

Her kin said "The silent monster, with its vast and terrible eyes, will get angry and come for us all!" Ash said "It kills for hunger, not anger. It has already come for one. Who will pray with me?"

Her kin said "The day and the night will not answer a foolish prayer." Ash said "I will try to kill it with no prayer if I must. Who will pray with me?"

At these words, her kin relented and her sibling prayed with her to kill the silent monster. She flew for many hours until she saw where the silent monster slept, hidden upon the tallest tree. Then she returned to her kin, and said "I had hoped you would give me a hunting-rock to hunt for food for the children I had with Alder. Now, I ask for one to kill the silent monster that stole her from me. I have found where the silent monster sleeps. One of you must follow me, so that if I do not survive you can bring it home. Will you give me a hunting rock, and follow me to the place where the silent monster sleeps?"

Her sibling Birch answered "I will follow you, and if you do not come back, I shall return with your hunting-rock if you cannot." So they flew to the place where the silent monster slept. Ash let the rock fall and her aim was true, and the silent monster was struck. Had she killed it?

No, she had struck and shattered one wing, and the silent monster awoke screaming upon its branch. Ash flew down to it, driving her beak into its vast and terrible eyes. They struggled and screamed, for the silent monster's wound had weakened but not destroyed it. Soon, both Ash and the silent monster were dead. Birch flew down and saw the remnants of her sibling and cried to the sky "My sibling and her friend deserved eight times eight springs together, but they were only given one. Why is the world full of monsters that come to destroy us?"

And then the voice of the day came from the sky "Ash and Alder had such a perfect love that it could destroy a silent monster, with its vast and terrible eyes. How shall we reward them?"

And the night's voice came from behind the day "Because they had perfect love and their lives were taken before they could enjoy it, they will be rewarded with marriage forever. Ash and Alder shall be reborn into every generation, and in every generation they will meet and become beloveds." And her story called their reward into being, and it was so.

This story is told (with minor alterations) at all skyling marriage ceremonies. After the story is told, the gathered family says "And perhaps you are both Ash and Alder, reborn again into perfect love."

We've already had a bit of skyling romance and family structure in the previous post, but marriage is a different matter. Skylings, like corvids, are socially monogamous birds that mate for life. However, the fact that they go into heat once a year, rather than experiencing the year-round horniness of (most) adult humans has a lot of implications for their marriages. Also, while they have sexual dimorphism, their society has like 2% as much gender as human societies, and this is partially explained by the way they romance and rear children.

Skylings would appear all-black and not sexually dimorphic to humans, but (like existing corvids) they can see into UV and have differences that are obvious to their eyes - ZW's have small indigo patches on the wings and none on the breast, while ZZ's have completely indigo wings and a large indigo patch on the breast. Most real-world corvids do not share incubation, as only ZZs have incubation patches (under-feathered parts on the body that allow body heat to transfer to eggs) but skylings have evolved to because <s>I say so</s> they have an unusually long incubation period and it's just easier that way. They don't have significant size or strength differences and all types of work are shared approximately equally, both those coded male in humans (hunting, fending off predators) and those coded female (gathering, childcare) although individual couples may divide certain tasks 60/40 based on individual personality and preference. (Also, flint-knapping is specialized work, but more on that another time.)

Ash and Alder's courtship is a model young skylings are intended to follow. As they grow up, they should make friends with skylings from neighboring kin-groups with an eye to those they want to spend the rest of their lives with. It's also customary to pray that when you become sexual, you will be attracted to a suitable friend. Skylings do not experience sexuality until their first "spring" (not truly spring, more like early February) when they get hit incredibly hard by going into heat and, well, feel the mating-need for everyone they see. The fact that Ash and Alder feel this does not disprove their "perfect love" - but the psychological effects of friendship and prayer mean that they will gravitate (mostly) towards whoever they plan to mate for life with. Most skylings will mate an opposite-sex skyling but ZW/ZW and ZZ/ZZ pairs exist and are accepted in society, although children are impossible. (About 5% of marriages are like this.) They tend to be very devoted aunts and are valued by their kin for their help in rearing nephews - kin-groups that are worried about food shortages will sometimes gently nudge their kids towards same-sex partnerships as a form of population control.

