#this post inspired by the original Mad World by Tears for Fears | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

arcanadreams · 3 years ago

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That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral

hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours

also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom

Lucifer:

You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!

You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.

Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!

About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.

He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.

Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.

Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.

Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.

Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.

Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)

Mammon:

Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?)

He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...

You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.

The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.

“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.

“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~”

You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:

“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”

“Honey.”

Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.

“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-

Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)

Leviathan:

Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.

You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams.

It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.

However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.

Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.

Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!

Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that.

Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.

You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-

You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.

Satan:

There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way.

Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.

However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism.

This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.

You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.

The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.

“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?”

(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)

Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-

When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.

Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on.

Asmodeus:

I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.

However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.

Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.

You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.

A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.

“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be careful of his nails.

Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”

“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process.

“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”

Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care.

Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.

Beelzebub:

Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet.

It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.

So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention.

You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)

A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:

You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.

Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.

The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.

The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.

Belphegor:

If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)

Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram.

Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.

So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place.

And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.

So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.

Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.

They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly.

The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.

“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.

#IM SO HAPPY TO HAVE FINALLY WRITTEN THIS #obey me #my writing #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #posts

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kstewdeux · 3 years ago

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Inspired By This Post

Summary: Kagome demonstrates what she’s learned from Sango and Inuyasha is brought to his knees

Save The Horse

‘This is what I get for bringing her,’ Inuyasha thought miserably as he pried his face out of the dirt and shook himself to get rid of the dust. It seemed like a good idea when he first thought of it! Three years away from her had caused problems that he was still working out. Twelve months in and there were still times he woke up in a cold sweat even though she was right there - his heart beating so fast it started skipping. Nightmare upon nightmare with him still crouched at the bottom of the well believing he would never get to see her again and fighting back the crushing despair that accompanied realizing he very well might be alone forever. Bringing her with him would keep his mind clear. If he could physically see her, he wouldn’t be distracted during battle or rush through things that shouldn’t be rushed. It was crippling how often he obsessed over seeing her again - to make sure she actually came back. A few times he’d even lost focus and nearly taken an unnecessary hit. The fear always there that maybe he’d gone insane and that her return was just some grand hallucination everyone was going along with out of pity. Sometimes it got so bad he’d even randomly tear up even though there was nothing to cry about anymore. She’d come back but the very idea she’d be taken from him again…

That she wasn’t real…

Anyway this foolproof plan to keep a clear mind and alleviate his lingering depressed paranoia had just been shot to shit. One utterly devastating movement on her part and he was an even bigger mess than he would’ve been if he’d just gone it alone.

All it took was for Kagome to show off her imaginably hard-earned expertise in horse riding and combat tactics. That was all it took to turn his legs into jelly and melt his mind to the point he tripped over his own feet. But how else was he supposed to react when his woman demonstrated her strength, agility and grace? In the span of less than a minute, Kagome had gone from a riding position to literally balancing herself on the back of a moving animal and aiming her bow at the same time. When she hit the mark with expert precision and maneuvered herself to her original position without so much as losing her breath, his whole body had shivered and next thing he knew he had faceplanted in front of an enemy. This had to be the most humiliating moment of his life to date….

Or the onset of his inevitable descent into madness because Kagome being strong enough to kick his ass rather than resorting to using beads to take him down was simply too good to be true. His mind making fantasies come to life because he’d officially cracked.

Groaning, Inuyasha shook his head to clear it. No. No, he wasn’t crazy. Kagome pulling that horse trick off was just a fluke. Woman did try things every once in a while that just miraculously worked out…

Amber eyes darted up to locate his wife and another involuntary groan passed over his lips at yet another position he had no idea she could do. It almost looked like she was falling off the horse – almost parallel with the ground, she was holding herself up with nothing but muscle mass while also managing to shoot an enemy straight in the face.

If his eyes were wrong, he suddenly didn’t care to see right ever again. That had to be the single most arousing thing he’d ever seen her do. Almost like it was picked straight out of his dreams.

So what if he’d finally gone crazy? Totally worth it.

‘You’re not crazy,’ Inuyasha chided himself silently as he shakily got to his feet, ‘You know she’s been taking lessons. Maybe that’s where she learned how to do…”

A shuddering sigh escaped him when Kagome slid to the other side of the horse and repeated the action.

“That…oh shit…”

In hindsight, he should’ve asked more questions when Kagome told him Sango was giving her horseback riding lessons alongside the twins. It never even occurred to him that it would be battle related. While he’d seen the slayer do some of these moves riding Kilala, it never crossed his mind that those moves might translate to other animals. What else had Sango been teaching this woman?! A shiver ran down his spine at the image of them wrestling in a more aggressive way before he forced his mind to get out of the gutter and focus on the task at hand.

Demon horde. They were fighting a demon horde.

With a learned hand, Kagome suddenly turned her weapon with a flick of her wrist and smacked the ever living shit out of a demon that had gotten too close for comfort purifying the bastard who exploded in a cloud of pink dust. Despite his half-assed efforts to stay online, Inuyasha’s executive functioning crashed. It was literally all he could do to keep his legs from going out from under him. His breathing heavy and shaking as he tried to keep control over his impulses.

Later. There’s be time for that later.

Later…

A involuntary moan passed over his lips while his eyes glazed over imagining a whole new world of possibilities before his whole body jerked when he remembered that they’d come here for a reason.

Demon horde. Right. Helping. A thing he should do.

Before he could fully collect himself, Inuyasha’s higher thought process flew the coop when, with what could only be described as a showing of brute strength, Kagome swung down one handed to land a kick that sent a demon flying before effortlessly pulling herself back up with awe inspiring grace.A normally unshakeable man crumpled to his knees - a prisoner of his own making as the miko took on the last two demons with a smirk that had shivers running down her husband’s spine.

Somewhere in the most distant part of his cloudy mind the thought once again occurred to him that he should probably be helping right now but when his wife made any help unnecessary with one last arrow which held such a punch it blew her hair back, his thoughts officially flatlined.

“Inuyasha?” Kagome breathed anxiously as she about turned her horse and made her way over to his shaking form, “Are you okay?”

Dilated amber eyes locked onto hers when she slid off her ride but before his wife could ask any further questions, his lips were on hers and with a few simple maneuvers, Inuyasha made sure that horse wasn’t the only thing his wife rode that day.

#inukag #inuyasha #kagome #inukag fanfiction #inuyasha fanfiction #post canon inuyasha #post canon

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taylorswifthongkong · 4 years ago

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Taylor Swift broke all her rules with Folklore — and gave herself a much-needed escape The pop star, one of EW's 2020 Entertainers of the Year, delves deep into her surprise eighth album, Rebekah Harkness, and a Joe Biden presidency. By Alex Suskind

“He is my co-writer on ‛Betty’ and ‛Exile,’” replies Taylor Swift with deadpan precision. The question Who is William Bowery? was, at the time we spoke, one of 2020’s great mysteries, right up there with the existence of Joe Exotic and the sudden arrival of murder hornets. An unknown writer credited on the year’s biggest album? It must be an alias.

Is he your brother?

“He’s William Bowery,” says Swift with a smile.

It's early November, after Election Day but before Swift eventually revealed Bowery's true identity to the world (the leading theory, that he was boyfriend Joe Alwyn, proved prescient). But, like all Swiftian riddles, it was fun to puzzle over for months, particularly in this hot mess of a year, when brief distractions are as comforting as a well-worn cardigan. Thankfully, the Bowery... erhm, Alwyn-assisted Folklore — a Swift project filled with muted pianos and whisper-quiet snares, recorded in secret with Jack Antonoff and the National’s Aaron Dessner — delivered.

“The only people who knew were the people I was making it with, my boyfriend, my family, and a small management team,” Swift, 30, tells EW of the album's hush-hush recording sessions. That gave the intimate Folklore a mystique all its own: the first surprise Taylor Swift album, one that prioritized fantastical tales over personal confessions.

“Early in quarantine, I started watching lots of films,” she explains. “Consuming other people’s storytelling opened this portal in my imagination and made me feel like, Why have I never created characters and intersecting storylines?” That’s how she ended up with three songs about an imagined love triangle (“Cardigan,” “Betty,” “August”), one about a clandestine romance (“Illicit Affairs”), and another chronicling a doomed relationship (“Exile”). Others tell of sumptuous real-life figures like Rebekah Harkness, a divorcee who married the heir to Standard Oil — and whose home Swift purchased 31 years after her death. The result, “The Last Great American Dynasty,” hones in on Harkness’ story, until Swift cleverly injects herself.

And yet, it wouldn’t be a Swift album without a few barbed postmortems over her own history. Notably, “My Tears Ricochet” and “Mad Woman," which touch on her former label head Scott Borchetta selling the masters to Swift’s catalog to her known nemesis Scooter Braun. Mere hours after our interview, the lyrics’ real-life origins took a surprising twist, when news broke that Swift’s music had once again been sold, to another private equity firm, for a reported $300 million. Though Swift ignored repeated requests for comment on the transaction, she did tweet a statement, hitting back at Braun while noting that she had begun re-recording her old albums — something she first promised in 2019 as a way of retaining agency over her creative legacy. (Later, she would tease a snippet of that reimagined work, with a new version of her hit 2008 single "Love Story.")

Like surprise-dropping Folklore, like pissing off the president by endorsing his opponents, like shooing away haters, Swift does what suits her. “I don’t think we often hear about women who did whatever the hell they wanted,” she says of Harkness — something Swift is clearly intent on changing. For her, that means basking in the world of, and favorable response to, Folklore. As she says in our interview, “I have this weird thing where, in order to create the next thing, I attack the previous thing. I don’t love that I do that, but it is the thing that has kept me pivoting to another world every time I make an album. But with this one, I still love it.”

TAYLOR SWIFT: I was. I wasn't expecting to make an album. Early on in quarantine, I started watching lots of films. We would watch a different movie every night. I'm ashamed to say I hadn't seen Pan's Labyrinth before. One night I'd watch that, then I'd watch L.A. Confidential, then we'd watch Rear Window, then we'd watch Jane Eyre. I feel like consuming other people's art and storytelling sort of opened this portal in my imagination and made me feel like, "Well, why have I never done this before? Why have I never created characters and intersecting storylines? And why haven't I ever sort of freed myself up to do that from a narrative standpoint?" There is something a little heavy about knowing when you put out an album, people are going to take it so literally that everything you say could be clickbait. It was really, really freeing to be able to just be inspired by worlds created by the films you watch or books you've read or places you've dreamed of or people that you've wondered about, not just being inspired by your own experience.

In that vain, what's it like to sit down and write something like “Betty,” which is told from the perspective of a 17-year-old boy?

That was huge for me. And I think it came from the fact that my co-writer, William Bowery [Joe Alwyn], is male — and he was the one who originally thought of the chorus melody. And hearing him sing it, I thought, "That sounds really cool." Obviously, I don't have a male voice, but I thought, "I could have a male perspective." Patty Griffin wrote this song, “Top of the World.” It's one of my favorite songs of all time, and it's from the perspective of this older man who has lived a life full of regret, and he's kind of taking stock of that regret. So, I thought, "This is something that people I am a huge fan of have done. This would be fun to kind of take this for a spin."

What are your favorite William Bowery conspiracies?

I love them all individually and equally. I love all the conspiracy theories around this album. [With] "Betty," Jack Antonoff would text me these articles and think pieces and in-depth Tumblr posts on what this love triangle meant to the person who had listened to it. And that's exactly what I was hoping would happen with this album. I wrote these stories for a specific reason and from a specific place about specific people that I imagined, but I wanted that to all change given who was listening to it. And I wanted it to start out as mine and become other people's. It's been really fun to watch.

I didn't think about any of that for the very first time. And a lot of this album was kind of distilled down to the purest version of what the story is. Songwriting on this album is exactly the way that I would write if I considered nothing else other than, "What words do I want to write? What stories do I want to tell? What melodies do I want to sing? What production is essential to tell those stories?" It was a very do-it-yourself experience. My management team, we created absolutely everything in advance — every lyric video, every individual album package. And then we called our label a week in advance and said, "Here's what we have.” The photo shoot was me and the photographer walking out into a field. I'd done my hair and makeup and brought some nightgowns. These experiences I was used to having with 100 people on set, commanding alongside other people in a very committee fashion — all of a sudden it was me and a photographer, or me and my DP. It was a new challenge, because I love collaboration. But there's something really fun about knowing what you can do if it's just you doing it.

Did you find it freeing?

I did. Every project involves different levels of collaboration, because on other albums there are things that my stylist will think of that I never would've thought of. But if I had all those people on the photo shoot, I would've had to have them quarantine away from their families for weeks on end, and I would've had to ask things of them that I didn't think were fair if I could figure out a way to do it [myself]. I had this idea for the [Folklore album cover] that it would be this girl sleepwalking through the forest in a nightgown in 1830 [laughs]. Very specific. A pioneer woman sleepwalking at night. I made a moodboard and sent it to Beth [Garrabrant], who I had never worked with before, who shoots only on film. We were just carrying bags across a field and putting the bags of film down, and then taking pictures. It was a blast.

Well, Aaron is one of the most effortlessly prolific creators I've ever worked with. It's really mind-blowing. And every time I've spoken to an artist since this whole process [began], I said, "You need to work with him. It'll change the way you create." He would send me these — he calls them sketches, but it's basically an instrumental track. the second day — the day after I texted him and said, "Hey, would you ever want to work together?" — he sent me this file of probably 30 of these instrumentals and every single one of them was one of the most interesting, exciting things I had ever heard. Music can be beautiful, but it can be lacking that evocative nature. There was something about everything he created that is an immediate image in my head or melody that I came up with. So much so that I'd start writing as soon as I heard a new one. And oftentimes what I would send back would inspire him to make more instrumentals and then send me that one. And then I wrote the song and it started to shape the project, form-fitted and customized to what we wanted to do.

It was weird because I had never made an album and not played it for my girlfriends or told my friends. The only people who knew were the people that I was making it with, my boyfriend, my family, and then my management team. So that's the smallest number of people I've ever had know about something. I'm usually playing it for everyone that I'm friends with. So I had a lot of friends texting me things like, "Why didn't you say on our everyday FaceTimes you were making a record?"

Was it nice to be able to keep it a secret?

Well, it felt like it was only my thing. It felt like such an inner world I was escaping to every day that it almost didn't feel like an album. Because I wasn't making a song and finishing it and going, "Oh my God, that is catchy.” I wasn't making these things with any purpose in mind. And so it was almost like having it just be mine was this really sweet, nice, pure part of the world as everything else in the world was burning and crashing and feeling this sickness and sadness. I almost didn't process it as an album. This was just my daydream space.

Does it still feel like that?

Yeah, because I love it so much. I have this weird thing that I do when I create something where in order to create the next thing I kind of, in my head, attack the previous thing. I don't love that I do that but it is the thing that has kept me pivoting to another world every time I make an album. But with this one, I just still love it. I'm so proud of it. And so that feels very foreign to me. That doesn't feel like a normal experience that I've had with releasing albums.

When did you first learn about Rebekah Harkness?

Oh, I learned about her as soon as I was being walked through [her former Rhode Island] home. I got the house when I was in my early twenties as a place for my family to congregate and be together. I was told about her, I think, by the real estate agent who was walking us through the property. And as soon as I found out about her, I wanted to know everything I could. So I started reading. I found her so interesting. And then as more parallels began to develop between our two lives — being the lady that lives in that house on the hill that everybody gets to gossip about — I was always looking for an opportunity to write about her. And I finally found it.

I love that you break the fourth wall in the song. Did you go in thinking you’d include yourself in the story?

I think that in my head, I always wanted to do a country music, standard narrative device, which is: the first verse you sing about someone else, the second verse you sing about someone else who's even closer to you, and then in the third verse, you go, "Surprise! It was me.” You bring it personal for the last verse. And I'd always thought that if I were to tell that story, I would want to include the similarities — our lives or our reputations or our scandals.

How often did you regale friends about the history of Rebekah and Holiday House while hanging out at Holiday House?

Anyone who's been there before knows that I do “The Tour,” in quotes, where I show everyone through the house. And I tell them different anecdotes about each room, because I've done that much research on this house and this woman. So in every single room, there's a different anecdote about Rebekah Harkness. If you have a mixed group of people who've been there before and people who haven't, [the people who’ve been there] are like, "Oh, she's going to do the tour. She's got to tell you the story about how the ballerinas used to practice on the lawn.” And they'll go get a drink and skip it because it's the same every time. But for me, I'm telling the story with the same electric enthusiasm, because it's just endlessly entertaining to me that this fabulous woman lived there. She just did whatever she wanted.

I found myself being very triggered by any stories, movies, or narratives revolving around divorce, which felt weird because I haven't experienced it directly. There’s no reason it should cause me so much pain, but all of a sudden it felt like something I had been through. I think that happens any time you've been in a 15-year relationship and it ends in a messy, upsetting way. So I wrote “My Tears Ricochet” and I was using a lot of imagery that I had conjured up while comparing a relationship ending to when people end an actual marriage. All of a sudden this person that you trusted more than anyone in the world is the person that can hurt you the worst. Then all of a sudden the things that you have been through together, hurt. All of a sudden, the person who was your best friend is now your biggest nemesis, etc. etc. etc. I think I wrote some of the first lyrics to that song after watching Marriage Story and hearing about when marriages go wrong and end in such a catastrophic way. So these songs are in some ways imaginary, in some ways not, and in some ways both.

How did it feel to drop an F-bomb on "Mad Woman"?

F---ing fantastic.

And that’s the first time you ever recorded one on a record, right?

Yeah. Every rule book was thrown out. I always had these rules in my head and one of them was, You haven't done this before, so you can't ever do this. “Well, you've never had an explicit sticker, so you can't ever have an explicit sticker.” But that was one of the times where I felt like you need to follow the language and you need to follow the storyline. And if the storyline and the language match up and you end up saying the F-word, just go for it. I wasn't adhering to any of the guidelines that I had placed on myself. I decided to just make what I wanted to make. And I'm really happy that the fans were stoked about that because I think they could feel that. I'm not blaming anyone else for me restricting myself in the past. That was all, I guess, making what I want to make. I think my fans could feel that I opened the gate and ran out of the pasture for the first time, which I'm glad they picked up on because they're very intuitive.

Let’s talk about “Epiphany.” The first verse is a nod to your grandfather, Dean, who fought in World War II. What does his story mean to you personally?

I wanted to write about him for awhile. He died when I was very young, but my dad would always tell this story that the only thing that his dad would ever say about the war was when somebody would ask him, "Why do you have such a positive outlook on life?" My grandfather would reply, "Well, I'm not supposed to be here. I shouldn't be here." My dad and his brothers always kind of imagined that what he had experienced was really awful and traumatic and that he'd seen a lot of terrible things. So when they did research, they learned that he had fought at the Battles of Guadalcanal, at Cape Gloucester, at Talasea, at Okinawa. He had seen a lot of heavy fire and casualties — all of the things that nightmares are made of. He was one of the first people to sign up for the war. But you know, these are things that you can only imagine that a lot of people in that generation didn't speak about because, a) they didn't want people that they came home to to worry about them, and b) it just was so bad that it was the actual definition of unspeakable.

I mean, you just immediately think of the health workers who are putting their lives on the line — and oftentimes losing their lives. If they make it out of this, if they see the other side of it, there's going to be a lot of trauma that comes with that; there's going to be things that they witnessed that they will never be able to un-see. And that was the connection that I drew. I did a lot of research on my grandfather in the beginning of quarantine, and it hit me very quickly that we've got a version of that trauma happening right now in our hospitals. God, you hope people would respect it and would understand that going out for a night isn't worth the ripple effect that it causes. But obviously we're seeing that a lot of people don't seem to have their eyes open to that — or if they do, a lot of people don't care, which is upsetting.

You had the Lover Fest East and West scheduled this year. How hard has it been to both not perform for your fans this year, and see the music industry at large go through such a brutal change?

It's confusing. It's hard to watch. I think that maybe me wanting to make as much music as possible during this time was a way for me to feel like I could reach out my hand and touch my fans, even if I couldn't physically reach out or take a picture with them. We've had a lot of different, amazing, fun, sort of underground traditions we've built over the years that involve a lot of human interaction, and so I have no idea what's going to happen with touring; none of us do. And that's a scary thing. You can't look to somebody in the music industry who's been around a long time, or an expert touring manager or promoter and [ask] what's going to happen and have them give you an answer. I think we're all just trying to keep our eyes on the horizon and see what it looks like. So we're just kind of sitting tight and trying to take care of whatever creative spark might exist and trying to figure out how to reach our fans in other ways, because we just can't do that right now.

When you are able to perform again, do you have plans on resurfacing a Lover Fest-type event?

I don't know what incarnation it'll take and I really would need to sit down and think about it for a good solid couple of months before I figured out the answer. Because whatever we do, I want it to be something that is thoughtful and will make the fans happy and I hope I can achieve that. I'm going to try really hard to.

In addition to recording an album, you spent this year supporting Joe Biden and Kamala Harris in the election. Where were you when it was called in their favor?

Well, when the results were coming in, I was actually at the property where we shot the Entertainment Weekly cover. I was hanging out with my photographer friend, Beth, and the wonderful couple that owned the farm where we [were]. And we realized really early into the night that we weren't going to get an accurate picture of the results. Then, a couple of days later, I was on a video shoot, but I was directing, and I was standing there with my face shield and mask on next to my director of photography, Rodrigo Prieto. And I just remember a news alert coming up on my phone that said, "Biden is our next president. He's won the election." And I showed it to Rodrigo and he said, "I'm always going to remember the moment that we learned this." And I looked around, and people's face shields were starting to fog up because a lot of people were really misty-eyed and emotional, and it was not loud. It wasn't popping bottles of champagne. It was this moment of quiet, cautious elation and relief.

Do you ever think about what Folklore would have sounded like if you, Aaron, and Jack had been in the same room?

I think about it all the time. I think that a lot of what has happened with the album has to do with us all being in a collective emotional place. Obviously everybody's lives have different complexities and whatnot, but I think most of us were feeling really shaken up and really out of place and confused and in need of something comforting all at the same time. And for me, that thing that was comforting was making music that felt sort of like I was trying to hug my fans through the speakers. That was truly my intent. Just trying to hug them when I can't hug them.

I was really excited about "August slipped away into a moment of time/August sipped away like a bottle of wine." That was a song where Jack sent me the instrumental and I wrote the song pretty much on the spot; it just was an intuitive thing. And that was actually the first song that I wrote of the "Betty" triangle. So the Betty songs are "August," "Cardigan," and "Betty." "August" was actually the first one, which is strange because it's the song from the other girl's perspective.

Yeah, I assumed you wrote "Cardigan" first.

It would be safe to assume that "Cardigan" would be first, but it wasn't. It was very strange how it happened, but it kind of pieced together one song at a time, starting with "August," where I kind of wanted to explore the element of This is from the perspective of a girl who was having her first brush with love. And then all of a sudden she's treated like she's the other girl, because there was another situation that had already been in place, but "August" girl thought she was really falling in love. It kind of explores the idea of the undefined relationship. As humans, we're all encouraged to just be cool and just let it happen, and don't ask what the relationship is — Are we exclusive? But if you are chill about it, especially when you're young, you learn the very hard lesson that if you don't define something, oftentimes they can gaslight you into thinking it was nothing at all, and that it never happened. And how do you mourn the loss of something once it ends, if you're being made to believe that it never happened at all?

"I almost didn't process it as an album," says Taylor Swift of making Folklore. "And it's still hard for me to process as an entity or a commodity, because [it] was just my daydream space."

