#This is shattering my soul I don’t even know if this post is comprehensible-

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Ördög a részletekben Teljes Film Magyarul — 2020 [ VIDEA]「HU」 [MOZI]2020~“Ördög a részletekben” TELJES FILM VIDEA HD (INDAVIDEO) MAGYARUL Ördög a részletekben (INDAVIDEO) Teljes Film Magrayul Filmek Online |Videa

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Runtime: 0 percek Műfaj: Thriller, Bűnügyi Csillag: Denzel Washington, Rami Malek, Jared Leto, Sofia Vassilieva, Natalie Morales Rendező: Thomas Newman, John Schwartzman, Mark Johnson, Michael Corenblith, Daniel Orlandi Deke, a burnt-out Kern County, CA deputy sheriff teams with Baxter, a crack LASD detective, to nab a serial killer. Deke’s nose for the “little things” proves eerily accurate, but his willingness to circumvent the rules embroils Baxter in a soul-shattering dilemma. Meanwhile, Deke must wrestle with a dark secret from his past.

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Its somewhat ironic that a movie about time travel can’t be reviewed properly until your future self rewatches the movie. It’s bold of Nolan to make such a thoroughly dense blockbuster. He assumes people will actually want to see ~Ördög a részletekben more than once so they can understand it properly, which some may not. This movie makes the chronology of Inception look as simplistic as tic-tac-toe. Ergo, it’s hard for me to give an accurate rating, without having seen it twice, as I’m still trying to figure out whether everything does indeed make sense. If it does, this movie is easily a 9 or 10. If it doesn’t, it’s a 6. It’s further not helped by the fact that the dialogue in the first 15 minutes of the movie is painfully hard to understand / hear. Either they were behind masks; they were practically mumbling; the sound effects were too loud; or all of the above. The exposition scenes are also waayyy too brief for something this complex — a problem also shared with Interstellar actually. (Interstellar had this minimalist exposition problem explaining Blight, where if you weren’t careful, you’d miss this one sentence / scene in the entire movie explaining that Blight was a viral bacteria: “Earth’s atmosphere is 80% nitrogen, we don’t even breathe nitrogen. Blight does, and as it thrives, our air gets less and less oxygen”). I guess it’s a Nolan quirk. Hopefully, a revision of the film audio sorts the sound mixing out. I do like the soundtrack, but it’s too loud initially. I liked all the actors. You think John Washington can’t act at first, but he can, and he grows on you as the film progresses. And Pattinson is his usual charming self. Elizabeth is a surprise treat. And so on. Its worth a watch either way. See it with subtitles if you can. And definitely don’t expect to fully understand whats going on the first time around. Its one hell of a complicated film. It will be very hard for an average viewer to gather all the information provided by this movie at the first watch. But the more you watch it, more hidden elements will come to light. And when you are able to put these hidden elements together. You will realize that this movie is just a “masterpiece” which takes the legacy of Christopher Nolan Forward If I talk about acting, Then I have to say that Robert Pattinson has really proved himself as a very good actor in these recent years. And I am sure his acting skills will increase with time. His performance is charming and very smooth. Whenever he is on the camera, he steals the focus John David Washington is also fantastic in this movie. His performance is electrifying, I hope to see more from him in the future. Other characters such as Kenneth Branagh, Elizabeth, Himesh Patel, Dimple Kapadia, Clémence Poésy have also done quite well. And I dont think there is a need to talk about Michael Caine Talking about Music, its awesome. I dont think you will miss Hans Zimmer’s score. Ludwig has done a sufficient job. There is no lack of good score in the movie Gotta love the editing and post production which has been put into this movie. I think its fair to say this Nolan film has focused more in its post production. The main problem in the movie is the sound mixing. Plot is already complex and some dialogues are very soft due to the high music score. It makes it harder to realize what is going on in the movie. Other Nolan movies had loud BGM too. But Audio and dialogues weren’t a problem My humble request to everyone is to please let the movie sink in your thoughts. Let your mind grasp all the elements of this movie. I am sure more people will find it better. Even those who think they got the plot. I can bet they are wrong. ~Ördög a részletekben is the long awaited new movie from Christopher Nolan. The movie that’s set to reboot the multiplexes post-Covid. It’s a manic, extremely loud, extremely baffling sci-fi cum spy rollercoaster that will please a lot of Nolan fan-boys but which left me with very mixed views. John David Washington (Denzel’s lad) plays “The Protagonist” — a crack-CIA field operative who is an unstoppable one-man army in the style of Hobbs or Shaw. Recruited into an even more shadowy organisation, he’s on the trail of an international arms dealer, Andrei Sator (Kenneth Branagh in full villain mode). Sator is bullying his estranged wife Kat (Elizabeth Debicki) over custody of their son (and the film unusually has a BBFC warning about “Domestic Abuse”). Our hero jets the world to try to prevent a very particular kind of Armageddon while also keeping the vulnerable and attractive Kat alive. This is cinema at its biggest and boldest. Nolan has taken a cinema ‘splurge’ gun, filled it with money, set it on rapid fire, removed the safety and let rip at the screen. Given that Nolan is famous for doing all of his ‘effects’ for real and ‘in camera’, some of what you see performed is almost unbelievable. You thought crashing a train through rush-hour traffic in “Inception” was crazy? You ain’t seen nothing yet with the airport scene! And for lovers of Chinooks (I must admit I am one and rush out of the house to see one if I hear it coming!) there is positively Chinook-p*rn on offer in the film’s ridiculously huge finale. The ‘inversion’ aspects of the story also lends itself to some fight scenes — one in particular in an airport ‘freeport’ — which are both bizarre to watch and, I imagine, technically extremely challenging to pull off. In this regard John David Washington is an acrobatic and talented stunt performer in his own right, and must have trained for months for this role. Nolan’s crew also certainly racked up their air miles pre-lockdown, since the locations range far and wide across the world. The locations encompassed Denmark, Estonia, India, Italy, Norway, the United Kingdom, and United States. Hoyte Van Hoytema’s cinematography is lush in introducing these, especially the beautiful Italian coast scenes. Although I did miss the David Arnold strings that would typically introduce these in a Bond movie: it felt like that was missing. The ‘timey-wimey’ aspects of the plot are also intriguing and very cleverly done. There are numerous points at which you think “Oh, that’s a sloppy continuity error” or “Shame the production design team missed that cracked wing mirror”. Then later in the movie, you get at least a dozen “Aha!” moments. Some of them (no spoilers) are jaw-droppingly spectacular. Perhaps the best twist is hidden in the final line of the movie. I only processed it on the way home. And so to the first of my significant gripes with ~Ördög a részletekben. The sound mix in the movie is all over the place. I’d go stronger than that… it’s truly awful (expletive deleted)! Nolan often implements Shakespeare’s trick of having characters in the play provide exposition of the plot to aid comprehension. But unfortunately, all of this exposition dialogue was largely incomprehensible. This was due to: the ear-splitting volume of the sound: 2020 movie audiences are going to be suffering from ‘~Ördög a részletekbenis’! (LOL); the dialogue is poorly mixed with the thumping music by Ludwig Göransson (Wot? No Hans Zimmer?); a large proportion of the dialogue was through masks of varying description (#covid-appropriate). Aaron Taylor-Johnson was particularly unintelligible to my ears. Overall, watching this with subtitles at a special showing might be advisable! OK, so I only have a PhD in Physics… but at times I was completely lost as to the intricacies of the plot. It made “Inception” look like “The Tiger Who Came to Tea”. There was an obvious ‘McGuffin’ in “Inception” — — (“These ‘dream levels’… how exactly are they architected??”…. “Don’t worry… they’ll never notice”. And we didn’t!) In “~Ördög a részletekben” there are McGuffins nested in McGuffins. So much of this is casually waved away as “future stuff… you’re not qualified” that it feels vaguely condescending to the audience. At one point Sator says to Kat “You don’t know what’s going on, do you?” and she shakes her head blankly. We’re right with you there luv! There are also gaps in the storyline that jar. The word “~Ördög a részletekben”? What does it mean. Is it just a password? I’m none the wiser. The manic pace of ~Ördög a részletekben and the constant din means that the movie gallops along like a series of disconnected (albeit brilliant) action set pieces. For me, it has none of the emotional heart of the Cobb’s marriage problems from “Inception” or the father/daughter separation of “Interstellar”. In fact, you barely care for anyone in the movie, perhaps with the exception of Kat. It’s a talented cast. As mentioned above, John David Washington is muscular and athletic in the role. It’s a big load for the actor to carry in such a tent-pole movie, given his only significant starring role before was in the excellent BlacKkKlansman. But he carries it off well. A worthy successor to Gerard Butler and Jason Statham for action roles in the next 10 years. This is also a great performance by Robert Pattinson, in his most high-profile film in a long time, playing the vaguely alcoholic and Carré-esque support guy. Pattinson’s Potter co-star Clemence Poésy also pops up — rather more un-glam that usual — as the scientist plot-expositor early in the movie. Nolan’s regular Michael Caine also pops up. although the 87-year old legend is starting to show his age: His speech was obviously affected at the time of filming (though nice try Mr Nolan in trying to disguise that with a mouth full of food!). But in my book, any amount of Caine in a movie is a plus. He also gets to deliver the best killer line in the film about snobbery! However, it’s Kenneth Branagh and Elizabeth Debicki that really stand out. They were both fabulous, especially when they were bouncing off each other in their marital battle royale. So, given this was my most anticipated movie of the year, it’s a bit of a curate’s egg for me. A mixture of being awe-struck at times and slightly disappointed at others. It’s a movie which needs a second watch, so I’m heading back today to give my ear drums another bashing! And this is one where I reserve the right to revisit my rating after that second watch… it’s not likely to go down… but it might go up. (For the full graphical review, check out One Mann’s Movies on t’interweb and Facebook. Thanks.) As this will be non-spoiler, I can’t say too much about the story. However, what I can is this: ~Ördög a részletekben’s story is quite dynamic in the sense that you won’t understand it till it wants you to. So, for the first half, your brain is fighting for hints and pieces to puzzle together the story. It isn’t until halfway through the movie that ~Ördög a részletekben invites you to the fantastic storytelling by Christopher Nolan. Acting is beyond phenomenal, and I’d be genuinely surprised if neither Robert Pattinson nor John David Washington doesn’t receive an Oscar nomination for best actor. It’s also hard not to mention how good Elizabeth Debicki and Aaron Johnson both are. All around, great acting, and the dialogue amps up the quality of the movie. The idea of this movie is damn fascinating, and while there are films that explore time-travelling, there’s never been anything quite like this. It has such a beautiful charm and for the most part, explains everything thoroughly. It feels so much more complex than any form of time-travelling we’ve seen, and no less could’ve been expected from Nolan. Oh my lord, the score for this film fits so perfectly. Every scene that’s meant to feel intense was amped by a hundred because of how good the score was. Let me just say though, none of them will be found iconic, but they fit the story and scenes so well. In the end, I walked out, feeling very satisfied. Nevertheless, I do have issues with the film that I cannot really express without spoiling bits of the story. There are definitely little inconsistencies that I found myself uncovering as the story progressed. However, I only had one issue that I found impacted my enjoyment. That issue was understanding some of the dialogue. No, not in the sense that the movie is too complicated, but more that it was hard to make out was being said at times. It felt like the movie required subtitles, but that probably was because, at a time in the film, there was far too much exposition. Nevertheless, I loved this film, I’ll be watching it at least two more times, and I think most of you in this group will enjoy it. I definitely suggest watching it in theatres if possible, just so you can get that excitement. (4/5) & (8.5/10) for those that care about number scores. At first, I want to ask Christopher Nolan one question, HOW THE HELL YOU DID THIS? Seriously I want to have an answer, How did he write such as this masterpiece! How did he get this complicated, fabulous and creative idea? What is going on in his mind? The story is written and directed perfectly, the narration style was absolutely unique. I have no idea how can anyone direct such as this story, that was a huge challenge, and as usual Nolan gave us a masterpiece that we’ll put beside (Memento), (Inception) and (Interstellar) The movie is so fast-paced in a good way, there was no boring moment. The chemistry between John David Washington and Robert Pattinson was great and funny and both of their performance was really good. Elizabeth Debicki performance was the best in the movie because she had the chance to show her acting abilities and she cached up that chance and showed us an A level acting. The music wasn’t unique and distinct as the music of Interstellar for example and I think this movie needed the touch of Hans Zimmer, I’m not saying that Ludwig Göransson failed but Hans Zimmer in another level. If there was something I’d say that I didn’t like it in the movie would it be that Nolan discarded any set up or characters backgrounds except Elizabeth Debicki dramatic story but it wasn’t that bad for me, I didn’t care about that, the exciting story didn’t give me the chance to focus on it. But the actual problem was the third act, it was really complicated and I got lost and I convinced myself to discard the questions that were in my head and enjoy the well-made action sequences and Elizabeth Debicki performance. I think this kind of movie that gets better with a second and third watch. I honestly don’t quite know where to begin with ~Ördög a részletekben. I love Christopher Nolan’s work but I have never seen a more complicated film (and I understood Memento). ~After nearly three hours, I came away from ~Ördög a részletekben not knowing myself, my mind reduced to nothing more than piles of ash. Was there time travel involved? Hmm, there was definitely something about time inversion. I mean, does Nolan even understand what he wrote? Look, I give credit to the director because he’s one of the few directors left who knows how to create a compelling and intelligent blockbuster. ~Ördög a részletekben is full of Nolan trademarks — the gratuitous Michael Caine cameo, a loud, really loud score, complete with stunning cinematography and slickly inventive action set-pieces. This time around however, Nolan has finally managed to ‘out-Nolan’ himself: the palindromic plot, whilst creatively ambitious, is simply far too complicated for its own good. ~Ördög a részletekben is overlong, overstuffed, pretentious and too exhausting to comprehend in its entirety — it makes Inception and Interstellar look like Peppa Pig by comparison. I’m aware of the technical wizardry and creative mastery in this film and lord knows I’ll have to watch this again. For those who want a puzzle, ~Ördög a részletekben at least provides a unique cinematic experience. But to actually enjoy solving it Nolan wants you to work very very hard

#Ördög a részletekben #magyarul #teljes film

[rueitae]

Frostbite

[Pidge is a renowned super villain. Lance is a hero in training. During their latest encounter, Lance pushes his powers to their limit and Pidge has some soul searching to do.]

A gift for @mbirdarts as she has graciously allowed me to dip my fingers into her details for this AU after I sent many pestering questions asked about it.

You can find the concept art here, here, here, and here.

The outfit inspiration is from @artylovebug here which was in turn inspired by @plancelance initial AU idea here.

This is now fic 2/4 I want to do for plance hero/villain. I am so weak for this trope and needed more. I love you all.