A skyling couple will mate during their first spring, and then (assuming that an egg was fertilized) lay a single egg and build a nest. (Two eggs can happen, but it's about as rare as human twins.) Usually they will move into whichever existing kin-group is smaller; when kin-groups become too large, some will usually break off but rarely new couples, who need the help of their kin with their first egg. They then begin the process of shared incubation, where they alternate time on the egg and whoever is off the egg brings food to the other. Poorly-suited couples will often end up relentlessly arguing and abandoning their egg during this period, in which case they will not marry. (I don't want to get into the ethics of egg-abandonment. All I will say is that, whether unhatched skylings are conscious or not, skylings do not believe they are conscious.) Same sex or infertile couples, while they have no egg, will spend this time together acting as aunts to the younger skylings in their kin, and deciding if they want to forgo parenthood to help their extended family.

Assuming all has gone well and after about 75 days, an egg will hatch (or, if there is no egg, the eggless couple will decide on whether they have chosen to stay together) and the marriage ceremony will be performed in the presence of kin. The difficult task of rearing a chick then begins, but that is for another post.

The story of Ash and Alder, in addition to being a model of self-sacrificial love, is the skyling species' first attempt at theodicy. It leaves a lot to be desired (day and night let them suffer to protect their kin from an owl, but why did they create owls in the first place?) but I've heard worse from humans. Skylings are both predators and prey, and grief is a constant in their life. Dying of old age is a rare privilege. They love their children, their spouses and their kin - their creation myth is about how isolation is worse than death - but grief is a constant companion to them. They believe in re-incarnation (with the caveat that there are a few crimes so severe that your soul is annihilated completely) and rewards in future lives for virtue in this one, but that only softens the blow a little. Life hurts and death hurts and it's not going to get better in any future they can foresee. Stories like Ash and Alder have a depressing but useful message: love is important and beautiful, but it's not enough to protect you. Nothing and nobody can protect you completely.

#story skylings #ash and alder #skyling families #skyling marriage

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corinthbayrpg · 5 years ago

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NAME. Leonidas Karatasos AGE & BIRTH DATE. Currently 33, reincarnated on August 11th, 1986 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Kobalos OCCUPATION. Owner of Hypnos FACE CLAIM. Scott Eastwood

BIOGRAPHY

( tw: war, death, violence, drinking, assault, homophobia, fire, madness ) When Leonidas was born in a small village on the outskirts of Thebes in ancient Greece, he never would have imagined to still be alive an eternity later. He was a lively child, with a knack for games and jokes, a huge smile on his face and a devilish glint in his eyes. He was born into a family that had partaken in the village’s belief in Dionysus for years before he was born. They praised the god of madness and ecstasy day and night and constantly celebrated him. They were known to be just as ecstatic as their god was supposed to be, leading ritualistic dances and sing songs through nights and days. While they thought they believed in the only true religion, and praised the best god there was, outside of their little world many frowned upon them. They were belittled, as well as beaten and laughed at. Other people around Thebes watched them with both worry and disgust. And despite that, Leonidas never wavered in the strong belief that had been burnt into his mind from the moment he was born. It did not matter that the rest of the world thought he was one with a group of crazy people. He would still whisper about it into the ears of those who would listen once he was old enough, ready to spread the belief to anyone who had an open ear for him. He would still take a beating, and rise from it to celebrate another feast for Dionysus.

Though even within the group of the small village, Leonidas was often the one who didn’t like to be in the middle of it all. He liked being just outside of the light, dancing in shadows, and observing some of the more extreme rituals the others partook in. While he was a fan of a life with no boundaries, he sometimes felt bad for the fact that they would plug people from their own lives as if they were no longer needed. He would have gladly stolen a loaf of bread from them, but their entire life? It did not stop him from having fun, of indulging in those aspects of the belief that especially appealed to him. For Leonidas, there was no way he would ever leave them, and so he was still in the only space he thought he belonged when Dionysus finally listened to their prayers. Being granted powers by the god they had prayed to for so long now seemed almost like a surreal dream – but who would say no to the gift of immortality?

The villagers were gifted not only that but also the ability to trick whoever they wanted and conjure illusions by looking into another pair of eyes. The man who was in his mid-twenties at the time couldn’t quite believe his luck. Finally, he had an easy time paying back those that wronged him and those he held close to his heart. He reveled in getting to trick them, in driving them mad when he thought they deserved it. In the end, his first mortal life was still ended by another human who despised the villagers, and beat him until no life was left in his body. He was reincarnated into the village that had always been his home and would be his home once again. While living there, Leonidas loved to connect to the plants around him, learning about their healing abilities and how to use them, while still using his trickster abilities to their fullest. He was hardly seen without an amused sparkle in his eyes or a laugh on his lips. He was good at spreading joy, even better at masking his feelings when he didn’t feel it for once. Back in those days, he thought life could go on like this forever and ever. But of course, it did not. It was between 339 and 338 BC that his life was turned upside down by the war against Philip II of Macedon. Leonidas did not care much about the politics behind the war, though that changed once Thebes was overrun, his family of villagers ripped apart, and most of them sold into slavery. He had a burning hatred for what had happened to the perfect life he lived, and he swore he would never turn a blind eye to politics again. Rich men with great monologues should not rule over those less fortunate.