I'm really proud of that one too. I heard the track immediately. Aaron sent it to me, and it had this immediate sense of serenity running through it. The first word that popped into my head was peace, but I thought that it would be too on-the-nose to sing about being calm, or to sing about serenity, or to sing about finding peace with someone. Because you have this very conflicted, very dramatic conflict-written lyric paired with this very, very calming sound of the instrumental. But, "The devil's in the details," is one of those phrases that I've written down over the years. That's a common phrase that is used in the English language every day. And I just thought it sounded really cool because of the D, D sound. And I thought, "I'll hang onto those in a list, and then, I'll finally find the right place for them in a story." I think that's how a lot of people feel where it's like, "Yeah, the devil's in the details. Everybody's complex when you look under the hood of the car." But basically saying, "I'm there for you if you want that, if this complexity is what you want."

There's another clever turn-of-phrase on "This is Me Trying." "I didn't know if you'd care if I came back/I have a lot of regrets about that." That feels like a nod toward your fans, and some of the feelings you had about retreating from the public sphere.

Absolutely. I think I was writing from three different characters' perspectives, one who's going through that; I was channeling the emotions I was feeling in 2016, 2017, where I just felt like I was worth absolutely nothing. And then, the second verse is about dealing with addiction and issues with struggling every day. And every second of the day, you're trying not to fall into old patterns, and nobody around you can see that, and no one gives you credit for it. And then, the third verse, I was thinking, what would the National do? What lyric would Matt Berninger write? What chords would the National play? And it's funny because I've since played this song for Aaron, and he's like, "That's not what we would've done at all." He's like, "I love that song, but that's totally different than what we would've done with it."

Yeah, I was at the show where they were playing through I Am Easy to Find. What I loved about [that album] was they had female vocalists singing from female perspectives, and that triggered and fired something in me where I thought, "I've got to play with different perspectives because that is so intriguing when you hear a female perspective come in from a band where you're used to only hearing a male perspective." It just sparked something in me. And obviously, you mentioning the National is the reason why Folklore came to be. So, thank you for that, Alex.

I'm here for all of your songwriting muse needs in the future.

I can't wait to see what comes out of this interview.

This interview has been edited and condensed.

For more on our Entertainers of the Year and Best & Worst of 2020, order the January issue of Entertainment Weekly or find it on newsstands beginning Dec. 18. (You can also pick up the full set of six covers here.) Don’t forget to subscribe for more exclusive interviews and photos, only in EW.

#ew #entertainment weekly #article #interview #folklore promo #folklore interview #quote #aaron dessner #jack antonoff #joe alwyn

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path-of-my-childhood · 4 years ago

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Taylor Swift Broke All Her Rules With Folklore - And Gave Herself A Much-Needed Escape

By: Alex Suskind for Entertainment Weekly Date: December 8th 2020 (EW's 2020 Entertainers of the Year cover)

The pop star, one of EW's 2020 Entertainers of the Year, delves deep into her surprise eighth album, Rebekah Harkness, and a Joe Biden presidency.

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Is he your brother?

“He’s William Bowery,” says Swift with a smile.

It's early November, after Election Day but before Swift eventually revealed Bowery's true identity to the world (the leading theory, that he was boyfriend Joe Alwyn, proved prescient). But, like all Swiftian riddles, it was fun to puzzle over for months, particularly in this hot mess of a year, when brief distractions are as comforting as a well-worn cardigan. Thankfully, the Bowery... erhm, Alwyn-assisted Folklore - a Swift project filled with muted pianos and whisper-quiet snares, recorded in secret with Jack Antonoff and the National’s Aaron Dessner - delivered.

“Early in quarantine, I started watching lots of films,” she explains. “Consuming other people’s storytelling opened this portal in my imagination and made me feel like, Why have I never created characters and intersecting storylines?” That’s how she ended up with three songs about an imagined love triangle (“Cardigan,” “Betty,” “August”), one about a clandestine romance (“Illicit Affairs”), and another chronicling a doomed relationship (“Exile”). Others tell of sumptuous real-life figures like Rebekah Harkness, a divorcee who married the heir to Standard Oil - and whose home Swift purchased 31 years after her death. The result, “The Last Great American Dynasty,” hones in on Harkness’ story, until Swift cleverly injects herself.

And yet, it wouldn’t be a Swift album without a few barbed postmortems over her own history. Notably, “My Tears Ricochet” and “Mad Woman," which touch on her former label head Scott Borchetta selling the masters to Swift’s catalog to her known nemesis Scooter Braun. Mere hours after our interview, the lyrics’ real-life origins took a surprising twist, when news broke that Swift’s music had once again been sold, to another private equity firm, for a reported $300 million. Though Swift ignored repeated requests for comment on the transaction, she did tweet a statement, hitting back at Braun while noting that she had begun re-recording her old albums - something she first promised in 2019 as a way of retaining agency over her creative legacy. (Later, she would tease a snippet of that reimagined work, with a new version of her hit 2008 single "Love Story.")

Like surprise-dropping Folklore, like pissing off the president by endorsing his opponents, like shooing away haters, Swift does what suits her. “I don’t think we often hear about women who did whatever the hell they wanted,” she says of Harkness - something Swift is clearly intent on changing. For her, that means basking in the world of, and favorable response to, Folklore. As she says in our interview, “I have this weird thing where, in order to create the next thing, I attack the previous thing. I don’t love that I do that, but it is the thing that has kept me pivoting to another world every time I make an album. But with this one, I still love it.”

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: We’ve spent the year quarantined in our houses, trying to stay healthy and avoiding friends and family. Were you surprised by your ability to create and release a full album in the middle of a pandemic? TAYLOR SWIFT: I was. I wasn't expecting to make an album. Early on in quarantine, I started watching lots of films. We would watch a different movie every night. I'm ashamed to say I hadn't seen Pan's Labyrinth before. One night I'd watch that, then I'd watch L.A. Confidential, then we'd watch Rear Window, then we'd watch Jane Eyre. I feel like consuming other people's art and storytelling sort of opened this portal in my imagination and made me feel like, "Well, why have I never done this before? Why have I never created characters and intersecting storylines? And why haven't I ever sort of freed myself up to do that from a narrative standpoint?" There is something a little heavy about knowing when you put out an album, people are going to take it so literally that everything you say could be clickbait. It was really, really freeing to be able to just be inspired by worlds created by the films you watch or books you've read or places you've dreamed of or people that you've wondered about, not just being inspired by your own experience.

In that vein, what's it like to sit down and write something like “Betty,” which is told from the perspective of a 17-year-old boy? That was huge for me. And I think it came from the fact that my co-writer, William Bowery [Joe Alwyn], is male — and he was the one who originally thought of the chorus melody. And hearing him sing it, I thought, "That sounds really cool." Obviously, I don't have a male voice, but I thought, "I could have a male perspective." Patty Griffin wrote this song, “Top of the World.” It's one of my favorite songs of all time, and it's from the perspective of this older man who has lived a life full of regret, and he's kind of taking stock of that regret. So, I thought, "This is something that people I am a huge fan of have done. This would be fun to kind of take this for a spin."

What are your favorite William Bowery conspiracies? I love them all individually and equally. I love all the conspiracy theories around this album. [With] "Betty," Jack Antonoff would text me these articles and think pieces and in-depth Tumblr posts on what this love triangle meant to the person who had listened to it. And that's exactly what I was hoping would happen with this album. I wrote these stories for a specific reason and from a specific place about specific people that I imagined, but I wanted that to all change given who was listening to it. And I wanted it to start out as mine and become other people's. It's been really fun to watch.

One of the other unique things about Folklore — the parameters around it were completely different from anything you'd done. There was no long roll out, no stadium-sized pop anthems, no aiming for the radio-friendly single. How fearful were you in avoiding what had worked in the past? I didn't think about any of that for the very first time. And a lot of this album was kind of distilled down to the purest version of what the story is. Songwriting on this album is exactly the way that I would write if I considered nothing else other than, "What words do I want to write? What stories do I want to tell? What melodies do I want to sing? What production is essential to tell those stories?" It was a very do-it-yourself experience. My management team, we created absolutely everything in advance — every lyric video, every individual album package. And then we called our label a week in advance and said, "Here's what we have.” The photo shoot was me and the photographer walking out into a field. I'd done my hair and makeup and brought some nightgowns. These experiences I was used to having with 100 people on set, commanding alongside other people in a very committee fashion — all of a sudden it was me and a photographer, or me and my DP. It was a new challenge, because I love collaboration. But there's something really fun about knowing what you can do if it's just you doing it.

Did you find it freeing? I did. Every project involves different levels of collaboration, because on other albums there are things that my stylist will think of that I never would've thought of. But if I had all those people on the photo shoot, I would've had to have them quarantine away from their families for weeks on end, and I would've had to ask things of them that I didn't think were fair if I could figure out a way to do it [myself]. I had this idea for the [Folklore album cover] that it would be this girl sleepwalking through the forest in a nightgown in 1830 [laughs]. Very specific. A pioneer woman sleepwalking at night. I made a moodboard and sent it to Beth [Garrabrant], who I had never worked with before, who shoots only on film. We were just carrying bags across a field and putting the bags of film down, and then taking pictures. It was a blast.

Folklore includes plenty of intimate acoustic echoes to what you've done in the past. But there are also a lot of new sonics here, too — these quiet, powerful, intricately layered harmonics. What was it like to receive the music from Aaron and try to write lyrics on top of it? Well, Aaron is one of the most effortlessly prolific creators I've ever worked with. It's really mind-blowing. And every time I've spoken to an artist since this whole process [began], I said, "You need to work with him. It'll change the way you create." He would send me these — he calls them sketches, but it's basically an instrumental track. the second day — the day after I texted him and said, "Hey, would you ever want to work together?" — he sent me this file of probably 30 of these instrumentals and every single one of them was one of the most interesting, exciting things I had ever heard. Music can be beautiful, but it can be lacking that evocative nature. There was something about everything he created that is an immediate image in my head or melody that I came up with. So much so that I'd start writing as soon as I heard a new one. And oftentimes what I would send back would inspire him to make more instrumentals and then send me that one. And then I wrote the song and it started to shape the project, form-fitted and customized to what we wanted to do.

Was it nice to be able to keep it a secret? Well, it felt like it was only my thing. It felt like such an inner world I was escaping to every day that it almost didn't feel like an album. Because I wasn't making a song and finishing it and going, "Oh my God, that is catchy.” I wasn't making these things with any purpose in mind. And so it was almost like having it just be mine was this really sweet, nice, pure part of the world as everything else in the world was burning and crashing and feeling this sickness and sadness. I almost didn't process it as an album. This was just my daydream space.

Does it still feel like that? Yeah, because I love it so much. I have this weird thing that I do when I create something where in order to create the next thing I kind of, in my head, attack the previous thing. I don't love that I do that but it is the thing that has kept me pivoting to another world every time I make an album. But with this one, I just still love it. I'm so proud of it. And so that feels very foreign to me. That doesn't feel like a normal experience that I've had with releasing albums.

When did you first learn about Rebekah Harkness? Oh, I learned about her as soon as I was being walked through [her former Rhode Island] home. I got the house when I was in my early twenties as a place for my family to congregate and be together. I was told about her, I think, by the real estate agent who was walking us through the property. And as soon as I found out about her, I wanted to know everything I could. So I started reading. I found her so interesting. And then as more parallels began to develop between our two lives — being the lady that lives in that house on the hill that everybody gets to gossip about — I was always looking for an opportunity to write about her. And I finally found it.

I love that you break the fourth wall in the song. Did you go in thinking you’d include yourself in the story? I think that in my head, I always wanted to do a country music, standard narrative device, which is: the first verse you sing about someone else, the second verse you sing about someone else who's even closer to you, and then in the third verse, you go, "Surprise! It was me.” You bring it personal for the last verse. And I'd always thought that if I were to tell that story, I would want to include the similarities — our lives or our reputations or our scandals.

How often did you regale friends about the history of Rebekah and Holiday House while hanging out at Holiday House? Anyone who's been there before knows that I do “The Tour,” in quotes, where I show everyone through the house. And I tell them different anecdotes about each room, because I've done that much research on this house and this woman. So in every single room, there's a different anecdote about Rebekah Harkness. If you have a mixed group of people who've been there before and people who haven't, [the people who’ve been there] are like, "Oh, she's going to do the tour. She's got to tell you the story about how the ballerinas used to practice on the lawn.” And they'll go get a drink and skip it because it's the same every time. But for me, I'm telling the story with the same electric enthusiasm, because it's just endlessly entertaining to me that this fabulous woman lived there. She just did whatever she wanted.

There are a handful of songs on Folklore that feel like pretty clear nods to your personal life over the last year, including your relationships with Scott Borchetta and Scooter Braun. How long did it take to crystallize the feelings you had around both of them into “My Tears Ricochet” or “Mad Woman”? I found myself being very triggered by any stories, movies, or narratives revolving around divorce, which felt weird because I haven't experienced it directly. There’s no reason it should cause me so much pain, but all of a sudden it felt like something I had been through. I think that happens any time you've been in a 15-year relationship and it ends in a messy, upsetting way. So I wrote “My Tears Ricochet” and I was using a lot of imagery that I had conjured up while comparing a relationship ending to when people end an actual marriage. All of a sudden this person that you trusted more than anyone in the world is the person that can hurt you the worst. Then all of a sudden the things that you have been through together, hurt. All of a sudden, the person who was your best friend is now your biggest nemesis, etc. etc. etc. I think I wrote some of the first lyrics to that song after watching Marriage Story and hearing about when marriages go wrong and end in such a catastrophic way. So these songs are in some ways imaginary, in some ways not, and in some ways both.

How did it feel to drop an F-bomb on "Mad Woman"? F---ing fantastic.

And that’s the first time you ever recorded one on a record, right? Yeah. Every rule book was thrown out. I always had these rules in my head and one of them was, You haven't done this before, so you can't ever do this. “Well, you've never had an explicit sticker, so you can't ever have an explicit sticker.” But that was one of the times where I felt like you need to follow the language and you need to follow the storyline. And if the storyline and the language match up and you end up saying the F-word, just go for it. I wasn't adhering to any of the guidelines that I had placed on myself. I decided to just make what I wanted to make. And I'm really happy that the fans were stoked about that because I think they could feel that. I'm not blaming anyone else for me restricting myself in the past. That was all, I guess, making what I want to make. I think my fans could feel that I opened the gate and ran out of the pasture for the first time, which I'm glad they picked up on because they're very intuitive.

Let’s talk about “Epiphany.” The first verse is a nod to your grandfather, Dean, who fought in World War II. What does his story mean to you personally? I wanted to write about him for awhile. He died when I was very young, but my dad would always tell this story that the only thing that his dad would ever say about the war was when somebody would ask him, "Why do you have such a positive outlook on life?" My grandfather would reply, "Well, I'm not supposed to be here. I shouldn't be here." My dad and his brothers always kind of imagined that what he had experienced was really awful and traumatic and that he'd seen a lot of terrible things. So when they did research, they learned that he had fought at the Battles of Guadalcanal, at Cape Gloucester, at Talasea, at Okinawa. He had seen a lot of heavy fire and casualties — all of the things that nightmares are made of. He was one of the first people to sign up for the war. But you know, these are things that you can only imagine that a lot of people in that generation didn't speak about because, a) they didn't want people that they came home to to worry about them, and b) it just was so bad that it was the actual definition of unspeakable.

That theme continues in the next verse, which is a pretty overt nod to what’s been happening during COVID. As someone who lives in Nashville, how difficult has it been to see folks on Lower Broadway crowding the bars without masks? I mean, you just immediately think of the health workers who are putting their lives on the line — and oftentimes losing their lives. If they make it out of this, if they see the other side of it, there's going to be a lot of trauma that comes with that; there's going to be things that they witnessed that they will never be able to un-see. And that was the connection that I drew. I did a lot of research on my grandfather in the beginning of quarantine, and it hit me very quickly that we've got a version of that trauma happening right now in our hospitals. God, you hope people would respect it and would understand that going out for a night isn't worth the ripple effect that it causes. But obviously we're seeing that a lot of people don't seem to have their eyes open to that — or if they do, a lot of people don't care, which is upsetting.

You had the Lover Fest East and West scheduled this year. How hard has it been to both not perform for your fans this year, and see the music industry at large go through such a brutal change? It's confusing. It's hard to watch. I think that maybe me wanting to make as much music as possible during this time was a way for me to feel like I could reach out my hand and touch my fans, even if I couldn't physically reach out or take a picture with them. We've had a lot of different, amazing, fun, sort of underground traditions we've built over the years that involve a lot of human interaction, and so I have no idea what's going to happen with touring; none of us do. And that's a scary thing. You can't look to somebody in the music industry who's been around a long time, or an expert touring manager or promoter and [ask] what's going to happen and have them give you an answer. I think we're all just trying to keep our eyes on the horizon and see what it looks like. So we're just kind of sitting tight and trying to take care of whatever creative spark might exist and trying to figure out how to reach our fans in other ways, because we just can't do that right now.

When you are able to perform again, do you have plans on resurfacing a Lover Fest-type event? I don't know what incarnation it'll take and I really would need to sit down and think about it for a good solid couple of months before I figured out the answer. Because whatever we do, I want it to be something that is thoughtful and will make the fans happy and I hope I can achieve that. I'm going to try really hard to.

In addition to recording an album, you spent this year supporting Joe Biden and Kamala Harris in the election. Where were you when it was called in their favor? Well, when the results were coming in, I was actually at the property where we shot the Entertainment Weekly cover. I was hanging out with my photographer friend, Beth, and the wonderful couple that owned the farm where we [were]. And we realized really early into the night that we weren't going to get an accurate picture of the results. Then, a couple of days later, I was on a video shoot, but I was directing, and I was standing there with my face shield and mask on next to my director of photography, Rodrigo Prieto. And I just remember a news alert coming up on my phone that said, "Biden is our next president. He's won the election." And I showed it to Rodrigo and he said, "I'm always going to remember the moment that we learned this." And I looked around, and people's face shields were starting to fog up because a lot of people were really misty-eyed and emotional, and it was not loud. It wasn't popping bottles of champagne. It was this moment of quiet, cautious elation and relief.

Do you ever think about what Folklore would have sounded like if you, Aaron, and Jack had been in the same room? I think about it all the time. I think that a lot of what has happened with the album has to do with us all being in a collective emotional place. Obviously everybody's lives have different complexities and whatnot, but I think most of us were feeling really shaken up and really out of place and confused and in need of something comforting all at the same time. And for me, that thing that was comforting was making music that felt sort of like I was trying to hug my fans through the speakers. That was truly my intent. Just trying to hug them when I can't hug them.

I wanted to talk about some of the lyrics on Folklore. One of my favorite pieces of wordplay is in “August”: that flip of "sipped away like a bottle of wine/slipped away like a moment in time.” Was there an "aha moment" for you while writing that? I was really excited about "August slipped away into a moment of time/August sipped away like a bottle of wine." That was a song where Jack sent me the instrumental and I wrote the song pretty much on the spot; it just was an intuitive thing. And that was actually the first song that I wrote of the "Betty" triangle. So the Betty songs are "August," "Cardigan," and "Betty." "August" was actually the first one, which is strange because it's the song from the other girl's perspective.

Yeah, I assumed you wrote "Cardigan" first. It would be safe to assume that "Cardigan" would be first, but it wasn't. It was very strange how it happened, but it kind of pieced together one song at a time, starting with "August," where I kind of wanted to explore the element of This is from the perspective of a girl who was having her first brush with love. And then all of a sudden she's treated like she's the other girl, because there was another situation that had already been in place, but "August" girl thought she was really falling in love. It kind of explores the idea of the undefined relationship. As humans, we're all encouraged to just be cool and just let it happen, and don't ask what the relationship is — Are we exclusive? But if you are chill about it, especially when you're young, you learn the very hard lesson that if you don't define something, oftentimes they can gaslight you into thinking it was nothing at all, and that it never happened. And how do you mourn the loss of something once it ends, if you're being made to believe that it never happened at all?

On the flip side, "Peace" is bit more defined in terms of how one approaches a relationship. There's this really striking line, "The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me/Would it be enough if I can never give you peace?" How did that line come to you? I'm really proud of that one too. I heard the track immediately. Aaron sent it to me, and it had this immediate sense of serenity running through it. The first word that popped into my head was peace, but I thought that it would be too on-the-nose to sing about being calm, or to sing about serenity, or to sing about finding peace with someone. Because you have this very conflicted, very dramatic conflict-written lyric paired with this very, very calming sound of the instrumental. But, "The devil's in the details," is one of those phrases that I've written down over the years. That's a common phrase that is used in the English language every day. And I just thought it sounded really cool because of the D, D sound. And I thought, "I'll hang onto those in a list, and then, I'll finally find the right place for them in a story." I think that's how a lot of people feel where it's like, "Yeah, the devil's in the details. Everybody's complex when you look under the hood of the car." But basically saying, "I'm there for you if you want that, if this complexity is what you want."

There's another clever turn of phrase on "This is Me Trying." "I didn't know if you'd care if I came back/I have a lot of regrets about that." That feels like a nod toward your fans, and some of the feelings you had about retreating from the public sphere. Absolutely. I think I was writing from three different characters' perspectives, one who's going through that; I was channeling the emotions I was feeling in 2016, 2017, where I just felt like I was worth absolutely nothing. And then, the second verse is about dealing with addiction and issues with struggling every day. And every second of the day, you're trying not to fall into old patterns, and nobody around you can see that, and no one gives you credit for it. And then, the third verse, I was thinking, what would the National do? What lyric would Matt Berninger write? What chords would the National play? And it's funny because I've since played this song for Aaron, and he's like, "That's not what we would've done at all." He's like, "I love that song, but that's totally different than what we would've done with it."

When we last spoke, in April 2019, we were talking about albums we were listening to at the time and you professed your love for the National and I Am Easy to Find. Two months later, you met up with Aaron at their concert, and now, we're here talking about the National again. Yeah, I was at the show where they were playing through I Am Easy to Find. What I loved about [that album] was they had female vocalists singing from female perspectives, and that triggered and fired something in me where I thought, "I've got to play with different perspectives because that is so intriguing when you hear a female perspective come in from a band where you're used to only hearing a male perspective." It just sparked something in me. And obviously, you mentioning the National is the reason why Folklore came to be. So, thank you for that, Alex.

I'm here for all of your songwriting muse needs in the future. I can't wait to see what comes out of this interview.

*** For more on our Entertainers of the Year and Best & Worst of 2020, order the January issue of Entertainment Weekly or find it on newsstands beginning Dec. 18. (You can also pick up the full set of six covers here.) Don’t forget to subscribe for more exclusive interviews and photos, only in EW.