The fic is posted on Ao3 here, but you can read in its entirety below. About 6K words of banter, action, and hurt/comfort. ish.

~~~~~~~~~~

Pidge lets her back hit the brick wall of the alleyway, sliding down to sit on the concrete in relief. She closes her eyes and lets her heart rate slow to a rest. She has a good twenty minutes to spare before the next truck comes by this area and unloads its goods. That’s enough time to deal with her pursuer and escape.

Exhausted, but happy, she examines her latest acquisition. The disc fits perfectly in the palm of her gloved hand. The device is top of the line Galra Corp information storage. It contains hope - more hope than she’s had in a while. The style of code it holds is her father’s; the same he had passed on to her and her brother. The best case scenario is that it holds a message that the two of them were alive and well. Worse case Pidge hopes it would at least prove the Galra were up to no good.

Her lab is only a few warehouses away, further from the pier. As much as she wants to check it out right that minute - she has something more pressing to take care of.

She taps the side of her modified safety glasses and it displays the time for her in 3-D. She grins impishly. “Three… two… one…”

Lance barrels into the alleyway, tripping on Pidge’s carefully placed trap. He yelps as he is pushed into the wall, bounces over to the other end of the alley - only to ram into the dumpster with enough force to spill it, finally falling at her feet and into the pile of trash he unwittingly created.

The trap works perfectly, as Pidge expected it would. The sides of her mouth tug further up her face, thrilled at the accomplishment and seeing Lance on the wrong end of the admittedly childish prank.

To his credit, Lance lifts himself to his hands and knees quickly, glaring. “Real funny, Pidge,” he grumbles. He reaches out with a gloved hand, and judging by the look on his face, he’s just touched something extremely unpleasant. “Urgh...this is going to take forever to clean this off my uniform.”

“I told you not to follow me,” Pidge says, her smile stretching as far as her muscles will allow. Meeting Lance in costume is always a fun treat but today she can’t linger. She needs to examine the disc and can’t do so as Katie. The university computers aren’t compatible, and she doesn’t have the time to make them so, especially not when she has one ready to go in her lab. “At the same time, I’m also glad you did. I wouldn’t have gotten to try my new traps otherwise.”

Lance blinks, eyebrows rising. “Wait - traps?” His tone matches his increasing comprehension. “As in more than one?”

Pidge taps her orange glasses once more and pulls up the command she’s looking for, never taking her eyes off of the rookie hero. “This is the Warflater,” she explains. “I made it just for you.”

Lance scrambles to his feet. “Oh no,” he warns - summoning shards of ice into the palm of his hand. Frost forms up to his wrist in response to the use of his powers. “Not doing that. The last time you made something for me I ended up in the sewer.”

Necessary, Pidge thinks. If she hadn’t dumped him in the sewers a few months back he’d have been caught in crossfire. She bites her lip. Maybe she’ll tell him one day, but until he stops believing the Galra Corporation was a benevolent entity, it’s better this way.

He already knows too much for her liking.

“Pidge, come on,” Lance continues. His determined expression is replaced with one of genuine concern. “Give me the disc so I can give it back to Galra Corp. I promise we’ll find some non-villainous way to get your family back. I’ll even let you go. Please.”

“You? Let me go?” Pidge asks, pointing to herself. Her eyebrows rise in amusement. “I know where you live. I don’t know what kind of superhero decides to not have a secret identity, but you walked right into this one. You are not in a position to be making any demands.”

“Yes I am!” he responds indignantly. He points his ice shards at the ready. “I have - AH!”

The five power nozzles set up across the alley spit scalding water directly at Lance, who continues to yelp and flail in the intersection of the streams. Pidge looks on casually, unconcerned. Lance is one of a handful of people in the city who can come out of this unharmed. His ice core will keep his body temperature regulated so that he won’t get burned. The water will only be disorienting.

She still hates the fact that he can’t ever get sunburn. Some things in life just aren’t fair.

“Okay, that’s it!” Lance sputters, barely yelling words out in the bombardment. “No more mister nice- “ There, this was the moment of realization she had been waiting for. “Pidge! Why are my feet stuck?!”

Pidge slides the disc back into her pouch. A few taps on her glasses and the timer is set for the water to turn off. “New sticky web formula. Thanks for helping me test the waterproofing, Lance. See you next heist!” With Lance successfully off her tail, she turns to walk away.

“Pidge! Pidge turn this thing off!”

“Chill, Lance,” she jokes, pausing briefly in her escape. “It’ll be over in a few minutes and I’ll send Tesla to unstick you later.”

At this point Lance is shielding his face with his arms, which help his words come out more clearly but don’t help his movements at all. “Do NOT send that stupid little robot, it's just going to electrocute me again!”

“Awww, that’s mean, Lance,” Pidge teases. “Tesla really likes you. Don’t hurt her feelings.”

“It’s a robot! It doesn’t have feelings!”

Pidge chuckles to herself, smirking. “That’s what you think. See ya later, hero boy!” she calls out, relishing in the whimsical feeling of the moment.

Only to have it shatter by a laser whizzing just past her face, rooting her to the spot in shock.

It hits one of the hoses, causing a leak with a concentrated and powerful beam. Pidge turns around in horror. Blocking the other end of the alleyway are Galra security agents. She can tell from a glance they are not hired from the hero agency, but rather trained in-house specifically for Galra Corp.

They cock the guns and the largest one comes forward. Pidge’s breath catches as she recognizes Haxus, the most high ranking member of Galra Corp she’s ever seen on the streets. “Hand over the disc, thief.”

Pidge instinctively rests a hand on the pouch that contains the disc and takes a step back. There is no negotiating here. She can’t give it back to them. Even if she does, they’ll kill her or take her away like they had her father and brother.

Fighting back remains her only option.

“I’ll never give up!” She yells back, rage and determination overflowing from her very being. The traps for this alley may be sprung, but the grunts are far enough back that maybe…

Tapping her glasses once more, she enters the command code for the pier. Just off shore, the waters begin to stir

“Stop her!” Haxus snaps at his two subordinates.

Pidge jumps behind the dumpster, kneeling in case she needs to move again at a moments notice. She concentrates on her work despite the barrage of fire, stealing a look whenever she can to see if they are coming.

The Galra Corp flunkies scream as the scalding deluge from the remaining four hoses turn from Lance to them. Pidge grins in triumph as the force pushes them back off of the pier into the whirlpool she’d set into motion with her first action.

“Pidge - what was that?”

Lance is soaked, and clearly not pleased - looking utterly pathetic as he stands still thanks to the webbing all over his boots. His homemade hero costume sags with water seeping out of his pockets.

To Pidge’s flustered horror, it outlines each and every inch of his build. She forgets the situation at hand as her mind freezes as much as his powers.

He crosses his arms, his eyebrows raised. “I’m the wet one, but you look like the fish.” He smirks, as if a lightbulb has gone off in his head. “You like what you see? Not that I blame you,” he finishes smugly.

Pidge becomes acutely aware of the intense warmth has invaded her cheeks. “You look like soggy bologna,” she sputters lamely

Lance bristles indignantly. “I do not!”

Feeling sufficiently redeemed, her confidence returns with Lance once again becoming the flustered one and not her.

His body of all things?! This was worse than she first thought.

It isn’t even the main thing she likes about him. If they were at the university, maybe she could pull it off as a legitimate crush. Lance likes Katie, of that Pidge is nearly positive. Hunk’s questioning gazes and the way he remembers her class schedule, buys her ice cream, or recalls the name of her favorite robot - something she told him only very briefly in passing - is enough for her to get the message.

The only reason she hasn’t done anything about it is due to her commitments as Pidge. She refuses to believe her father and brother are dead, and rather are being held by Galra Corp against their will. She needs to rescue them, no matter what it takes.

Even if she has to break her own heart in the process. Because if she’s honest, she likes him too.

As Pidge, she can at least hang out with him like this and that was a small consolation. Her smart remarks were returned, and she can pretend it isn’t flirting.

She can also enjoy the soft looks he will probably give to Katie later tomorrow after she spends tonight pouring over the information on the disc.

Pidge opens her mouth to enjoy one last quip before leaving him.

The reverie turns out to be her downfall.

“Pidge, look out!”

She only has a split second to notice Lance’s alarmed face before she tumbles across the ground, unable to move her arms and legs. Once she stops, Pidge finds herself bound by a weighted net. Its purple glow gives it away as Galra Corp.

But she’s taken care of Haxus.

Pidge worms herself around to catch a glimpse of her attacker and forgets to breathe.

The massive form of Sendak blocks the opposite exit. The man answers only to Zarkon himself. If he’s here, the information in the disc must be valuable indeed.

Lance stutters as he takes in the scene, settling on addressing Sendak first. “I had it handled!”

You idiot, Pidge thought. Sendak has a nasty reputation and is not above harming heroes. Lance has to know that. Pidge prays he does. If not, he’s in just as much danger as she is.

“My apologies,” Sendak replies coolly. His smile was is not kind. “I had an opportunity, I thought I’d best take it to capture the thief as quickly as possible.”

Lance huffs and crosses his arms. “Thanks for the help, I guess.”

Pidge uses their conversation as time to escape. The net runs on quintessence, as all Galra Corp products do. She feels around for the power source, familiar enough with the tech to disable it with her eyes closed - or hands behind her back in this case.

“You’re the newcomer with ice powers, aren’t you boy?” Sendak flexes his left arm; a weaponized prosthetic.

“I’ve been doing this for almost a whole year,” Lance defends. “I’m not exactly new to this.”

Sendak draws back his clawed arm, and aims at the hero’s feet.

Pidge isn’t sure what comes over her, because screaming “Don’t you touch him!” and drawing Sendak’s attention away from Lance and onto her, deterring her escape attempt, is precisely what she did not need to do.

“Lance, no!” she still screamed his name in horror when Sendak doesn’t stop. Lance braces himself, wide eyed.

He is fine.

Sendak holds the torn pieces of Pidge’s sticky web in his mechanical claws. “She squeals for you more than for herself. I find that fascinating.”

Free, Lance seems to get the hint that he and Sendak are not actually on the same side. “Oh, um, thanks?” he says, taking an unsure step back.

Pidge holds her breath as Sendak does not answer right away. “Mr. Zarkon appreciates your services, but it is no longer needed. I will take charge of the thief’s punishment.”

Desperate, Pidge makes her break for it, rolling as fast as she can manage towards the water before Sendak can make his way towards her. Breath is taken out of her lungs as she is slammed face first into brick. She tries to plant her feet back the ground, but Sendak’s arm holds her dangling against the wall.

“H-hey, I don’t think she’s going anywhere. No need to do anything drastic,” Lance says.

“When dealing with thieves, it is best to add some finality to the approach,” Sendak squeezes and Pidge groans in terror, pain nearing unbearable. “You may report to the hero division that the felon 04032073 is taken care of.”

“Wait, hold it. This is not what I signed up for,” Lance says assertively. “Pidge may be a criminal, but she doesn’t deserve whatever you’re going to do to her.”

“This is a Galra Corp matter,” Sendak interrupts. “Do not make me report you to your supervisor.”

“Shiro would agree with me,” Lance says, standing his metaphorical ground. His voice brims with a confidence Pidge wishes she shares. She knows that Sendak is going to take his annoyance out on Lance before killing her. She closes her eyes in earnest. There is only one way they are getting out of here, and that’s if she uses her powers.

Pidge has been careful about them, never using them since she assumed her alter-ego. With only a quarter of the population born with superpowers, her plants would make her far too identifiable to Katie Holt.

No choice now.

“Then you leave me no choice.” Sendak drops Pidge and she lands on the concrete, breaking her concentration. She looks on in horror as Lance has summoned his own powers to face Sendak. Maybe in the past she might have been flattered that someone outside of her own family would show that much anger and determination for her life. She did not want it to be Lance. Not with Zarkon’s right hand man powering up his gun and pointing it at him.

An explosion of cold stops any other action.

Pidge turns away as sub zero temperatures blast against her body. Once calm, she turns to survey the scene. The cold has made her entrapment brittle, breaking apart without any effort.

Sendak towers above her, frozen stiff, icicles fraying off of him everywhere. He has taken the brunt of Lance’s attack, unintentionally shielding her.

She carefully side-steps the Galra man to look at the rest of the scene. She throws caution to the wind when she sees Lance on the ground, unmoving.

“Lance!” Pidge rushes over to him in concern, sliding onto the ice without a thought that it could break her ankle if she wasn’t careful. Immediately tapping her glasses, she scans his vitals. His heartbeat barely exists.

Pidge finds it a little easier to breathe. Like her own powers had physical consequences, so did his. Still, seeing him like this sends shivers up her spine. Lance is animated and talkative, not silent and still.

Even if this were natural for him, Pidge is sure it isn’t healthy in the long run. She needs to get him to her lab. The same lab where she has prepared for this eventuality, and hates herself for it.

She cares about him too much for her own good.

“I can’t believe you went and did that - you don’t even know its me,” she confesses quietly.

She places a hand over his frost covered body. Even with gloves the ice burn is nearly too much and she backs off momentarily. Pidge steels herself. He saved her. It’s her turn to save him.

~~~~

A few blocks away from the scene of the fight, the upper lefthand corner screen of Pidge’s lens flashes green in sync with the control panel on the side of a warehouse. A task that would have normally taken her seconds seems an eternity with shaky hands. A door opens at her feet and a gated platform rises to fill the space.

She drags Lance onto it, her hands numb after carrying him from the alleyway. Pidge is positive she will have to treat herself for frostbite too.

“Idiot,” Pidge whispers harshly, dropping to her knees once the elevator is safely carrying them underground. Tears stain her eyes and sobs hitch in her throat. “You’re a quiznaking idiot.”

Lance doesn’t respond and Pidge instead focuses on what she can do. She holds onto him tightly, despite the cold screaming at her to let go, trying to transfer her own body heat to his.

The elevator comes to a stuttering stop at the entrance to the underground laboratory. The gate pops down automatically, creating a cagey ramp for the last few inches to the concrete ground.

The lab itself is open, with no walls between the tiny living space or the various experiments that lay in wait on a wide assortment of tables. Miraculously, a tree takes up much of the space, roots making the concrete floor uneven and trunk sitting majestically in the middle. Pidge has her computer set up adjacent to it. From atop one of the monitors, a tiny robot putters down from it’s charging perch.

“Tesla, get the anti-grav table,” Pidge orders, voice still a bit hoarse. “I need to move Lance.”

The small, green robot beeps; the markings under its eyes glowing a cool white in acknowledgment of the order.

Pidge doesn’t have time to waste, her next command comes in quick succession. “Computer, reroute the water from trap number 14 to the sink. Fill the basin.”

Tesla nudges the anti-gravity table towards the ground near Lance. Although not Pidge’s original intent for it, she needs to use it as a gurney. In the background, a faucet opens on the computer’s command and water begins to pour into an antique wash bin - one of many that were long abandoned when the manufacturer moved out of the warehouse above decades ago.

She manually maneuvers the table under Lance, moving his body onto it in short spurts; first a shoulder, then a leg, then midsection - repeat until he’s secure. Pidge is able to lift the table and its weight to her own waist height, she then pushes it forwards towards the water.

“Hang in there, Lance,” she mutters.

Pidge soaks her own hands in the hot water first, feeling relief. Then she takes a cloth, dunks it, and places it on Lance’s forehead without wringing it out.

The basin is too small to immerse him, which is what he really needs. Their respective college apartments are too far away, though, and he needs immediate warmth. She dunks a larger towel into the water and places it along his chest.

She pulls her knitted hat firmly on his head, letting her long hair go free.

Out of towels, now she waits. Pidge hates waiting.

She bites her lip in thought as she examines him from head to toe. His clothes will need to come off once they thaw. Just the thought of it made her blush, but she knows they are doing more harm than good for him right now.

In the meantime, she has to make do. She tugs on his boots, getting them off after some physical effort and throws them to the side. Pidge repeats the process with his socks. All she has left is a thick blanket that she hopes to keep dry for Lance once he recovers enough.

So she wraps her arms around his feet tight, soles up against her chest, using her own body heat as much as she can. Pidge nearly lets go just from the sheer cold, but forces herself to hold on.

“I’m not going to let you down,” she promises, eyes squeezed shut in determination. “I don’t know if you can hear this, but you mean a lot to me - both versions of me.” Pidge opens her eyes mid-reverie and blinks, having spoken herself into a conundrum. “Well, I mean, I’m not two different people, I’m just pretending to be. Pidge is just a nickname my brother gave me. You can call me either one, I don’t care.”

No signs of moment from Lance. The silence from him begins to unnerve her. His vibrant personality is one of his bright spots.

“Don’t think this means I’m going to take it easy on you,” she continues, breaking off that particular train of thought. “I still have to find my family. I can’t let Galra Corp catch onto me more than they already have. I’m just one faceless bad guy in a city full of them.”

No response. Tears well up in her eyes, her heart turning as numb as her hands. “Please wake up. You weren’t supposed to do this for me.”

There is no change in Lance’s condition. Pidge growls. This is taking too long, and it isn’t enough. Pidge anticipated Lance overusing his powers, but berated herself in not preparing for this magnitude.

Lance needs to be in a bathtub. Pidge doesn’t have one.

Angry at herself, Pidge forces herself to watch the ice crystals that methodically form on her arms. They are pretty, in an objective way. She just hates that she hadn’t known the extents of Lance’s ice powers. When they’d first met, he hadn’t even been capable of handling them properly, let alone create a blast large enough to suffer this type of consequence.

She had been so wrapped up in searching for her missing family, she had forgotten to pay attention to her friends’ progress.

And supposedly cares.

Lance is the only one who knows why Pidge really stole from Galra Corp. Even if they stood off against each other time and time again, he never failed to at least try and be on her side in any way he could considering their positions - like today. A gesture she usually rejects.

Up until now.

“...Dad always said his coworkers were like family. You’ve tried to have my back.” Pidge smiles warmly. “It’s about time I had yours, and trusted you to have mine.”

Pidge removes her gloves and rolls up her sleeves. “It’s going to be hot tomorrow. You better appreciate this because I’ll have to wear long sleeves.”

Digging deep, she calls upon powers she hasn’t touched since childhood. Her face twitches as moss and seedlings grow from her skin; the consequences for using her own powers.

Small, but stringy vines extend from her tree. Pidge wills them to snake into the hot water and then wrap themselves around Lance and the table.

With them, she fastens something that resembles a bathtub - funny looking as it still floats in the air. Making sure there are no leaks, she gently raises his head to rest on the edge. Pidge then takes a spare hose and fills the makeshift container. Once all but Lance’s head is below water, she places the smaller cloth on his forehead.

Pidge scratches at her arms, the plantlife making her annoyedly itchy. Ugh, they are on her cheek this time too. No robotics club tomorrow for her. She’ll have to call Hunk to pick up Lance later anyway, might as well apologize for not being able to continue working on Funbot. There is still plenty of time before state competition at least.

Pidge groans. This could take days if it was anything like her plant-skin.

Back to waiting.

~~

Hours later, Lance has visibly improved.

The frost has gone from most of his body, and Pidge has been able to remove his uniform. It currently hangs to dry on old pipes, long since decommissioned and drained. Tesla works hard to blow dry it, moving in a rectangular formation while distributing jets of air from its mouth port.

Pidge refuses to remove his underwear. It’s bad enough having to stare at the rest of his naked body, watching for any sign of infection.