Leonidas was bought by a young man who was rich and striving to rise up in power to impress his father and his wife-to-be. Little did he know who he had let into his home, for Leonidas hardly wasted any time in using his powers to get himself out of slavery. He used mostly his glamour, but also his silk tongue to whisper promises and stories into his owner’s ears until he no longer believed him to be a slave, but an equal. It was by his side that he managed to get a foot in the door of the regime of Alexander The Great. However, the Kobaloi didn’t make it very far in his quest to undermine the regime, as he found his fate once more by a blade cutting his neck when the man who originally bought him was attacked.

Being reincarnated into the life of a man who became a soldier before he remembered his wish to drive anyone mad who let others fight for them, he once again found himself in the middle of a war. Despite using whatever trick he had up his sleeve, Leonidas didn’t make it far while Alexander The Great was fighting his wars. He fought and fell, just another soldier who died. By the time Alexander died, Leonidas had been reincarnated once more, already irritated with the sensation. He found himself still sticking in Greece, though no longer near his home that Thebes had once been. Now he found himself as part of the Aetolian League, residing in Athens. But the young Kobaloi never actually felt an alliance with anyone. Over time, he slipped from the Aetolian League to the Achaean league, changing his home and supposed alliance to be able to drive the conquering groups mad. He managed to make his way towards those leading wars and fights, giving suggestions on their strategies, while doing the same to the other side not long after. Leonidas, who had originally intended to help out those who were less fortunate, got lost in the pleasure of fueling chaos and madness. He would whisper his way into beds of important people, create illusions to get them to do what he wanted. He enjoyed it, and every death he died throughout the years was worth it. Soldier, advisor, lover, trickster.

But there was one thing that truly messed up his plans and his will to only live for the chaos he could create: finding his soulmate. It was the last thing he had expected to ever happen to him, someone who had very much enjoyed sexual freedom up until that moment, but it took only one look at the man’s face and his heart was captured in an instant – and would never let go of this feeling for the rest of his lives. While Leonidas was gifted an immortal life and reincarnation, the one he chose to fall for lived a very different timeline. The time they got to spend together was never enough before his beloved was called into a veil Leonidas could not quite fathom with his thoughts, forced to stay away from him. Sometimes they got to spend more years together, sometimes barely any time at all. It always seemed to take an excruciatingly long time before they got to reunite, and it drove Leonidas mad. They were apart more than they were together it seemed, and that was unfair in the eyes of the furious Kobaloi. Every time they got separated over the years, he would unleash his emotions in the form of more madness. He made his way through Europe but always made his way back to Greece as if feeling its call. He slipped from court to court, from regime to regime, often masking himself as a charming young man who only had everyone else’s best interest at heart. The reality was, he thrived on making everyone else suffer when his own heart was burning. He loved ruining lives because his own seemed so very broken. When he didn’t find himself among those more fortunate, he was often reincarnated into the life of a man who was fighting yet another war, the pain in his heart overshadowed by that of the violence real life had to offer.

That was his routine for too many centuries. Die painful deaths at war, see excruciating pain, find himself in slavery – or celebrate debaucherous feasts full of ecstasy and madness while driving the rich and influential against one another, and in between that, meet the love of his life only to lose him over and over again. From extreme high to extreme lows, it shouldn’t have been surprising that he suffered. Leonidas mind sometimes didn’t differ so much from those he had driven mad with his own powers. He was angry at the world and angry at the god who had given him these powers – apparently to do nothing more but suffer and see others suffer.

The Kobaloi was the reason for quite a few monarchs going mad over the centuries. Those who loved to torture and throw great feasts often found Leonidas in their court. None of them would have said phrases like “Qu'ils mangent de la brioche” or refer to choices that were sure to make people hate them. He was one of the people King Charles VI of France listened to when enough alcohol was coursing through his system, plenty of his more bizarre moments stemming from conversations with Leonidas. He left the court of King Charles VI in 1393 after a celebration later on known as “ball of the burning men”. Leonidas had fueled the idea of the king to show up to a wedding with some of his men dressed as wildlings, covered in pitch. Four of them ended up burning to death. Leonidas couldn’t have cared less.