#taylor swift #interview #entertainment weekly #folklore album #folklore era #video

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sketchfanda · 5 years ago

Text

Rate the Champions

Based off of and inspired by @gale-of-the-nomads and @nerdasaurus1200 rate the akuma,for @beebeebombam Lady Fairy AU,or in this case,the blind butterfly girl herself and her champions. According to wha I’ve learned from posts in bee’s posts on the tag,many of the champions like Alya as Lady Wifi,Max as the Gamer,and Nate as Illuscreator aren’t all too different from canon in tems of their abilities and design. mostly just my way of giving some attention and notice to this AU,which for a guy like me who’s pretty recent into coming into this fandom,but coming to know enough,it’s a fun and sweet AU especially for the fact it gives poor Nooroo much better than what he’s got in canon.

serously,poor little guy,and this is like the only gif I ever find for him. So let’s begin with the blind butterfly princess herself

Marinette Dupain-Cheng,blind but as in canon,a girl with a big heart and a deep sense of empathy,wielder of the moth/butterfly Miraculous,Paris’ maker of heroes Lady Fairy

Design: A+ it really plays up th butterfly theme and motif,her mask being a blindfold is a very nice touch that serves to highlight and remind of her condition. The shades of purple and indigo work well to give a outfit that is as graceful,elegant and posied as the animal its based on and suits her name,coming off like a figure out of a fairy tale plus such glitter and sparkle

Powers: A,it’s the butterfly/moth brooch,as in canon it grants the wielder the ability to empower others and make them superheroes. Of course in this AU it’s made to be used as intended,unlike Gabriel’s selfish,wreckless evil purposes. Especially as unlike Hawkmoth,lady fairy serves more to focus on her champions’ positive emotions,guide them and motivate them rather than force control and obedience into being her puppets and twist and manipulate them at their lowest points. while it’s stated that the moth miraculous can utilise both positive and negative emotions,I feel focusing on the positive makes for a better contrast to how Hawkmoth always seeks out the negative. Bee of course adds a sweet touch to how the wielder can see through their chosen’s eyes,allowing the blind marinette to see the world she normally wouldn’t be able to due to her blindness,giviing her a growing appreciation and love for her city,her loved ones and the colours of life.

theme (As in their gimmick):A.the name,motif and design of the outfit all work together,making her seem like a figure from a court of nobility from a fairy tale

Effectiveness:A.when all seems grim,always know if you have a strong heart,this sweet soul will give you the means to do what’s right,because she believes in you. as a true butterfly wielder should.

Personal enjoyment: A I’ve seen maybe one or two,if not near half a dozen fanarts based on kwami swap with Mari as the butterfly miraculous wielder. This is my personal favourite of the bunch in terms of concept and design.

next we come to the villain of the story,grand iceking douchebag and shitty parent,the socially reclusive bastard Gabriel Aggreste,aka Le Paon,wilder of the peacock miraculous,which I assume isn’t as damaged as it is canon Design- A,very sinister and classy,but different and unique compared to his hawkmoth outfit,but just as enigmatic. has a somewhat sens of style and class to it,which makes sense given peacocks and their natural flamboyance and Gabriel’s status as a fashion designer

Powers- A.as in canon,the peacock brooch is similar but different to the buttefly in that rather than use someone’s emotions to empower them,it takes a partciular emotion they’re feeling and gives it a shape and form,granting the wielder a soldier they can command and control. making it range and very in terms of its shape and form. And unluckily,one needn’t be willing for gabriel to create a sentimonster,not that he cares,fitting given his self serving goal.

Theme- A,sinister yet classy looking individual,with an ability to enforce his will on others,much like he enforces and exerts control over his own’s son’s life. it’s one thing when hetting akumatised twisted you into being evil,but one can barely imagine the horror of being taken advantage of at your emotional low,watching as your anger,or sadness,etc are given the form of a monster that will tear all of paris apart to fulfill a mad man’s goals

Effectiveness - A. like in canon,gabriel is just hiding away,unseen by all of Paris as he keeps his sense tuned for someone at their emotional low,looking to control them much like how he controls his own son’s life. because what he believes in and thinks are right matter most,and for the ones he loves,or passes for love,all of Paris will suffer long as he gets what he wants

Personal enjoyment of the akuma-Be it the moth or the peacoc,Gabriel is as he will always be,a cold distant selfish man whose misguided sense of love and family will burn the world.

Nathalie Sancoeur,personal assistant to the villain himself,in this Au for the heroes day battle,wielder of the ladybug,which garbriel has in his possession. yes he’s halfway to this goal,which raises the stakes Design- A,similar but different to canon,a more villainouse edge thanks to the black sections,and seems to hide nathalie’s identity

Powers- A,it’s the ladybug miraculous,one can only shudder to think hw it works when not wielded by a non heroic wielder.

Theme- Unlike in canon,this is not a heroic ladybug. I’ts Nathalie doing what she thinks is right,which is helping her boss achieve his goals. not helping that she seems to love him and all

Effectiveness - hard to say as we will only see her once in the finale arc,but the ladybug miraculous on the side of devils? weep for paris

Personal enjoyment-n/a

Sabine Dupain-Cheng,Mari’s wonderful mama,aka Scilla Design- A,an elegant look and design that fits and suits the motfi of her daughter,fitting given what her powers in this form do.

Powers- A. simple but effective,she can boost and enhance others’ powers,in this case able to increase Mari’s Miraculous’ abilities as catalyst did with scarlet moth,enabling her to create multiple champions. from a lady to a queen fairy,now able to lead and command her warriors on the field of battle.

Theme- A,really plays to the sparkly classy fairy tale motif of her daughter

Reason for Akumatization-Aor championisation in this case,as bee establishes Sabine’s always known her daughter has been a hero,and given the situation in heroes’ day,how could she not want to help

Effectiveness as an akuma- A,the results speak for themselves

Personal enjoyment of the akuma-A,compared to Nathalie and Hawkmth,it’s a nice little take in reminding us how like in canon,Mari has a wonderfu bond with her parents.

Luka,Kagami,Rose and Juleka,aka Distorter,Riposte,Princess fragrance and Monster Witch

Design- A+,very more heroic takes or twists on Luka,Kagami and Rose’s canon designs,while Juleka’s is very suiting and fitting for her given her goth vibe and motif,with the eyees of coruse referencing Reflekta. makes sense esp as reflekta was more about standing out and getting attention.Rose’s and Luka’s looks are tweaked just enough to not seem like palette swaps whie Kagami’ is less silver samurai,more superheroic samurai knight

Powers- A,Riposte’s hardly needed changing or tweaking compared to her design.Distorter meanwhile is more about using sound as a weapon which can have some unique applications. Juleka’s abilities obviously needed an overhaul,as there would’ve been no way of making a heroic take on reflekta’s powers. here of course it’s more about a means of combatting a sentimonster that creates its own army,while Rose’s is more about helping out and aiding others,akin to healer type chars in rpgs and games like overwatch and team fortress 2

Theme- A,you got a heroic samurai magical girl,a disney princess with a perfume gun,a musician who can truly make music a weapon,and his perky goth sister witch,what’s not to love

Reason for Championization-can’t rate per se,but given this Au and the nature of th buttrfly,Marinette wouldn’t pick just anyone to be her champions

Effectiveness as a champion- A,chat is lucky to have this backup no doubt

Personal enjoyment of the champions-A,be it simle tweaks and overhaul of the designs,to whole new design and powersets,creative aspects like this are what I love about this AU

Nino,Alix,Sabrina,Ondine,Ivan,Mylene,aka Bubble Boy,Timestealer,vanisher,syren,stone warrior and braverator

Design- A,Nino’s is a very welcome change of pace compared to the sentient popsicle blowup clown doll from canon and play to his own personal music hobby,Alix’s is more heroic take on her canon form that still playsup the futuristic rollerblader,Sabrina and Ondine’s hardly needed much changing,though Ondine does have some tweaks here and there,like an additonal fish feature or accessories. Ivan’s livesup to the name,making for an opposing contrast as Stoneheart,while Mylene obviously needed something different,as Horrificator is likely more sentimonster material design wise.

Powers- A+,bubbler’s design was whack,but the powers as seen were definitely something,vanisher and syren’s hardly needed much adjusting either. Stone warrior of course,basically takes his stoneheart’s powers and applies them more to a heroic means.mylene’s of course is very suiting for her,an inverse to how horrificator gained more pwer and size from others’ fear of her,she takes others’ fear and inverts it into bravery.which as bee mentions,is very handy for heroes’ day. Alix’s powers of coruse,are more about taking someone’s speed to add to her own,rather than taking someones life to able to go back in time.

Theme- A,vanisher needn’t be said,but the rest are either simple but effective tweaks and adjustments on familiar designs,or something more original and memorable in its own right

Reason for Championzation-see above for previous champion pic set.

Effectiveness as champions- same as above

Personal enjoyment of the champions-same as above

Doll Angel,the Lady fairy Au’s equiv to the Collector,combining aspect of the Puppeteer akuma.

Design- A,it plays to the same soft color palette and elegant classy fairy tale design of Mari’s outfit as Lady Fairy,minus the butterfly motif. Which makes sense of course as the goal of this form is throw off any traces or connection to her secret identity. The wand of course adds to the theme,and like with her lady fairy outfit,the masks adds a nice hint of mystery and highlights as a reminder of her blindness in this au. Given this is her equivalent to collector,it does the job.

Powers- A. As bee states,it’s similar but different to puppeteer,as well as her miraculous powers. It has the personal touch of utilizing a set of items that are very personal to Mari,in many ways representing how much she cherishes and values the friends in her life,many of whom have been made her champions,so unlike puppeteer it doesn’t force them into their forms and be controlled by her. But rather uses the dolls themselves,who serve as her sort of,rpg companion team. The detail of being able to see brought her dolls’ eyes serves a nice callback to how as lady fairy she sees through her champions eyes

Theme- A,as mentioned in design,it plays to the fairy tale motif,but like collector it’s different enough 8n terms of ability and design in throwing off the fact she is the butterfly miraculous wielder.

Reason-A,obviously as well as helping out her favourite cat,the reason for making herself a champion is key to throwing off that feathered bastard off of her scent. After what Gabriel pulled in canon as the collector,what’s good for the goose and all…

Effectiveness - A. Like with the collector,it clearly serves its goal and purpose.

Personal enjoyment of the champion-A+ the sweetest design for the sweetest girl in all of Paris.

#miraculous #lady fairy au #lady fairy #butterfly marinette #butterfly!marinette #kwami swap #nooroo #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug #beebombam

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doc-pickles · 4 years ago

Text

i saw mommy kissin’ santa claus

Hello! And welcome to “Festive Fridays with Two Dumb Bitches So Dumb They Can’t Stick to the Schedule They Make for Themselves” featuring me and @odd-birds-and-booksellers We wanted to find a day of the week for December to post our Christmas fics on and decided on Thursdays (this was originally titled ‘Two Dumb Bitches Thursday’ but we are both terrible procrastinators so now we have that fancy new title up there)

Will you get posts on Thursdays? Fridays? Who knows! But we’ve both committed to posting once a week every week of December with a fun festive fic! (Please don’t come to our inboxes and hound us about them, we yell at each other enough as it is and Lay is mean.....)

Anyways this is my first fluffy fic entry of the month and it’s definitely not inspired by real life events. Hope you enjoy! :)

(also this is not my best work because i’m sleep deprived and also my pregnancy brain is not letting me write how i normally do soooo cut me some slack please and thanks)

“Karev!”

Both Jo and Alex turned at the sound of Bailey’s voice behind them, the woman looking expectantly at Alex. Now that he wasn’t a young resident, Bailey rarely evoked a feeling of fear in him but today her stern voice had him racking his brain for anything he’d done wrong recently.

“What can I do for you, Chief?”

“Doctor Peterson retired earlier this year,” Bailey waited for either Jo or Alex to make a connection from her words, but both stared blankly at her instead. “Doctor Peterson used to dress up as Santa every year for the Peds Ward Christmas party. Since he’s no longer available, I need a replacement.”

Jo’s eyes lit up in delight as she turned to Alex who wore an unamused expression, “Absolutely not, I am not putting on that ridiculous costume.”

“Oh c’mon! It’s for sick kids Alex,” Jo settled a hand onto her husband's arm as she batted her eyelashes at him. “It’ll be fun! You should do it!”

Alex looked between his wife and his boss, Jo smiling excitedly at him while Bailey fixed him with a glare. A groan left him as he realized he didn’t have a say in the matter, “Fine I'll do it. But I’m not happy about it.”

Jo let out an excited squeal as Bailey thanked him, walking away with a satisfied smirk. Turning to his giddy wife, Alex wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “You better make this worth my damn while.”

“What, do you want me to come and sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what I want for Christmas,” Jo rolled her eyes, but Alex kept his gaze fixed on her. “You’re serious? You really are a pervy old man sometimes I swear.” Alex swatted at Jo’s ass playfully as she walked away from him. If she hadn’t happened to be standing next to him when Bailey asked he wouldn’t have caved so easily. His eyes narrowed at the thought, knowing that at least one of the women had planned that out.

“Stupid freakin’ Santa costume…”

There was a reason that he’d avoided the Christmas party for the Peds ward all these years and he finally realized why. Alex was surrounded by dozens of sugar high children who hadn’t seen outside of the hospital walls in weeks. He loved his job and working with kids, but he rarely had to deal with them when they were running around and screaming at the top of their lungs.

“Well you look like you’re having a great time,” Meredith sidled up to Alex, chuckling as she pulled on his fake beard. “The white doesn’t look so bad on you, maybe by next Christmas you won’t even need the fake beard.” “Oh shut up, I’m only here because Jo made me come. And she hasn’t even bothered to show up and make things around here more enjoyable,” Alex grumbled as he swatted away Meredith’s hand. He’d been sitting with kids on his lap for almost an hour and a half now, asking them what they wanted for Christmas and listening to their lists. “I’ve got fifteen minutes left before I can go home and drink beer and I can’t wait.”

“I’ve gotta go find my kids in this madness, but it looks like you have another visitor,” Meredith gestured to the little girl patiently waiting to meet Santa, bright blue eyes staring up at Alex in awe. “Have fun Santa!”

As soon as she was gone, the little girl bounded up to Alex and settled herself onto his lap, a gap toothed grin appearing on her face. Alex recognized her as one of his own patients, five year old Lauren who had a gastrointestinal problem that kept her in the hospital for weeks at a time, “Hi Santa!”

“Hi Lauren,” Alex almost chuckled at Lauren’s wide eyed expression when she realized that ‘Santa’ knew her name. “What do you want for Christmas?”

“I want a Barbie dream house and a pink glitter ballerina Barbie too,” Lauren was full of giggles as she relayed her wish list to Alex. Her expression softened however and she leaned in close to him, whispering her next words. “And I want my tummy to feel all better so I can go home and have a real Christmas. Christmas in the hospital is no fun.” Alex’s heart broke at the little girls words, realizing just how much of a toll being here was taking on such a young girl, “You know what, I think your doctors will do their very best to get you home for Christmas so you can play with all your new Barbies. How does that sound?” Lauren’s face lit up at Alex’s words, her arms wrapping around his neck as she giggled in delight. A string of thank yous left her as she hopped off Alex’s lap and reunited with her mother, who sent an appreciative wave in his direction.

“Well aren’t you the best Santa in the world,” Alex turned at the sound of Jo’s voice, holding back an eye roll as she lifted her camera to snap a photo of him. “See, I told you it wouldn’t be that bad! Your mom is going to love that photo, I hope she puts it on the mantle.” “Did you come here for any reason besides to mock me,” Alex grumbled. “I’m almost done with this and then I’m never doing it again no matter how much you beg.” Alex couldn’t help but smirk at Jo’s amused expression. She looked so happy that he was doing this, like it had made her whole year. If nothing else, Jo’s excitement made the stupid gig worth it.

“Well I came here to tell Santa what I want for Christmas but if he’s too grumpy…,” Alex reached for Jo’s hand, pulling her into his lap as she laughed at his antics.

“Now what do you want for Christmas,” Alex pressed his face into Jo’s neck, more laughter coming from her at the feel of the fake beard against her skin. “I’m sure Santa would be more than happy to oblige.”

“You realize you’re trying to talk dirty to me at a children’s party right,” Alex pinched Jo’s leg at her remark, a squeal leaving her as she jumped. “Okay okay, what I want for Christmas is… a baby.”

“A baby?”

“Yes a baby,” Jo grinned widely, leaning in close to Alex with a twinkle in her eyes. “I want you to knock me up. Preferably not wearing the Santa costume.”

Alex stared dumbly up at his wife for a moment, her grin never fading as she watched him process what she’d said. A baby… Jo wanted to have kids. Kids with him.

“You know there’s easier ways to say that you want to try for a baby,” Alex chuckled as he leaned up to kiss Jo, his fake beard getting in the way of his attempt. “C’mon let’s go home, I finished my duty for the day. Maybe if you’ve make it on the nice list I’ll put in a good word for you with Santa.” A string of giggles left Jo as she watched Alex try and sneak out of the room, instead getting ambushed by almost all of the kids that were running around. After a quick goodbye and a promise to work hard on their wishes, the pair finally made it out of the room, Alex turning to Jo with a grin, “You want one of those? You sure?”

“More than anything. Now kiss me,” Jo pointed upwards to the doorway where a sprig of mistletoe hung. “It’s tradition.”

“I can’t believe you volunteered to do this this year,” Meredith stared dumbfoundedly at Alex, who sat in his chair with a smirk peeking through his fake beard. “Seriously, are you feeling okay? You couldn’t stop complaining last year.” “Would you pipe down, it’s different this year,” Alex shrugged, waving at one of the kids that ran by. “I wanted to spread some Christmas cheer to sick kids, is that so wrong?” “Don’t listen to him, he didn’t want some ‘germy mall Santa’ to hold Peyton for photos,” Meredith turned at the sound of Jo’s voice, a grin lighting up her face as she took in the sight of the small baby cradled in the baby sling across Jo’s chest. “Although the peds ward of a hospital can’t be much better.”

“Stop whining and come over here,” Alex held his arms out, expecting Jo to hand the baby to him but instead having her sit across his lap. “Really? You’re gonna sit on my lap again?”

Jo shrugged, pressing a kiss against his cheek as Alex reached up to uncover the baby’s face, “I figured my Christmas wish came true last year, might as well go again.” “Listen I love you but this one barely sleeps through the night as it is,” Alex gestured to Meredith, who was smiling at the happy family with her phone in hand. “Now would you smile so we can have a semi decent first Christmas photo for our daughter.” Jo and Alex both wore bright smiles as they looked at Meredith, the two month old between them not even batting an eyelash as she slept soundly on her mom’s chest. The warm feeling in Jo’s chest almost made her tear up, thinking to just the year before when her husband had begrudgingly put on a Santa costume to please her. This year he had eagerly gone through the motions, excited to create memories with their daughter without a care about all of the patients that came with the deal.

“What’s on your mind? You have that blissed out look on your face,” Alex’s fingers on her cheek snapped Jo out of her daze, her lips coming down to press against his briefly.

“Nothing, just thinking about how lucky I am and how much I love you.” “I love you too, but you can’t just kiss me like that,” Jo’s brows furrowed as she took in Alex’s serious expression. “The kids are watching! What are they gonna think when they see you kissing Santa like that? I’ll get a bunch of angry letters.” “You’re the worst, Karev.”

#alex karev #jo karev #jo wilson #jolex fic #jolex fanfic #jo x alex #jolex #greys anatomy #greys anatomy fanfic #christmas #TDBT #nina writes

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sagemoderocklee · 4 years ago

Note

Writer ask meme - everything divisible by 3

Sorry this took so long to reply to! I was writing out my responses today, but while watching Rosewell New Mexico with my roommate and that show is SO good. anyways this is really, really long so I will put part of it under a read more however if you are reading TAoL and want a sneak peak at an upcoming chapter, my answer to 36 is the entire first scene for that chapter

3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing? Other than the obvious writer's block, I think that my least favorite part is feeling insecure/wanting validation via comments and such. Writing is something I really enjoy doing and take great pride in trying to grow as a writer, but it's impossible to completely shake off that feeling of insecurity and sadness over something that doesn't get comments. There's this common thing in fandom where like you can pour a lot of heart and energy into something, be really skilled, only for it to get overlooked. There's obviously a lot of reasons for that, but some of those reasons are kind of annoying—like god forbid something not have sex in it, ya know?

6. Favorite character you’ve written?

So, that's hard.... If we're talking the canon Naruto characters, it can really vary from story to story. I obviously enjoy writing Gaara and Lee, but I was surprised to find that I really enjoy writing Shikamaru, Kankurou, Temari, Neji, and Tenten as well. I think all of them are really interested, have a lot of potential, and are fun in very different ways. Kankurou is definitely just flat out fun to write, and I think Tenten is very similar in the way she's fun to write. I think this like handful of characters are all faves for very different reasons so it's hard to say who my absolute fave is, but I really enjoy writing all of them. Definitely my fave thing is being able to write all of them interacting together, however.

9. Favorite/least favorite tropes?

Least: Soulmates. I hate that shit with a passion—it's boring, it's artificial, it's easy. There was a post I just saw recently that said “soulmates are stupid. I love you on purpose” and that just sums up so much of my issue with soulmates. If something is predetermined by some fucking cosmic power, do you really ever love that person? Do you really ever know that person? Soulmate AUs will always be something that bore me and also insight anger. It's just not for me, and I wish that fandom spaces would just get over it, in all honesty. Fave: uh. I don’t really know about like trope-wise. I just really like anything with good world building and politics.

12. Which story of yours do you like best? Why? Oh gosh.... um. That's really hard to answer because every story I write has a special place in my heart for different reasons. Alliance is my baby; TAoL is a huge emotional investment and has allowed me to grow even more as a writer; Absolution is something I've always wanted to explore; Flyweight Love is super fun and cute; IEYH is a new experiment in writing for me; GoD was also an experiment... and on and on. It's hard to pick like a favorite story because like they're all my faves in different ways. There are certainly things I like more or prefer, like I'm not that into modern Aus as much so it's easier for me to say that like Find Me isn't a one of my best—it isn't, there's a lot of things I want to fix on it, and while it is a decent fic, it's not like groundbreaking imo. But like for all of the things that need fixing with Alliance, that fic is my baby and really grounded me as a writer in a way no other writing project had before it. So like I could never not love it. Anyways, I'm babbling at this point, but basically I love all my fics so I can't choose.

15. How do you deal with self-doubt when writing? Rereading my writing tends to help and hoarding some of my favorite comments I've been left by readers. I know I'm a good writer, self-doubt and insecurities aside, so re-reading stuff is really a good confidence booster—but when that's not enough, it is really helpful to look back at old comments.

18. Tell us about that one book you’ll never let anyone read

Of mine??? Well, obviously by 'book' we're going with fanfiction because none of my original content is at a point where I'd really even consider it for this question. Um. Honestly, I don't think there's much if anything. Maybe some HP fics but not because I'm not like... proud of the writing or premise. Like I'd say my ideas are really good, it's just a matter of like my own time management and shit.

21. What aspect of your writing are you most proud of?

My world building. I'm also generally proud of the premises I come up with, and the themes I explore with my writing. Like I think I'm a good writer in terms of the like technical writing aspect—pros and such—and also characters, but I think I excel at world building and overall plot.

24. Do you remember the moment you decided to become a writer/author? The first time I ever wrote anything I was seven years old. I was at a party for my mom's boss? I think it was a birthday party? Anyway, I was the only kid there—which was fine because I was used to being the only kid in gatherings—but I was sitting alone by like a window and I just like started writing a poem about the night. That was like the first time that writing really became a part of me. When I was thirteen, when my mom got sick, I started writing poetry more. And when I was fourteen, I started writing fanficiton and that's kinda just... never stopped. I've been writing stories ever since.

27. Every writer’s least favorite question - where does your inspiration come from? Do you do certain things to make yourself more inspired? Is it easy for you to come up with story ideas?

My inspiration comes from everywhere, not to like be cliched. But inspiration really is in everything and everyone. I tend to find inspiration really easily in music, but it's also in just like the day-to-day; it's in other writers; it's in washing dishes; it's in a day trip to the ocean; it's in a quote or a touch or a word. Like genuinely, it's in big things and little things and things that shouldn't even be things. I don't feel like I really struggle with inspiration so much as motivation, really. And that is... a much harder thing to find sometimes (especially when you're mentally ill)

30. Do you like to read books similar to your project while you’re drafting or do you stick to non-fiction/un-similar works?