His eyebrows move - scrunched as if not wanting to wake up after a good nap.

“Lance? Lance!” Pidge perks up from her poor seat posture; hunching over the side of the plant tub.

His eyes open slowly, and Pidge makes sure her face is the first he sees. He closes them again and groans before opening them again. “Katie?” he asks softly.

Pidge’s brain freezes for longer than she likes. She seizes her hat from his head and hastily sticks her hair under it - away from his field of vision.

“No, just Pidge,” she tells him coolly. “Katie is your friend from school. I brought you to my lab. How much do you remember?”

Pidge feels unguarded as Lance studies her face, as if looking for something. She doesn’t know why it feels like he sees straight into her soul.

He doesn’t speak immediately, instead observing his surroundings. His mouth parts limply, eyes falling back to Pidge. “Lab? The secret one?” He asks slowly, face seeking comprehension.

Pidge nods. “That’s right. No one will bother us here.” She gives him a stern look. “But you are going have to promise not to tell anyone about it. It’s secret for a reason.”

“What did you do?”

“Huh?” Pidge says intelligently, eyebrows rising.

She notices what seems profound about Lance now. Despite being fully awake, his eyes are dim. They search her heart because they are… soulless; blank.

“Your lab,” Lance continues in near monotone, “did you run experiments on me?”

Pidge flaps her mouth in surprise before she can properly form words. “That was one joke I made months ago, Lance,” she replies earnestly. “I wouldn’t ever do anything to harm you, not for real.”

Lance does not respond, his gaze wandering around the room.

“Lance, what do you remember?” Pidge prompts again.

“Sendak. He was going to kill you,” Lance responds.

Pidge bites her lip. “Yes, he was.”

Silence from Lance again. It feels wrong.

“Is that all you remember?” Pidge asks again.

“Yes,” Lance says, now looking down at the bath he’s in.

“I have plant powers,” Pidge confesses, rolling up her sleeves to show him the small prairie that remains on her arms. “You attacked Sendak with what I’m assuming was your entire power core. Your whole body was covered in frostbite. I made this so I could get you in warm water - to help heal you. I don’t think you’ll need to see a doctor since this is your body’s natural response to your powers, but you probably shouldn’t do any hero work for a while,” she rambles. “It might even be best if you stay here. If it’s anything like my powers it’ll take days for the effects to go away - I have to wear long sleeves on the hottest day of summer thanks to you,” she grumbles.

Now that Lance is awake and on the mend she doesn’t feel too bad quipping with him. Her heart drops when he doesn’t so much as acknowledge it.

It seems his body warms quickly, but his soul takes longer to thaw.

“I think it’s time for you to get out of the water,” Pidge says. “I’ve got a warm blanket and a pretty comfortable couch waiting for you. I know it’s not quite your standard for bed, but it’s let me doze off hundreds of times.”

Lance doesn’t move.

“Lance,” she pleads, heart aching to see him like this. “Get out of the water.”

On that request he does. Pidge assists him by lowering the table and offering herself as support.

“Tesla, get the blanket please.”

The little robot zooms past the humans and flips the blanket onto itself. Pidge grins in pride at the sight. Tesla makes an excellent ghost, Pidge decided, she’s going to rock Halloween this year.

She wraps the blanket around Lance for modesty and warmth, carefully guiding him over to the well loved cushions. Once he lay stretched out, Pidge begins to feel better about the situation as a whole. His body is out of danger and she can relax.

Lance seems to sense this as well. He is sleeping again before Pidge can give Tesla a good pat of thanks for its good work.

She kneels beside him, taking a moment to brush a loose strand of hair from his face. “I meant what I said. From now on I’ll be a better friend as Pidge. No more tricks. I’ll let you help me find my family.”

Reaching over, she wraps her arms around him and rests her head to his chest. “You deserve that and more.”

Time to wait again.

~~

It was the next day before Lance stirs again.

Pidge has spent the hours pouring over the disc she recovered from Galra Corp. It did turn out to be her father’s code. Pidge is convinced there is a message in here for her. She sits in her old office chair, glasses glinting off the computer screen as her own program ran the code through, looking for any familiar patterns.

A thud and a screech of “What the heck?!” reminds her of her guest.

She twirls herself around to face him, relieved to see him up. “Good morning, Lance. Sleep well?” she says cordially.

Lance does not take it that way.

“Pidge? Where - where are we?” he whispers in panic. Pidge can’t help but grin at the sight of a fully recovered Lance flustered and out of sorts.

“My lab,” she answers, intertwining her fingers together. “I told you that yesterday, but you obviously don’t remember waking up.”

Lance gapes, panic growing on his face. “Your - your lab? As in your secret villainous lair?”

Pidge frowns, annoyed. “It’s my lab, and it’s secret, which means you cannot tell anyone about it - including Hunk.”

“I can’t promise that!” Lance exclaims. “Hunk finds out everything eventually. He’s my best friend!”

“He’s also insufferably nosy, which is exactly why he can’t know. Got it?”

Lance nods three times in quick succession, clearly nervous. He gulps. “You’re not going to do any weird experiments on me are you?”

“What is with you thinking I would do something like that?” Pidge wheezes, strained that this of all things is what he’s concerned about.

“Oh I don’t know,” Lance glares, “maybe it’s all the traps I’m lucky enough to test for you. All I ask,” he says much more calmly, holding his hands aloft in surrender and causing the blanket fall to the ground, “is that you do not harm my face.”

Pidge stares incredulously. “You are an idiot.”

“I am not!” Lance says, offended. He pauses before he can begin his rant and make the mistake of looking down. He screams and wraps the blanket hastily around himself again. “What happened to my suit?!”

“It’s drying over there,” Pidge points over to where Tesla is ironing out wrinkles with its laser eyes. “Although I don’t know why you even need it if you don’t bother to hide your identity.”

“A hero has a suit because it’s what heroes do! And I’m a professional!” He pauses, confusion flickering across his face. “Why do I not have it on? Who-?” Lance stops and a light seemed to go off in his brain. He turns a deep shade of red. “Holy crow - you undressed me?”

“I had to,” Pidge says, finally standing. She let the banter and teasing melt away in return for concern. “I don’t know how much you actually remember, but you saved my life by overusing your powers. I had to treat you for frostbite literally everywhere.” She sighs. “You slept for nearly 24 hours.”

Lance falls silent. He stares at her, just as when he first woke, but this time with a mix of concern and admiration.

“I did huh?” His laugh is hollow. “My first major job and I attack a Galra Corp executive, and save a thief. What a hero I am.” He then smiles genuinely. “But I’m glad it was you, Pidge. Sendak was out of line and you’re just trying to find your family.”

Pidge returns his smile, warmth in her heart. “Thank you Lance, for everything.”

“I guess we’re even then.” He scratches his head. “So my ice powers make me freeze up completely huh?”

“That’s right,” Pidge confirms, scientist mode kicked into gear. She whirls around in her chair and brings up Lances stats on her largest monitor. “This is your biorhythm through the last 20 hours,” she explains as Lance stands behind her chair. “As you can see from your heart rate, you were basically in hibernation. The applications to your powers expands two fold if you can use this for infiltration missions.” She grins smugly. “The bad guys won’t pay attention to you if they think you’re dead.”

“I’m a hero Pidge, not a spy,” Lance insists dryly.

“It’s your information,” she shrugs and turns to face him. Pidge sighs. She needs to tell him. “Look, Lance, your heart rate wasn’t the only thing that was affected. Your emotional response was as well. You woke up once and you were not yourself.”

Lance frowns. “I don’t remember anything after Sendak turned to face me.”

“...probably for the better.” Pidge is relieved; her identity is still a secret. She has no intention of telling him that if she can help it.

Lance’s eyes widen. “Oh no. If I’ve been asleep I missed my study date with Katie! She’s not going to be happy.”

Pidge smiles knowingly. “I’m sure she’ll understand. The hero business is pretty unpredictable.” She frowns, running his words through her head once more. “Wait - date?” Her heart beats wildly. “You like this girl, don’t you?” she finishes quietly.

“I might.” He glares, but his blush is unmistakable. “I just - I don’t want to look like too much of a goof. She’s too important. So don’t you dare bring her into this,” he rolls his wrist looking for the proper word, “thing we have going on.”

Pidge makes care to bite the inside of her lip to resist reacting to that particular statement. “Actually, Lance, soon we may not have to fight anymore,” she deflects instead. “This disc I got from Galra Corp hopefully contains a message from my dad, or proof Zarkon is up to no good. If I can get the hero association to buy it, then we’ll finally be on the same side.”

His face is oddly neutral for this type of good news, but he eventually smiles. ��It’ll be kind of weird. None of the other bad guys ever monologue or exchange witty banter. I’ll miss it.

“But,” he continues, a sad smile on his face, “it’ll be worth it to find out what happened to your family. I really do hope you find something.”

“Thanks,” Pidge tells him sincerely. She turns back to her computer, not trusting herself to say anything else.

The silence is uncomfortable. Lance breaks it.

“So, I should probably be getting back to my apartment.”

“I already called your friend Hunk to pick you up at the pier in a few hours. He’s taking you out for pizza, you need the calories so eat whatever you want. I need to stay here and study the information on the disc,” Pidge says automatically, busy typing away.

“...How do you know Hunk’s number?”

Pidge stops typing. “I hacked the phone company,” she lies quickly. “I called with Katie’s number to keep this place hidden. Remember,” she swivels around to glare seriously at him, “do not tell Hunk how to get here or I will continue using you to test my traps.”

Lance brightens, his smile wide. “Really? Just like that? No more traps? And you won’t involve Katie in any of your schemes?” he finishes suspiciously.

Pidge nods, equaling his smile. “No more traps. Consider us a tentative working relationship.” No promises on Katie.

“I swear I won’t say a word then,” Lance promises. He pauses and sniffs at the air. “Is that Green Lion body wash?”

Pidge groans. At this rate her double life is definitely doomed to unravel.

#plance #pidgance #flirtyrobot #au: superthief #voltron legendary defender #vld fanfic #rueitae #my writing

[antiquery]

the other day kit, camille and i were having a discussion on twitter about the bacchae that eventually swung toward nietzsche by way of lovecraft, and long story short cam dug up this essay, which is someone’s university of stockholm ma thesis about the randolph carter stories (which, huge mood, but i digress), and it got me thinking about narrative necessity. let me explain.

so the problem karlson is addressing is, namely, why carter, uniquely of lovecraft’s protagonists, brushes up against the strange and otherworldly time and time again, and still gets a happy ending. that doesn’t happen in any other stories, for obvious reasons— for lovecraft everything outside the human purview is soul-shattering, so incomprehensible that even partial knowledge of it breaks us. why? because, if it is so fundamentally not meant for us, it is a marker of our own cosmic insignificance (excellent essay on this in the context of plato and classical philosophy). it is a proof of the fact that we are less epicurean atoms and void and more one single atom, infinitesimally small, and therefore our existence is meaningless. to understand, really and truly, such meaninglessness— that’s what it means to go mad. that’s what madness is, a comprehension of the truth. (it’s all very modernist; last year i wrote a mock conference paper on the correlations between lovecraft’s external, universal nihilism and joseph conrad’s internal, civilizational treatment of the same philosophy.)

ergo, even to brush up against the supernatural is to gain a fragment of that understanding, however small, and correspondingly to skirt along the edge of madness. lovecraft’s protagonists who experience this kind of thing, who come into contact with the other, they’re never the same— either they die horrible deaths, or they go entirely insane, or they live out the rest of their lives haunted, like marlow in heart of darkness or lockwood in wuthering heights, eternally set apart from the rest of humanity by the burden of the truth they know as a result of their experiences. 

but the thing is— excluding “through the gates of the silver key” on account of its status as work originated by another author & therefore closer to the derleth contributions than anything else (e. hoffman price you can publish your dream cycle fanfiction on ao3 like the rest of us schmucks)— randolph carter, lovecraft’s most frequently recurring human character, the person in the mythos who has brushes with the supernatural more frequently than anyone else— is the exception to that rule. he doesn’t go mad, he’s not killed, he— well, it wouldn’t be quite correct to say he isn’t set apart from the rest of society, but it isn’t in that specific, quintessentially gothic way. the worst that ultimately happens to him is that he has to suffer through a couple decades of ennui, and that’s due to his removal from contact with the supernatural, rather than the inverse. and! not only does he not suffer from his contact with the outside in the way every single one of lovecraft’s other protagonists does, he actively benefits from it! the dreamlands are a profoundly beautiful and wondrous place, an escape from the dull mundanity of the waking world; the silver key proves the ultimate solution to his ennui, though it produces the sort of time distortion lovecraft will later consider as a source of horror in stories like “the shadow out of time.” ruthanna emrys, in her write-up of the story for tor’s lovecraft reread series, calls the story (and, by extension, carter’s arc as a whole) “the flip side of cosmic horror,” and she’s right. here, the scales of fear and wonder tip to the latter side in a way they do precious few times in lovecraft; here, we see the supernatural as a source of awe and enlightenment, as an almost voltairean embrace of the vastness of the cosmos not as a thing to be feared, but as a thing to wonder at, and even be joyful of. 

(it’s a very enlightenment idea, this sense of the illumination of the infinite, but that’s a subject for another time.)

the question we have to ask, then, is why? why does it make sense for there to be an exception to the rule of truth-as-madness that permeates lovecraft’s work; why, in a universe that everyone characterizes— that lovecraft himself characterizes— as vast and cold and despairingly empty, soul-crushingly apathetic; why there, of all places, do we find this astronomically improbable happy ending? why should randolph carter get to become king of a dream-city, why should he get to wonder wholeheartedly at a cosmos that we’ve been told over and over again should instill fear and dread? (a secondary question: why him specifically?) why? where did the formula go wrong? what are we missing?

to be entirely honest, i don’t know. i don’t think most critics do, and the thesis that inspired this post doesn’t really seem sure of itself either. it’s not, i don’t think, about carter himself; as much as i like him (and i do like him a great deal) lovecraft was never very good with characters and carter is a protagonist off of the same basic template of most of his peers who find themselves with far worse fates: white male upper-class new-englander gentleman-scholar of financial means, a predilection for the occult, and a profound lack of genre savvy. (this type of protagonist didn’t originate with lovecraft, to be sure, but it’s the one he wrote almost exclusively.) in horror fiction, these are a dime-a-dozen. master dreamer though he is, it’s nothing— nothing specific about carter the character, that demands a happy ending. no, i think it’s something else, and i find myself coming back over and over again to this terry pratchett quote, from a slip of the keyboard:

Why does the third of the three brothers, who shares his food with the old woman in the wood, go on to become king of the country? Why does James Bond manage to disarm the nuclear bomb a few seconds before it goes off rather than, as it were, a few seconds afterwards? Because a universe where that did not happen would be a dark and hostile place. Let there be goblin hordes, let there be terrible environmental threats, let there be giant mutated slugs if you really must, but let there also be hope. It may be a grim, thin hope, an Arthurian sword at sunset, but let us know that we do not live in vain.

lovecraft’s universe is— it is dark and hostile, immensely so. it is a place of ultimate chaos and despair and horror, wherein we are insignificant and meaningless. it is all of those things, profoundly. it is the most unlikely place in the world in which to find a happy ending. 

but we do.

we do, because we have to. we do, because we are human, and we very simply cannot abide stories in which there is no hope. stories in which we are told that we do live in vain, stories in which all is black and cold, form and void with no reason, no light— we recoil from those, because we do, to quote terry again, need fantasy to be human. even in the worst timeline! even when we live vulnerable to creatures that would like nothing more than to eat us for lunch, even when we spend our tiny ephemeral lives doing and experiencing awful things— even if humans are mean creatures in both senses of the word,, even when we cannot see the light, even then. even then, it has to be there— if not in the world around us, then in our stories. a universe where randolph carter died at the end of dream quest of unknown kadath or spent the rest of his life stuck in the waking world would be as deeply, unconscionably cruel as the universe in which james bond didn’t manage to disarm the nuclear bomb, or where the third brother wandered in the wood forever.

in my mind, the takeaway from the carter stories (one of many takeaways, really) is this: in the darkest of universes, there is that tiny glimmer of light. it is a grim, thin hope, but it is there, because it has to be. no matter what lovecraft says, no matter what the rule of his cosmos, it is there. and because it is there, we are not bound to horror— we can have a happy ending, we can push past fear and into wonder, we can find that arthurian sword in the most dim and unlikely of places, glowing faintly in the light of the sunset. 

we ought to remember that.

#bookshelf blogging #o do not ask what is it #mine #uh. sorta #got extremely emotional and regrettably poetic at the end there but hey what can you do #the human necessity of storytelling is a Very Charged Topic 4 me as are the carter stories in themselves

[jesusintheleast]

1978 Rolling Stones Interview

6/17/2019

Spring 2019, Mick Jagger recovering from heart surgery.

Advised to Postpone Upcoming 2019 American and Canadian Tour

Pray for Mick, Keith, Ronnie, Charlie, and Bill.

Can you believe it? The Rolling Stones are still very newsworthy.