Two centuries later, Leonidas was also the reason why Emperor Rudolf II developed a severe case of paranoia. The Kobaloi found it delighting to tell the man that everyone wanted to overthrow and kill him – while his words partly held truth, they were also partly an illusion to make the emperor insecure. And it worked. Leonidas watched from the sidelines as Rudolf II was called unstable and unpredictable. He helped the emperor find people to fuel his love for the occult, watching with glee how he threw himself into false information about the supernatural world, while the real problem was sitting right next to him. Leonidas left the man shortly before he was overthrown by his brother, having lost interest in the man once more. His next life he spent at the court of Queen Christina of Sweden, finding joy in a woman who so clearly held no interest in what was expected of her as a Queen. He helped her dress up in men’s clothing and covered for her when she led women into her bedrooms. It was her who brought him back to Greece eventually, where he settled in Rome until he was hunted and his life ended because some of his neighbors suspected him to be a witch.

With every death, with every monarch driven mad, with every war fought, and with every separation from the love of his life, his sanity seemed to wear thinner. Not many of his deaths were caused by his lack of carelessness when it came to his sexual desires, his celebrations, or his madness. While death had lost all meaning to him over the centuries, dying still didn’t become any easier. Leonidas absolutely hated it, and once again wondered why a god would have given him this sort of gift only to suffer.

Despite his despair, he mostly stuck to Greece since the late 19th century, noticing the call of the veil in Corinth Bay. He lived in the town for some years, before moving elsewhere, feeling unsettled and bored quickly. But he had seen so much of the world already, he didn’t know what else would be able to impress him. From time to time his old love for tricking people around him would burn up with a newfound, undying passion, and it was in those moments that Leonidas would often say he could never get tired of playing games.

But during this time period, he eventually completely lost that spark. Nowadays, he would say that a soul simply is not made to survive forever, and be reborn over and over again. He had seen too much sorrow, and no matter how much he held onto the side of him that was careless and fun-loving, seeing plenty of people he liked die didn’t help either. One could say he suffered through quite a few mid-life crises, those highs, and lows of his never easy to watch. When he lost his lover to death once more, cursed to spend another 100 years without him in the early 20th century, he was simply tired of it all. With no real meaning in life anymore, it sometimes felt like a nuisance to have to go on. Days seemed grey, and any joy of tricking people was lost on him all over again. Leonidas still did it, but it seemed to be as much of a nuisance as everything else. He had lost his fire and passion for life, and a part of him wished that he could just get rid of his reincarnation.

The last time Leonidas died, it was one of his more heroic deaths. He had saved a young woman from a group of men assaulting her, and was stabbed to death on his way home when they recognized him as someone who had kissed a man in the same bar as them not too long ago. Leonidas died, and his gloomy mind stayed with him when he was reincarnated in August 1986. While an older version of himself would have been ecstatic to see the way the world changed, became more open-minded, celebrated festivals and parties, he now attended without seeing any real meaning to it. Where was the point when he had done all of it over and over again? He was missing a part of himself and missing a life that wasmeaningful.

He did not think that Dionysus would ever come into play again. He had given up on his god forever ago, when he stayed silent through too much suffering and too many prayers. Therefore, being called to Corinth Bay where he had lived several times in the past with the promise of a war between Gods, he didn’t know what to expect. He wanted to be mad at Dionysus, mad at these gods fighting each other at the hands of others. While it’s not his first time in the city, he can’t remember ever seeing it crowded by so many supernatural creatures, or with so much brewing underneath the surface. He took over a place he had owned in the past, now a cocktail bar named Hypnos. It was no big trick for him to get the lease signed over to him once more, using the place to judge people, trick them, and figure out which side he really wanted to be on. He is ready to fight – whether he has done more than enough of that in his lifetime or not.

PERSONALITY

+ playful, open-minded, loyal - vengeful, irresponsible, cynical

PLAYED BY LISA. GMT+1. She/Her.