Um. I like to read fantasy mostly, but I don't look for something similar or different from my projects intentionally. I just.... look for things that I like? But I don't really know how to explain that lol

33. What’s your revision/rewriting process like? Since I'm writing mostly fanfiction and the culture of having a beta reader has dwindled significantly, making it hard to find one, I do a lot of self-editing. I'm usually re-reading a lot as I'm writing. So until a chapter is done, I'm always going back and reading/editing before moving on to the next scene. And then once I'm done writing a chapter I'll usually edit it about two or three times in full in the document, then I put it in draft on Ao3 for another edit before posting.

36. Post a snippet All right a snippet..... Let's go with something from: The Art of Love, Chapter 13 (not the next chapter, but the one after). Since I left everyone hanging for so long with that last scene of Gaara and Lee, this is the entire first scene to ch13: It was all his fault. If he hadn't let himself get so carried away in the dream of Gyokukakushin, in the dream of Gaara, in the dream of safety they didn't have this wouldn't be happening. Their belongings had been stuffed haphazardly into their various bags. Despite how many times he'd checked and double checked, Lee felt sure that he'd overlooked something—some wayward item that had rolled beneath the bed or fallen behind the desk that would give them away. Gaara had watched him silently, his thoughts kept to himself as Lee dashed about their room like a mad man.

“I think that is everything,” Lee managed over the mantra of 'My fault, my fault' cycling through his mind. His voice trembled as he spoke. Every inch of him trembled. Every breath he took rattled in his chest. Every beat of his heart was a stutter against his rib cage. Every ounce of blood pumping through his veins burned with the need to run.

“This is useless,” Gaara said, the first words he'd spoken since the beach.

Lee snapped his head up, meeting Gaara's enigmatic gaze. “But—”

“They don't set sail until the end of the month,” he reminded Lee. “What use is being packed? Besides, it will look suspicious if we leave now.”

Tears burned at the corners of Lee's eyes. “But if they are coming—”

“They're coming,” Gaara murmured. “But even if they arrive before we've departed, we have our disguises. You have to trust that we'll be fine.”

Lee's head spun. How could Gaara be so calm? How could he sit there, quiet and unshakable, when Lee felt as though the world were falling apart around them? How could he be so sure that eleven days from now, they'd set sail, free and undiscovered? How was he not furious with Lee for his complacency?

Gaara was at Lee's side before Lee could shake the spinning in his head, a gentle hand at Lee's elbow and a surety in his eyes.

“I know you won't let anything happen to me,” he told Lee, as soft and insistent as the thumb he'd once pressed against the corner of Lee's mouth.

“No. Never.” Lee's stomach twisted, guilt rising like the tide. He'd let his feelings jeopardize everything.

“Then what do you have to fear?”

A trembling laugh escaped Lee, soft and unsteady. He had everything to fear, yet Gaara's gaze implored him to forget those fears. He managed to speak, his tongue heavy with the lie, “I do not know.”

“Then do not know fear. It will make this harder for us, especially if the Daimyo's soldiers arrive before we've left.”

“If they do—”

“If they do, we will be as unknown to them as any other traveler. And if not, I trust your speed to carry us to safety.”

“We would miss our ship.”

“If it comes to that, so be it. We can find other ways of traveling to Tea Country.”

Lee allowed himself to believe all would be well because he couldn't believe anything else when looking into the depths of Gaara's eyes, but there was no escaping his gnawing guilt or the knowledge that his heart had led them to ruin.

39. Do you spend a lot of time analyzing and studying the work of authors you admire? I wouldn't say a lot of time per say, certainly not as much as I should, but I definitely do like to analyze other works and learn new skills, etc.

42. How many drafts do you usually write before you feel satisfied? I don't really write “drafts” per say. Since I'm just writing fanfiction, I'm usually just writing and then heavily editing. Sometimes editing does mean taking out and entirely rewriting entire scenes. And sometimes in writing fics, I do jump ahead—though very rarely—and write a rough draft of a future scene so I don't lose the idea/beats/etc, and then that will be re-written fully when I do get to it. But on average, I'm just doing a lot of editing.

45. First or third person? Third, definitely. I'll never be able to write first person cause it just doesn't really suit me and, overall, I think that it's a very hard point of view to write from. For me, it takes a special

48. Do you prefer to write skimpy drafts and flesh them out later, or write too much and cut it back? So before I write something, depending on what it is I will write an outline that can vary from a few sentences to like pages.

51. Are you a secretive writer or do you talk with your friends about your books? A bit of both really. I love talking about the things I'm working on, but I also love to keep things a surprise so I can see what people's genuine reactions are to like plot twists or whatever. Of course, my problem is that I have to like—talk about my projects to stay motivated. It's a hard balance. I usually end up talking with my roommate since they also write fanfic for Naruto but not GaaLee. We can bounce ideas off each other, when we're stuck, etc.

54. Favorite first line/opening you’ve written? Ugh this is another hard one... I think im gonna go with the opening from IEYH right now as one of my fave becuase I think I did a decent job of setting the tone of my very first horror project: Too often, ghost stories begin with dark nights or horrible, gruesome death. Real ghosts don't follow the patterns of a novel; there are no beginnings, middles, and ends; no rising action and falling action; no denouement. Ghosts do not achieve resolution; ghost do not experience the climax of their own tale. There are no happy—or even sad—endings. There are no endings at all.

Ghost stories go on and on and on, rambling endlessly towards nothing and no where, only stopping for the finite amount of words one can speak or write in one's lifetime.

That is the true horror of death: ceaseless, unending nothingness.

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all-might-blog · 4 years ago

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Always by your side

Summary:

Sir Nighteye had died smiling. His last words hadn't been the typical self-pity words, but a hope he had had for the world. And then he was gone. Dead. But what they didn't know was that he was always, always, by their sides.

Notes:

This was actually inspired by a lovely fanart of Izuku, Eri and Mirio at the culture festival. Unbeknownst to them, Sir Nighteye is by their side, but he looks like a spirit or ghost. It was both sad and reasuring. Like, he would be by their sides, even if parted by death. Writing this actually brought tears to my eyes, so... just lend each them your support. Enjoy the read and please let me know what you thought! (incudes spoilers from the series, season 4, I think)

this is the fanart it got inspired by:

Originally posted on Ao3

Well, that was it. It had been a hell of a ride, but he had cherished every moment of it. However, he had that tugging feeling in his chest, telling him that he wasn't done here yet. It had appeared when he saw tears fill the eyes of the three people who had heard his very last words. Toshinori, for whom he had worked for, the hero he had admired all these years. Izuku, whom he had only met that year, but who had shown so much promise, power, strength. Mirio... who had lost his quirk saving young Eri, who had given it his all, who had believed in the art of smiling, who had just kept shining.

It pained Sir to see his usually smiling face teary, red, deep lines of sadness etched on it as he watched the life drain away from it. He wished he could have given Mirio one last hug, told him not to worry for him... but, alas, life wasn't fair and he hadn't been able to. He wished he could. He watched them cry, powerless to help them out of their missery, just another soul trapped in a body. He knew that pain was good, since it showed that one could move on, but still... he preferred it when they smiled.

He watched. He just watched as Toshinori and Izuku left the room to attend to their own injuries, but Mirio was the only one by his bedside, tears never ceasing as they fell down his cheeks and onto his hand resting on his lap.

"Mirio..." he whispered. The boy's head snapped up, and pain stung at him at how teary and sad he was.

"S- sir?" he hiccuped. Nighteye sat up carefully, leaving his body behind. He knew that he was invisible to the boy, but he knew that he could hear him.

"It's fine to cry." Nighteye said, laying a hand on his student's shoulder. Mirio stiffened at the touch, then stretched out a hand. It sank right through Nighteye's chest.

"Sir?" he said again, a little louder. "Wha... are you there…?"

"Of course I am. I will always be." he said gently. He let go of his shoulder, wiping away one of his tears. "Even if you can't see me, I will be by your side no matter what. There will always be a part of me inside you."

Tears welled up at his eyes, and Mirio wiped them away, sniffling loudly. "I miss you so much already," he said quietly, voice trembling with sorrow and pain.

"I know you do. But I would be leaving sooner or later. Death... death, it is an unavoidable thing that comes to us in the end. Better accept it with a smile than with fear." Nighteye said gently. "It's fine to feel afraid, but too much fear will make it harder to live."

"So I have learned." Mirio said, stiffling a sob. He wondered if he was mad, hearing voices. But... it felt far too real. It had to be true. Nighteye smiled at him, this dear boy he had learned to care deeply for.

"So... when the time comes, face it with a smile. Trust me. It makes everything a lot easier." he leaned forward, wraping his arms aroung Mirio in a hug. For a moment, the boy sat there, surpeised. Then he returned the hug, his hands suddenly landing on solid material. It wasn't solid solid, but... solid enough so that he knew that his mentor was there. He buried his face in what he hoped was his neck, feeling like an eight year old again, sobbing until there were no more tears to cry. When Nighteye parted the hug, Mirio could have sworn that he had seen a soft, fuzzy outline there before it faded out of sight.

"Sir?" he said softly. Silence. He mustered a small smile. "Thank you for sticking with me."

Nighteye wished he could hear his reply, but he was already far beyond hearing now. He would still be able to stay with him, but the boy wouldn't be able to hear him. He hoped that Mirio had faith in him about keeping his word. He moved aside as the boy slowly got to his feet, giving Nighteye's body a sad look before covering his face with the bed sheets and standing there for a minute in silence. He then released a shaky sigh, walking out the door. A nurse was there to meet him.

"Are you done?" she asked gently. He nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak. The nurse led the way back to his ward, Nighteye walking after him, keeping close behind. Of course, he slowed down when he found his old friend sitting outside in the hallway on a chair, staring at his feet, his two choppy, blond tufts of hair falling over his face. He looked back to Mirio to see which ward he was led to before walking closer to the previous number one hero and crouching on one knee in front of him.

"Why the long face?" he asked gently, placing a hand on Toshinori's knee. His head snapped up, eyes wide as he tried to see his friend.

"Mirai?" he whispered hoarsely, "Is- is that…?"

"So it is," Nighteye said, smiling a little. "Don't cry. I'll always be by your side, even if I am dead."

Toshinori stiffled a sob, covering his face with both hands, his entire, thin body trembling.

"I-I didn't want it to end like..." he trailed off with a big sniff, hiccuping. Nighteye gently pried his hands away from his face so that he could see him. He gave him the biggest smile he could muster.

"I will be by your side. Promise." he said. Toshinri opened and closed his mouth, then stretched out his hands to hug him. Nighteye accepted the hug, his own tears threatning to fall. Really, that he had to leave such amazing people behind...

"Take care." Toshinori whispered, knowing that this was farewell.

"No, you should. Keep smiling, my friend." and with that, he faded away once more. Toshinori's hands fell to his sides, and he sat there, wondering if it had been his imagination. Yet... he had the gut feeling that it had actually happened.

Nighteye walked to where Mirio's ward was, slipping inside and sitting on a small desk chair as he watched the boy sleep. He fell asleep as well, wking upbto find Izuku biding goodbye to Mirio. He stood, walking back outside to find the young boy talking to Toshinori. Then they parted, Izuku heading for his own ward. Nighteye followed, feeling that he also needed to say goodbye to him.

"Midoriya?" he asked, striding to his side. Izuku froze mid-stride, eyes going wide.

"It can't be... Nighteye…?"

"I just wanted to say that I was wrong about you. I think that with time, you will become the next symbol of peace." he said, patting his shoulder. He came into focus, and the boy's eyes widened even more.

"Sir..."

"I really am sorry for those words I told you when we first met. I hope you can forgive me."

"I- Sir, I already did..." Nighteye smiled.

"Keep smiling, boy. This world needs more smiles." And with that, he faded away once more. No one saw him again, but, unknowingly to them…

…he would always be by their sides, watching them.

#My Hero Academia #sir nighteye #All Might #Midoriya Izuku #toogata mirio #Angst #Like lots of angst #Everyone needs hugs #Sir Nighteye is like a ghost (?)#Yeah I wrote this instead of sleeping #Sir Nighteye comforts those hurting #Dad Nighteye #Spoilers for season 4 #enjoy the read!

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queerchoicesblog · 5 years ago

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Ghost of You (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele)

So this is my very first SC Titanic fanfic: I am excited to post it and well I suppose I should warn you that probably Zetta x Adele fictions will be rather long as this love story features themes that are very dear and meaningful to me, such as 1. well, obviously the Titanic story, 2. references to beginning of the century cinema (love very old and b&w movies), 3. sapphism and 4. femminism/suffragette movement. It’s basically everything I could have ever asked for. The Gentleman Jack fans out there might find a reference here...

So here I tried to imagine what brought Zetta to write that little note to Adele after basically disappearing. Loved that scene and I had to try and portray her turmoil, her missing Adele but also, as any historical lesbian (maybe not only historical), fearing the strings of society and their effect on their love and her beloved suffragette. Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I quoted some pieces of dialogue from the original book

Word Count: 2555

Zetta x Adele Tag: @marmolady @animus-and-anima @hayley-carter19 @escako @everlastingchoices @andrxrneda @aestheticsayeed @eleanorwaverrley @indescribablechoices @ahrielstuff @lvcley @nazario-sayeed

________________________

Two rapid knocks on the door then:

“Are you there, doll? Can I come in?”

Richard’s voice abruptly brought Zetta’s back to reality, involuntarily making her jump in her seat. She blinked twice as if wakingg from a dream and took a quick look around. She couldn’t recall how long she had been sitting at her vanity lost in her thoughts with a brush in her hand. She just couldn’t focus that day as she was haunted by memories of the past. But Richard didn’t have to know, mustn’t have to know. She put down the brush and quickly fixed her hair before adjusting her robe to limit the skin exposure to the minimum: after all, they weren’t married yet…and her heart didn’t belong to Mr. King. Only after that, she answered loud enough to be heard on the other side of the ebony door:

“Sure, darling”

She resumed her interrupted makeup session, pretending to be fully taken by that routine that didn’t bring her the usual joy anymore. She looked at herself in the mirror and put on a practiced smile: it would have been enough to fool her fiancé.

Richard entered her boudoir and theatrically opened his arms as a seasoned professional: he mentioned that he started as an actor before becoming a stellar director.

“My love, every time I see you I’m completely blinded by your beauty. You’re the brightest star in the sky, even brighter than Venus itself” he said moving closer and kneeling beside her chair.

“…And you’re gonna be the most radiant woman at the party tonight. The belle of the ball, la plus belle” he added, courtly taking her free hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles.

He looked up at her with a dashing smile.

“Trés charmant, Richard…but are you done with poetry?” she smirked, retrieving her hand and resuming her previous core.

“Ah, la belle dame sans merci!” Richard exclaimed before falling back to the floor holding a hand on his chest.

“Silly” Zetta laughed and she was soon joined by Richard who stood again and leaned on her table.

“I can’t help it around you, doll, apologies” he shrugged, flashing her another smile.

Zetta had to summon all her acting expertise not to cringe at “doll”. She hated it when every fiber of her being when Richard -or any other men- called her “doll”. Even her first director called her so, even her husband…doll, as if that was all she was to them: a beautiful toy, maybe a collectible but not truly a woman. Not truly Zetta.

Instead, she mirrored his smile and threw him a quick look before methodically applying some rouge on her cheek.

“So, what are you dying to say that can’t wait?”

“Seeing you isn’t a reasonable excuse?”

Richard was a charming man, without doubt. He wasn’t a bad man or so it seemed to her but she had been deceived by men who swore to only want the best for her that it was hardly possible for Zetta to fully trust any of them. And a man could have never won her heart.

As she flashed him just one of her enigmatic smile, he spoke again:

“Fine, you got me: I just wanted to see you and to remind you that our producers are expecting us at Rao’s for dinner in an hour. We should leave soon” he gave an apologetic smile and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Will we be there in time?”

“We will, I promise you” Zetta confirmed then made a show of shooing him away. “Now shoo, call Sabine and let me get dressed or else we will be late”

Richard raised his arms in surrender, laughing. Then he pressed a kiss on the crown of her head.

“I’ll get off of your hair, doll”

Zetta resumed her makeup as Richard moved towards the door. He was halfway out when

“Oh I almost forgot! I spoke to Alan yesterday and he loved the movie: the story of the two sisters reunited in the midst of chaos on the sinking ship is just perfect, so heart-warming-“

“Yes, it truly is heart-warming” Zetta commented, losing focus again.

“The story is real, right? You met at least one of them on board, didn’t you?”

Zetta’s voice lowered as memories started surfacing back.

“Yes, we were…rather close”

“If they survived, we should track them down and invite them at the movie: it would be great if they could talk to the press. Journalists love stories like this: I can see the headlines alrea-“

“We’ll see, Richard. Now please go call Sabine”

She tried to keep her voice from betraying her feelings, but she could feel a rush of anger surging. She would have never handed the Carrem sisters and such a private and tragic moment of their lives to those shameless sharks who go under the name of journalists. The subtle hint of heartbreak and they prey the unfortunate victims like vultures over a corpse: they wouldn’t stop until they had dissected those aching hearts, leaving them to bleed out. No, she would have done everything in her power to prevent this.

The story she wrote down when asked to bring the grim fate of the Titanic on the big screen was fiction: inspired by true facts but fiction. Zetta was smart enough to know that life and fiction are two separate things and that an edulcorated tale of those most tragic hours was all the world could take: the people of New York, who weren’t there that night, would have been overwhelmed by the real story.

Still, when she sat at her desk and started writing a draft of the script her mind immediately turned to…Adele.

She didn’t even notice Richard leaving the room as the silhouette of Miss Carrem clouded her thoughts. Finally alone, her face fell and she shut her eyes as if to prevent the memory from fading away.

Adele, most gracious, fearless Adele…

Her lips curled into a sad smile as she reminisced their first meeting. She was sitting in her suite smoking and listening to James making some pointless speech when the door opened and Teo stepped in followed by Adele. She had the beauty of a Greek goddess and the look of someone who was going through a lot. She clearly felt out of place among finely dressed first-class passengers in the lavish room but she kept her head high. Zetta remembered feeling the urge to know what troubled her but she put on her mask, the sardonic film star ever out of reach. And then…was it a brave move or just an insane one? Adele told her of her arrest, of prison. Everyone else would have hidden from her, a new employer and Zetta Serda…not Adele. She handed her everything she needed to destroy her life as if it was no big deal. Zetta was taken aback and searched her green eyes for any sign of mockery but find none: the stranger girl truly trusted her with her life. That’s when she realized how unique Miss Carrem was.

Adele found a way to her heart effortlessly as if she had the map from the very start. When she placed her hand over hers in the projection room, she startled Zetta: whenever she had made the fatal mistake to show her vulnerable side to anyone, they would have used it against her to make her feel weak or small…clearly in need of someone who would tell her what to do, to guide her. They would have refilled her glass with wine again and again instead of going for the simplest gesture: taking her hand into theirs and comfort her. Making her believe with that touch that everything would have been fine, and she was stronger than whatever life threw her.

For a moment, as Adele held her hand, she felt safe, pacified, something she had never experienced with any of her supposed lovers. She couldn’t even be mad at her secretary when she revealed her James’ plan and the true reason behind his bailing her out of jail. She was shocked, obviously but she also couldn’t believe that Adele, brave foolish Adele, had put her life into her hands again. “I’m perfectly aware of the risk I’m taking by revealing this to you but you deserve to know. I cannot keep this from you” she said, looking her right in the eye.

Those eyes…they took Zetta’s breath away whenever they ignited with the fire sparking inside her. She could have lost herself in their green depths when they gleamed with pride and mischief as she proposed a toast to the vote to women or whenever their eyes met. She got lost in them when their lips touched, and they grew dark with desire. How daring and foolish they had been in the Turkish baths…but she couldn’t bring herself to regret that moment of ecstasy when she felt free and truly loved, for once. She could still shiver remembering Adele’s touch, the way her lips traced down her body with reverence and adoration, the soft moans the tender girl in her arms suffocated hiding her face in the crook of her neck as she melted under her caresses. In those stolen embraces she knew happiness.

How happy she felt whenever Adele was around: just exchanging a brief look across the room would make her heart flutter.

Then other memories surged and Zetta felt tears welling her closed eyes. Her birthday night, that cursed birthday night…Adele and her sneaking away from the party to find a private spot on the deck. The wine, the cold breeze of the ocean, Adele’s silvery laughter at her tipsy enthusiasm, how she craved those sweet lips all night.

“If I’m honest, I don’t even want to reach shore, I don’t want to go back to the party…I just want to stay out here with you. Forever.”

Adele’s tender smile in agreement.

“Let’s just make a tent of this blanket – we can live off seal meat and rainwater”

Her tipsy proposal made the two of them laugh again.

“What about your acting career?” Adele inquired, a smile lingering on her face.

“We’ll make our own plays. Whaddya say?”

God, how those words sounded different now…how she would have given everything to have Adele there to cup her face and give her a slow, deep kiss. But Adele wasn’t by her side anymore…she lost sight of her when her agent and Richard dragged her and James away from the crowd at the New York pier.

She hadn’t written her ever since that day and she felt so impossibly guilty because of that: Adele must have thought she had forgotten about her after all her words of love on the ship. Maybe she felt used, maybe she hated her by now and cursed the memory of her. She would have reasons to hold a grudge to her…the truth was that happiness and love are hard to accept if you have never truly had them before and if they came from a woman loving another woman.

Zetta had tried to write her a thousand time but every time she had made an effort to put her feelings into words, her lines rang hollow. Yet the words that got stuck in her throat when Adele pulled her into a corner and confessed that no matter what happened that night she needed to tell that she loved her were clear in her mind.

The months spent parted from you are the saddest time of my life. I’m haunted by you, the ghost of you. You’re everywhere: even if I’m silent, not an hour passed where I haven’t thought of you. I tried not to, but whenever I closed my eyes, there you were. I love you and I can’t live without you, without your smile, your wit, your touch. I just can’t but how can I ask you to be with me in the dark? I can’t step back from this wedding and I don’t want you to be a secret mistress: that would squalid and offensive when you are the one I want to give all of me. To marry, if that was even a possibility for us so that I could spend every single day of my life with you, waking up with you by my side, taking care of you…making you happy. Your absence makes even breathing hard, not to mention smiling to strangers, “capitalist pigs” as you would say…I even try and talk like you do, you see? But I find myself wondering: will I make you happy if I have to hide our love from the world? Kiss you only behind closed doors? Let you see me marry a man? You’re a free spirit, my love, I don’t want to put you in a cage because our love, our pure love would be a scandal and a scandal would ruin everything I worked for since I was even younger than you. I don’t want you to spend your life as a ghost yet I find myself craving to see your face one more time as living without you is barely surviving but all the light has gone as I lost you.

Suddenly she felt someone placing their hands on her shoulders.

“Let me help you here, Madame”

She opened her eyes and saw Sabine, smiling sympathetically down at her. She tried and failed to mirror her smile as her mascara was now running down her cheeks.

Sabine helped her to her feet and took care of everything. Zetta let her washed up her face and helped her into her shiny evening dress: she felt like a child in the hands of a loving mother. When she was putting on her earrings, the final touch, Sabine handed her a small stack of envelopes.

“The invitations to the movie screening and party” she explained. “It’s October first, I would suggest to send them first thing tomorrow to ensure that everyone get the invitation within reasonable notice. It wasn’t easy to find all the addresses, but I did my best”

“I’m sure you did, Sabine. Thank you for taking care of it.” Zetta said as she checked the succession of familiar names of former passengers and famous colleagues. “I will sign them personally when we come back from the party”.