Mick recently posted: "Thank you everyone for all your messages of support. I’m feeling much better now and on the mend—and also a huge thank you to all the hospital staff for doing a superb job."

And then in another post: “I’m so sorry to all our fans in America & Canada with tickets. I really hate letting you down like this. I’m devastated for having to postpone the tour but I will be working very hard to be back on stage as soon as I can. Once again, huge apologies to everyone.”

So with the Rolling Stones still very much in the news and even having a tour planned and then postponed due to Jagger’s heart surgery, I was prompted to reprint an old “rock-star” witness that Cornerstone Magazine ran back in the summer of 1978. It was my friend, Jon Trott, and myself who had the opportunity to meet up with a few of the Stones.

As you will see, we weren’t shy about sharing our faith. That was the way it was back then. We were “Jesus freaks” on a mission. And if you had asked me if I thought that the Stones could possibly be touring (or even alive!) in 2019, I would have answered, “No way.”

But then again, who am I? What do I know about the future of anyone? Not much, not anything really.

All I know is that I believe in II Peter 3:9: “The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise (of a day of judgment coming), as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.”

And so with those thoughts in mind, I invite you to listen in on the brief encounters we had with a few of the Stones back in 1978.

All of a sudden Jagger pulls up in his limo. He and his girlfriend get out and survey the whole setup. Everyone stands back in awe. He’s here.

A series of people casually file by making their adoration vocal. Seeing Jagger alone for a second, I walk up to him and blurt out, “Hey, Mick, you know Jesus loves you?” as I hand him a couple of tracts. He takes the literature and with a quick negative glance, takes off behind one of the trailers.

It was July 8, and we were backstage at the Rolling Stones concert at Soldier Field here in Chicago. After getting a quick witness to Mick Jagger, we continued to share with a few people who were a part of the Stones’ entourage. Amidst the trailers, small tents, the barbecuing, and the drinking, we had quite an eventful day. We knew the Lord had gotten us in, but was there going to be another chance to witness? All we could do was pray.

That night, the Stones showed up at a small club where Muddy Waters was playing, and we got another chance to talk to them. When the show was all over, they were whisked into a small dressing room in the back of the club. “Now you’ve got ten minutes,” the manager told us. “There’s a lot of people back there, and I’ve got to keep them moving in and out. So when I tell you you gotta go, you gotta go, OK?” “OK.”

So when we entered the dressing room, we knew didn’t have much time. We quickly took in the scene, which revealed a shoulder-to-shoulder crowd of about thirty in a small, dank, dressing room. Nearly everyone had a drink in their hand and the atmosphere was bubbling. Jagger was standing off a ways from Muddy Waters and the other Stones. I boldly approached him. “Hey, Mick, remember me? I was the guy who handed you a couple of tracts down at the concert today. What do you think?”

“I get them all the time. I don’t really get into tracts,” he said in his thick English accent.

“Well, anyway, do you know the Lord really loves you? He really cares about you?” While I continued telling him of God’s love for him, he started mumbling under his breath, “You can’t be telling me this. You can’t be telling me this. You can’t be telling me this.” All of a sudden, he looked up from his drink and threateningly blurted in a stage whisper, “Hey, aren’t you afraid the Lord will put a curse on you?” “It’s only the devil that’s going to put a curse on anyone,“ I replied. He sarcastically shrugged and said, “Oh.”

He didn’t want to continue our conversation, but it was crowded and while he was trying to get away, I leaned over and said, “You know something? The devil has a real hold on you, but the Lord can set you free!” He stopped for a second. He was stunned and acted like he couldn’t believe his ears. I added, “We really love you Mick, and we’ll be praying for you.” He slowly continued to mingle in the crowd and soon left.

Ronnie Wood was busy whooping it up. “Hey, you know the Lord really loves you?” I said. “Oh, yeah, I know He loves us all,” he said, very drunkenly. “Don’t you know that He wants us to live for Him? “ “Hey, man, I ain’t got time for that stuff. My life’s too messed up already without giving it to the Lord; it’s bad enough. That’ll make it worse. Besides, I’m having too much fun right now. I can’t think about that.”

“But, Ron, don’t you see that if we can’t get along with the Lord down here, we’re never going to get along with Him for eternity?” “Yeah, I see that,” he said hesitantly. “But hey, man, really, the Lord’s too heavy for me, man.” “Well, we really love you, Ronnie, do you know that?” “I know you do. I really do. And I have to admit, you really make me think. You kind of set me back about three steps.” “But really, don’t you ever get tired of this whole party scene?” He thought for a second, “No!” “Hey, by the way, where’s Bill Wyman, anyway?” “Oh, he’s back in the hotel, all whacked out.” “You know, Jesus does love you, and we’re all praying for you and we care about you.” He seemed to lighten up a little and said, “Hey, man, that’s cool, thanks a lot.”

Then I looked over at Keith Richards. He looked really out of it. He looked like he was on what they call a “mean drunk,” so I hesitated to go over to him. Charlie Watts was sitting off to the side, all by himself, so I went up to him.

“Hey, you know Jesus really loves you, Charlie. He wants you to be living for Him.” “Yeah, I know, “ he said casually. “Have you ever really received Him into your heart?” Thinking . . . ”I don’t know.” “Well, if you don’t know, then you haven’t.” “Hey, man, I’m doing alright.” “Yeah, but are you serving God? Is he number one in your life?” “No, I can’t say that.” “Well then, what is? Do you live for yourself?” “No.” “Other people then. You live for other people, right?” “That’s right.” “Well, that’s still wrong, you see, because the Lord wants to be number one. You see, it says in the Bible that you have to love the Lord your God with your heart, soul, mind, and body. Then other people come second.” “Hey, man “ Charlie said. “You know if Billy Preston was here, he ‘d be preaching to you.” “Yeah, I know. I talked with Billy Preston recently. Do you know he has a Gospel album out?” “Yeah.” I told him that we really did care about him and that we’d be praying for him. Finally, I turned back to see what Keith Richards was doing. He looked like he had lightened up a touch. I went over and butted into his conversation in a nice way. “Hey Keith, you know the Lord loves you.” He was stumbling around.

“Yeah, yeah, I know He cares about me,” he said cynically. “I just hope He cares about me enough to keep me out of prison.” (Richards was facing some criminal drug charges in Canada at the time.) “Well, you know something, Keith, even if you have to go to prison, He wants to be right there. He wants to help you out.” He seemed to turn bitter. “Hey, man, I don’t even want to talk about this anyway.” I told him Jesus really did care about him. I just wanted him to know that he had a bunch of people here in Chicago that would be praying for him. We witnessed to a few more people and then we felt it was time to split. As we were leaving, an old man, who was the chauffeur for the Stones, was having a rough time walking down the stairs. He was really blasted. So I offered to help him down. He refused. Then I said, “Jesus loves you.” He suddenly became enraged and, in a fury, hurled his glass down the stairs, where it shattered.

Looking back on the whole day, I couldn’t help but remember what it used to be like for me. I used to be an old Stones freak. My favorite band. I would have thought this was really great, to be backstage with the Stones, to go to a nightclub where they were at, and then get a chance to talk with them. That would have been heavy. But all during the day, I just couldn’t help feeling pity and sorrow. Even that afternoon, while they were playing, with sitting backstage, it seemed like the Lord was speaking to me, “Do you know that these guys could be dead in a week?” And then I thought of Lynyrd Skynard, Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin.

Above all, I felt He showed me that these guys are really scared, and I’m sure that they have a lot of late nights when they curse the day that they were born. And when they sing, “I can’t get no satisfaction” ( ironically, it was their last song of the concert), I’m sure they mean it a lot more now than they did back when it was first released. What’s more, it seemed to me that these guys had lived their lives to the hilt for the devil. They went all out. And this is how we believers need to be living for the Lord. We need to be living all out. Let’s pray for the Stones. You never know what’s going on down in their hearts.

End of 1978 interview.

And now that we know that the Stones are still “rolling” can we still find it in our hearts to keep on praying for them? And so, that is what I’m asking you to do. Because remember what the Lord has said—that he’s not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. In fact the verse before this one tells us that God’s timing is not like our “timing” in our mind's comprehension. In fact, “With the Lord, a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.“ (II Peter 3:8b) So even though the Stones have been going for more than 50 years and say they want to keep on going, it’s really just a drop in the ocean of time. You just never know what might happen. And maybe we’ll never know if anything has ever happened in their relationship to God or not. Our lot is to pray for God’s mercy towards these folks. After all, he sure did show us a lot of mercy and grace, right? And we’re no more special than they are So this could be “The Last time” that the Stones and everyone living like they do (or wish they could) hear this message. Why? Because none of us know how much time we have left. And “Time” is definitely not on their side”… especially at their ages. And God says to us all: “In the time of my favor I heard you, and in the day of salvation I helped you.” I tell you, now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day of salvation.” (II Cor.6:2)

Thanks for stopping by.

Chris

#rolling stone #interview #2019 #chicago #christianblog

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 53 – Battle and Blight

‘Damn it. Damn it. Damn it...!’

Rael furiously grit his teeth, his eyes trembling, as he watched how the smoky trace of a small missile was slowly dissipating.

The fact that the missile was undoubtedly ejected towards the exact coordinates of the KSA headquarters fanned his fear.

He knew he must destroy the machine Yuhyung just activated.

He could not dare fire himself after the missile; the machine was still whirring under Yuhyung’s hand, and he did not want to be too hopeful and turn blind on the chances that the machine could shoot second or third or more of its missiles.

‘So he wasn’t after me.’

Technically, Deneb was after him, and he was willing to stage a battle right here, right now.

However, he did not want to simply eliminate Rael; he was going to make sure Rael will not be able to thwart Yuhyung’s plan, as proven by his poised stance as he stood between Rael and Yuhyung.

“That should be good enough to practically uproot the entire building, right?”

Asked Deneb, his head cocked a little towards the human.

“You’re correct, sir. And the area within the vicinity will be affected as well.”

“Good. Very good. I can’t make an accomplishment unless there’s something for me to accomplish. I’ll check things out as soon as I’m done here.”

That was when Rael at last released his shaky voice, and Deneb’s eyes directed themselves back onto the Kertia’s face as he was snickering.

“Are you saying you will use the innocent people here for your personal ambition? These people have already suffered on multiple basis, losing their homes and beloved without even knowing why. Why would you shove them into yet another pain? Just... Just why would you do this? Just how much of a big accomplishment do you wish for? Is it worthy enough to push others into forced sacrifice for?!”

“...Now I did not see this coming. You’re actually standing in favor of humans, when you used to be the most hardcore human-hater among our kind.”

Deneb’s eyebrows nearly touched his hairline, as if he were genuinely caught off guard by Rael’s speech, making Rael’s mouth automatically shut.

“Not to mention how you refuse to abort your courtesy, which I find even more surprising. I was expecting you to drop your formality, if not outright curse at me. I didn’t see this coming at all – you playing a head of a clan despite the situation.”

Playing a head of a clan?

Rael was so very inclined to bark at him, to demand if he has any idea what he goes through every single day, when at least for that very moment he was mortified to be dubbed with a title that Deneb also possesses.

Still, the Kertia managed to exercise every last bit of his patience to hold onto his remarks, upon which Deneb made a sinister smile.

“Or is this how you complain how much pressure and obsession you hold for your position? Is that why you are feigning all that elegance and poise and grace, when I wouldn’t be surprised to see Sir Gechutel or our lord to jab me with the most profane of all language? Yes, that must be it, seeing how you still look like... That.”

And what about my looks?

His anger was short-lived, however, and Rael’s hand slid across his face to touch on the bountiful lock of hair draped across a side of his head.

It was true that even after Deneb’s invitation, during which he screamed at Seira before he could stop himself, Rael had not relieved his hair of its new style, for a reason he could not fathom.

He knew he could not blame his tight schedule; it would have taken him mere 5 seconds before bed or during dress-up.

And of course, he told himself a lie when he thought that he did not know why.

It was one of his desperate endeavors to become a head of a clan that will make his father and brother proud – no, a head of a clan just like his brother. Hence he stylized himself in imitation of Razark.

Deneb nodded, seemingly having seen through this.

“So you’re feeling immense pressure for what you have at hand. Why don’t you take this opportunity to just die and hand over the title of the octaclan to me?”

Deneb blurted out, his manner so mundane as if sharing what he had done for the day.

Nevertheless, the contents of his speech were what Rael had not once imagined, and his mind that was very close to being scattered sharpened at once.

“You will die here. And you will not die Rael Kertia. You will die as a gruesomely shameless sinner, brought to justice by my hands.”

Rael’s mouth fell open beneath his mask, his eyes rolling at what Deneb was muttering.

“You lost your war against the patriarchs of Kertia and decided to bring Union into your vengeance upon Lukedonia. And I, Deneb Illiness, will be the one to stop you, betting my life for the task. And so I will save the humans who very nearly lost their future without the knowledge of the cause. Thus the Kertia clan will lose all its authority and radiance, just like the traitorous clans of Lukedonia, with a vacancy available among the octaclans. And I will not miss my chance to win Seira’s heart, since she is particularly fond of humans, as well as the lord’s recognition, to ultimately take over the Loyard clan and replace Kertia’s name with Illiness. That is my dream.”

Rael did not veil his stupor; Deneb’s plan was nothing short of what the traitorous heads of clans plotted against Raizel several centuries ago.

“All the evidence and testaments are ready, partially thanks to this human here. And you must be wondering why I’m spilling all this for you. Simple – you will not make out of this place alive. Like I said, dead men tell no tales.”

“...You think I’ll just watch you doing all that?”

With his head fully comprehensive of Deneb’s scheme, Rael could feel fury tinted with responsibility boiling within.

Ironing the corners of his lips and forehead clean of twitches and wrinkles, Rael fixed his edged eyes upon Deneb.

“What you are attempting is manipulation, calumny, and murder of your kind for your twisted ambition. Have you ever given a thought about what your ancestors would feel if they are to behold what...”

“I’m telling you, there’s reason why time is not altogether powerless upon us nobles. Just look at you, once-the-greatest-trouble-of-noblekind lecturing me, rubbing in my face how you switched your allegiance from anti-human propaganda to become a human-lover, keeping yourself well-mannered even now... Which isn’t like you.”

Not like me.

The idea what had been incessantly tormenting him and ridding him of his sleep ever since his permanent return to Lukedonia mauled upon his calm as if on a cue.

Which is why he could not react on time when Deneb lunged towards him, a rare occasion for him.

“Ugh!”

Deneb’s attack, his pointed hand as a weapon, was not even close to average.

Nonetheless, Rael got to learn how distraction or underestimation can backfire as a fatal weapon.

He succeeded in avoiding the hand that was aiming dead center towards his heart, but instead his shoulder was sliced, skin underneath exposed.

Deneb was relentless with his charges and blitz, obviously not willing to let Rael take the lead of their deadly dance.

Notwithstanding, Rael’s combat experience was still alive and breathing, and he did not change his mind about finishing this battle as quickly as possible.

Which is why once again he called forth his Grandia.

And once again his soul weapon did not return his call.

Deneb made a sickening smile, in the course of his survey on the blonde noble.

“Normally I would have been less than a snort to you. But I heard from that human your soul weapon is unavailable for now.”

Rael made a humongous flinch as he evaded a series of razor-sharp strokes from Deneb’s hands, in the meantime peeking at the human researcher who was awfully peaceful in his observation.

“And I know that you want to capture me, not kill me. You wouldn’t want any of the evidence or testament I mentioned to be published posthumously.”

Deneb smirked like a child at an amusement park as he bickered.

“Given that your soul weapon is not responsive while you are not allowed to kill me, I will surely have a chance against you!”

Rael could no longer hide his dismay, his eyes captivated by Deneb throwing himself forward once more.

“Goddamn it...!”

*****

Meanwhile, at the KSA headquarter

“What the hell is going on here?!”

M-21 shrieked, trying his best to deliver his voice past the ear-splintering siren.

The men gathered at KSA director’s office were in the middle of panic, once the siren ripped its way through all floors, following the duet of a light quake and shatters of glass and concrete.

“What happened?!”

The doctor yelled in frenzy to the transmission just delivered to Taesik’s phone on the desk.

<S-sir, a mini missile just penetrated the wall of the night shift duty room, 4th floor!>

Although it was the time of the day when KSA building is mostly unoccupied, there were few people who were staying overnight for work or getting some shuteye in the said chamber, which was the most densely populated area as of now.

The party’s faces turned pale; they could already see the massacre that took place on the 4th floor.

“So... What’s the casualty?”

Taesik squeezed his voice box in inquiry; as the head of the KSA, he was painfully aware that being dumbstruck with grief was not an option for him.

<Uh... None, it seems.>

“What are you talking about? I can hear the siren as we speak.”

<I-it appears that this missile is not meant to detonate or destroy lives. It resembles a capsule, so I’m guessing it was designed to carry and spray someth... Huh?>

The four humans did not like that the agent’s speech was met with a question mark at the end; unnerved, they repeatedly crossed and exchanged looks with each other.