#lisa

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ianspirations · 4 years ago

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DEI VERBUM: Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation

The aim of this document is to “set forth authentic doctrine on divine revelation and how it is handed on, so that by hearing the message of salvation the whole world may believe, by believing it may hope, and by hoping it may love.” (DV 1)

God chose to reveal himself as a friend by living among human beings and inviting them “into fellowship with Himself” (DV 2). God revealed Himself through Words and Deeds: the deeds refer to the things He did through history that have added credibility to the spoken Words. Since God chose to reveal Himself most powerfully through Jesus, Jesus becomes “both the mediator and the fullness of all revelation” (DV 2).

God the creator, offers human beings a glimpse of Himself in the created realities around them (cf. Rom 1:19-20). Knowing that nature itself wasn’t revealing enough, He chose to reveal Himself personally to humankind. The first chapters of Genesis record this initial revelation. The Great Fall gave humankind hope that God’s promise of salvation would be fulfilled. God carefully guided the human race and offered ‘eternal life to those who persevered in doing good.’ Through the patriarchs like Abraham the prophets from Moses onwards, “He taught this people to acknowledge Himself the one living and true God, provident father and just judge, and to wait for the Saviour promised by Him, and in this manner prepared the way for the Gospel down through the centuries” (DV 3).

Finally, God chose to speak to human beings as one among them and therefore “He sent His Son, the eternal Word” who came as ‘a man to men’ speaking the words of God and completing the work of salvation (DV 4). “Jesus perfected revelation by fulfilling it through his whole work of making Himself present and manifesting Himself: through His words and deeds, His signs and wonders, but especially through His death and glorious resurrection from the dead and final sending of the Spirit of truth” (DV 4). Jesus through all of these actions confirmed what God had been revealing all along, namely that He is with us and wishes to free us from the darkness of sin and death, and to give us eternal life. Since God revealed Himself fully through Jesus, we ought to expect no further new public revelation until Jesus manifests Himself fully and finally at the end of time.

God’s revelation requires “the obedience of faith” (Rom 16:26) by which human beings commit themselves wholly and freely to God. This act of faith cannot be exercised without Divine Grace and the assistance of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit plays a crucial role in the understanding of revelation by strengthening faith through His gifts. (DV 5)

“Through divine revelation, God chose to show forth and communicate Himself and the eternal decisions of His will regarding the salvation of men” (DV 6). This simply means that God wanted human beings to know and love Him that is why He revealed Himself to them. God can be known by human reason and reflection on created reality but through revelation we are able to grasp “those religious truths which are by their nature accessible to human reason…with solid certitude and with no trace of error” (DV 6).

God wanted that His revelation reach all people and all nations “in its full integrity.” Therefore, Jesus commissioned the Apostles to preach the Gospel “which is the source of all saving truth and moral teaching and to impart to them heavenly gifts” (DV 7). The Gospel was foretold by the prophets and was fulfilled by Jesus. The Apostles faithfully carried out the Divine mandate by their preaching and some of them, along with other inspired persons “committed the message of salvation to writing” (DV 7). The Apostles appointed Bishops as their successors and charged them with the authority to preserve the Gospel and its tradition and teach in their own settings. Sacred Tradition and Sacred Scripture are like the two lenses with which the Church looks at God.

In order to ensure faithfulness to the tradition, the Apostles would offer exhortations and teachings either through their preaching or through letters. “What was handed on by the Apostles includes everything which contributes toward the holiness of life and increase in faith of the peoples of God; and so the Church, in her teaching, life and worship, perpetuates and hands on to all generations all that she herself is, all that she believes” (DV 8). This tradition is guided by the Holy Spirit evidenced by the fact that there is a growth in understanding revelation. The teachings of the Fathers of the Church and the successors of the Apostles (bishops) are drawn from and influence the life of the Church. Tradition has given us the canon of sacred books and also provides the background for understanding and interpreting them. God continues to reveal Himself to the Church through the Scriptures.

Scripture and Tradition are closely connected since they spring up from the same Divine source and culminate in the same end. Scripture is the Word of God since it is written under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit while Tradition takes the Word of God and hands it down from generation to generation faithfully and purely. Thus, both of them have “to be accepted and venerated with the same sense of loyalty and reverence” (DV 9).

Both of them together form “one sacred deposit of the word of God.” (DV 10). Both the clergy and the laity participate in faithfully observing and practicing the heritage of the faith. The task of authentically interpreting the word of God is entrusted exclusively to the ‘teaching office of the Church, whose authority is exercised in the name of Jesus Christ (Bishops). This teaching office is not above the Scriptures but serves it by teaching only what has been handed down and what is inspired by the Holy Spirit. This widens the deposit of the word of God to also include the teaching authority of the Church which is also called the Magisterium or teachings of the Bishops.