“Excellent” Sabine nodded.

Then as Zetta placed the stack on her desk, she presented her a single envelope.

“I hope you don’t mind if I requested a faster delivery for this one” she added before bowing her head curtly and leaving the room. “Have a nice evening, Madame”

Zetta read the name handwritten on the last envelope where a different stamp had been appointed.

‘Mademoiselle Adele Carrem’

A lump formed in her throat but she forced herself not to cry and just smile, mentally thanking Sabine: she had found her. Following nothing else but her instinct, Zetta picked out the invitation and signed it with her fountain pen. Then, as Richard called her name, she grabbed a slip of paper and wrote a brief note:

“Please come, my love. I must see you again. Yours, Zetta”.

She folded everything back into the envelope and finally left her room as a newfound hope kindled inside her.

#storyscape #titanic sc #zetta serda #adele carrem #zetta x adele

189 notes · View notes

bcbdrums · 5 years ago

Text

Forfeit

AU fanfic, post-Graduation Kim Possible. Inspired wholely by this stunning artwork: https://gothicthundra.tumblr.com/post/188037118744/color-prompt-set-b-13-drakken-pyrrhic

I apologize in advance... Oh, um...let's call this a high teen rating for violence and death? Sorry again...

---------

"For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?" Matthew 16:26a ESV

Drakken's heart pounded in his chest as he ran, following almost absentmindedly after the flowing and tattered graduation gown that Kim Possible wore as his eyes darted back and forth across the corridor. On one side were windows to outer space, revealing its velvet blackness with the tiniest of lights peeking through that he knew were stars, only he couldn't recognize their positions. The other side of the corridor was an indestructible alloy, except by the aliens' own technology he had witnessed months prior.

He was trapped. And he was terrified.

The sound of depressurization and rockets grabbed his attention and he peered past Kim to where two figures were racing toward them on jet-packs.

"KP!" a familiar voice cried.

"Ron!" Kim answered. Drakken's thoughts continued to the logical but impossible conclusion as he looked beyond the blond-haired boy to the other figure racing toward them.

His chest felt aflame and a broad grin broke through his terror as he knew it was her. And when she saw him her typical mean, focused look was replaced by a smile that mirrored his own. Tears filled his eyes as he reached for her.

"Shego!" he cried in joy as she landed gracefully in front of him. Scarcely a moment later he embraced her around the shoulders while her arms wrapped around his middle and gripped him tightly. Relief and peace coursed through him as he pulled her smaller form snugly into his. "You came! I thought I was going to die up here!"

She didn't respond. Confused, Drakken opened his eyes which he hadn't realized were closed.

He gasped and staggered back. His arms were empty, and his only company in the alien corridor were the stars.

"Shego!?" he cried, turning around in a hurry. But all traces of her—and Kim and Ron—were gone.

A great dizziness swept him and he turned in horror as the walls began closing in around him. His vine—which he had forgotten about—slithered out from his collar and began weaving latticed barriers against the impending doom, but they were no match for the strength of the alien technology.

"No! No! Someone help meeeeee! Shegoooooo!"

---------

There was a strange electricity and pressure in the air as Drakken sped the hovercraft back to Middleton. 'Now I know how Santa Claus feels…' he thought as he wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. Thankfully the invasion hadn’t been quite as worldwide as originally feared, mostly only major cities having been targeted.

His plants were spreading and taking out the alien robots, and with that end accomplished he hurried back to the root of his operations. Suddenly a familiar voice shrieking in terror drew his gaze skyward. He saw a blazing trail like that of a meteorite ascending seconds before it impacted the Lorwardian spacecraft, destroying it in a massive explosion. He stared wide-eyed as the flaming wreckage rained down and he halted his vehicle for a moment as he wondered how on earth the destruction could have been accomplished. It certainly hadn’t been his plants.

Suddenly the air pressure around him normalized and his ears popped with the unexpected change. His skin tingled as the electricity begin to dissipate, and a tension he hadn’t known he was carrying left with the sensation and brought a heavy return to reality. He pushed forward on the accelerator of the hovercraft and headed back toward where he’d left the heart of the action.

When he arrived he found that the webs of his plants remained, flowers of pink, green, and blue giving a false sense of security and masking their savagery. In the center of the rubble below his eyes locked on the black-clad Kim Possible, her mussed hair blowing in the wind as she embraced her dorky space-suit clad boyfriend. Shego was nowhere to be seen, he realized, as he brought the craft down slowly.

“What happened?" he asked as he leapt down and cautiously lingered several yards from the teens, “What’d I miss?"

The two put a foot of space between them, but Kim’s arms remained around her boyfriend’s neck as he shyly brushed back his sweat-dampened hair.

“You kinda had to be here," Stoppable said, the pair of them grinning broadly.

“Where’s Shego?” Drakken asked, looking around the rubble. The last thing he wanted to think about was another Kim Possible victory. She’d have been nothing without his plants this time, surely.

Kim suddenly gasped and began running and leaping through the rubble. Drakken blinked and after a moment made to follow, hurrying to match pace with an equally confused Stoppable. No way would he be left out this time.

He lifted his eyes as he heard Kim skid to a stop and his heart leapt into his throat at what he saw: Shego, still wearing her space suit, lay face down and un-moving in the dirt, limbs splayed and hair wild around her.

“Shego!” he cried desperately as he dropped to his knees at her side. He reached to turn her over but Kim’s open palm in front of his face halted him.

“Wait,” she said, as her other hand felt his sidekick’s neck for a pulse.

A growl rumbled in his chest as he defiantly—but tenderly—pulled Shego to him and laid her head atop his folded knees.

“She’s my sidekick, I think I know what’s best.”

“Dude, even I know you don’t move a person when you don’t know what their injuries are.”

"Her heart's stopped," Kim's blunt interruption brought Drakken's focus back down. Kim was leaning over Shego's face now and had a hand pressed to her chest. "And she's not breathing."

Drakken was sure his own heart stopped for a moment as he stared down at his sidekick's closed eyes and still form. She was a dead weight—he cursed his brain for choosing that word—on his lap, her arms and legs limp and askew where he had dragged her. A paralyzing fear suddenly gripped his being and he found himself unable to speak.

"You're still CPR certified, right KP? I mean, all the babysitting..." Stoppable was saying. Drakken heard him as if from a distance, his blood thumping in his ears as he stared at Shego's face. It was the most serene he had ever seen her.

"There's probably still time," Kim answered, pushing up the sleeves of her graduation robe. "She'll have to be flat on the ground, Drakken. Drakken? Let go!"

Drakken blinked back to awareness and realized he was holding tight to one of Shego's shoulders and his other hand was fastened around her wrist. He knew Kim was right of course, and forced himself to release his protective hold and let the teen gently begin moving his sidekick down.

"Whoa man, are you hurt?" Stoppable asked. Drakken blinked at the sudden appearance of thick smears of blood on his thighs. His eyes widened again, and he went through the mental analysis so fast he didn't even need to give presence to any of the thoughts. His hand was already moving cautiously beneath Shego's head, where Kim's had moved too.

He bit the inside of his cheeks as his stomach churned at the feeling beneath his fingers. Through the thick hair where he should have felt hard bone, he felt the unnatural give of the skull as he pressed it notably against soft tissue.

Kim gasped as they both drew their hands back in time. He looked first at his own black glove, covered in the slick substance and then at Kim's hand, streaked red to her wrist. He followed her arm to her heaving chest and up to her terrified eyes. And again he found himself paralyzed, but with something deeper than fear that he couldn't put a name to. He made one feeble attempt at speech, but his closed throat prevented it.

"Wade," Kim said, talking into the device on her wrist. "I hate to ask you to do this, but I need a scan of Shego's skull and brain for injuries. I'm...afraid it's not going to be good."

"On it, Kim," the boy said as a beam came out of the wrist-device and passed over Shego's head.

Drakken saw Stoppable begin anxiously biting the nails of both hands—well, space gloves—as he stared at the bloody hand that Kim still had raised in the air.

"How is it?" Kim asked. "And...her heart's stopped and she's not breathing. Probably more than five minutes now," she finished dejectedly.

Drakken peered at the small screen on Kim's wristwatch as the boy's eyes grew wide and he pushed his chair back from his desk.

"Oh, man."

---------

Drakken fidgeted with the edges of his gloves as he sat tensely in the back of the recording studio, waiting.

"You should have changed," his mother whispered for the seventh time. He sighed.

"This is how I'm most comfortable, Mother," he repeated what he had told her after the fourth time. He glanced down at his blue coat draped over his knees. If he looked hard, he could still see the blood stains.

"They want to interview a hero, not a...mad scientist."

Drakken felt his mother's eyes on him, but kept his gaze forward on the green screen. Facing his mother with the truth of his occupation had been painful, and she clearly wasn't going to let it go any time soon.

"Oh, my poor Drewbie..."

Drakken clenched his teeth.

"So many months in jail... And what for? What did any of it get you?"

He understood her anger. He had lied for over twenty years, after all. But he didn't need her judgment. Not now.

Thankfully, he was spared another verbal lashing by the approach of one of the news team holding a shiny, gold medal with the emblem of the United Nations attached to a red, white, and blue ribbon.

"Dr. Drakken?" the man said. "They want you to wear this for the interview. It's going to air during prime time after the UN broadcast. You'll have to give it back so they can present it to you officially at the UN."

The medal was held out and Drakken hesitated for a moment before reaching out and taking it. The gold was heavy in his hand, the etching on its face intricate.

"Sound man wants to mic you. Over here," the man gestured, and Drakken rose to follow absently, still staring at the medal. He had already been pardoned in exchange for the formula to his plant mutagen. And now he was going to be celebrated.

He set the medal around his neck and was surprised to feel...joy. The sensation was unexpected, after all the turmoil of the past several days. The imprisonment, days filled with endless questioning and bargaining, sleepless nights, facing his mother, the confrontation with Team Go...

And of course, Shego.

He blinked away the vision of green and lifted the medal instead to examine it again. It seemed to be real gold. He was...the hero of the world. And it wasn't to him now, but to others to make sure the public knew just who had prevented their destruction. And they were glad to do it! He would finally—

His thoughts were broken as a man slipped a small wire down his collar, right next to his flower-vine-thing and attached a small microphone to his lapel.

"We're going to...skip makeup, all right Sir?"

'He called me 'sir'...'

"Sir? If you'll sit over here?"

"Yes, of course," Drakken said, moving to the plush chair in front of the green screen that would face the interviewer—a man he recognized from one of the evening reporting programs—and settling back comfortably. The man escorting him had him shift several times until the angle was just so for each camera, and then he disappeared as the reporter took the chair across from him.

"It's nice to meet you Dr. Drakken," the man said, fairly staring at him.

Drakken winced slightly under the scrutiny. "Eh...your...name escapes me."

"Brian Barrett," the man said, planting his feet on the ground.

"Okay, we're rolling," a voice caught Drakken's attention and he turned to see a large camera lens pointed directly at him. He glanced around the area past the green screen and saw no less than six cameras, capturing all different angles. He self-consciously felt behind his neck for the flower...vine...whatever, and was relieved to find it tucked beneath his collar.

"A pleasure to meet you Dr. Drakken!" Barrett said, and Drakken turned back to see the man extending a hand and flashing a perfectly white smile. All traces of inappropriate staring were gone, replaced with cheer and interest.

So that's how it was. Well, game on.

Drakken shook the offered hand and returned the smile. "The pleasure is mine...Mr. Barrett," he said, remembering the name at the last moment.

"I speak for everyone here at WNEW when I say, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Your sentient vines are nothing short of genius."

Drakken sat up a little taller with pride, despite himself. "Well..."

"And on a personal note, my sister and her kids were in Madison Square Gardens when the aliens attacked. If not for your intervention, I could have lost them."

Drakken deflated just as quickly as he'd puffed up, and he forced the grin to stay on his face. "Well..." he repeated more weakly, "it was...what had to be done."

Barrett sat back in his chair and lifting a notepad, gestured toward the main camera with it. "We've been asking viewers to call in for the past week with their questions for you, and we've made a list of all the most-asked. So..." he turned to address the camera, "now begins the dialogue between the world, and Dr. Drakken."

Drakken bit the inside of his cheek as tension began to seep into his body.

"And the most asked question," Barrett said, turning back with a smile, "which I'm sure is no surprise... Why are you blue?"

Drakken laughed. Too loudly, he realized, and forced himself to sit back and try to relax. Everything would be fine. "Funny story, actually. You see it was a Tuesday..."

As Drakken recounted the story, he felt more and more at ease. The reporter was genuinely listening and not interrupting. In his peripheral vision he could see his mother standing next to the main camera, watching. And though he knew she was still angry, he could tell she was smiling.

Hero-life would take getting used to, but it would be worth it.

"Fascinating," Barrett said, when Drakken finally finished. "And the second most-asked question from our viewers... Why did you become a villain?"

The brief peace Drakken had felt evaporated like a puff of smoke and he felt a weight begin a slow descent from his chest to his stomach.

"Ah...well, that's a...different story..." He swallowed nervously and bit his cheek harder to keep from frowning.

"The public wants to know who their hero is," Barrett encouraged with his perfect grin.

The cheer was no longer convincing, but Drakken felt trapped. "Well, it...started in college when my friends started making fun of me. Of course, I had been made fun of for most of my life..."

He relayed the tale in full, the journalist again letting him speak uninterrupted. When he recounted the weeks of bullying he faced after the original Bebes he felt anger beginning to take hold of him. He paused to take a deep breath and dug his fingers into the armrests of the chair. When he continued he spoke more slowly and clinically, forcing himself to remain detached. It certainly wouldn't do for the world to see their hero showing symptoms of villainy.

"I couldn't attend my classes anymore. I was a laughing-stock. Even the professors thought so. Somehow I decided the best way to prove myself and get revenge would be...through illicit means. And over time it went past revenge until...I decided to take over the world." He bit down hard on the desire to go on about his genius. A familiar voice was in his head telling him to keep it short and make sure to use real words.

He stared hard at Barrett to shut out the voice.

"I'm sure everyone out there can relate in some way," the journalist said. Drakken gripped the armrests harder. 'No,' he wanted to say, 'no you don't know what that kind of betrayal is like.' But instead he sat back and smiled. "Now the third most-asked question from our viewers gets a bit deeper into your villainy. How did you feel about killing people?"

Drakken was caught off-guard. The smiling facade fell instantly as he pulled back in surprise. "Wh-what...? No no, you're...mistaken. I didn't kill people," he said, waving his hands defensively. "I didn't kill anyone," he repeated, looking over to his mother. Her face was the strangest mix of anger and despair he had ever seen.

The journalist turned the page of his notebook and pulled out a stack of papers. "Your police record shows several charges for felony murder. People suffocating in...cheese? Several Florida residents dying from complications after being under the influence of your mind-control; multiple earthquake-related deaths when you tried to merge the continents... I could go on?"

Drakken was sweating now and kept glancing between Barrett, his mother, and the emergency exit sign in his peripheral vision.

"Of course, the one that the whole world is familiar with is when you engineered Bueno Nacho kids' meal toys to be killer robots. So many innocent people, dead for absolutely nothing," the journalist continued. "Simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Memories of all the schemes Barrett had mentioned were flashing through his head, but they were all suddenly replaced by a new image. One of blood-drenched black hair draped across his lap.

"So, Dr. Drakken?"

Drakken blinked away the image and stared at Barrett's face. "I'm sorry... Can you repeat the question?"

"How do you feel about the people you've killed?"

Drakken's heart pounded as more and more images that had been the source of his inability to sleep kept flashing before his eyes. He swallowed slowly, his throat dry as he looked through the mirage and at Barrett's face beyond. Ultimately, her death was his fault. He couldn't deny the reality he had created.

"I feel...pain," he said quietly.

Barrett looked at him calmly, studiously, straight into his eyes. The journalist finally sighed softly and his brows furrowed as he shook his head in an expression of...sympathy?

The contrast brought Drakken back to the present, and he leaned back heavily in the chair and carefully measured his breaths.

"Do you still have a desire to do evil things, and to harm people? That's the next question from our viewers."

Drakken glanced around, remembering where he was. He couldn't stop himself from fidgeting with his gloves as he responded, though.

"I never...really wanted to hurt people. I wanted..." He closed his eyes and brought his mind back to college again. "I wanted them to stop. Laughing. And to recognize the great genius that I am. Everywhere I went, people knew me for my failure. I just wanted the world to know me for my greatness."

He felt sick to his stomach now, recalling all of the more unpleasant aspects of doing evil that he simply turned a blind eye to. One couldn't be a villain without hurting others in some way. Unless you were legitimate like Jack Hench. But Drakken didn't have the time to build a legitimate empire.

"So you don't want to do evil anymore?"

Drakken shook his head. "No." But even as he said it, he felt the selfish desire wind its tendrils around his heart. He thought he meant it...did he not?

"And the last most-asked question from our viewers... Why did you decide to save the world?"

At that, Drakken returned to himself in an instant, straightening up in the chair and adopting the fake-nice look he had started the interview with. The truth was simply that he hadn't. He just needed to stop Warmonga from taking over the world, because...it was his world! Not some idiotic alien traveler's. He wasn't saving anyone, just his own interests. It was entirely selfish.

"Because..." he said with a pleasant smile, "the world is worth fighting for."

---------

He didn't have to act too surprised when they placed the medal on him officially; the cheers of the crowd were enough to make him giddy, and he smiled out at all of them with what he hoped looked like humility. Truthfully he was nervous that they would ask more difficult questions, but they didn't. All were forward-looking and hopeful.

Between interviews his mother had scolded his unpreparedness for the first one and gave him tips on how to reply to questions in later ones. Never one to scoff at his mother's advice, he used her words and answered things broadly and ambiguously.

What would he do now? Find a way to unite all of humanity under one common goal. How would he do it? By finding ways to stop planet-threatening problems. What was it like being a hero? He didn't consider himself a hero—he simply did what had to be done. Any of them would have done the same if they had his genius, right?

After the ceremony and lots of photos and a fancy dinner with the presidents of nine countries, he lay on the bed of his hotel suite grinning up at the ceiling. There were definite perks to being a 'hero' that he hadn't considered at first. Maybe he would milk this situation for awhile before going back to world-domination. In fact, it would probably work to his advantage.

"Drew," his mother said, half-knocking as she passed through his open door. "Have you thought any more about—?"

"I already told you Mother..." he sighed, "I'm not moving back home."

"But sweetie, you're going to need my help to get everything back to normal."

Drakken sat up in one swift move, a chaotic mix of emotions coursing through him.

Normal? Normal!? He didn't even know what normal was anymore. If the normal she meant was a lifetime of being teased despite all his best efforts to be 'normal,' then he didn't want it. If she meant moving on from villainy, he didn't know for sure that he wanted that—after all, what would 'moving on' mean? It had been a week and there had been no job offers. But there had been two days in prison which he only bribed himself out of by surrendering his mutagen. Not mention that he was now some sort of weird plant-human hybrid and had no idea how or if that could even be remedied. For all he knew, it would kill him in a matter of days.

No, whatever she thought was 'normal' certainly wasn't going to happen.

But neither was what he had considered normal for the past several years. As a 'hero' he certainly couldn't disappear into a secret lair and plot world domination again. He couldn't hide...anywhere. And what was the point of world domination when in fact, the world did seem to recognize his genius now? They would definitely hate him more if he conquered it after saving them all.

"No, Mother," he shook his head and fell back down on the bed. He grabbed the TV remote and pushed the power button, hoping for something to drown her out as well as his thoughts. "I'm...I'm grateful, but I need to handle things myself."

He had no idea what to do with his life now. The medal was still around his neck, the gold a weight on his chest as it rose and fell with breaths that were too quick. In an instant, a flash of yellow in his peripheral vision signaled the arrival of the petals that often framed his face now. He sighed and let them be. Mad scientist, decorated hero, and laughing-stock. That's what he was.

"Look Drewbie, you're on TV again."

He turned his head to see the small, hotel TV screen. His interest was piqued by the stern face of Brian Barrett, while his own picture was in the corner in double—one, a shot from the UN ceremony, and another an old mugshot.

He sat up and turned up the TV volume.

"Is he hero or villain? Your questions and the world's answered now, in this one-hour expose on Dr. Drakken."

"One hour...? That interview wasn't even thirty minutes..."

"It begins in a small town in New Jersey, at the childhood home of Drew Theodore P. Lipsky," Barrett continued in voice-over as a picture of his mother's house appeared on the screen.

"Hey!" he cried, lurching forward. None of the interviews he had had talked about his childhood in any way. He looked over at his mother, who looked equally perplexed.

She sat beside him on the bed and they watched and listened as an accurate but thinly detailed biography was painted of the blue man, all clearly leading up toward his turn to evil. There were quotes from old teachers and classmates, one from his first boss in high school, and then his college professors and former friends. None were kind.

"Drew was most certainly a genius," an old professor said, the program past its half-way point now. "He finished every assignment ahead of everyone else and seemed to understand all the material before I even finished teaching it. But he was strange and secretive... He would work on private projects in the university laboratories, stealing materials, and then deny it. And he was careful about it too, so we couldn't prove it. With some of the experiments we knew he was conducting, we're not sure where he safely hid the materials."

Drakken thought about his early weapon designs and the great lengths he had gone to to hide them. It had been no easy feat, either! He wished Barrett had asked him questions about his inventions. Those would have been fun to answer.

"The only things we found were after he dropped out of school. He left so quickly that he forgot a few things. There were these blueprints for a new type of engine that revolutionized fuel consumption..."

Drakken remembered suddenly the gift for his cousin Eddie that he had never finished and forgotten about, in his haste to leave MIST. Perhaps now it was finished he should—

"Hey! They stole my designs!"

He rose from the bed, fists balled in anger as he stared at the scans of blueprint after blueprint of technologies he had dreamed up in every field, for which he had failed to file patents. His chest heaved in anger as he listened to how his inventions were being used to better the world and he was receiving none of the credit for it.

"And we couldn't give any of the designs back since he disappeared. And after he turned up blue on our security cameras when he robbed the university a year later, we figured...might as well patent them ourselves," the professor finished.

"And so Drew Lipsky faded into infamy and Dr. Drakken, mad scientist was born. And now with an exclusive interview filmed after the ceremony at the UN, here is Brian Barrett with Dr. Drakken."

"But it was filmed hours before the ceremony..." Drakken protested, sitting back on the bed next to his mother. He watched as the camera swept over the false background of a UN office that had replaced the green screen.

"How do you feel about the people you've killed?"

"I didn't kill anyone." The camera angle switched off of Barrett's open, emotional face to the anxious one of Drakken.

"They did that thing where they show it out of order," his mother gasped in astonishment. "They're trying to make my heroic baby look bad! Well, they're going to hear from me!"

Drakken barely looked up as his mother stomped out of the room, presumably to the telephone. He watched slack-jawed as the interview continued to paint him as nothing short of psychotic, the camera zooming in on his twitching fingers gripping the chair each time a difficult question was asked, the clips having been edited to suit the intent of the expose.

"Could the mad scientist's statement be genuine, or is there another meaning behind it, leading us to believe that he may resume his world-dominating evil schemes? We go to the public now, for their comments."

The screen changed to daytime outside the UN and played a montage of brief comments from various citizens. He noticed a large majority holding protest signs against him. Why hadn't he been told there were protestors?

"Should Dr. Drakken be forgiven for his former crimes?"