<W-what the...?! Sir, this missile is releasing gas...!>

Gas? What gas?

Wait a minute.

Could it be the...?

At that point they were reminded of THE gas – the one that Yuhyung used to study as a weapon against Union-affiliated modified humans.

The gas that could not be calibrated as needed in targeting their desired foes, because of which it was canceled and disposed of.

And about which its file was opened and scrutinized by its composer before his departure to Lukedonia.

Without a single word dispensed, they sprinted to the 4th floor.

They had no patience to spare for the elevator to pick them up, so they chose the stairs, which was already clouded with gas that was permeating from the 4th floor.

Taesik and the doctor led the way, their mouths and noses covered with handkerchiefs just in case, and Tao and M-21 soon found themselves at the night shift duty room, the floor hardly visible due to milky-gray smoke.

And they saw a hole with debris dropping from the corners, with beds and desks tossed away from their original positions.

“This is bad. Looks like some of the gas leaked outside on the streets.”

Tao added after poking his head beyond the hole.

“But is it just me, or this smoke kind of... Sticky?”

“I was thinking the same thing, too. That guy must have done something to...”

At then, the doctor and Taesik groaned and wobbled on their feet, and their bodies hit the floor when Tao and M-21 looked behind them.

“Sir! Doctor!”

The two RK’s kneeled to inspect them, and that was when they realized they were surrounded by at least half dozen KSA agents and employees that had lost conscious prior to their arrival.

“What are we supposed to do?”

“Uh... F-first, let’s move them somewhere safe. For now we could make use of the lab that’s...”

Slap!

When Tao reached out towards one man, his hand viciously yanked Tao’s wrist in his grip.

‘W-what in the...?!’

Tao crooked his brows, the man’s force far past moderate, firm enough to astonish a modified human like him.

And the owner of the hand slowly raised himself, his eyes gleaming dangerously, his movement reminiscent of something that people would usually see in zombie films.

The other agents and employees rose in mimicry, their eyes in synchronization as they gazed at Tao and M-21.

The two men froze in sensing how things were definitely taking the wrong turn, and soon enough their audience emitted low growls.

(next chapter)

And thus begin the battle and blight... *Dun dun dun* It surely is a challenge trying to feature separate places all at once as the highlight of this fic is unfolded, but I will do my best. Once this battle is past, the finale will be staged very soon lol. I’m almost there, and I won’t stop until I make it! :D

#korean webcomic #korean webtoon #fanfic #noblesse #frankenstein #lunark #frankensteinxlunark #lunarkxfrankenstein #wolfsbane #Mr.Wolf #AnAngelicDay

[all-about-wannaone]

2/100 Ways To Say I Love You

Pairing: Bae Jinyoung x OC (Gong Yoojung)

Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, Slice of Life

Prompt: “It reminded me of you.”

Words: 2201

A/N: Truth be told, I actually wrote 10 of these during my hiatus but I did not post any of them due to the fact that I only wrote them as a form of stress relief, but I had no time to proof read them. :( Now that my exams are over (3 days ago actually), I’m so excited to be able to write, edit and share them with all of you, Wannable or not. :) Thank you for flooding my inbox with scenario requests, written ships and just some encouraging messages. <3 You guys are truly the best and do keep looking forward to them! :) I shall stop rambling and happy reading everyone!  

The pale yellow moon hung in the night sky, with its light filtering through the trees surrounding this empty patch of grass, which was supposedly situated in the heart of Korea University. Furthermore, the moon also seemed to be nestled in a sky full of stars that winked back at me playfully.

I was never one to watch the stars, which seemed a little strange, but in a life full of glitz and glamour, it was difficult to appreciate the little things, simply because they passed by so quickly. When I was not doing anything with regards to blogging or my social life, such as attending events, I was either cooped up in the library or my dorm room studying for the upcoming examinations.

Hence, it was as if stargazing had become a breath of fresh air for me. As I observed them, I started to notice areas of the sky where the stars were birthstone blue and beautiful— all glitter in their heavenly finery. The ones far away, almost as if they were out of human comprehension, were like flashing pinpricks in a veil of darkness. They had a faint, silver tint and seemed like glittering sparks from angel fire.

It almost seemed like they were beacons of hope for the lost souls here, or so I thought, and I felt privileged to have witnessed such a phenomenon.

“It’s pretty isn’t it?”

And I turned around, only to meet the gentle gaze from my boyfriend, Bae Jinyoung. He shot me a small smile, before looking back up at the sky and said, “Aren’t you glad you came out for once? You clearly needed a breather from all that heavy biology and chemistry content. Indeed, I admire you for actually willing to study medicine, even if it was against your will.”

With that, I placed a hand behind my head, letting his words sink in, and he was right. Only God would know why I continued to stick with the study of medicine, considering that I could have done so much better in the Social Sciences. Then again, my parents owned a pharmaceutical company, and they clearly needed someone to pass the baton to when it was time. Hence, I simply had no choice but to keep up the tradition.

In fact, they would probably be disappointed if they found out about the second life that I led in the wide webisphere, lamenting and nagging endlessly about how I should spend my life doing useful things “for the benefit of the world”, they said. Given the time we spent with each other every year, there was hardly any time for us to understand one another anyway. Therefore, combined with how stubborn they were, I was not going to be surprised if I ended up disowned for things that I truly wanted to pursue.

No, I did not hate studying medicine. In fact, I did not mind it, because I had an interest in Chemistry and Biology, but there was just so much more that I wanted. I understood why I had to do this, but there were times when I wished that they could have been a little more accepting, instead of dismissing me immediately and telling me that they had no time to deal with my apparent stubbornness.

“Hey… You alright?”

And I turned around once more, only to realise that Jinyoung was way closer this time around, and our faces were merely inches away from each other. At the distance, I could not help but to feel all warm and fuzzy inside, getting a sense of comfort and feeling the tension in my shoulders and neck ease.

“W-why wouldn’t I be okay?” I stammered in response, seeing that he had probably read my mind and he sighed in response.

“I don’t know… You just seem quieter than usual today.”

I chuckled at that statement a little and said in a pretty convincing manner, “I… was just thinking about how this is my first time actually taking the time off to appreciate the things around me, especially on a rugby field that has probably become our second home. Thanks Baejin.”

He smiled at that comment bashfully and despite the dim light, it was clear enough to see that he had gotten shy too. He was rubbing his eyes a little with his free hand, and that was his way of conveying his sentiments of shyness. It was adorable, to say the least, and it definitely made one want to squeeze his adorable and soft cheeks.

We retreated back to a comfortable silence, listening to the wind as it howled over our entire being, causing the leaves in the trees to rustle. In addition, there was also the sound of crickets creaking nearby, adding on to the feeling of freedom that nature always seemed to bring.

“So…” Jinyoung asked curiously, breaking the silence, “Have you told your parents that you wanted to pursue a double degree?”

“Uhhh…”

And that was when my jar of emotions that I had been trying so hard to keep intact shattered, and I felt the bitter tears cascade down my cheek. Thankfully, the lights were dimmer than usual, and he was still looking at the stars, watching them as if his eyes twinkled along with them. Surely he would not have noticed.

“Are you… crying?”

Damn it, way to go Yoojung. You thought you could fool someone who studies Anthropology and is on his way to achieving a degree in Psychology too? What a way to think.

I sighed, chuckling a little and wiping the tears with the sleeve of my pullover while dabbing my eyes gently.

“Ha… Just when I thought I could fool a anthropologist-cum-psychologist. I guess I was wrong huh?”

I tried my best to plaster a smile on my face, but I was only reciprocated with a gaze of sadness and pity from Jinyoung, and that was when he decided to come even closer. Next, he used his strength to live me up slightly and made sure that his arms could be wrapped around me, before pulling me tighter into a warm embrace.

Yes, it was a little unromantic, but it was as if I had been protected with a blanket of warmth, shielding me from the cold reality of the world. My head was on his chest, and I could hear his steady and calm heartbeat, which definitely put me at ease for once. I took in a deep breath, but it felt as if more tears were threatening to fall at this point, and he could probably hear how hard I tried to keep myself together.

“Just let it all out.”

And so I did, for a pretty long time in fact, as I let out all the stresses and pressure that I had been carrying on my shoulders after putting in so much effort to convince my parents into letting me do what I wanted to do. At the end of the day, it was all in vain anyway, so why bother trying again?

Finally, it was as if I had managed to let most of my emotions go, drenching Jinyoung’s white shirt in the process. I apologised when I realised what I had done, of course, but he only smiled and shook his head, stroking my hair lovingly as I adjusted myself to be even closer and placed an arm on his torso.

“People usually cuddle in beds, Jung, not in the middle of a rugby field.”

I could not help but to laugh heartily at the statement (as I continued to cry the last of my tears), teasing, “Geez, who knew that this quiet master of Anthropology could have such cute and hilarious comments?”

“Aishhh… I’m not cute.” He replied and pouted, but I only gave him a kiss on the cheek, turning him once again into a beetroot.

After some time, Jinyoung broke the silence again, asking in a calm tone, “Jung, do you remember the set of succulents that I gave you?”

“Of course I do,” I scoffed, “Seonha told me of how you nearly threw it at her when you realised that I was not at home. How could I forget? I laughed till my sides hurt when I heard the story.”

He rolled his eyes and I laughed again, before he himself could no longer hold it in anymore, and the both of us ended up laughing in good spirit. My tears were already gone and I definitely felt more free after I had let go of all my emotions, even if it meant leaving Jinyoung with a translucent patch on his shoulder from my tears. Thankfully, he did not seem to mind, assuring me that the wind would take care of it.

“Anyway, why did you get me a set of succulents? I love them, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not something you give to your crush, I assume?”

“Well…” He paused, letting out an embarrassed chuckle and continued, “I g-got that for you b-b-because it reminded me of y-you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Okay, I didn’t mean for it to have that kind of association. I swear —“

“I’m just kidding, Bae, live a little. C’mon, amuse me.” I replied with a smirk and he only shook his head, thinking of the proper words to use, ensuring that it did not bring about any form of negative connotation.

“Firstly, you know how succulents and cacti survive in harsh environments with crazy temperatures such as deserts?”

“Yes genius.”

“Stop ruining the moment!” He exclaimed, trying his best to be serious, only to be reduced to a shy giggly mess.

“Like those succulents, you were a pretty tough cookie, both on the outside and the inside. You joined touch rugby, despite having no prior experience, intimidated the life out of me when I ended up at the wrong training session… In addition, you stood up against those who did not like you too much, despite you being well loved by a vast majority.”

“You stood up for me though…” I said, voice trailing off as I thought back to that one moment which I never expected a person like Jinyoung to get involved.

“I did, but what I admired about you was that you were able to put all that negativity behind and continued to pursue your interests at heart. It didn’t matter what people said, because you were going to go against the odds anyway.”

I found myself smiling little by little at Jinyoung’s words and truth be told, I had never expected those to come from someone as quiet, shy and introverted as he was. He was a man of few words, showing his love and affection through his actions rather than painstakingly trying to put together an entire monologue on how grateful he was, or how much he loved.

“Oh, and before I forget…”

“There’s more?” I asked, a little surprised that he could come up with such a long analogy for a gift of succulents. However, he was also a student from the school of the Arts and the Social Sciences, and did a short module on Philosophy. Hence, what could we not expect then?

“I’m not sure how true this is, but given the fact that cacti and succulents store water, which is also something that gives life, isn’t that you in a nutshell? You’re tough, independent, capable and yet, you are someone who, despite her prickly nature and impression, gives people life, positivity and happiness, just by your presence alone.”

“Awwww…”

Indeed, I could not help but coo as I experienced a tug of my heartstrings with his short, yet sweet words. For once, I was lost for words, and even struggled to say a word of gratitude, knowing that I would probably turn into a cloud at some point.

“T-thanks Bae. I-I really appreciate that. B-By the way, your succulents are still alive and well. They’re growing little by little, but they’re still healthy, just in case you were doubting my capabilities on taking care of such a hardy plant.”

“No, I know you would take care of it well, because underneath all that exterior is a pure and innocent girl who would not even dare to kill a fly. Indeed, I fell in love with someone who could do both; charismatic on the field, a genius in presentations and an eye for aesthetics on your blog, but just a sweet, lovable and simple girl on the inside.”

“You were a brave soul really and even Daniel warned you that I wasn’t easy. I’m surprised you kept going for it, even after knowing that I had rejected many others before you.” I replied.

He smiled at the thought and sighed, before replying and ending it off once and for all with a sweet and soft kiss on my lips.

“Perhaps they were all too scared to do so and the same went for you. Only the brave and curious would dare hug a cactus and besides, you were the girl of my dreams. Like my mother always told me— sometimes, all you have to do is muster the courage and follow your dreams.”

Request a scenario here! 

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Submit a written ship here! 

Wanna One masterlist 

#produce 101 #produce101 #broduce101 #broduce 101 #produce 101 season 2 #pd101s2 #wanna one #bae jinyoung #wanna one scenario #wanna one scenarios #wanna one imagine #wanna one imagines #wanna one au #wanna one aus #bae jinyoung scenario #bae jinyoung scenarios #bae jinyoung imagine #bae jinyoung imagines #bae jinyoung au #bae jinyoung aus #kang daniel #park jihoon #lee daehwi #kim jaehwan #ong seongwoo #ong seongwu #park woojin #lai guanlin #yoon jisung #hwang minhyun

[journeyanddream]

The Finale

The anticipated feeling of liberation did not come after the cessation of section one. I sat motionlessly staring into blank complexion, trying to make sense of the havoc that was section one. I slowly melted into the seat and the table, deprived of energy and soul while waiting for the next section to begin. It was difficult to shift my mind, the lingering thought of failure and incompetence was heavy; I didn’t do bad but nor did I do well. 

I remember I was stuffed with the urge to empty my bladder and after signalling the invigilator, I was kindly declined twice. ‘When the announcement finishes, you can go’...it wasn’t true. After the announcement, there was no time to go and section had already started. Despite having emptied my bladder only two hours prior, it was now filled again...perhaps due to a combination of stress and caffeine. What could have lasted me six to seven hours usually only lasted two hours at that moment. There was no time to think. I pressed on and let my biological functions take a backseat. 

As I flipped open the booklet and examined the quotes, I brainstormed like I always did: with purpose and with passion. Until that point, I’ve written roughly sixty essays across roughly 3 months, not impressive but not an easy task to take on. Borrowing from past experiences, I engineered the paragraphs and ideas within the ten minutes: change and ambition. Ideas poured out my heads and gave life to my hands, jotting down phrases furiously, without a pause. Twenty minutes into the task, I was already finishing up conclusion; a task that I would look back with satisfaction. Task B was less well developed compared to its counter part, but nonetheless a good piece; although better ideas and sentence structures could be incorporated to make it more authentic, interesting and stand out more. One hour lapsed so quickly, it resembled more like 20 minutes. With the end of section two, marked half point of Gamsat. I knew I could have done alot better, but given what I had I was happy with the outcome: both section one and two. 

‘Section three is where we shine’. I said to my teammates during lunch, this is by far the most extensively prepared section by me, I’ve reached out to the best mentor and had the most well developed resources at my command - all summed up in four months of work. I was read, I felt good. If anything one of these sections would get me in, it would be this. ‘Even if we don’t believe in ourselves, we gotta trust David; for his effort had made profound changes in each one of us.’ I added. The anxiety that surrounded me in previous sections flew away and was no where to be found; the power of confidence; the power of belief. Always trust the process and believe the progress; we’ve done the miles and gave our all, it is time to deliver. Much like Connor Mcgregor has said ‘I am confident in my preparation, and cocky in prediction..but I will be humble in victory or defeat.’ I guess MMA and Medicine are not that different after all. 

I sat myself comfortably in that familiar table and chair, waiting for the finale of Gamsat to unfold. After a round of routine procedures, the reading time was going to begin: we had started 2:00pm sharp (a rare scene) and was projected to finish 5:00pm on the dot. We were instructed to open the booklet and begin reading time. I flipped through the pages as usual, cherry picking the ‘easy marks’ and establishing a mental map of the where about of question. However, I knew something was different, something was wrong within the first ten pages I had viewed. The questions were out of style, different and unfamiliar to those I had practiced. There were few physical chemistry questions if at all and I could count all the organic chemistry questions with one hand - this is bad. The questions deviated from scientific knowledge dramatically, all the information was contained in the passage, the questions bordered on scientific concepts and in reality they asked you other things. I was uneasy about this change, what I thought would be an easy section soon turned to something really ugly. I wasn’t struggling. But I was doing it with 100% confidence. None of the questions required the use of ‘double swap rule’, ‘numbering arbitrarily’ or ‘tricks of acid and bases’. In fact, they were mostly reading comprehension encased in the context of science, but the question itself it hardly science. Knowing more science might have proven to be a disadvantage for that particular test. I pushed through and tried to do everything I could without jeopardizing other questions. 