The Church holds that scripture in its entirety (Old and New Testaments) was written under Divine inspiration by human authors who used their own abilities to write down everything that God wanted them to. Thus, the Church considers the scriptures to be without error with regard to those things pertaining to God. (DV 11).

However, since God chose to communicate through human authors, those who desire to understand and interpret Scripture must pay careful attention to “what God wanted to communicate… (and) should carefully investigate what meaning the sacred writers really intended” (DV 12). In order to better grasp the intention of the writers, it would help to pay attention to ‘literary forms’ among other tools. In order to get a better idea, “due attention must be paid to the customary and characteristic styles of felling, speaking and narrating which prevailed at the time of the sacred writer, and to the patterns men normally employed at that period in their everyday dealings with one another” (DV 12). In doing this, one must not neglect looking at a particular passage within the context of the whole of scripture. The tradition of the Church must also be taken into consideration.

Scripture reveals to us the humility of God who chose to convey His truth and identity through human language; in a similar fashion, he chose to share human nature (DV 13).

In order to initiate His plan of salvation for the whole human race, the Lord of infinite wisdom chose a people for Himself to whom He entrusted His promises. Through Abraham and Moses, He entered into a covenant with the people of Israel. He manifested Himself to them through words and deeds. This history is recorded in the Old Testament and therefore remains “permanently valuable” (DV 14).

The principal aim of the Old Testament was to prepare for the coming of Christ. The Old Testament reveals “the knowledge of God and of man and the ways in which God, just and merciful, deals with men” (DV 15). The Old Testament with its limitations shows us “true divine pedagogy” (DV 15). “These same books, then, give expression to a lively sense of God, contain a store of sublime teachings about God, sound wisdom about human life, and a wonderful treasury of prayers, and in them the mystery of our salvation is present in a hidden way” (DV 15).

God, the divine author, wisely chose that the New Testament be hidden in the Old. The Old Testament is fulfilled by the New and help by shedding light on the New Testament and explaining it. (DV 16). The New Testament is a witness to the revelation of God in the person of Jesus. Jesus’ words and deeds and the fulfilment of His work by His death, resurrection and ascension are all contained in the New Testament. (DV 17). The Gospels hold a central place among all of the Scriptures even among the New Testament because “they are the principal witness for the life and teaching of the incarnate Word, our saviour” (DV 18). The Gospel is the ‘foundation of faith’ and is ONE though fourfold, according to Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.

The four gospels faithfully hand on the story of Jesus which was enriched by their witness of Christ’s life and the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. They wrote the Gospels, “selecting some things from the many which had been handed on by word of mouth or in writing, reducing some of them to a synthesis, explaining some things in view of the situation of their churches and preserving the form of proclamation but always in such fashion that they told us the honest truth about Jesus” (DV 19). Besides the Gospels, the New Testament contains the epistles of Paul and other apostolic writings which deal with matters concerning the Church and Christ the Lord (DV 20).

The Church venerates the Scriptures as she venerates the body of the Lord. Through the liturgy she offers the faithful both ‘God’s word and Christ’s body.’ The scriptures offer the word of God Himself and make the voice of the Holy Spirit heard in the words of the prophets and Apostles. Therefore, all preaching must be founded on Scripture. Through the Scriptures, “the Father who is in heaven meets His children with great love and speaks with them; and the force and power in the word of God is so great that it stands as the support and energy of the Church, the strength of faith for her sons, the food of the soul, the pure and everlasting source of spiritual life” (DV 21).

The Church desired that the Scriptures be easily accessible to all the faithful. For this reason, she accepted the very ancient Greek translation of the Old Testament called the Septuagint while also giving due honour to the Eastern Latin translation known as Vulgate. Keeping in mind her responsibility for providing correct translations into other languages, the Church is careful in approving translations and recommends certain translations (DV 22). The Church desires to arrive at a deeper understanding of the Scriptures so that she can offer her children more solid food to use a Pauline expression. To this end, she encourages the study of the writings of the Church Fathers both Eastern and Western. She directs Catholic exegetes and students of sacred theology to “devote their energies, under the watchful care of the sacred teaching office of the Church, to an exploration and exposition of the divine writings” (DV 23). The aim of this should be to equip people to be ‘ministers of the divine word’ who are able to effectively enlighten people’s minds, strengthen their wills and set their hearts on fire with the love of God.