"Absolutely not. My nephew was killed when those Diablo robots attacked. One good deed doesn't abolish a lifetime of sin."

"Heck, I'll forgive him. Who knows what those aliens would have done to us? At least with Dr. Drakken we just know we're getting a second-rate villain."

"Well, maybe a reduced sentence? I mean, I believe in justice. But he did save us from invading aliens. It's a tough one, morally."

Drakken sank down listening to the honest words of the people. He picked up his medal in his hand and stared at it. The people didn't love him after all. Did his victory mean anything?

"We have received authoritative word that Dr. Drakken has been pardoned of all his past crimes, in thanks for his world-saving heroics earlier this week. But will he now follow the path of the hero, or will he remain a villain?"

The scene changed back to Barrett's final interview question from that day, and Drakken started when the camera panned down and zoomed in on the faint bloodstains on his lab coat.

"The world is worth fighting for," he answered and the camera panned back up to his oddly blank face. Ominous music finished out the program as the credits rolled, showing a montage of destruction that his years of capers had caused.

Drakken was fuming. They had lied to him. All of them! They wanted nothing more than a good story to boost their ratings! They were all evil and self-serving!

...Exactly like him.

The realization hit him like a slap in the face, and clutching the medal around his neck he strode out of the room.

"...and I'll have you know, if you don't put out an immediate retraction then my son is going to sue you and your—Drew? Where are you going?"

He passed his mother on the phone without a word and left the hotel room, yanking the yellow petals from around his neck as he went. Minutes later he found himself in his hover car, lifting off and flying up as high as it would take him, far away from reality.

---------

"No! No! Someone help meeeeee! Shegoooooo!"

The vines were ineffective. He turned wildly, looking for any chance of escape as the scrape of metal and the approaching tangle of his vines heralded his certain death.

"Help! Someone help!" he cried as the vines began pressing against him. He held out his arms and pressed with all his might against the metal through the vines, but still the walls kept coming.

"Noooooooo! Please, someone help me!"

Suddenly a heat and a flash of green fire surrounded him, scorching away all of his vines but leaving him untouched. He saw clearly now the gray walls that would kill him and an inhuman wail came out of his throat as they began touching him on all sides.

'I'm going to die. I'm dying,' he thought as the pressure built and began forcing his bones to move into unnatural positions. 'How did this happen?'

The just as suddenly as the threat had come, it vanished. He blinked and turned around in shock, finding himself on a high platform—or stone?—rising out of dark clouds. The only sight in every direction were the stars and he gasped in wonder. What had happened?

"Sorry, Dr. D."

He whirled around. "Shego!?" She stood about twenty feet from him, hands uncharacteristically folded in front of her and a small, but peaceful smirk on her face. So Shego had saved him after all...

"You were there! And then you weren't!" he cried, rushing toward her as he had moments before on the ship.

"Didn't mean to leave. Wasn't exactly my choice."

Drakken slowed his run as he realized he wasn't getting any closer to her, even though clouds were passing on his left and right.

"Shego?"

The dark clouds began moving around her, swirling upward like one of the atmospheric science experiments he had performed in college. Her smile faded as she lifted one hand in a motionless wave moments before the clouds enveloped her entirely.

"Shego!" he cried, reaching desperately toward her, finally making some ground. But when his hand touched the mist it evaporated and she was gone.

"Come back! Shegooooooo!"

Drakken jerked awake from the nightmare in shock, looking around him in panic. His heart rate began to slow when he realized he was on a familiar cliff, laying in a familiar field of flowers.

The nightmare wouldn't leave him alone. He'd been having it since the first night after the invasion, and every night since. It always happened exactly the same way. He had long given up trying to understand it, and now only wished it would go away so he could get some sleep. But just as when he had been hatching evil plots, sleep eluded him now in his new life as a hero.

For 'hero' the public had decided he was. Days after the news expose and his disappearance—rather, hopscotching from lair to lair trying to decide what to do—new protests had begun and a huge public campaign to wipe his record clean had gone forward. By the end of the second week after the invasion, the overwhelming opinion was that Dr. Drakken was the world's hero, and that any past sin could be forgiven.

He had gone back during the third week to try out this new life, and during the fourth week found himself firmly established at one of Japan's most up-and-coming robotics research facilities. He was now designing technologies to help combat any future alien invasions and anything else that might threaten the Earth, which was now working towards a united global government.

He received constant praise from peers and now attended interviews in which he heard nothing but thanks and even apologies from past nemeses. Even MIST apologized for stealing his inventions.

Drakken had everything. Well, almost everything.

Conspicuously absent in every interview and news article was any mention of a certain former hero-turned-villain, in favor of the new villain-turned-hero. Until the day he went back to Middleton to receive an honorary doctorate at MIST. Of course, the local news wanted an interview about the hero they considered 'one of their own' due to his association with a certain red-haired teenager. But the doctorate was the last thing on his mind when he left Middleton that day.

"Now Dr. Drakken," Tricia Lebowski said, holding the microphone beneath her chin as they stood outside the big sign in front of MIST, "she's been hardly mentioned by any of the networks, but Middleton will never forget your sidekick, Shego. We haven't been able to find any details, but we understand she was killed in the Lorwardian attack?"

Drakken suddenly found his throat dry as a microphone was shoved under his nose. "I...I, ah...would rather not talk about Shego, actually."

A weight suddenly fell into the pit of his stomach. It was the first time he had said her name since...

"I do apologize for your loss. The public wants to know, how instrumental was the former Team Go hero to your success as a villain?"

Drakken swallowed painfully as sweat began breaking out on his forehead. "She was everything, I... I said I don't want to talk about her," he squeaked out.

"I do apologize," Lebowski repeated. "The public also wants to know...was she more than a sidekick to you?"

Heart-racing, Drakken turned on his heel and ran to the hovercraft, his medal bouncing painfully against his chest. He was sure the news cameras were following his cowardly retreat, but... He couldn't talk about her. He just couldn't.

Hours later found him collapsed on a flower-covered hillside asleep in a puddle of his own tears. And now the sun was setting as he woke from the nightmare that seemed would plague him forever.

He sat up and stared past the edge of the cliff at the blinding reflection of the sun glistening on the sea. It was an appropriate spot, he had decided, much to her brothers' dissatisfaction. But as the world's hero he had some sway in the matter.

He crossed his legs and brought his eyes down to the headstone. All that was inscribed on it was her name, date of birth, and date of death.

He stared down at the carved name even as more of his flowers curled around the stone. He wondered what she would say about his life now.

He had a great job...that he performed during the day, and then went home to an empty penthouse apartment every night. He was lauded worldwide...but no one ever wanted more conversation out of him than TV and magazine interviews.

He had two Nobel Prizes for things he had invented back at MIST that were now recognized as his. HOURS Magazine called him the 'greatest genius of modern history.' And his world-saving medal from the UN hung around his neck daily to remind him that he finally had everything he had ever wanted.

A hand reached up to grip the medal as he thought about the sleepless nights at his penthouse. His only companion in that place were his nightmares.

It had taken only a week for him to realize he was lonely. So after awhile he'd bucked up the courage to invite one of his colleagues in Japan if he wanted to get drinks after work one night. The other scientist had made a polite apology and excuse, but it was clear to Drakken from the look in the man's eyes that there would be absolutely no socializing outside work with the blue freak.

He gripped his medal more tightly. 'I have everything...' He'd been telling himself that on repeat for more days than he could count now. But time was doing absolutely nothing to make him believe it.

It had been six weeks since...well, since the invasion. That's what everyone else called it. In his mind, he didn't identify the event that way.

He gently set his other hand on the gravestone and ran his gloved fingers over the carved name.

"Are you happy...wherever you are?" he whispered. "Are you...are you anywhere?"

The sea before him still shimmered with the light of the setting sun, but above him dark clouds were gathered. A soft roll of thunder was his only warning before the warm rain began to fall. It wasn't long before his tears joined the raindrops running down his face.

"I miss you," he choked out between sobs. When had he started sobbing?

He stood from his crouch in front of the grave and stepped to the edge of the cliff, looking down as the raindrops dampened the beach below.

It was time to stop lying to himself. The world...hadn't been worth fighting for after all.

He took out his state-of-the-art Blackberry and sent a short email, and then set the device back in his coat pocket. Then he took a small vial out of the same pocket and tucked it into his pants pocket, patting it gently. Next he took off his blue lab coat—something he had refused to part with—folded it, and lay it at the foot of her grave. He let his eyes linger for a moment on where the bloodstains were still visible if he looked closely enough. He never did have it properly cleaned.

Last, he took off the medal and set it atop the grave.

When he turned he glanced at the hovercraft for a moment before turning to take the narrow pathway down the cliff side. It was precarious, and he nearly lost his balance a few times, especially after the rain and wind picked up. But finally he made it down to the beach and purposefully approached the waters.

He shielded his eyes against the sun as he stared out on the sea. It had darkened where the storm clouds hung over it now, but beyond it still glistened in the light of the setting sun. Light was hope, and promise. But when the sun finished its descent the light would vanish, giving victory to the clouds. Light was just a facade, anyway.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward into the surf. The waters were surprisingly cold, for the Caribbean. He grit his teeth and forced himself to ignore it as he stepped further and further out into the sea. The rain had plastered his hair to his face and he swept it out of his eyes to stare at the roll of the waves as he went deeper and deeper.

When he was nearly up to his neck and the saltwater began splashing into his mouth, his vines made their appearance. In a display more magnificent than anything they had done yet, they weaved a lattice raft and lifted him up out of the waters, forcing him to float on the rocky seas.

He had expected this.

He took the small vial out of his pants pocket and uncorked it. He carefully poured the thick, glowing green liquid out onto the vines. Instantly they burst into a green flame resistant to the waters and the lattice began burning away beneath him. He grit his teeth when the fire traveled up against his neck and seconds later he let out a scream. The pain caused him to see white, such to the point that he didn't notice when the vines had finally burned away and he fell back into the waters again.

The shock caused him to take a large gulp of sea water into his lungs and he began desperately flailing and gasping for air, acting on instinct rather than intent. But as his situation set in he forced himself to stop his vain paddling even as he continued to choke. His head broke the surface of the waters and he gasped for air and blinked vainly into the rain and slaps of salt water against his face.

He caught a glimpse of green fire burning the remnants of his vines and felt a final swell of satisfaction. He knew concentrating Shego's power would be good for something someday.

It seemed she had saved him one last time.

His lungs, full of water were failing to draw in any oxygen. His vision went black as he gasped for air again, flailing against his will as he sank beneath the surface into the depths. Heat, pain, and pressure came against him on all sides, like the walls of the Lorwardian spaceship in his nightmares.

'I'm going to die. I'm dying,' he thought, just like in his nightmare.

'Are you happy? Are you anywhere?' he called out with the last thread of hope in his heart.

The void he had willingly entered only expanded and became silent. There were no stars this time as the walls finally closed in. He seemed to have forgotten how to move his arms to try to get out. Did he have arms anymore? He couldn't feel them. He couldn't even feel the green fire at his neck anymore as he sank deeper...and deeper...and deeper...

'I miss you so much...'

Deeper...into the dark...

'Shego...'

------ fin.

#kim possible #shego #drakken #drakgo #dragko #gothicthundra #drakken x shego #drakken and shego #drakkenandshego #shego x drakken #dr drakken #dr. drakken #kp drakken #kp #kp dr. drakken

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winterironspringfling · 5 years ago

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2019 Spring Fling: Gift List

As always, a huge, heartfelt THANK YOU to everyone who was a part of the exchange this year; the helpers, the participants, the people now leaving comments and kudos, and everyone who helped spread the word by liking and sharing our posts. This exchange wouldn’t have been possible without you.

You’re the best, you rock, we love you!

And now, without further ado: the complete 2019 WinterIron Spring Fling Gift List!

Enjoy! 💕

Sparks Fly by tisfan for Lets_call_me_Lily Tony travels to Shelbyville, Indianna to fix Bucky’s arm… and while he’s there, maybe they’ll go see the fireworks show together.

🌸🌸🌸

The Winter Sentinel by james for tarot_card Bucky tests as a Sentinel when he's thirteen, and he knows it means his life won't be easy.

Which is a bit of an understatement, really.

🌸🌸🌸

When We Met In Paris by TheVagabondBoy for scarynoodles Neither Tony nor Bucky expected to run into each other in a bar in Paris.

🌸🌸🌸

Mechanical Creations by celtic7irish for yourselenite Tony Stark is a tattoo artist who gains inspiration from all things technical. When Tall, Dark, and Handsome walks in wanting a cover-up tattoo, Tony is only too happy to oblige. Oh, and did he mention? He really, really likes that metal arm.

🌸🌸🌸

My soul screams for you by IronEyes for Potrix In Siberia Tony learns how his parents really died. In Siberia Tony gets betrayed by one of his best friends. In Siberia Tony finds the killer of his parents and… his soulmate. Tony has no idea how to handle this, but he can’t stay away from Bucky.

🌸🌸🌸

The Beautiful Light of Madness in Your Eyes by tisfan for shadowgrl94 In the Soul Stone, time is relative, people are at peace. It is a paradise, but also a trap. Can Tony break the trap and bring everyone home?

Especially when he risks losing the only thing that matters...

🌸🌸🌸

To keep you safe inside my arms by ShadowsintheClouds for celtic7irish Tony and Bucky had been secretly dating for a while. They loved having their little secret. It was something special between them. But, a night out by the lake with the other Avengers threatens to take their secret away from them.

🌸🌸🌸

Kiss Me Deadly by yourselenite for MassiveSpaceWren Just a skip and a jump back in time before World War I where Anthony Stark and James Barnes are secretly together in the early 1900s.

🌸🌸🌸

Hold You Close (To Keep You Warm) by ChaoticDemon for sara_wolfe Five times Tony and Bucky cuddled for warmth and one time they didn't bother with the pretense.

🌸🌸🌸

Where No Other Love Goes by Stark-N-Barnes for TheSopherfly “I want to,” he confessed.

Bucky flinched.

“What?”

Tony stared at him with a look in his eyes that spoke more volume than words, as the realisation wrapped itself around Bucky.

“I don't want to hurt you…” he whispered.

“Bucky…”

~or~

That time Bucky was undoubtedly in love with Tony, but didn't think he could have him.

🌸🌸🌸

And the light, it shines from you by Lets_call_me_Lily for its_inherited Tony and Bucky snuggling in bed; it's been a long day.

🌸🌸🌸

Connection and Intent by SierraNovembr for sleepoverwork When Tony’s father is murdered, he takes a desperate risk to uncover the truth and save the man he loves. It changes his life forever.

🌸🌸🌸

Puppy Love by Reioka for ShadowsintheClouds Bucky is learning to become a person again. When some guy starts crying all over Natasha's dog, he decides he's doing better than he originally thought.

🌸🌸🌸

Howlin' For You by justanotherpipedream for james When the sun goes down, Sheriff Bucky sets up his rifle, ready to shoot any gnoll, ghoul or beast that tries to raid his small town in the cover of the night. Night after night, Bucky keeps watch, running himself ragged all the while. Worried for his friend, Steve offers a solution to his problem.

“So your solution is that I get myself a mail order bride? An’ then what?”

“Or groom. We knew you like both options. You need a partner Bucky.”

🌸🌸🌸

Promises by Iron_Eirlyssa for Lunatical When a mission goes wrong, it leaves Bucky and Tony trapped together, waiting for help. That might turn out to be a good thing in the end, though.

🌸🌸🌸

We Fuck With the Lights On by badgerling for tisfan Bucky wakes up naked in a room. Tony Stark wakes up naked in the same room. Turns out, they're both actually okay with that.

🌸🌸🌸

Redemption by Lunatical for calmena After remembering they were responsible for the deaths of Howard and Maria Stark, Bucky and the Soldier start watching over Tony in a desperate attempt to redeem themselves. When the Avengers get ready to raid the Hydra base that's housing Loki's scepter, they're there to intervene.

Of course, they didn't expect to end up at Stark Tower, living alongside a bunch of superheroes, and they certainly didn't think they'd end up falling in love with Tony Stark. Especially since the man still doesn't know what they've done.

Will Tony ever be able to forgive them?

🌸🌸🌸

The Stranger in the Woods by TheSopherfly for JenJo “Mage shouldn’t be walkin’ in these woods alone at night,” James said.

Mage. So James knew, then. About Tony’s powers. Tony breathed deeply, the warm ghost of steam rising from his mug and tickling his nostrils. “Why’s that?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He’d felt something in the forest, of course, but forests were always full of creatures and strange energies. Too many trees in one place scrambled his senses almost as well as a confusion charm.

“There are things in here that like mages a little too much,” James said, and Tony hung on the words in fascination. “Plenty of things that don’t like mages, too.”

🌸🌸🌸

Fine Art by endof_theline for SierraNovembr Tony is a pre-tenure professor at the national defense research institute. His life is a ball of stress until he meets Bucky the barista at the local and remembers that there’s more to life than the next publication, but he might just be able to help with it.

🌸🌸🌸

Roses for a Wallflower by tarot_card for burbear Bucky keeps finding flowers: in his favorite books, on his spot on the couch, in his breakfast cereal box, you name it. When he looks up what the names are, he also finds their meanings, ranging from forgiveness to friendship to even romantic feelings.

🌸🌸🌸

(Don't) Believe My Words by FreyaS for IronEyes Tony Stark grew up knowing he was a disappointment and a failure in the eyes of not only his father but his eventual soulmate. After all, the words "I wish I'd never met you" can only be a rejection, right?

Bucky knew that he'd love the soulmate that would give him his beautiful soulwords but sometimes he feared they would never measure up to his celebrity crush, Tony Stark.

🌸🌸🌸

a tale of the lil' mer who could by sleepoverwork for badgerling Little mermaid meets Anthony Edward Stark and it turns out about as well as how you think it would.

(The scene of the shipwreck with Ariel meeting and saving Prince Eric, bless Part of your World, still one of my favorite songs even after all of these years)

Tony just needed space, which is exactly why he idiotically swam to the surface after dark, away from the safety and constriction that came from his pod, his home.

If given the chance, Tony knows he could find and save his parents. He just didn't know how to prove to everyone and the spirits of the sea he could, and would, do just that.

🌸🌸🌸

You Are My Sunshine by EchoSiriusRumme for gryvon Tony is captured and deaged while on a business trip, but the team - his family - jumps right into action to take care of their tiny, shy resident genius while they figure out how to fix this. Or at least, they try to, concern growing each time he freezes at the sight of Steve.

But that was something personal, whispered to Bucky between frustrated tears one night, so Bucky wouldn’t be telling that secret unless push came to shove.

Too bad for Tony....it does.

🌸🌸🌸

Perestroika by blue_pointer for InsaneJuliann According to Doctor Strange's vision, Tony Stark is the only man who can save the universe from the Decimation. But who will save Tony Stark? Bucky must use the Time stone to travel to the past and make sure Tony makes it safely to 2023.

🌸🌸🌸

Drowning by sara_wolfe for EchoSiriusRumme It was only supposed to be a prank. It wasn't supposed to go this wrong...

🌸🌸🌸

Travelling the world only to end up home by JenJo for hopespym Bucky has been travelling with his son to try and find a blacksmith who can fix his arm.

He ends up back where everything started for him, in a place where he had once dared to dream of a future, before he had his heart broken.

Tony has spent his time building a name for himself as the blacksmith who can fix anything and everything. He never expected to see the man who broke his heart walk through his door.

🌸🌸🌸

What happens in Zurich by siyuttov for TheVagabondBoy Tony Stark is sent to evaluate the Winter Soldier, who claims to have defected from Hydra and is hoping SHIELD can help take down his former employers.

🌸🌸🌸

Not Ideal but Workable by calmena for marsmaywander Tony and Bucky go on a date. It goes about as wrong as it can, to the surprise of exactly nobody.

They make it work, anyway.

🌸🌸🌸

tell me who i am (because i don't know) by scarynoodles for ChaoticDemon “Is that all you called me here for?”

Tony stands up abruptly, walking around the desk and glancing out one of the windows. “No, actually. See, Pepper’s been nagging me to get an actual bodyguard since that happened. Usually, I would just argue that I don’t need one, since – technically, I’m my own bodyguard, but now she won’t let up since I was in the suit and still couldn’t fight back against a civilian.” Tony ignores the heat crawling up the back of his neck at that. It had been pretty embarrassing that he’d been jumped like that. “I figured, I might as well hire someone on my own terms before she did it for me. And you’re a good guy, clearly, otherwise you wouldn’t have done what you did. So, want to become my bodyguard?”

It's 2012, and the Avengers have defeated Loki and his army. Tony has a new bodyguard, and all seems well.

Except – his bodyguard acts really strangely at times, and he doesn't seem to be caught up with the world around him. He has a dark, mysterious past which he refuses to divulge beyond little tidbits. Once, he claimed to have killed people. Not to mention he reminds Tony of someone he used to know – someone he used to love – decades ago.

🌸🌸🌸

How to Survive a Haunted House by marsmaywander for Briz “Lord save me from crazy white boys,” were probably going to be Rhodey’s last words. He didn’t care what his friend said; this place was haunted, and they were both gonna end up dead because Tony was too taken in by the ample closet space.

🌸🌸🌸

it starts and ends with memory by Rowantreeisme for Arboreal Tony Carbonell is a completely normal professor at MIT. He tutors kids, both in his class and not, and builds things in his free time. He feeds stray cats and drinks too much coffee and wears dorky shirts to class. He's also an Avenger and the son of the late Howard Stark. He's pretty sure, though, that no one except his two closest friends and his AI's know this. And then the Winter Soldier breaks into his home.

🌸🌸🌸

Will you? [Comic] by MassiveSpaceWren for FreyaS Tony hadn't planned his proposal like this...

🌸🌸🌸

Give or Take by beir for BrightEyesIllusionist After everything, the prince could only hope his ill-fated plan would work.

🌸🌸🌸

Near Miss by Arboreal for justanotherpipedream A car accident, the police had said. He could have lost them to something as stupid as a car accident.

He could have lost them, and his last memories of them would be of arguing with his father and ignoring his mother.

Bucky's trigger words begin to fail. This changes things.

🌸🌸🌸

Tony Stark's Home for Wayward Assassins by gryvon for Stark-N-Barnes Tony Stark's too busy running Stark Resilient and making technological breakthroughs in clean energy and medical technology to pay too much attention to all the superheroes that have been popping up since that crazy horned guy trashed New York City. Then one shows up at his house in the middle of the night demanding Tony fix his broken metal arm and Tony can't in good conscious kick him out after.

Or, how a Tony Stark that never became Iron Man ended up with a Russian assassin living in his mansion.

🌸🌸🌸

Moonshine by InsaneJuliann for blue_pointer Tony's a werewolf and a single dad, which means he doesn't have much time for the dating scene. But a small push from friends leads to him meeting Bucky. Totally human, great, and very interested Bucky. And for the first time in a while, Tony's interested in more than just a life that orbits around only his daughter.

🌸🌸🌸

Fake It 'Til You Make It by hopespym for Reioka So sure. Since he’d gotten back from his station overseas, life hadn’t really been treating him too good.

Before he’d gone he’d had no trouble at all finding someone for the night and even managed a couple of relationships that had all (seemingly) been going pretty well until he’d been left behind as the others continued on with their lives, and after he’d gotten back he hadn’t even really bothered anything.

And all Tinder got him was mugged one time.

🌸🌸🌸

Iron Man: Legend of the Seven Seas by BrightEyesIllusionist for Rowantreeisme Tony Stark is a black hearted pirate who ran away from home years ago. His latest target? The legendary Book of Peace which maintains the treaty between the kingdoms. But the God of Chaos has other plans for the book, and yet more for the black hearted pirate.