The three pass technique was key to my preparation: doing all chemistry questions first, then biology and at last physics. I was able to finish get through all the chemistry and 85% of biology intermingled with some physics. When it was ‘times up’, I had attempted 90~95 questions, and guessed the remaining 10~15. The fastest I have attempted to date. When I was up to the 70/110 questions mark, my forehead was studded with sweat, my vision begun to deteriorate and a tension in the brow-line is slowly intensifying over the past 2 hours. My head begun to spin, plus the background dizziness and headache, I felt exhausted (The usual feeling of wanting to throw up，as if in the middle of motion sickness). I felt drained and my concentration begun to wane as well. I shook my head and told myself to  move on: so close to the finish line, If i give up right now It would be deleterious for all I had done prior. We have to move on, we must keep going.  As I lifted my head to check the time towards the end, there was 10~15 minutes remaining; the ‘suit guy’ sitting next to me leaned back with his arms folded and test paper closed - resting. I channeled my energy into the paper once again, planning to spend 10 minutes to do a few more questions before calling it a day and guess the remaining questions with all Cs (I do not want to make the mistake of finishing the exam and not leaving enough time to guess the left overs). 

“Times up, hold up your answer sheet!’ The announcer’s loud voice shattered the three hour silence, while marking the END of Gamsat 2018. After the announcement, myriad of sounds were heard: some exhaled deeply, others collapsed onto their table, and the rest did a combination of both. The unanimous sigh or exhale was extremely memorable. End of Gamsat also meant the end of our journey; I could finally let go of the boulder that crushed me for months. Regardless of the outcome, all the pain made that momentary liberation that much sweeter. “This is the end, I’m done’ I thought to myself. Once again I melted into the seats, mind blank and unable to think or process information - my brain had taken the beating and endured the suffering, alongside me, this is the rest it long deserved. Even as I am writing this, the end of a Gamsat journey still felt surreal. It was 5:30 pm when we were let go, candidates stormed out the hall that had housed thousands of us since 7 am this morning. Many people remained in clusters and chatted to their friends, the usual ‘post-exam talk’. I was no different. As I walked with fellow candidates, I couldn’t help but to complain about how DIFFERENT this exam was and how the entire four months of preparation did not help at all (other than fatigue training). “We could honestly spend two weeks studying and this pull off similar results”, a friend remarked. “I could have had a life, xx wasn’t in it, yy wasn’t in it..”, another mate added. At that moment, I wasn’t sure if i was satisfied, content because it is over or if I was angry about how it had turned out, faced with the prospect of yet another Gamsat - another failure. 

I am usually correct about the outcome of an exam, based purely on how I ‘felt’. Like the anatomy spot test that I walked out knowing I had absolutely aced everything - which turned out to be 96%. Or the final exam of 2406, where I walked out with confidence and happiness - a unit where I would go on to achieve 93 average mark. But this...was different. It wasn’t the ‘I know i failed’ from previous Gamsat nor the ‘I know I aced it’ confidence; It was neither, It was something in between - a mediocre score. I felt cheated - four months of preparation put in vain. I felt unsatisfied and guilty - not been able to give my A-game, and the possibility of another year of preparation. Gamsat has left a void in my life, feeling lost and unmotivated to get back to normal life; what should I do?. I spent the entire week after Gamsat in a semi-depressed, unmotivated state; wrote a rant email to David and even spoke to him on the phone while I received an emotional support therapy.

I guess no one will know for sure until the weighted (scaled) mark is released. I do not have to be the best, I have to be better than the average to beat the bell curve and come out victorious. No one will ever know for sure. But regardless of the outcome, like Jack has said “We will be better versions of ourselves”, and that is most important. The truth is, I’ve learned alot, I’ve gained tremendous insight compared to last time and I’ve indeed become better versions of myself - we have to convince ourselves, it is the learning process that is most valuable, the outcome is only a secondary reflection of the work we’ve put in. If we can’t get where we want to be, it only means we’ve not done enough, failure is not a reflection of character but effort. I will NOT give up, I will NOT be defeated, I WILL stand up and fight once again, and I WILL DO IT, surely and eventually. 

Until next time - Keep calm and GAMSAT on 

#medical #medicine #med #premed #medical school #medicalschool #medicalstudent #medicalstudents #doctor #physician #surgeon #GAMSAT #mcat #pre-med #dream #inspiration #goal #test #Exam #Journey

[i-smell-kyouten]

Little KYOUTEN rant.

[Warning: it's long af.]

For real, this will take you at least 15 minutes to read. I hope I won't be a bother if I ask you to read this. No rush.

So, here it goes. I'm going to show you the importance that is KyouTen for me and for a lot of IE's followers. Even nonshippers, I dare to say.

But first, let me tell you a few things about this blog.

I can't really remember when I created "i-smell-kyouten" (that didn't have this name at first, but has lots of transformations. One of them was "kyoucchan to tecchan to sakkabooru" and I was really proud of that url, you can't even imagine) was probably more than 5 years ago. I don't really want to go look it up right now, as I'm in need of venting about the things I've wanted to say for a long time, ever since the finale of IEGalaxy.

(Pardon my English, I've improved a lot these years but I still struggle with it, I hope it is still comprehensible.)

This blog was born for the sole purpose of publishing my works and occasionally talk about my favourite anime and fictional characters. Sometimes I spent my time making new memes (I still remember the kirino-candy one during chrono stone!era; never forget.), but all in all, I wasn't supposed to invest a lot of my time (url) on social networks.

But then KyouTen happened.

I'll be honest with y'all, I didn't fall in love with them at first. It was just an enjoyable show, with cute kids playing one of the sports I liked the most, but that was it. Then the backstory of Tsurugi happened and my wig was violently snatched.

And you know what? It looked cliche at first, but it worked.

That's the point on IE. Something can seem cliche, but it still sticks in your mind, no matter what. This happened with the first match Tsurugi plays with Raimon.

Yes, the one in which the other team threatened to break Tenma's legs. Oooh, and Tsurugi lost it there. It IS because of his brother's momentary conditions of course, but something in my mind told me that Tsurugi KNEW that Tenma didn't deserve that kind of treatment. Above all the fact that Tenma GENUINELY LOVES SOCCER, like he did when he was little. And how Yuuichi still does, even after having his legs immobilized.

First conclusion: Tsurugi actually cares for Tenma's wellbeing, even if he doesn't really know him.

The anime shows that he kind of distances himself from everything, like he knew he show a side of him he didn't have to (of course even helping Rain in win the matcj; it was all a mistake); it all brings to him to worry about Yuuichi's future.

Hence, we have Tenma following Tsurugi and ending up in the hospital where Kyousuke was going to.

(From here, the "you. Me. Bed. Now." Gif was one of the greatest things ever.)

I have really shattered memories from now on, and I'll probably miss some steps. Anyway, going forward after some matches, Yuuichi finding out about the deal Kyousuke made with Fifth Sector and big bro scolding Tsurugi, all of this brought the latter to open up more to people.

With people, we mean Matsukaze Tenma. The one who him "the path of true soccer".

(TSURUGI KYOUSUKE 2K12)

Can you believe it's already 5 years since that confession? What I do believe is that Tsurugi was soooo sincere about it, he talked with such a relaxed expression and voice that I don't know how can I fall more in love with a voice if not with this one (Oohara-san, I see you there, shout out to you my man.)

And that's where I was going. The Fire Tornado Double Drive.

I don't even need to say more. That's the hissatsu even my brother considers the gayest but most powerful ever.

(He even used it the most in Strikers. He isn't a fan of yaoi. As in, he thinks that I find every kind of friendship between boys as gay. And him saying that that hissatsu is the gayest thing he ever saw says a lot, I think.)

That hissatsu represents their efforts, blood, sweat, tears, feelings, worries; everything about that special technique represents THEM. It's their special attack. An upgrade of their beloved Gouenji's famous technique.

And the scene where they perform that new hissatsu is so SATISFYING that you can't help but watch it a thousand, infinite times because it's THAT good.

So, do you remember after the match, they win, Tenma has the trophy in his hands and talks about how Soccer must be happy right now and Kariya is a partypooper? From whom does Tenma find support for his words?

Tsurugi.

This is kind of a resume of the first season. But you can guess from here that TENMA and TSURUGI were destined to meet.

Think about a world without Tenma. Would Tsurugi still return form his old self?

No.

Then, what if Tsurugi weren't with Tenma? Would he enjoy soccer as much as he did with his presence? I seriously think not.

They complement each other.

They love each other.

No matter what kind of love, because LOVE is important in any kind of form.

But Tenma is part of Tsurugi's being, and vice versa.

Chrono Stone? Oh. Don't let me start. @linabigface has made lots of posts about the game that tells you exactly what I am talking about. I don't even need to rant about it.

Galaxy? Will sum it up in a sentence.

Tsurugi is whipped for Tenma.

Need an explanation? Fine.

Since episode one, Tsurugi can't seem to not call Tenma's name at least once per episode. I remember there is a very good video in nico that counted the times Tsurugi called Tenma and it surpassed the 50 times, if I'm not mistaken.

He's scared about Tenma when he knocks out for a moment, when he falls on the ground.

(again, oohara's job here is fantastic.)

He even separates "Guys..." with "Tenma". (The episode in which he comes to know the truth and he's watching the distance. I really don't remember what was happening actually, I'm so sorry this is the sign I'm finally getting old!)

He only smiles when there's Tenma around? TSURUGI SMILES?! Can you see the contradiction?

Do we have to talk about the last match? Please, I actually don't want to. It brings me moments in which I honestly cried for hours because I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing. But the battle was epic. And both of them be brought out their Spirits at the same time, it HAS to mean something.

Their souls are so in sync that they bring the best from each other.

The photo they take in the ending is a true blessing and I'll never forget about it. Not only Tsurugi is genuinely smiling, but both the boys lean on each other with such comfortable expressions, like THEY LOATHE THE CONTACT.

(Moments I didn't mention but have a special spot in my heart:

-Tenma discovering the Tsurugi that was traveling with them is a fake. He falls on the ground BREATHLESS (game version). Thank you Terasaki-san, for being such a skilled voice actor.

- Tenma finally meets Tsurugi again on the field, but the latter wears the opposite team's uniform. He smirks as if he's enjoying the thing. (He's just really happy to play against Tenma, like a true soccer maniac). Hence, Tenma asking himself if he did something wrong and existential crisis.

-"We've always been friends!" -Matsukaze Tenma

-Both crying out each other's names. It's not a secret that I saved that as a ringtone.)

All this ranting was useful to tell you a specific thing.

You can't forget of KyouTen so easily. Not when it was part of your childhood. When you kept on drawing, reading, writing about them everyday of your life. And never regret it.

I'm so happy that the fandom, and the KyouTen fandom specifically, is still intact. Even more, it's GROWING. Thanks to Ares, to Hino's continuous work and love for this series, we still have ways to remember of the boys, we hope to watch them one last time.

(Let's be honest, I don't think I'm the only one that, after knowing about the multiple universe that is Ares, started thinking about the cast of Go making an appearance, at least in the future.)

Back to the original topic.

KyouTen is what brought a lot of people together. Even non shippers acknowledge their relationship. Is THAT powerful, that truthful, that pure, that honest, genuine, that makes people look up to them at least one time. They make people curious about them.

I've already said this, but kyouten are SOULMATES. There's no other way to describe them.

(And they have an unofficial child. Yeah, I didn't forget about you, Kyouma.)

I think it's time to end this post. For those you have read this all through the end, thank you for being with me and I hope I've made you resurface some of the lost precious memories you had with Kyousuke and Tenma. I hope I didn't bored you and made this a good 15 minutes reading.

To make this a little interesting, and because I AM interested about your opinions, tell me what you think about KyouTen, go in depth if you want!

See you next time!

#kyouten #miharu talks #a lot #tsurugi kyousuke #matsukaze tenma #rant #VERY LONG IM SORRY #thank you for reasing #tell me what you think about it

[bookishmatt]

Cage Match 2013 Round 1: The Thing vs. The Invisible Man

(Originally posted on the since-retired Suvudu.com on March 4, 2013)

The Contestants

The Thing

Who Goes There? by John W. Campbell

Age: At least 20,000 years

Race: Shapeshifting, body-infiltrating extraterrestrial

Weapons / Artifacts: Transforms its appendages into any weapon of its choosing

Special Attack: Renders men insane with future dream vision

Advantages

Telepathic

Can completely become any living organic form that it enters

Scientific knowledge beyond human comprehension

Disadvantages

Won’t attack in the open for fear of outing itself

Self-preserving tissue can reveal true nature by reflexively recoiling from danger

Appears to be incapable of becoming any form from memory for more than an instant

Griffin, The Invisible Man

The Invisible Man, by H.G. Wells

Age: Early 30s

Race: Human

Weapons / Artifacts: Whatever he can get a hold of

Special Attack: Flying knee to the chest

Advantages

Invisible

Exceptionally strong

Doesn’t fear being naked in public

Disadvantages

Extremely short-tempered to the point of recklessness

Probably (definitely) insane

Sneezes at inopportune times

Can’t make weapons invisible

Too trusting

But that’s just one account of the events leading up to the abrupt end of Griffin’s mad reign. Though it sounds madder yet to even put it to words, the account that the majority of us have accepted as truth is the most cogent way to explain that terrifying day.

Mind you, even with nearly the entire town of Port Burdock on the hunt for – and indeed, truly believing in the existence of – an invisible man gone mad with power, we discerning folk have our limits for what we’re willing to accept. Which is to say that not everyone remembers the downfall of The Invisible Man in precisely the same way. For the sake of full disclosure, I’ve included one extra chapter for you, dear discerning reader, and ask that you please maintain an open mind for what I am about to tell you, though I too have my doubts.

Dutifully, our townsfolk barricaded their doors, locked up their windows, and nervously awaited for starvation and nature to ravish our invisible would-be tyrant. Dutifully, everyone waited and trusted their good sense to attempt to defeat Griffin, too sensible to venture from their homes and risk a confrontation.

But then, Doctor Kemp had to do a desperate thing and dispatch his housekeeper to the authorities to relay the death promise note from Griffin. What follows next is a bit of my own conjecture based off of the ramblings of one lone housekeeper driven mad with what she is convinced she saw during her attempts to meet with Colonel Adye. But as this was an extraordinary day, I shall spare no extraordinary account.

Kemp’s servant knew she was being followed – a crunch of gravel here, a breathy swear in the air there – but could no better see her assailant than the rest of us. Looking out from windows, they say, she ran in a blind terror, shooting glances behind her shoulder and trying desperately to escape the unseen.

It is somewhere here during her terrified sprint that she first claims to have seen an albatross slowly circling overhead, as if contemplating descending on her or collapsing in death. An albatross! A seabird never seen in the North Atlantic outside of an encyclopedia. Nothing can convince her that this was a hallucination or another bird of some kind, perhaps an unidentified gull, and her depiction of its flagging flapping is always consistent.

It must have been shortly after that when the servant was assaulted by Griffin, the letter intended for Colonel Adye ripped from her quaking hands, but this almost pales in eerie comparison to the terrible account she gives of the bird; the alleged albatross seemed to twitch and contort violently, its extremities morphing into impossible shapes as it struggled to stay afloat. But the impossible bird seemed to have lost interest in her after witnessing her tangle momentarily with Griffin. It vanished for a time over the rooftops.

Doubly terror-stricken by the bizarreness of two impossible things, the servant dashed madly toward her safe place, back to Doctor Kemp’s house. Alone, the bird seemed to find her vulnerable again and appeared once more overhead, but still kept its distance.

And then an invisible force plowed through her with an angry grunt, cutting a path decidedly toward Kemp’s residence. She sat on the ground a moment, terrified of going back but wanting desperately to warn Kemp. After a moment of fighting with herself, she picked herself up and ran back toward the house.

She was then hailed by a voice, a blessedly non-eerie voice whose origin was visible. She whipped herself around and found Adye in front of her. She stammered her warning of the recent encounter with The Invisible Man, and together they dashed the rest of the way to Kemp’s house.

Adye attempted to enter through the front door, and as he was pleading with the paranoid Kemp on the other side, the servant heard a shuffling nearby. On such high alert, she would have jumped out of her skin at the passing of a cat in the shadows, but she knew full well that this unseen stirring was not feline in origin. She stammered once more that she had to find a place to hide and took off toward the neighboring alley to conceal herself between discarded wooden crates.

Soon, she saw windows being smashed to pieces on the second floor by rocks the size of her head hurling through the air. Though her vision was a bit obscured, she swears to have seen clearly the labored bird thing whoosh into one of the now open windows. Possessed by the mad desire to aid her employer and see her duty through to the end, she climbed atop the crates and tried desperately to position herself in alignment with the smashed window. Through it, she could see the bird perched on the dresser, and could clearly make out a festering wound on its breast, what appeared to be the work of a bullet.

For an instant, she made eye contact with the bird, and it seemed to stare into her soul. It fluttered out of sight suddenly, managing to pull the heavy curtains closed with its movements. Still, she could make out bits of its silhouette from the light of a lantern by the door. She could make out an uncanny and convulsing mass of shapes where the bird had been.