“Sacred theology rests on the written word of God, together with sacred tradition, as its primary and perpetual foundation” (DV 24). Theology should scrutinize the truth contained in them with the light of faith and in turn be rejuvenated by them. Since the scriptures contain the word of God, their study forms the soul of theology. “By the same word of Scripture the ministry of the word also, that is, pastoral preaching, catechetics and all Christian instruction, in which the liturgical homily must hold the foremost place, is nourished in a healthy way and flourishes in a holy way” (DV 24).

All clergy must engage in ‘diligent sacred reading and careful study’ of Scripture especially priests, deacons and catechists who are active in the ministry of the word. This is important so as to avoid becoming empty preachers who preach without practicing. The Church encourages all its faithful but especially the religious to “learn by frequent reading of the divine Scriptures” the knowledge of Jesus (DV 25). It is important that every Christian keep in touch with the word either proclaimed in the liturgy or read personally. Prayer should always accompany the reading of scripture “so that God and man may talk together” (DV 25). It is the responsibility of the Bishops to give to the faithful instructions regarding the use of divine books especially the New Testament and the Gospels in particular. Editions of the scriptures with suitable footnotes could help the faithful and other Christians to “become conversant with the Sacred Scriptures and be penetrated with their spirit” (DV 25).

The reading and study of scripture will ensure that “the treasure of revelation, entrusted to the Church, may more and more fill the hearts of men” (DV 26).

#deiverbum #vaticanii #sacred scripture #tradition #faith #revelation #prayer #spirituallife #preaching #teaching #study #Jesus

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tsukiyaki · 5 years ago

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2020 LC: Prologue

Sometimes, dreams come in whispers, and those whispers don’t stem from selfish desires, but rather God’s promises. When that happens, God can answer even the prayers that you didn’t have the guts to put words to or wrote off as impossible or wishful thinking. His timing is perfect, so trust Him in the waiting. The days, months, or years it takes Him to set up the dominoes in your life are so worth it. When the time is right, everything falls into place in a way that will leave you in awe and unable to do anything but worship Him.

Tomorrow, I set out on a journey that He has been preparing me for over the last 3 years. It’s hard to surprise me, but God gets me every time--I was clueless to what He was up to until I found myself in front of an open door I never had to fight for.

Pray for me, that I would take all that I learn from this leadership cohort and be fruitful, gladly yielding to His pruning throughout. Celebrate with me, for God has been good beyond measure. Read on if you want to know the full story!

November 11, 2016, I met A. Until the last year or so, I called him “Pastor A” (and sometimes referred to him half-jokingly as “Father A”), as most contexts in which I encountered him were within the church, with him at the pulpit.

In 2016, he spoke at a youth leadership retreat. The way he taught and spoke blew my mind--it was his understanding of how humans work, his uncanny ability to read all kinds of people and really get through to them, the way he ended every message with practical application exercises that grew all of us, students to young adults alike. Away from the pulpit, he was incredibly down to earth. I will never forget wondering, should I be concerned that the same man who left me awestruck moments ago with his preaching seems to have a lot of creative ideas about how to break into a car? Nah, this is way too entertaining. (Context: A was helping an uncle try to get into his locked car after said uncle lost his car keys.)

April 28-29, 2017, I couldn’t contain my excitement being under A’s tutelage again at counselors’ retreat. It was during this retreat that I learned about the company he works for, and the tools and models he uses to build leadership pipelines and empower people across all kinds of institutions, not just in the church. I was deeply unsatisfied by my career at the time. I felt lost and aimless in life. A shined like a beacon of hope, living proof that there could be something professionally worth doing in this world that actually connected to my passions. And then was born my unspoken prayer: How I would love to learn from him and do what he does one day.

But you see, A doesn’t live in California, and I wasn’t planning on leaving. The competency gap between us was daunting. I had no reason to believe that out of all the people he met, he would take notice of little old me. Even if he did, why would he choose to invest in me? I decided to know my place and be grateful for the fact that he even remembered me and was willing to spare a few minutes of his precious time to check in on me over the upcoming years.

At one point, he made me cry in public, and I thought it might be nice to not have that experience again--all the more reason to move on with life. (Context: He rebuked me for undermining my influence out of false humility as a group of friends standing to the side couldn’t help but listen in because what he was saying was that convicting, and it was the most loving correction I’ve ever received from a human being, but also embarrassing and really hard because criticism of any kind makes me initially feel like a failure.)