🌸🌸🌸

fight 'til we see the sunlight by burbear for siyuttov There are days where Tony regrets not going back on his word, where he wishes he had told Steve “No, actually, keep that murderer out of my house and as far from me as possible.” Pepper and Rhodey even said he should. Not in as many words, certainly not because of Barnes, but because they know Tony.

Tony knows, though, that the safest place for Barnes—and everyone else, since the first day people found out about the Winter Soldier more and more civilians were getting grand ideas about bringing him in—is the Tower. His only stipulation is that Steve keeps Barnes away from him.

His timer is steadily ticking toward zero, to the day he meets his soulmate, but to be honest? Tony has a lot more on his mind than someone fate picked out for him.

🌸🌸🌸

When It Rains It Pours by DreamcatchersDaughter for beir Bucky's sure Tony is half werewolf, Tony is sure Bucky is all fae.... What happens when they are both wrong?

Or 3 times these idiots got it wrong and 1 time they got it so right.

🌸🌸🌸

Hope and Heroes by Zola9612 for endof_theline Young Tony was born without a soul mark. How does that affect his life?

🌸🌸🌸

Your Hand In Mine by celtic7irish for Harpyienkind Omega Tony Stark is the son of Lord Stark. Ever since he presented as an Omega, he has been promised to Lord Barnes, a ruthless warrior of Hydra that he has never even met. Three months pregnant by his lover and heat-partner, Bucky, Tony is terrified for both himself and the unborn child. But Tony Stark has never backed down before, and he’s not about to start now.

🌸🌸🌸

share and celebrate by Potrix for Zola9612 It’s been almost twenty-four hours, but still none of it seems or feels entirely real.

Well, to be fair, learning about the existence of parallel universes, finding out there’s at least one other Earth that has been destroyed by a threat his Earth isn’t even fully aware of yet, and getting two other-universe versions of people he’s currently not exactly on speaking terms with dropped into his lap has been kind of a lot.

It might take Tony another day—or year, more likely—to wrap his head around all of that.

🌸🌸🌸

Wanted: Boyfriend by Briz for DreamcatchersDaughter Well, it was not every day that a job offer knocked on his door looking like something straight out of a porno.

🌸🌸🌸

Cuddles by Briz for Iron_Eirlyssa Thing is, Tony likes touch. In fact, scratch that - he loves touch. He finds out that so does Bucky.

#winterironspringfling #winteriron #buckytony #tony stark #bucky barnes #gift list

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f-117-nighthawk · 5 years ago

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More playlist meta bc I don’t wanna do homework and Jimmy kicked me out of the TA room saying I’d been in there for far too long for a Friday (it was four hours! Interspaced between classes! Workshop kit inventory is just an excuse to blast Gloryhammer to me, it’s fun)

Since I was talking about Ten Thousand Against One earlier, I’ve been thinking about the timeline and which event the songs are connected to. Long post under the cut

Turn the Lights Out is... sort of an odd case. It’s not like Remnants of Stars, which is about Galran and my philosophy about how we were created, what happens to us when we die, and the cycles that power the universe. Of course, Remnants of Stars is a little more than just philosophy. It actually describes (in a rather metaphorical way) the actual process of the marthinazik filtering quintesence into new stars, planets, beings, anything you can think of. It also has a very important lyric for much much later like, post Sticky Notes later. Now that I think about it, it actually defines a good chunk of that maybe-sequel-maybe-idea era in conjunction with Soul Extract’s Filaments.

Anyway, back to Turn the Lights Out. It’s an odd case because it’s sort of like Remnants of Stars in that it’s more about the philosophy, but it’s before Remnants of Stars because it’s also kind of an event. If you read interviews with Delain about Moonbathers, Charlotte states that Turn the Lights Out is about Neil Gaiman's Sandman comics, specifically the character of Death. I confess I haven’t read those comics, but my interpretation fits her rather well I think. To me, Turn the Lights Out is about a gentle god who accepts they will not always be seen as who they are but will give their everything to protect those within their universe. Now, who does that sound like? Which characters have been around since the birth of the universe, under various names, whether they be Ibeshganszá, ‘kibrraldíl, Marduzbazí, or Vôltrôn?

You can make an argument for Your World Will Fail to be directly after Turn the Lights Out, but I rather like it after Remnants of Stars too. Turn the Lights Out is the beginning of the universe, so naturally, it goes first. Sentient life needs to evolve for Remnants of Stars to truly fit, and even though Your Would Will Fail technically can happen at any point between the first Plank time and the next, it also happens when the comet that becomes Voltron crashes into Daibazaal. The Your World Will Fail/Dark Matter/Eater of Worlds trio is both a general, entire timeline-spanning idea, and a specific event.

(Your world will fail my love/It's far beyond repair/Your world will fail my love/It is already there)

(Bring me your soul/Bring me your hate/In my name you will create/Bring me your fear/Bring me your pain/You will destroy in my name)

(Can't imagine the violence/The rage and the love in my madness/I am the eater of worlds and I'm looking for someone to feed me)

And then, right after that event, or even during, you have Apocalypse 1992. The death of the dream, the final madness before the triumph of chaos.

You Keep What You Kill is very much the odd one out out of everything. Helion Prime based it off a book I forget the name of, but here it’s purely about Zarkon’s empire. The “Holy Half-Dead” have lost so much of their culture, of the family bonds that kept them together even when their mistakes threatened the destruction of all, but they still remember the songs of glory. And they do keep what they kill.

And then there’s a rather large time jump of about five thousand Earth years to The Seven Sisters. This song is pretty well encapsulated in Child From the Stars (Lost in the Dark) (which is a lyric from Closure, but Closure is later for Reasons), but the other half of it is connected to Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met.

Who Will Save You Now has gone through so many iterations of what it’s connected to I honestly don’t remember what it actually is anymore. Given its placement between The Seven Sisters and Nobody Gets Left Behind, I think it’s related to the SFSS Genesis’s disappearance. But it could also be placed in conjunction with A Simple Plan and be about something slightly different...hm, I’ll think on that. This song has such a Dark Matter vibe to me, but it hasn’t found a home that sticks in my brain yet.

Nobody Gets Left Behind is really there bc it’s a fun song and when I found 1551 I immediately had to put something in. BUT it is a good song about family dynamics and, well, that’s Voltron in a nutshell right? (and then you get, right there in the first verse, “Don't even try to pretend/That you're rough and just as tough/As when you're missing a friend/Attack and take him back/Cause when the team isn't whole/You've got a hole in your soul/So step up to your fucking role/We might get hurt/We might be taking some hits/But when you're taking our friend/Then that's some personal shit” and you cannot tell me that’s not everybody’s mood post Battle in the Sarnan Nebula)

A Simple Plan is a new addition in the past few weeks. I rediscovered The Spiritual Machines a few weeks ago and the lyric “How long can we hold off ending/How long can we pretend we're ok” hit me right in the Keith feels. So this one is in conjunction with the first verse of Nobody Gets Left Behind. The entire song actually reminds me of Dark Matter with how it’s centralized at one event but contains hints of other things (The truth arrived too slow).

Memories of a Girl I Haven't Met is maybe one standard year (so six earth months-ish?) after A Simple Plan.

String Theory is... weird. It’s mostly there for the title, but the lyrics do contain themes found in other parts of the playlist that fit really well but don’t map to the event I associate the song with. It’s honestly about Shiro missing Adam and the rest of the people on Earth. Which, granted, given the point in the timeline the title is associated with makes a certain amount of sense but...idk. And the bit that begins with “You don’t believe in space” is about something entirely different. It’s confusing, but all inexplicably related to the title event.

Interesting fact: My Dark Matter drafts/ideas folder is actually split int pre- and post- String Theory folders. It was originally because String Theory is such a pivotal moment in the Coalition’s efforts, but it also ended up vaguely the middle of the timeline. It’s the point where things absolutely, truly, have no relation to what happens in canon. The butterfly effect stemming from the events of Shatterpoint (and an implied secondary shatterpoint in another fic) have changed things enough that apart from one general event, nothing happens the same way (and that event is for drastically different reasons). All in all, it fits the weird vibe of the song rather well.

Next is Belgrade, the Ultimate Klance Song, about three months later. Fun Shenanigans happen in conjunction with this absolute bop.

Here’s the surprisingly big gap of just over a standard Earth year, in which several important events happen that don’t have songs attached to them (Roentgen, maybe)

Then we get Birthright/Firewall, a set of songs about reclaiming yourself from the depths of hell with just a liiiiiitle bit of help from your family.

(It's time to take ahold of what belongs to me/It's time to walk away with no apologies/Voices in the mirror start quietly/And now they're screaming back at me!)

(This force knows what you can do/And what you can make/With your tattered shell)

Here Comes the Reign technically starts during Birthright/Firewall, but doesn’t come into full effect until a month later, and then even fuller around five months after that. Meanwhile, we have The Day the Earth Collapsed, which is rather self-explanatory.

A few months later there is Darker Matter. The fic connected to this is real weird, but also real important. Suffice to say it’s gonna be confusing, and a universe doesn’t like the Paladins for a while.

And then we have Closure. Child From the Stars (Lost in the Dark) is actually the first of four fics inspired by Closure’s chorus. (I also drew a picture for each fic. They’re combined into my desktop background, and the first one is still my phone background and my pfp) “I am the child from the stars/That got lost in the dark/Between heaven and hell/I am forced to live on/I am the cause when you sin/I am the demon you skin/But there is no more tears to beautify/This is my last goodbye”

Closure is a rather sad song actually, but the way I’ve interpreted it ends on a bright spot of hope. The first related fic I’ve already posted/talked about, the second would be around the time of A Simple Plan. The third is somewhere in the gap between Belgrade and Birthright/Firewall. I’ve placed Closure at the approximate time of the fourth fic. I actually just moved it while writing this, because I realized this makes more sense after Darker Matter and with the Fall of [Redacted]. I’ve chosen to interpret the last line as finally deciding to stay instead of the (probably more likely given the rest of the album) darker interpretations.

After Closure is Ember, which is actually super connected to Darker Matter which is why I originally had them next to each other. The thing is, all three of these songs are connected to very specific events, the latter two of which are in direct response to the first even if there is a month or two between them. Ember is on the playlist for two reasons: the first is the line “dark matter falling from the sky” that basically required me to put it somewhere; the second is the fact that I keep mishearing the lyrics. “chthonic” is not “cuthonic” (which is not a word, but I interpreted as meaning Cthulu-like) and it’s “riches to embers” not “witches to embers.” Make of that what you will.

And finally, after almost seven Earth years, we get to The Reckoning/This is a Call/World on Fire/Louder Than Words. The Reckoning sort-of picks up where The Day the Earth Collapsed left off, spanning at least a year before going full force into the frantic five days of the other three songs.

(In blood and tears/A thousand times/We rise against/We'll always hold the line/Of reckoning)

(This is a call to action/This is a call to arms/All lives for one, together/There are no false alarms)

(World on fire with a smoking sun/Stops everything and everyone/Brace yourself for all will pay/Help is on the way)

(We have the force to fight/We have the blinding light/A war is more than heard/Coming in louder than words)

#i am dark matter; your road to ruin #dark matter playlist #to the tune of sketchy galore: meta galore #god I hope the under the cut works this is so long #its also two am i'm going to sleep it's been a long few hours #DM Playlists

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starspatter · 6 years ago

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WIP Challenge

Tagged by: @summertime-children

Tagging: @astrologista, @atsushishelteredinmoonlitjasmine, @benditlikegumby, @cryptoriawebb, @ibmiller, @iceperialprincess, and @otherwise-uncolonized

Challenge: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

I'll also do what deta did and post comments + short fragments. (Be warned it'll be very long though, and most of these are actually Pokémon fics since I was a much more prolific writer when I was younger, and that was the fandom I wrote mainly for.) I also won't be including "Heroes and Thieves" on here (or any DC/superhero stuff really since I’ve essentially “done” everything I had planned for now), as *technically* it is all already completed in draft form, and I'd like to keep things a surprise for whenever I do end up posting~

Hero and Seek

“Well, we’re all together now, so let’s have some fun, all right? Don’t worry, it’s really simple. One person is the ‘demon’, and the others have to hide from him.” “Eh? A ‘demon’? But that’s scary!” Three pairs of eyes turned up to her in fear. Those eyes, which screamed and streamed the stark color of blood the first time she saw them – not just from tears, but from the ‘monster’ they believed dwelled deep within. She thought for a moment, then removed her scarf. “How about this then? Whoever’s the ‘hero’ has to find and rescue the others. It’s a very important Blindfold Brigade mission!”

I’ll start with the one Kagepro fic I did attempt at least, which I described previously here, but is basically about Ayano + the Meka Trio playing “Hide and Seek” for the first time. (I actually had it originally titled as that but just came up with this new version on the spot lol I’m so clever~) For some reason I’ve always been hesitant about reading/writing Kagefic, but I actually got a fair bit farther in this than I thought, so perhaps I should try to finish it someday... Princes and Frogs

“K-Koizumi-senpai… Um… Please go out with me!” Itsuki stared down at the tiny underclassman, watching a rose mantle spread slowly over her cheeks as she gazed back with shy, but determined hope in her bespectacled eyes. The older boy could make out his own handsome face reflected off the lens, a virtual image embellished by sparkling hearts and stars. With dim satisfaction and relief, Itsuki ensured that his bright, patient smile betrayed no hint of the weary sigh that whispered behind it.

This is an intro excerpt of the first chapter I planned to write for an ItsuHaru fic from The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, which I only ever posted the prologue for. ItsuHaru was my first obsessive OTP, and I still think about returning to this story someday (especially since I have now proven to myself I *can* finish a full chapter fic if I put my mind to it), but it’s been so long I feel like I’d need to refresh my memory of the whole series/am still holding out hope for a Season 3 to motivate me again. *shot*

Fall to Pieces

As Itsuki stared at Yuki’s vacant visage, his resentment kept building. His hands clenched, rigidly gripping the edge of the table. Somehow, it just didn’t seem fair. That she could so easily ignore the madness fate had dealt them, never reveal any signs of suffering or bitterness towards her situation, and yet always, always wear the same damn expression on her face. How could she possibly stand it? He can’t stand it. (any more)

An ItsuYuki one-shot, where Itsuki basically blows up at her from pent-up frustration over having to wear a mask all the time and his hidden feelings for Haruhi. The two start to form a connection over their respective “unrequited loves”/understanding of each other’s pain, and one thing leads to another... Like “Heroes and Thieves”, this is in fact technically “complete”, since I actually used the leftover steam from the former towards finishing at least one thing I started a long time ago - although I’m still not sure I’m totally satisfied with it/kinda want to wait to figure out what I’m doing with my other ItsuHaru fics before I publish it by itself. (Incidentally the working title comes from an Avril Lavigne song lol.)

Little White Lies

“Perhaps the best thing for the princess would have been to fall in love. But how a princess who had no gravity could fall into anything is a difficulty--perhaps the difficulty.” -George MacDonald, The Light Princess - Haruhi Suzumiya was walking on air. Itsuki could tell by the way she glided into the clubroom, sailing like a paper airplane – or a balloon with an inflated ego to match.

...Yeah that’s as far as I got with this. This was meant to be a “White Day” story, which is Japan’s “answer holiday” to Valentine’s Day, where guys reciprocate by giving gifts to the girls who gave them chocolates. I always wondered how the boys actually responded in-universe, and I imagine Itsuki secretly stressing out a lot about taking care to not upstage Kyon, but at the same time wanting to sincerely express his genuine appreciation and feelings towards Haruhi - whatever they may be. In the end, he settles on a copy of “The Light Princess” by George MacDonald, which I highly recommend reading since it reminds me so much of this pair, and in general is such a fun and snappy “tongue-in-cheek” take on the fairytale genre. Sora in Wonderland

But wait- this one was a bit different from all its brothers and sisters. For one thing, it was wearing a fancy waistcoat with pockets- and sleeves that were far too long for it. As soon as it passed by her head, it stopped and slowly turned its head around to stare directly at her with its huge circular yellow eyes. Sora stared vacantly back for a full five seconds before the information registered in her brain and she suddenly yelled, “Hey!”, and sat bolt upright. The Heartless panicked upon hearing her voice and fled at top speed across the white sands, headed towards an opening in the rocks; Sora jumped down off her perch and immediately chased after it, no longer caring about the heat. The Heartless hastily disappeared inside the cave, and Sora soon followed after, determined to catch the freaky little thing and ask it some questions, like what it was doing on the island at this time, and where on earth did it get a waistcoat.

OKAY SO I TOTALLY FORGOT THIS WAS A THING but apparently I tried to write a Kingdom Hearts parody of “Alice in Wonderland” lmao. I’ve never actually played the games (aside from half of CoM), but it was probably inspired by a crossover art my friend drew? ^^; Also Sora is a girl in this bc that’s my headcanon and I’m sticking to it. XP *shot* Note: The following fics are all Pokémon-related so I’ll just be listing them in roughly chronological order (from most recent to ancient, although they’re all pretty old at this point). Stranger

The elder slowly rose to his feet, gazing at the boy, the champion, the stranger. “In all this time, why didn’t you come back? You could have seen for yourself how she was.” Lance wanted to yell something defiant, like a child. But he wasn’t a child. Children were forgiven for their mistakes. And he didn’t want to be forgiven. The professor’s ancient hand came to rest on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s the way this town works. We don’t talk about things that happen outside our own world. Maybe it was too long ago – too late for you to understand.” Lance didn’t say anything. “At least talk to Delia. She’s been wanting to see you.” “Sorry. It’s too late.” “You’re a bastard.” “I know.”

So this looks to be among the last things I’d written before taking a long break from fanfiction circa... 2007, jeeze. Over 10 years, huh. But, I think it speaks a certain amount of maturity that it’s the piece I liked most upon rediscovering. It’s based on an idea I once had that Lance was (unknowingly) Gary Oak’s father, and he was friends/rivals with Ash’s father, who originally won the title of Champion but relinquished it so he could be with his “wife” and kid (or rather, then-pregnant teenage girlfriend). *Something* happened though (I forget what I had in mind) and he ended up dying, leaving Lance bitter and depressed so he refused to return to Pallet Town because of too many painful memories. (Though he *cough* “comforted” their other female childhood friend for one night of drunken grief before he left. ;() What I like most about it honestly is the parallels bw Lance’s relationship with Ash’s dad and their sons’, and that amidst all the angst I enjoyed portraying the earnest energy and optimism of Ketchum(?) senior (”like father like son” after all). I was definitely inspired by Mitsuki’s father in Full Moon wo Sagashite/Maes Hughes from Fullmetal Alchemist by making him a total “dork dad” who’d brag about his (illegitimate) family on national TV during the championship tournament lol.

Ihavenoidea

Either way, I get the feeling this really wasn’t what I had in mind when I made my decision to quit training. I mean that in an intuitive sort of way. Like, sometimes I feel as if I’m not meant to be here, like my life should have ended up differently someplace else. Perhaps this is just one of those weird inconsistencies I told you about. Perhaps not. Even after all that’s happened to me recently, I still can’t really be sure about it.

...No seriously, I have no idea where I was going with this. As far as I can tell it’s written from the POV of Gary Oak, whom I’ve always had a lot of... “complicated” feelings towards. It probably has something to do with another concept I’ll discuss next, although for some reason it sounds like I was going for some sort of AU? *shrug* By contrast to the above, it reads like a whiny teenager complaining about his life - which makes me cringe but is probably an accurate portrayal of who I was at the time. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ This one was actually dated a little after the previous, so my best guess is it was some kind of vent rant where I would “give up” writing/creating and “childish” ideals for a while, as I was wont to do - but I still always come back to it somehow... RainbowMolly

Molly stepped out from the car and onto the dusty road, her heart beating wildly. She could hardly believe she was actually here, of all places. The ride had been long and mind-numbing with anticipation, and now that they’d finally arrived at the destination, it all felt somewhat surreal to her. A small bear clambered out from the vehicle, joining her as she stopped to take in the rustic view that met her bright blue eyes. She smiled and picked up her Teddiursa, cuddling its warm, fuzzy body close to her own. Her gaze traveled down the road which stretched in both directions, houses lining up against its margins. She followed it with her eyes towards a hill in the distance, on top of which sat what looked like a quaint little farmhouse with a windmill, turning in the summer breeze. She breathed in the country air, catching whiff of a faint salt smell from an ocean in the distance. So this was Pallet Town.

...Why I didn’t actually name the file “Chasing Rainbows” - which was the title I had planned for this - I don’t know. This dates back to an old idea I had where I believed Molly Hale from the third Pokémon movie was secretly the true “God” of the Pokémon world - in the sense that the entire universe was an unknowing fantasy of her own creation, similar to Haruhi Suzumiya (ok fine this was totally a crossover/rip-off of the same concept so sue me OTL). In a place where children never seem to grow up and can go on grand fantastical adventures forever, Gary always struck me as an anomaly who willingly *chose* to forego such a life to pursue more “adult” interests by becoming a researcher. So I saw him as filling the role of “Kyon” - the cynical narrator who was destined to ground “God” and bring her back down to earth, but at the same time be won over by her innocence and charm and learn to appreciate “kids’ stuff” again. However, the Legendaries were actually aware of the power Molly holds, and so saw Gary as a threat to their very being - as by “waking” the dreamer and having her face reality meant erasing their kinds’ entire existence. As the “apocalypse” nearly occurred in the third film, Mew and Celebi took on human disguises (in the form of May and Max respectively) to investigate Ash, who was able to calm Molly and “save” the world by “perpetuating” the delusion (and whom Molly totally has a crush on btw *shot*). So it’s a bit of a love triangle lol, with Mew and Celebi (*cough* an alien and a time traveler, get it? *shot*) acting as mediators/interference. (Although Mew might’ve secretly shipped Gary and Molly herself. ;O)

Betrayal

And these blades, these damned scythes that attached themselves to my arms when I was born, a curse upon me since birth, though it had not been apparent up until now. They were covered with blood, the vital crimson liquid that flows through our bodies, now dripping down the steel surface in a webbed pattern, drops beginning to splatter the pure, emerald grass below. The arm felt heavy and weak as I tried to lift it, as if it did not belong to me, but that was only a wishful thought. I gazed calmly at it, inspecting the intricate designs the flow of the substance had created, as if it were an abstract piece of artwork. Tentatively, a pink tongue rolled out and caught a small droplet of it just before it fell from the sharp edge, just to convince myself that it was real. The semi-sweet, metallic taste confirmed this. I had indeed taken these men’s lives, just as I had taken hers.

So I remember this was written from the POV of a Scyther who seemingly went on a murderous rampage. I only know that I wanted to give him an “Edward Scissorhands”-like story, since the idea of having such sharp objects attached to one’s limbs so that one could never directly “touch” another without being a danger is pretty tragic. I suspect “her” was someone (a human?) he cared about but killed by accident, and after that he was only seen as a symbol of power/treated as a tool to incite fear before eventually rebelling against his “master”... Roses

“If you love someone, you should give them something that’s yours. That shows how much you care for them.” In the darkness, I pictured his smiling face, explaining to me as he wrapped a present for his girlfriend. His blue eyes were shining with a sort of spirit unfamiliar to me; I guessed, a feeling of love.