A vase shattered amid the shocks of its convulsions, and soon she could hear Kemp rushing up the stairs, shouting to the closed door of his upstairs bedroom. “Griffin, if you’re in there, I’m not alone! You’re outnumbered!” – an empty threat, as he still hadn’t gathered the wit and nerve necessary to risk opening the front door to allow Adye into the residence.

Kemp must have burst through the door then, given the sounds and confusing shadow play that followed. He must have had a moment of bravery with his poker in hand, ready to swing wildly. He must have felt for a moment that animalistic drive to do anything to survive and flail wildly at his unseen assailant. But then, he must have been felled too quickly by the transforming bird thing to even utter a sound, because the fight was over in a flash of impossible shadows.

And yet, as the servant tells it, a completely unexpected silhouette appeared through the curtains a moment later: the sure shape of Kemp himself. Later, no one found any trace of an albatross or of anything else having been in that room during that moment in time.

You know the rest of the story. The Invisible Man was taken down by the vigilante townspeople, rendered visible once more upon his death. You know that Doctor Kemp, despite staring death in its invisible face, survived this encounter.

But what you or I don’t know and, indeed, may never know, is if the rants and ravings of Kemp’s house servant – committed to the county ward on Kemp’s own request – insisting that her employer had become some kind of thing weren’t so mad after all. But there is one thing I know with certainty: Extraordinary things don’t have to be seen to be believed

Predicted Winner: The Thing

NOTE: THIS MATCH ENDS ON WEDNESDAY, March 6th, 2013, AT 5 PM, EST

Check out the 2013 Bracket

Check all previous Cage Match 2013 posts

The Thing is a character from Who Goes There? by John W. Campbell; The Invisible Man is a character from The Invisible Man by H.G. Wells.

The Thing image is from the original book art. The Invisible Man image courtesy of Lanzie/DeviantArt.

Cage Match fans: We are looking forward to hearing your responses! If possible, please abstain from including potential spoilers about the books in your comments (and if you need spoilers to make your case, start your comments with: “SPOILER ALERT!”

Thanks!

#cage match 2013

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

About Dean’s next death (in fact... not a death at all)

I have just read this post by @tinkdw, that argues that Dean is “going to die”, in the sense of a metaphorical death, a destruction, or at least a shake, of certain core elements of Dean’s self that tie with his performance of his self. I want to add a couple considerations that I have written somewhere already but not really in depth, also I’m not sure where :P I was going to write this as an addition to the aforementioned post but I realized it was going to get long, so forgive me.

I think that if Dean dies this season - again, either an actual or a metaphorical death, where the second is more likely in my opinion for reasons I’ll explain later - it won’t be the first time (duh). So I think that if we want to understand the meaning of a possible death for Dean this season, we need to consider the meaning of Dean’s past deaths. Now, every death, semi-death, almost-death, kind-of-death Dean has experienced in the show has a meaning, or many meanings, but for now I’m going to focus on the two major, actual deaths Dean has experienced.

We’ve seen him die a lot of times in the show, but many of those times don’t really count. The deaths in Mystery Spot were not really real; the various times he and Sam visited heaven, the final one on-screen in Dark Side of the Moon, count more as visits to heaven than deaths, and the same can be said of Dean’s time in Purgatory. Yes, technically he dies to go to heaven, but the whole point was that he wasn’t going to stay there anyway. He experiences near-death situations multiple times, meeting reapers and Death in the veil, but again, he doesn’t really die.

Two are his deaths that actually count as such - the one at the end of season 3 and the one at the end of season 9. They’re different: one a ‘full’ death, where he went to hell and experienced demonhood (although only a little, so he didn’t turn into a demon at all, but he experienced what happens to a soul to make it eventually become a demon) in hell; one a ‘semi’ death, where he didn’t go anywhere but was simply revived, and experienced demonhood on earth.

His decision to sell his soul was a very complex decision, that contains a fundamental element of rebellion to John. His demon deal comes as the culmination of a season where Dean has been completely shattered by John’s last instructions to him - save Sam or kill him. Dean isn’t lying when he tells Sam, multiple times, that he feels relieved because he sees the ‘light’ at the end of the tunnel, that he’s almost happy because he doesn’t have to worry about the future since he doesn’t have it. Of course, he’s not really happy about going to hell, he’s understandably terrified, and when he finds out that hell-bound souls becomes demons, it gets even worse. But it’s not a lie that Dean sees an “out” in his premature death. By dying before Sam, by dying soon, he’s rejecting John’s plan for him.

Something of Dean Winchester irremediably died with his demon deal and his being dragged to hell, and it’s visible in the dream of his demonized self in Dream a Little Dream of Me - Dean shoots himself, he kills a part of himself. He screams his truest feelings about John to himself, and it’s something he can’t get back from. At the end, it’s the demonized self that snaps his fingers - the demon Dean wins, because going to hell, becoming a demon, it’s a rejection of what John wanted him to do, what John wanted him to be. Escaping John’s ultimate orders, check; becoming the thing John hated and feared the most, check. Hell, demonhood - they’re a rebellion against John.

His experience with the Mark of Cain is an experience of carrying the literal Darkness inside of him. In a way, carrying the Mark, being influenced by it, involuntarily carrying out the Darkness’ will of destruction, it’s basically an act of rebellion against the universe-scale equivalent of John - God. Even more: the first time he died, Dean was stopped from becoming a demon because angels were sent to rescue him on God’s orders. Dean becoming a demon is an act against God’s will in multiple ways. At the beginning of season 4, Dean is saved so that he can carry out God’s plans... and God’s plans include that he kills Sam. God’s plans align with John’s - apparently, there is no way Sam can be saved, Sam won’t be able to escape his destiny, so Dean, by saying yes to Michael, will determine his death alongside Lucifer’s. Dean is gotten out of hell to do what he so didn’t want to do, that the prospect of going to hell was kinda nice in comparison. He went to hell so that Sam could live, he gets pulled out of hell to kill Sam. He was almost okay with going to hell if that meant to avoid facing a situation where he needed to save Sam from evil, he gets pulled out to witness Sam succumbing to evil. God’s plans and John’s plans for him intersect: save Sam or kill him, where saving Sam is not an option.

And now, at the end of season 9, Dean, although involuntarily, manages to do what God had prevented him from doing the first time: becoming a demon. And becoming a demon, just as it would have been the first time, is the ultimate act of rebellion against the actual John. And not only he becomes exactly the thing John hated and feared the most, the thing that he wanted Sam to die rather than become; he also drops all the fucks he ever gave about John’s heavy legacy, spitting his truest feelings about John to Sam’s face. Just like he killed himself in the dream while admitting his feelings about John out loud, now he attempts to kill Sam while admitting his feelings about John out loud.

(Demon Dean did not intend to kill Sam originally. He just wanted to get away from Sam. He left him a note begging him to let him go, which speaks volumes. He doesn’t just leave, he feels the need to beg Sam to let him go. Of course when Sam doesn’t do that, Dean has to kill him - not because he wants Sam dead, but because he needs to stop Sam from trying not to let him go. It’s the same thing that happens in Brother’s Keeper - Death tells Dean to kill Sam because Sam will always try to get Dean back, and that would be disastrous. Similarly, demon Dean wants to kill Sam because Sam will always try to get Dean back, and demon Dean needs to be let go.)

Anyway, I digressed -

Both Dean’s deaths, the major ones, were acts of rebellion against John and God (where God is basically a large-scale equivalent of John). I think Dean’s next death - the third, and three is an important number - will be the ultimate rejection of John.

Dean’s third death, though, won’t be an actual death. There is a progression: the first one is a proper death, he goes to hell, gets buried, and actually stays dead for months. It’s a death. The second one is not really a death (Crowley himself says so), his soul does not leave his body, does not go to an afterlife realm, but stays on earth. It’s a death that is actually a transformation. The third one is bound to be not a death at all, but ���only’ a transformation.

Now let’s focus on an element: after selling his soul, Dean faces himself. In the dream in 3x10, he externalizes his feelings about John to himself, and attempts to kill himself.

After becoming a demon, Dean faces Sam. In 10x03, he externalizes his feelings about John to Sam, and attempts to kill Sam.

Now, who is he going to face next, who is he going to externalize the truth about what John was to him? Every arrow in the narrative points to Mary.

Of course it will be different than the previous times - Dean has settled his issues with the Darkness, he won’t be a demon, he won’t try to kill Mary properly speaking - but it will be some sort of metaphorical killing of Mary, just like the death will be a metaphorical death for Dean (of course, Mary might be killed and Dean might die, but the idea would still stand). Dean needs to ‘kill’ Mary’s assumptions and he needs to let parts of himself die. Of course I’m not talking about a disappearance of the parts of Dean that make his façade - which are real parts of Dean, just not exclusive and comprehensive - but the reasons those parts exist as a façade. He needs to let the John in him die, in the sense of the grasp that John’s abuse has on Dean’s construction of self.

I think I’m losing clarity as it’s getting late and I only have so much brain power, so I’m going to stop here hoping that what I’ve written makes sense. Let me know your thoughts!

#spn meta #spn spec #my spn thoughts #dean #spn

[bellarkelifestyle]

YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME

WOWOWOWOW i can’t believe it so this morning i hit 100 followers and like oh my god!! You guys are incredibly special to me and it means the world and beyond that so many of you care/think i’m funny when i go on rants and rambles and make stupid jokes and cry!!! Seriously!! I love all of you!!! I hope you all know that whenever you reblog or reply to my posts i read all of them!! Your guys’ thoughts and opinions are super important to me and i love getting to see them!! Keep sharing!!

@ my mutuals: you guys are SUPER FANTASTIC and i hope you keep being fantastic i love talking to you guys and seeing what you’re doing and thinking and making 💕💕 thanks for putting up with me

@ my convo people: I TALK AND RAMBLE SO MUCH i know i do i apologize and am super grateful for you guys love all of you ❤❤ @freckle-bellamy @commanderclarke @nowwesurvive @magic-and-timetravel @its-mrsbrightside @bel-ami-blake

as a celly and huge thank you to all of you out there i wrote up this short and sweet bellarke fic (because i know most of y'all are bellarke fam! love u all anyways tho) taken from clarke’s POV from the rescue/reunion scene in 3x02!! i really love writing and i hope that it conveys how much i appreciate all of you! hope you enjoy! and once again if you have any fic prompts/requests feel free to ask me about them!! and as always let me know what you think!! check out my other fic here

I’ll Do Anything

Clarke feels more dejected and defeated than she has in a long while. Probably since she left Camp Jaha three months ago. Roan, her kidnapper, spoke the words she was denying to herself. No one will come for her. Why would they? He was right. She left them. Abandoned them. Abandoned him… 

She pushes the image of a tall, strong, warm, and welcoming body out of her mind. No, not him. Never him. He’s the last person that would come after her. Leaving him all alone… She remembers his face when she told him she wasn’t coming in. It’s one of the many things she hates herself for. He probably hates her too. 

Enough, she tells herself, feeling worse than when she started. Think about something less painful, less guilt-inducing.  So she thinks about her imminent meeting with the Ice Queen. ‘Meeting’ being a pretty word for ‘death.’ Under different circumstances, it would be funny, that her imminent death is a more welcome thought than the people, the boy she left behind. But these circumstances are sort of horrible, so it’s not funny. Because the thought of having lost him, the person she relied on so much, is too painful to think about. It’s right up there with her murder of Finn, and the massacre at Ton DC. Staring at her lap, hair a mop covering her face, she wishes she could push it away, but her hands are bound to the pillar at her back. She doesn’t even try to squirm anymore. There’s no point, no hope. Clarke’s ears pick up the faintest rustle in the cave, but she pays it no mind. It’s probably just Roan peddling around somewhere. 

Suddenly, a face is in front of her. There’s freckles, caramel skin, soft brown eyes, a mess of curly black hair and she can’t believe her eyes. She can’t believe it, it can’t be him, but, it is. It’s him. It’s Bellamy… 

“Hey,” he barely breathes.

“Bell…” she tries to say his name, but the gag in her mouth turns it into a muffled whisper. He’s here, right here, and she’s running her eyes back and forth over his face. He’s smiling a brilliant, beautiful smile, one she rarely sees. She would be smiling too - if she could - and his hand, partially covered in an ice nation glove, brushes a strand of hair away from her face. He’s really here, touching her. She could sink into those warm, strong hands. She hadn’t let herself think about just how much she missed him in these three months until this moment. His eyes are filled with hope, and she knows hers are mirroring the same right back at him. Then, she’s struck with a sudden, terrifying thought.

Roan. 

No. No! He’ll kill him. And now, her joy is being torn at by her fear. If he gets caught, or seen; if he dies… But the thought’s cut off as she watches her worst nightmare come true. Bellamy whispers, “I’ll get you out of here,” and she wants to believe him, so badly it’s brought tears to her eyes. He gently removes her gag, his fingers moving hesitantly and delicately over her face. But it’s too late. 

Roan’s moving behind him, and she barely has the time to scream, “Look out!” before Roan moves into view. Bellamy raises his sword, but in a flash, Bellamy’s on the ground, with a sword digging into his chest and suddenly, everything about the Ice Nation flies out of her mind. There is only Bellamy. 

Bellamy… she cries in her mind. I can’t lose him. If he dies… and she can’t even finish the thought, because the terror and pain that fills her chest, it’s beyond agonizing; it’s almost crippling.

“No, please! Please don’t,” she screams, knowing that nothing in this moment - and perhaps in any moment - is more important than him, than his life, even hers. Especially hers.

I can’t lose him, he’s, he’s everything. I, I, and the possibility of the words that follow - the three words she’s only ever said once before in her life - send Clarke into a new spiral of despair. She pushes those words into the dark recesses of her mind and speaks again.

“I’ll do anything, I- I- I’ll stop fighting,” she pleads and offers, and she couldn’t care less that she’s signing her life away to the Ice Queen, that she’ll be nothing more than a sacrifice, a tribute to further the Ice Nation’s strength. Her death, her life? None of it matters, not when Bellamy is lying at her feet, a few inches away from death. Clarke feels her strength give out. There’s absolutely no reason for Roan to spare him. What good is her offer of passivity when he’s proven he can physically overpower her? 

Bellamy’s going to die today, she realizes, and it’s all my fault. I led him here, even after I left, and he still came for me. He came for me, and now I’m going to be the one who gets him killed. Bellamy… I’m so sorry… 

And all she can manage to say is “just, please don’t kill him,” her voice breaking as the last words leave her mouth. 

The only thing left to do is beg, and she’s willing, more than willing, because she wasn’t lying when she said she’d do anything. But words fail her now. The knowledge that Bellamy is about to die, that she couldn’t do it, couldn’t do enough to save him has stolen any possible words from her mouth. She’s failed him. So all she can do is stare at Roan with a broken heart and broken eyes. She refuses to look at Bellamy, on the ground helpless in front of her. 

Roan pulls his glare from Bellamy and fixes it on her. His gaze is so piercing, so accusatory. And Clarke is scared. More terrified than she’s ever been in her miserable, short life. She allows herself a small glance at Bellamy, as Roan watches her and her heart shatters all over again. Who knew you could feel so much pain over someone still breathing? She knows her lip is quivering, and that she’s only seconds away from completely breaking down. 

Roan’s gaze turns back to Bellamy. Slowly, incredibly, the sword is lifted from Bellamy’s chest. There are no comprehensive thoughts in Clarke’s mind. Just senseless relief.

She lets out a shaky breath she hadn’t known she was holding in. “Thank you,” she whispers, but Roan’s quick. He stabs Bellamy in the leg with his own knife. 

Bellamy screams. 

Her heart twists. 

Panicking, Clarke knows where he’s been hurt. Knows he likely won’t be able to stand, let alone walk for a long while. Maybe weeks. She knows that alone, he could even die. Bleed out in this cave. She frantically looks over Bellamy; she’d do anything to help him, but she’s still bound and useless. Roan stands, and the only thing he says is to Bellamy. 

“Don’t follow us,” he commands, voice as hard as his stare, before kicking Bellamy in the head, hard. 

She winces, and she feels both soul-sucking emptiness and soul-scorching agony inside. But he’s alive, she reminds herself, in an attempt to calm down. It doesn’t really work. She keeps repeating it, though, a mantra to maintain some form of sanity. 

All she can do is stare at Bellamy, unconscious in front of her, but it’s not enough, it’ll never be enough. She has so much she wants to say, to do, but before she’s ready, Roan yanks her to her feet and pulls her away from him. Pulls her away from Bellamy. The boy who came. The boy she should’ve known would always come.

#WOW THANKS YOU GUYS #I LOVE ALL YALL #follower mark #100 followers #bellarke #my fic #fan fiction #fan fic #ff #fanfiction #fanfic #bellarke fan fiction #3x02 #wanheda: pt. 2 #the reunion scene #i was missingwaterbottles #bellarkelifestyle

[duo-log]

Is It Altered?