May 4, 2018, after a grueling 6 month interview process that in and of itself was a miraculous work of God, I signed the offer letter to my current company. Finally, I was a full time employee who would soon experience the full force of imposter syndrome and fear of selling out. But I also had the most clarity at this point in time that I was excited for this opportunity because I knew my purpose was to proclaim the gospel and establish His kingdom at work.

January 24, 2019, A somehow found my number (probably through my work profile) and texted me about coming to my company to start a leadership pipeline. He invited me to come to the introductory workshop on the 30th. I went. Even though it was material I’d already seen multiple times before, it still deeply impacted me. However, I decided not to join the 2019 cohort, and fell out of contact with A after February.

February 22-24, 2019, Ignite retreat. Pastor D, whom I also deeply respect and adore, returned for a second year as our speaker. I left retreat with 2 major takeaways: I need to journal, and I need mentors (plural). Pastor D taught me that mentorship comes in different forms, and paying to be part of a cohort or to take a leadership class is an option that I ought to be open to. The first thing I thought of was A’s leadership cohort, and I wondered if I had missed out. But I knew I hadn’t made a mistake, because I had no motivation to join that cohort, given that it was aimed at the specific context of developing me as a leader at my job, which was the last thing I wanted to invest more time into. Nonetheless, the importance of self awareness and guidance sat at the forefront of my mind for the rest of the year.

June 11, 2019, I won’t explain in detail how serendipitous it felt on this day when God once again by no accident brought about a major turning point in my career. But this was the day that hope broke through. My manager started the process of helping me switch to a product I love. The transition happened officially on September 3rd. For the first time in 5 years, I actually found my job life-giving. I started to see a future here that I wanted to invest in.

October 7, 2019, I don’t remember exactly how this happened, but I suddenly realized I really missed A. I texted him to check in, half expecting to be ignored because of how long it had been (clearly, I still had issues believing that he cared about me, which now that I think about it, was probably because I hadn’t been useful to him for months, and my core Enneagram fear is that nobody would want me around if I’m not useful). I happened to check in right after he had completed his 2019 cohort, just in time to be invited to another kickoff meeting. The thought of mentorship was swirling through my mind again, and I realized I was in a place of genuine interest in joining the 2020 cohort. However, the financial barrier was holding me back. I was planning on buying a new car, I’m still paying for my Invisalign, and I just didn’t know if I was willing to take another hefty sum out of my budget.

November 13, 2019, I missed the entire kickoff meeting due to work, but I dropped by at the end to say hi anyway. All my fears and anxieties about being forgotten or unwanted melted away, and I realized on this day how much of a mentor figure A already is in my life. I told him afterwards that ever since I met him, he has shown up consistently at key moments/turning points in my life and given me the push I need to move forward. His existence reminds me that God sees me and takes care of me. He told me he’d be around again in December and actually have time to catch up, which is rare, given how packed his schedule usually is. He also encouraged me to consider joining the cohort this time. I promised to think about it.

December 10, 2019, we caught up over a casual dinner, during which A learned just how ridiculous my work life balance has historically been, how I believe that my experience has been unique because God has graciously given me all the time I need to fulfill His missional purpose for me at work, and how my passion lies in championing the people around me. Having heard my story, he went full big picture mode and basically told me to not only join the 2020 cohort, but to do so as his apprentice, that he may raise me up to one day be able to do what he does. He addressed every barrier I once had, and they were no longer an issue. The dominoes fell.

My mind short-circuited as it took some quantum leaps down memory lane (imagine all the details in this blog post and more crashing into my brain at the same time). A stared at me expectantly, slightly amused but mostly confused as to why I was not visibly excited, but rather either at a loss for words or spewing nonsensical protest coming from a place of not feeling worthy of this offer. Honestly, I was in extreme shock that God would not only do the bare minimum of turning my unspoken prayer from years ago into a possibility, but that He went the extra mile to meet every condition that I added on top of that prayer before making it a reality.

I helplessly looked to my friend sitting next to me to help me make sense of what just happened. He said something along the lines of, “Why are you looking at me? I think this is a great idea!” I still hit the brakes as gently as I could and told A I needed time to process, and I would officially confirm my participation with him only after I talked to my manager.

I got manager approval the next day.

Tomorrow, January 29th, will be our first cohort meeting. I hope to document this journey, my lessons and takeaways, so I don’t forget them, and so that I have a record of God placing down the next set of dominoes in my life.

#dominoes

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