Another “dark” take on a Pokémon’s biology (I really liked writing explorations of those back then lol), this time of Roselia. The idea was that a Roselia was so in love with her trainer that she would do anything for him - including allow him to cut off her arms so he could give them to his girlfriend. I actually ended up turning it into a poem at one point:

Love is like a rose they say, And affection leads to grief they warned. For in the end love betrays, Its Beauty maimed by a poisoned thorn. You gave me pure water with a smile. Your cheerful face became my sun. I offered up my blood to you, And in return demanded none. Chop off my wrists, and tie them together. I’ll gladly bleed myself to death. In order to give you that which I hold most dear. My dear, my dear, Won’t you accept this bouquet? You take it, smiling warily. A blush creeps onto your face. And in those eyes I can see A garden of roses stretched out, Composing a wondrous place. Then you bound my hands in lace, And brought them to the girl next door. You presented them to her with grace. … My blood continued to pour.

Fanfic

She smiled at me, although something about her expression indicated something wasn't quite right. I watched as she glanced over towards the west, her gaze lingering momentarily on the setting sun. The glowing, orange sphere was slowly sinking behind the distant mountains, peaks cloaked in a pale, lavender haze illuminated by flickering beams of gold and scarlet cast across the horizon.

More accurately, I found this buried in a “catch-all” file where I had several (mostly finished) fics saved. This was meant to be from the POV of an Eevee who had just evolved - supposedly into an Espeon due to happiness and bond with her trainer, which is what both wanted. However, since it took place at sunset, she didn’t realize she had become an Umbreon instead, and her trainer ended up abandoning her for it. ;( It was a warm

Children’s shrieks and laughter echoed across the park as they flocked towards each other, and soon were chasing one another round the playground, weaving in and out between the swings as they partook in an innocent game of Tag. One child was It; she was trying desperately to catch one of her friends so that they would take over the job instead. Then it would be her turn to run away, for none of them wished to play the loathsome role of It. Or was it because they feared being tainted by the person’s touch? It must have been one of the two, for while she would struggle to reach them, catch hold of them, they would only flee, thoroughly enjoying the fact that they were vexing her. Twice she nearly caught one. Her fingertips were almost within reach of one of the other girls’ dresses, whose russet tresses were flowing wildly from the rush of movement and shining with golden highlights as the rays of the sun struck individual strands. The target shrieked and shook her head, whisking her skirt free in time to escape capture, laughing with glee at the sight of the girl left behind, miserable and alone.

Yeah I totally just went with the default beginning of the first sentence lol. I guess this comes full circle with the first Kagepro fic I mentioned (although I’m not even sure I was aware back then that the Japanese version of the game literally called “It” a “demon”, which is even more fitting). I believe this was part of a Pokémon series I was writing involving a creepy little girl and Mewtwo who would bring about the end of the world or something like that, but generally I guess I was just going for a “Catcher in the Rye” feel. *shrug* Golden Lights

The pale, rosy fingers of dawn were filtering in through the Granite Cave entrance, basking a small area near the opening in pinkish illumination. Just out of reach of its expanse sat little Mika, huddled in the gloom of the shadows, watching the light creep steadily towards her as the glowing ball of fire rose slowly towards the East. She knew about the Light that came from Outside. There were plenty other small apertures broken into the cavern walls and ceiling that allowed some thin streams of gold brilliance to trickle through. She had always done well to avoid them. The brightness was like poison to her skin. But they weren’t the Lights she’d had described to her by the old Crobat that always resided now deeper within the underground chambers, dozing now, most likely. He wouldn’t awaken until night came round, and she did not wish to rouse him and perhaps disturb him from a pleasant dream. She was very wise about things like that, being the young child that she was. Still, she would have liked to hear a story to comfort her just then.

Last one I could find, about a Sableye who, like Icarus, literally “flew too close to the sun”. In this interpretation I imagined that Sableye were creatures who could not stand sunlight at all, as it would cause their skin to burn. But Mika (pronounced like “Mica”) always dreamed of going outside to see the “Light” anyway. She was eventually tempted by Mew to leave the cavern under her angelic PROTECTion and step into the Light, who was acting as Ho-Oh’s messenger to “recruit” souls to “live eternal as an element of Ho-Oh’s Guarding Flame“, as the PROTECT faded and a “holy fire” began to spread. I guess I was going for a Biblical/”Rapture”-esque reference. (...Man I sure was obsessed with the endtimes as a kid. *shot*)

#Kagerou Project #Tateyama Ayano #Mekakushi Trio #Suzumiya Haruhi no Yuuutsu #ItsuHaru #ItsuYuki #Pokemon #Gary Oak #Molly Hale #fanfiction #starstories #astrologista #atsushishelteredinmoonlitjasmine #benditlikegumby #cryptoriawebb #ibmiller #iceperialprincess #otherwise uncolonized

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kayincolwyn · 6 years ago

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Mad World (reflection, 10/28/2018)

When I was about 19 or 20, after my parents had split up, for about six months or so and for the first and only time in my life, I was living on my own, in a rental room in this old lady’s house, in St. Johns on the outskirts of Portland, where I was working my first job at a McDonald’s, and that was when I first watched this now cult classic film called Donnie Darko, and when I got to the end of the film, sitting there alone on a bed watching a TV in some stranger’s house, and heard Gary Jules’ cover of Mad World (originally by Tears For Fears), I was so moved that I wept.

For those who haven’t seen it, Donnie Darko is the story of a somewhat outcast and antisocial high schooler (much as I was when I was in high school), played by Jake Gyllenhall, who, after an engine of a plane crashes into his house, and specifically into his room, when he is away, begins experiencing visions and other weird happenings in his life, and begins losing touch with reality as he tries to understand what is going on and what some higher power seems to want from him, all while he meets and falls in love with this girl named Gretchen. Eventually events lead up to Gretchen’s death when she is hit by a car, and then everything falls into place, and he finds himself traveling back in time, and he realizes that he was meant to be there and die on that day when the plane engine crashed into his room, which will spare Gretchen’s life at the cost of his life and the cost of them ever knowing one another. In this scene, as Mad World plays in the background, we see shots of different people throughout his town that we see throughout the film, sitting in their rooms in the middle of the night, smoking or drinking or crying or just starting blankly into the dark, people who during the day pretend to be things that they’re not or wear masks or keep secrets, all while Donnie laughs alone in his room on that fateful day, knowing that death is coming for him, but embracing it to save someone he loves who will not know who saved her or that she was even saved at all. I believe he laughs as he finds the comedy in the tragedy, the joy in the sadness, the light in the madness...

Looking back, I think I was deeply moved by this not only because of that beautiful cover of Mad World by Gary Jules, but also because this scene showcased the sadness and, yes, the madness of the world, in how we say or do things in life that don’t reflect who we really are or who we really want to be, just to survive or to get by or to fit in or for reasons that we don’t even really know ourselves, all while under the surface and behind closed doors we feel empty or alone or broken or wounded, not even really knowing how to express how we feel... and yet it also showcased the beauty in knowing that we’re all in the same boat, we’re all human, so we’re not alone in all of this, in trying to cope and figure out this thing that we call life, and the beauty in love and relationship and giving to and sacrificing for others and how that can give our lives a sense of meaning and purpose in a world that otherwise doesn’t seem to make a whole lot of sense. In this post I wanted to try and talk about this, about how maybe we can find, or at least try to find, like I believe Donnie does in the film, some kind of meaning and purpose in this world that is so full of sadness and madness, or at least that’s my aim here... There have been times in my life when I have experienced nothing but sadness and madness, whether because of stressful or painful circumstances or because of internal existential struggles, times when I have been that person crying or staring blankly in the dark, empty and alone and broken and wounded, and yet I’ve also been someone who was comforted or encouraged by others, or has been someone who has comforted and encouraged others, and someone who has found some meaning and purpose in love and relationship (even in spite of its many ups and downs) and has both received from others and given to others, and all of this lives within me simultaneously, because, as poet Walt Whitman once said, “I am large, I contain multitudes”.

I recently discovered and have become a fan of the young Norwegian musician Aurora Aksnes (and I recently purchased a ticket to a concert here in Portland next February, which I will be looking forward to), whose music is as creative as it is thoughtful, and whose personality is very unique and refreshing, as she has a pure and childlike spirit while also having an intelligence and wisdom beyond her years. Many of her fans consider her something of a real life Luna Lovegood, who is one of the more popular characters from the Harry Potter universe (and who also happens to be my favorite HP character), known for her eccentricity and non-conformity as well as her wise and empathetic nature. Of course Aurora is just a human being like you or me, and no doubt with her own fair share of faults and flaws, who makes mistakes and doesn’t know everything and doesn’t have all the answers, but she has an angelic or fey-like quality about her that is wonderful and attractive. She calls her fans ‘Warriors and Weirdos’, and I think she is a combination of those herself, a warrior and a weirdo, and I believe she encourages others to embrace those qualities within themselves. When you watch interviews with Aurora she comes off as very authentic, speaking and acting in sometimes strange and funny ways, but you can tell she is entirely herself without putting on any airs, which makes her very endearing and charming and magnetic, but then much of her music, which she writes herself, is thought provoking and heartfelt, clearly written by someone who has thought and felt about life, both the darkness and the light in it, deeply. I wanted to focus on a couple of her songs, which are among my favorites of hers, one from her debut album All My Demons Greeting Me As A Friend, and the second from her new album Infections Of A Different Kind (Step 1). Through The Eyes Of A Child, a beautiful and moving song that has a lullaby-like quality to it, was Aurora’s favorite song from her debut album according to an interview from 2016, and in the interview she said this of its meaning: ‘It’s a very important song for me that’s about getting older and seeing the real world and how cruel people can be. You discover this more and more as you grow older, and it gets quite hard on your shoulders knowing all of these things. So it’s about being able to see the beauty in everything and everyone, and innocence in the world, which I miss.’ Here are the lyrics to the song: World is covered by our trails Scars we covered up with paint Watch them preach in sour lies I would rather see this world through the eyes of a child, Through the eyes of a child Darker times will come and go Times you need to see her smile And mother's hands are warm and mild I would rather feel this world through the skin of a child Through the skin of a child When a human strokes your skin That is when you let them in Let them in before they go I would rather feel alive with a childlike soul With a childlike soul Please don't leave me here I remember when I first discovered this song I listened to it on my music player while walking home from work in the middle of the night and it moved me to tears as I resonated so strongly with it. Like Aurora I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older that life is full of pain and as humans it is so easy for us to hurt or disappoint one another, and then sometimes we find ourselves longing, as impossible as it may seem, for a world where it wasn’t like that, a world where there was only joy and where we just loved one another, a simpler and kinder world where we didn’t feel any need to hide ourselves from others for fear of getting hurt or being misunderstood, or where we didn’t feel as though we were just stumbling through the dark, or where we didn’t feel like we were alone. And tonight as I was writing this I watched a live video of Aurora singing this (which you can watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ncG9zTzsisE) and when she sings that last line, ‘please don’t leave me here’, there is this look on her face afterwards that’s so real and moving and that brought me to tears, as it felt like she was putting her soul into those words, and because I have felt, ached, and prayed, those words at times myself... I’m reminded of Mad World, which I quoted above, where in the chorus it says ‘the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had’, which certainly sounds morbid, but I have to admit there is a part of me that looks forward to death, not because I hate life or because I really want to die (and please don’t take this as me being suicidal, as that’s not where I’m at, though I have been there in the past no doubt), but because, in spite of my uncertainty about life beyond this one, I hope that if there is life beyond this one that it is more like that kind of life, life through the eyes of a child, that Aurora sings about. And it’s not so much that part of me wants to die, but more that part of me wants to die to a world full of sadness and madness and instead find myself in a better one full of joy and light, if that makes any sense. But I don’t believe that we have to, or even should, wait for death to see if that might bring us into that kind of world, even if we may have hope for that, as we can also try to create that kind of world here, or at least as much as we are able. And I think that’s what people like Aurora are trying to do, and I suppose what all of us who are capable of love in this world try to do for those we love.

The next song, Infections Of A Different Kind, the title track and the final track of her new album, was, according to Aurora in a recent interview, the most personal song on her new album, which came to her in the middle of the night and was the seed that inspired her new album. I feel like this song in some way addresses that desire to create a better world (and here’s a link to the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9bdasfyaPjA). Here are the lyrics: It's a feeling growing old with time Like a restless in the leaves coming down The world is a hole and we all seem to fall Down and down And the universe is growing tall And we all are caving into dreams of this space Unfolding her arms cannot do any harm Violent contractions And if there is a God, would we even know his name? And if there is a God, I think he would shake his head And turn away So belong to us all Be God in the shape of a girl Who walks this world And I beg, I beg to be drained From the pain I have soaked myself in So I can stay Okay, and more than okay for a while For a while, for a while Infections of a different kind The world is being attacked by your pain If I am the world then why would I hurt All that is living? And if there is a God, would he then believe in us? And if there is a God, I think he can't hear all of us Belong to us all Be God in the shape of a girl Who walks this world And I beg, I beg to be drained From the pain I've soaked myself in So I can stay Okay, and more than okay for a while For a while, for a while This is the breath, this is the breath... There was a discussion on one of her Youtube videos that I was reading tonight that came out of a fan wondering if this song was questioning and even jabbing at belief in God and I can understand why some people would take it that way (though as far as I can tell Aurora seems to be a very spiritual person, if not particularly religious), but I resonated more with what another fan said: ‘For me, I would say that she is rather asking us to be reflective on what we've done for each other so far, and how much more we can do in the years to come. "I think he would shake his head" and "Would he believe in us?" are powerful statements that make us realize that the only one causing our pain and distress is ourselves. To me, she's not saying that there isn't a God, she’s saying it doesn't matter if there is, because he is not responsible for our problems that we created.’ I can agree with this for the most part, and I would add that I felt her line where she says ‘Be God in the shape of a girl who walks this world’, rather than being some blasphemous statement as some might take it, is referring to that spark of the divine in every one of us (or the image of God as it is referred to in the Bible, or the inner light as Quakers call it), including herself, and then to how we have the ability to be a kind of divine presence (where one might say that God is working through us) in one another’s lives if we choose to be. This reminds me, putting this into a more Christian context, of this quote from Catholic saint Teresa of Avila: “Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which he looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which he blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are his body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.” Now as I’ve said elsewhere I no longer consider myself Christian, at least not in a traditional sense, but I can resonate with this idea of our being a channel or conduit for the divine in one another’s lives, and I believe this is kind of what Aurora meant or was trying to say through her song, and there can be truth in this whether one believes in a God or not. Even the end where she says ‘this is the breath, this is the breath’ reminds me of the Greek word pneuma, which means both breath and spirit, so she could also be saying ‘this is the spirit, this is the spirit’. Of course I’m not really sure whether that was what Aurora was getting at here (would love to pick her brain about this song by the way), but in the context of the song I think it makes sense. I admit that I don’t feel as though I am really a channel or conduit for anything like a divine presence much of the time. It’s something I aspire to be, and maybe sometimes in spite of myself I can be that, but much of the time I feel that I fall short of that. I often find myself feeling irritated and annoyed by people, and I often feel numb and apathetic to others and their lives. I have my bad habits and negative tendencies, my faults and flaws, and I certainly don’t feel very angelic or Christlike or whatever one may call it much of the time, and if anything I often feel like something of, well, an asshole. I know there are people that love and care about me that would disagree with this feeling I have, which I appreciate, but it’s something I often feel regardless. I feel like I contribute my own share of sadness and madness to the world you could say, and though that may not be my intention, or any of our intentions really when we do that, it is what it is and there’s really no way around it save for me to try and balance that out by bringing more joy and light into the world, as I believe Aurora and many people, or maybe even most people, are trying to do. As author George Eliot (aka Mary Anne Evans) once said, ‘ What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?’ I think this is a question that we all have to wrestle with, especially in times like these where there is so much division and fear and uncertainty, where that sense of being in a world full of sadness and madness is all the more acute (or at least that’s how it feels for many of us) and it’s not an easy question when many of us, like myself, struggle just to deal with our own problems, let alone anyone else’s, but it’s a question we have to ask ourselves because we all share this world, and in large part I believe how we choose to live our lives in it, or what we choose to bring into this world, can add either to its sadness or joy, to its madness or light. In Donnie Darko, Donnie was willing to give his life to save the life of someone he loved. Aurora, like many artists out there, gives her time and energy to her music to hopefully bring some more joy and light into the world. What can I do to make the world better, to make it a simpler and kinder one? Honestly I’m still trying to figure that out.

Last weekend I spent most of the day with some of my family on my grandpa Allan’s side, including his wife Miriam, my aunt Angela, my aunt Shannon and her husband Jeff, and my cousin Andrea. My grandpa Allan passed away from cancer in March of last year, and he would have been 82 years old on October 21st, so we observed his birthday by visiting his gravesite. I remember as we gathered around his grave I felt awkward and uncertain, as I imagine all of us did to some extent, because death can’t help but leave us feeling awkward and uncertain on some level I think, and yet I know that we all felt, and feel, love for him, and we tried to, and continue to try to, honor him, being grateful for the part that he played in our lives, for the ways in which he loved us, gave to us, and brought joy and light into our lives. We went to lunch at Shari’s and I remember talking with my aunt Shannon who was sitting next to me much of the time, and I remember telling her how Allan’s story of how he found his faith resonated with me, the story of being a foster child who was often abandoned and rejected, who then had an experience where he felt that God told him that he would not abandon him or reject him as others had, and it resonated with me because it had a message that was so universal and childlike, so basic and primal, and uncomplicated by theology and doctrine, that I believe almost anyone could connect with it, that desire and longing to be unconditionally loved and accepted where you are and as you are, and that that desire and longing can be answered. Perhaps, much like Aurora, through that experience Allan learned to see through the eyes of a child. Maybe at bottom he had the faith of a child, and even if he may have built different theology and doctrine around that experience that he had over the years, that experience, and the message within it, was still somewhere at the heart of his faith, and I can resonate with that. After lunch I was at Allan’s house, and Miriam and Angie gave me some of Allan’s things that they wanted me to have, including a tie and some cufflinks and some of his rocks from his rock collection (he was a big rockhound), and I spent some time with my cousin Andrea, connecting over music (including some music by Aurora, which she liked), and I remember looking at pictures of Allan on the walls and thanking him for whatever hand he may have had in helping me to connect more with his family, and I remember telling Andrea that I felt like maybe that was his final gift to me. We didn’t really discuss politics at all throughout the day, although it is something that Allan’s family has had some conflict over from what I’ve heard as there are some in the family who are more conservative and others who are more liberal, and since the 2016 election there has been some tension among some of the family members. The only time it ever came up in any way was when Angie, who is a little more conservative herself, pointed out a letter that acknowledged Allan’s service in Korea that was signed by President Trump, and she wondered what I thought of that and if I would like a copy, and I told her that even though I don’t like Trump myself that if it’s something that is meant to honor Allan then I’m okay with it as that’s what really matters to me, and not who signs it, and I would be okay with having a copy. I think it’s safe to say, being the elephant in the room, that politics causes much of the sadness and madness in this country and in this world, and I think this is something that people on both sides of the political spectrum can agree on. But my day with Allan’s family was a reminder to me of a potential answer to much of the division and tension, the sadness and madness, in this country and this world, that being the awareness that we’re all in the same boat, that we’re all human, that we’re not alone in this, that love and relationship is what matters most of all, and a desire, and really a choice, to try and find what brings us together rather than what divides us. I may not completely agree with Allan’s family when it comes to politics or religion or when it comes to this or that, but at the end of the day we all loved and love Allan and we all miss him and hope to see him again whenever we cross the veil, and that is something that we all have in common in spite of whatever differences we may have, and while as human beings we may all be capable of bringing more sadness and madness into the world, we are all equally capable of bringing more joy and light into it as well, and into one another’s lives, just as Allan did. And just as Donnie Darko left an impact on the world after his death, I believe Allan did as well, just as he did in life, and maybe we can all do that.

A couple weeks ago I watched the Netflix series The Haunting Of Hill House, which I really enjoyed and found equally frightening and moving. The basic premise of the series is there is this family, the Crains, who move into Hill House for a few months and begin having strange experiences which lead to the mother’s suicide, and as the season progresses you find out what happened in the house from the perspectives of each of the family members in flashbacks as you also see how their experiences in the house have continued to impact them as adults, leading to different ways of coping with the trauma, and effecting their relationships with one another and with others. The two children who were impacted most by the events that took place when they were in Hill House were the two youngest children, Luke and Nell, who were twins and have a psychic twin connection. My favorite scene in the whole series was in the last episode when Nell (who is found dead in Hill House after a nervous breakdown not long after the death of her husband, presumably killing herself) reunites with her siblings in spirit and reassures all of them, forgiving them for however they let her down in life, and letting them know that she is not truly gone. When Luke, who was closest to her, tells her that he doesn’t know how to go on without her, she responds tenderly: “There’s no without. I’m not gone. I’m scattered into so many pieces, sprinkled on your life like new snow.” I remember being really moved when I heard this, thinking of Allan and others that I’ve lost in recent years. While my own beliefs about life after death may not be in line with this in a literal sense, as I believe, or hope, that a consciousness, or a soul, continues somehow after death not just in the memories of those who loved them but also in some other dimension that is beyond (if also in some way connected to) this one. But I interpret this as the impact that that person had on us (and continue to have on us even after their death), all the different ways that they loved us and gave to us, all the ways they brought joy and light into our lives, sprinkled onto our lives like new snow. And whether you may believe in a God or not, whether you may believe in life after death or not, I believe the impact you leave, the legacy you leave, matters. Even my mom, who is a self-proclaimed atheist, hopes that when she dies that she will be have made a difference in the lives of people she loved, and maybe in the world too, and that she will be remembered well. I believe she hopes, as many of us do I think, that she will leave this oftentimes sad and mad world just a little better for her being in it, that she can do her part to take away a little of the sadness and madness and bring a little more joy and light into it. While I don’t consider myself as an atheist, I can resonate with this desire and this hope, as I share it, even if I may also desire and hope for some kind of life beyond this one where I am reunited with Allan and others. In short, if in living our lives we made life a little less difficult for others than maybe we have lived life well...

It’s only a few days till Halloween, one of my favorite holidays, when children, and children at heart, dress up in costumes and go trick or treating or simply party and have fun, embracing the spooky and creepy, and in some small way answering darkness and the night and death with laughter as Donnie Darko did, bringing joy and light into it, seeing the world through the eyes of a child, and maybe being channels and conduits of something, well, holy, in what some may see as unholy, being divine sparks in the night, and I think it’s kind of wonderful. The world is kind of wonderful, and it’s kind of horrible, the world is kind of funny, and it’s kind of sad, the world is kind of beautiful, and it’s kind of mad, and I dream of a better world, a simpler and kinder one, beyond this one, but I also dream and hope to help make this world I am living in a better one if I can, even if only in some small way, and it’s hard to know how to express everything that I feel about this world, and it’s hard to take everything that I go through in it, and people are running around and I’m running around, and it can feel pretty crazy sometimes, that’s for sure. But like Donnie I will keep trying to find some kind of meaning and purpose in this world in which I live, and like Aurora I will try to hold onto my childlike soul and be open to being a channel and conduit of the divine in the world, and like Allan I’ll try to hold onto those experiences that help me to feel unconditionally loved and accepted, as I hope like him to make an impact on the lives of others, even after it is my turn to cross the veil, hopefully leaving a little more joy and light behind me in this world than sadness and madness, leaving pieces of myself sprinkled over other’s lives like new snow. And I know that this world can be very very mad indeed, but I know it can also be very very beautiful, because, like me, and like all of us, the world is large and it contains multitudes.

#mad world #donnie darko #aurora aksnes #luna lovegood #haunting of hill house #Halloween #life reflections

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