At 15, during my summer vacation at Grandma’s place, I found a stack of film magazines. My mom never allowed me to read the film magazines saying there were better things to read. The glossy magazine covers with the beautiful people and the juicy excerpts of what was to be found inside tickled my intrigue. I took one of the magazines out and spent the rest of the afternoon gazing at the beautiful women in minute detail. Every one looked glamorous and oddly so since I didn’t remember them looking as beautiful on screen. Unlike what I read in news these days of the effect of these photoshopped images on the confidence of adolescent girls, I was thoroughly mesmerized by the beautiful pictures in the magazines and to date I am not sure if seeing the 2D perfect models has a negative impact on my psyche or not but what I do know is that those photos were not real. I am also not sure if I would have gazed with just as much admiration if the photo were real. I never saw a blown up picture of me before, and so I do not know how many faults would be magnified, but I will be honest that I would not want to see the age spots on my cheeks magnified.

I am not a proponent of photoshopped pictures, and there is nothing unsightly about aging or the marks on the skin. It is what it is. It is what makes me, me. I just wouldn’t want to see a blown up image of me with my faults magnified and so I understand the school of thought that thinks photoshopping is required to sell. Over coffee with a friend who is into photography, I asked why the photos are so heavily edited these days. I mean, even I can tell that the sky couldn’t have been that shade of azure and the clouds that prominent. Our eyes are the best lens in existence and if they cannot capture the colours in that picture, how could a camera? He said the idea of photoshopping is to remove distractions so that the viewer can focus on the subject of the photo. The purpose of a model selling a hair product is to draw attention to her luscious hair and not the magnified age lines on her forehead. So, retouchers aim to soften the distractions. Unfortunately most professionals in this business are not subtle or tasteful and have weird standards of beauty and as a result the models end up backtracking on themselves when they stumble upon the end product, say in a book rack in the airport, not knowing if the image on the magazine was of them or a bizarre Copy.

The contending school of thought is the idea of beauty these photoshopped images promote and the consequent effect on the psyche of adolescent girls and boys. The idea that one has to be size 0 to be beautiful is driving a generation of anorexic girls towards a lifetime of health issues. It is absurd to feel the confidence ebb away while being cognizant of the fact that the image is photoshopped but it happens. Pictures have a strong impact on the human mind, and it is very difficult to rationalize a thought by ignoring what we already saw. The idea of perfection promoted by the glamour industry is unfortunately bought and celebrated and hence sought after. A still photo of a person once documented never goes away. It stays and allows people to look at it and gaze and admire the beauty all the while finding the flaws, whereas one would just focus on the beauty of the person if in-person. This is, in fact, the selling point of Snapchat over Instagram; One doesn’t have to look their best or apply any filters or frames because the image on Snapchat is ephemeral and the viewers get only a glimpse, and in that momentary glimpse, they only see the person, not their magnified faults.

Photoshopping and Airbrushing is here to stay. Size 0 will have its takers, and the Glamour industry will always celebrate glamour. As a viewer, it is up to us to not let the artificial enhancements, the frills and the fancy blind us or drive our life decisions. There is no harm in wanting to lose weight or aiming to lose a size if it makes you feel better and confident. There is the harm in obsessing over it to the point of succumbing to unhealthy habits. I believe, it is up to each one of us to promote this idea of acceptance. We cannot body shame people for being too fat, too thin, or too fit and then wonder why people are obsessed with body image. It is not the way. I will leave you with this strangely fitting quote by Albert Einstein, although I don’t think he wrote this in the context of photoshopping,

“It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity.”

Read the other part of this Duolog(ue).

Some Sins Are Immune to Apology

The marvel and power of today’s technology is beyond anyone’s comprehension. On the one hand, it shatters the boundaries of possibilities in all facets of human life, and on the other, the same limitless power nurtures the seed of self-loathing till it consumes the seed-bearing soul.

#photoshop #altered #beauty #opinion #body image #size 0 #anoreixa #confidence #adolescent #glamour #fashion #glamor industry #model #magazine #airbrushing

[encroix11]

I Didn’t Know I Had So Much Pain…

“Your bucket will be your best friend,” he said.

“Keep it close, and make sure you don’t kick it over, if you get up to use the bathroom”

… “Nothing is worse than having someone else’s purge, spill all over you,” said the Shaman.

The room full of people, ready for their ceremony, laughed.

And so began, my second ceremony.

I didn’t know I had so much pain…

I remember in the middle of the ceremony, purging, shaking, convulsing, letting go of what felt like energetic chains of bondage, into my bucket…

I held it close. Hugged it, and made sure it was right in front of me, throughout my entire ceremony.

I even remember laughing, hearing the Shaman’s words echo in my consciousness.

“Your bucket will be your best friend”…

Man, did I love and appreciate that bucket.

I didn’t know how Ayahuasca worked…

How this medicine, and sacred plant Teacher from the Amazon, can help me release so deeply, such dark pain and sadness within my heart and soul…

All I knew, is that it did.

And after every ceremony, no matter how hard it was, I felt lighter, more clear, more free, peaceful, and more… ME.

More of Who I Really Am.

And I could feel so deeply, like a layer of sludge, being removed from my energetic body.

What was happening to me, was so far beyond any mental comprehension.

I even remember Mother Ayahuasca telling me, when I tried to “figure out” what was happening.

“Don’t try to understand,” She said.

And honestly, nothing can ever show you what an Ayahuasca ceremony is like…

Other than your own experience.

Everything I share, is just words…

Which point to the experience. But of course, will never demonstrate what an Ayahausca ceremony is actually like, until you experience it for yourself.

Trying to speak about my ceremony, is like trying to put the ocean in a water bottle.

No words, can ever do the job.

But what I can tell you –

Is that each ceremony I’ve ever had, reveals to me…

Things that I didn’t even know, were effecting me. Which were holding me back and caused suffering, in some way or another.

I get to see unsconsiousness, that, as the word suggests, is something we aren’t conscious of.

For example, in my second ceremony, it showed me a painful experience from my past, that tainted how I looked at the world…

And even though I thought I was healed from that experience, because I no longer thought about it…

It didn’t mean, that I was fully healed from it.

What am I talking about?

In 2012, I was married.

And divorced, within 4 months.

My heart was shattered. Everything that I thought I believed about love, vanished in an instant.

The woman I thought I was going to be with for the rest of my life, left me.

Why?

That’s a story I’ll share in my next email.

But the point is –

Mother Ayahuasca is here to show us, what we need to heal.

Because the things that you and I need to heal most…

We aren’t even aware of.

Maybe you can see certain patterns in your life, like anger, resentment, addictions, anxiety or depression…

Maybe a lack of direction, feeling lost or stuck in life…

The ROOT of these pains, lay in your subconscious.

Meaning, the reason you may feel such negative emotions, is attached to a memory, a wound, a traumatic experience from your past…

That, you have very likely forgotten about.

And this blessed sacrament, will help you to SEE the root of your pain…

So that you can finally heal it, and let it go.

When you do that, it automatically shifts the quality of your life today.

Does this make sense?

You heal your past, and your present becomes infinitely better.

It’s all connected.

And Mother Ayahuasca helps you see, which experiences from your past need healing.

This is why this medicine is so life-changing.

And why I invite you to join us in Peru, if you are ready to go inside and let go of the root pains, that cause suffering in your life today.

Nothing is more valuable, if you really want to shift the quality of your life… fast.

That’s all for today!

Speak to you again soon!

[To be continued..]

With infinite love, here for you and your deepest healing, Trinity de Guzman & The Ayahuasca Healings Family

PS –

Everything that has ever happened in your life, has led you to this moment.

All your pain, has led you to this path.

And every difficult experience in your life, is here to be your teacher.

A gift, that, when you look at it, with these new eyes that Mother Ayahuasca gives you…

Will be something that you can not help but be grateful for.

The shift starts, by understanding…

Your pain is your teacher.

And it’s led you to Mother Ayahuasca.

And Mother Ayahuasca, will lead you to a life more beautiful, than anything you could even imagine…

Join us.

We are here for you, in every way.

Much love!!

. . .

The post I Didn’t Know I Had So Much Pain… appeared first on Ayahuasca Healings.

from Ayahuasca Healings https://ift.tt/2Erd6yr

from WordPress https://encroix1.wordpress.com/2018/04/06/i-didnt-know-i-had-so-much-pain/

#Uncategorized #Ayahuasca Healings

[regionouest]

I Didn’t Know I Had So Much Pain…

“Your bucket will be your best friend,” he said.

“Keep it close, and make sure you don’t kick it over, if you get up to use the bathroom”

… “Nothing is worse than having someone else’s purge, spill all over you,” said the Shaman.

The room full of people, ready for their ceremony, laughed.

And so began, my second ceremony.

I didn’t know I had so much pain…

I remember in the middle of the ceremony, purging, shaking, convulsing, letting go of what felt like energetic chains of bondage, into my bucket…

I held it close. Hugged it, and made sure it was right in front of me, throughout my entire ceremony.

I even remember laughing, hearing the Shaman’s words echo in my consciousness.

“Your bucket will be your best friend”…

Man, did I love and appreciate that bucket.

I didn’t know how Ayahuasca worked…

How this medicine, and sacred plant Teacher from the Amazon, can help me release so deeply, such dark pain and sadness within my heart and soul…

All I knew, is that it did.

And after every ceremony, no matter how hard it was, I felt lighter, more clear, more free, peaceful, and more… ME.

More of Who I Really Am.

And I could feel so deeply, like a layer of sludge, being removed from my energetic body.

What was happening to me, was so far beyond any mental comprehension.

I even remember Mother Ayahuasca telling me, when I tried to “figure out” what was happening.

“Don’t try to understand,” She said.

And honestly, nothing can ever show you what an Ayahuasca ceremony is like…

Other than your own experience.

Everything I share, is just words…

Which point to the experience. But of course, will never demonstrate what an Ayahausca ceremony is actually like, until you experience it for yourself.

Trying to speak about my ceremony, is like trying to put the ocean in a water bottle.

No words, can ever do the job.

But what I can tell you –

Is that each ceremony I’ve ever had, reveals to me…

Things that I didn’t even know, were effecting me. Which were holding me back and caused suffering, in some way or another.

I get to see unsconsiousness, that, as the word suggests, is something we aren’t conscious of.

For example, in my second ceremony, it showed me a painful experience from my past, that tainted how I looked at the world…

And even though I thought I was healed from that experience, because I no longer thought about it…

It didn’t mean, that I was fully healed from it.

What am I talking about?

In 2012, I was married.

And divorced, within 4 months.

My heart was shattered. Everything that I thought I believed about love, vanished in an instant.

The woman I thought I was going to be with for the rest of my life, left me.

Why?

That’s a story I’ll share in my next email.

But the point is –

Mother Ayahuasca is here to show us, what we need to heal.

Because the things that you and I need to heal most…

We aren’t even aware of.

Maybe you can see certain patterns in your life, like anger, resentment, addictions, anxiety or depression…

Maybe a lack of direction, feeling lost or stuck in life…

The ROOT of these pains, lay in your subconscious.

Meaning, the reason you may feel such negative emotions, is attached to a memory, a wound, a traumatic experience from your past…

That, you have very likely forgotten about.

And this blessed sacrament, will help you to SEE the root of your pain…

So that you can finally heal it, and let it go.

When you do that, it automatically shifts the quality of your life today.

Does this make sense?

You heal your past, and your present becomes infinitely better.

It’s all connected.

And Mother Ayahuasca helps you see, which experiences from your past need healing.

This is why this medicine is so life-changing.

And why I invite you to join us in Peru, if you are ready to go inside and let go of the root pains, that cause suffering in your life today.

Nothing is more valuable, if you really want to shift the quality of your life… fast.

That’s all for today!

Speak to you again soon!

[To be continued..]

With infinite love, here for you and your deepest healing, Trinity de Guzman & The Ayahuasca Healings Family

PS –

Everything that has ever happened in your life, has led you to this moment.

All your pain, has led you to this path.

And every difficult experience in your life, is here to be your teacher.

A gift, that, when you look at it, with these new eyes that Mother Ayahuasca gives you…

Will be something that you can not help but be grateful for.

The shift starts, by understanding…

Your pain is your teacher.

And it’s led you to Mother Ayahuasca.

And Mother Ayahuasca, will lead you to a life more beautiful, than anything you could even imagine…

Join us.

We are here for you, in every way.

Much love!!

. . .

The post I Didn’t Know I Had So Much Pain… appeared first on Ayahuasca Healings.

from Ayahuasca Healings https://ift.tt/2Erd6yr

#Ayahuasca Healings

[woodlanereserved]

I Didn’t Know I Had So Much Pain…

“Your bucket will be your best friend,” he said.

“Keep it close, and make sure you don’t kick it over, if you get up to use the bathroom”

… “Nothing is worse than having someone else’s purge, spill all over you,” said the Shaman.

The room full of people, ready for their ceremony, laughed.

And so began, my second ceremony.

I didn’t know I had so much pain…

I remember in the middle of the ceremony, purging, shaking, convulsing, letting go of what felt like energetic chains of bondage, into my bucket…

I held it close. Hugged it, and made sure it was right in front of me, throughout my entire ceremony.

I even remember laughing, hearing the Shaman’s words echo in my consciousness.

“Your bucket will be your best friend”…

Man, did I love and appreciate that bucket.

I didn’t know how Ayahuasca worked…

How this medicine, and sacred plant Teacher from the Amazon, can help me release so deeply, such dark pain and sadness within my heart and soul…

All I knew, is that it did.

And after every ceremony, no matter how hard it was, I felt lighter, more clear, more free, peaceful, and more… ME.

More of Who I Really Am.

And I could feel so deeply, like a layer of sludge, being removed from my energetic body.

What was happening to me, was so far beyond any mental comprehension.

I even remember Mother Ayahuasca telling me, when I tried to “figure out” what was happening.

“Don’t try to understand,” She said.

And honestly, nothing can ever show you what an Ayahuasca ceremony is like…

Other than your own experience.

Everything I share, is just words…

Which point to the experience. But of course, will never demonstrate what an Ayahausca ceremony is actually like, until you experience it for yourself.

Trying to speak about my ceremony, is like trying to put the ocean in a water bottle.

No words, can ever do the job.

But what I can tell you –

Is that each ceremony I’ve ever had, reveals to me…

Things that I didn’t even know, were effecting me. Which were holding me back and caused suffering, in some way or another.

I get to see unsconsiousness, that, as the word suggests, is something we aren’t conscious of.

For example, in my second ceremony, it showed me a painful experience from my past, that tainted how I looked at the world…

And even though I thought I was healed from that experience, because I no longer thought about it…

It didn’t mean, that I was fully healed from it.

What am I talking about?

In 2012, I was married.

And divorced, within 4 months.

My heart was shattered. Everything that I thought I believed about love, vanished in an instant.

The woman I thought I was going to be with for the rest of my life, left me.

Why?

That’s a story I’ll share in my next email.

But the point is –

Mother Ayahuasca is here to show us, what we need to heal.

Because the things that you and I need to heal most…

We aren’t even aware of.

Maybe you can see certain patterns in your life, like anger, resentment, addictions, anxiety or depression…

Maybe a lack of direction, feeling lost or stuck in life…

The ROOT of these pains, lay in your subconscious.

Meaning, the reason you may feel such negative emotions, is attached to a memory, a wound, a traumatic experience from your past…

That, you have very likely forgotten about.

And this blessed sacrament, will help you to SEE the root of your pain…

So that you can finally heal it, and let it go.

When you do that, it automatically shifts the quality of your life today.

Does this make sense?

You heal your past, and your present becomes infinitely better.

It’s all connected.

And Mother Ayahuasca helps you see, which experiences from your past need healing.

This is why this medicine is so life-changing.

And why I invite you to join us in Peru, if you are ready to go inside and let go of the root pains, that cause suffering in your life today.

Nothing is more valuable, if you really want to shift the quality of your life… fast.

That’s all for today!

Speak to you again soon!

[To be continued..]

With infinite love, here for you and your deepest healing, Trinity de Guzman & The Ayahuasca Healings Family

PS –

Everything that has ever happened in your life, has led you to this moment.

All your pain, has led you to this path.

And every difficult experience in your life, is here to be your teacher.

A gift, that, when you look at it, with these new eyes that Mother Ayahuasca gives you…

Will be something that you can not help but be grateful for.

The shift starts, by understanding…

Your pain is your teacher.

And it’s led you to Mother Ayahuasca.

And Mother Ayahuasca, will lead you to a life more beautiful, than anything you could even imagine…

Join us.

We are here for you, in every way.

Much love!!

. . .

The post I Didn’t Know I Had So Much Pain… appeared first on Ayahuasca Healings.

from Ayahuasca Healings https://ift.tt/2Erd6yr

#Ayahuasca Healings

[woodlanereserve]

I Didn’t Know I Had So Much Pain…

“Your bucket will be your best friend,” he said.

“Keep it close, and make sure you don’t kick it over, if you get up to use the bathroom”

… “Nothing is worse than having someone else’s purge, spill all over you,” said the Shaman.

The room full of people, ready for their ceremony, laughed.

And so began, my second ceremony.

I didn’t know I had so much pain…

I remember in the middle of the ceremony, purging, shaking, convulsing, letting go of what felt like energetic chains of bondage, into my bucket…

I held it close. Hugged it, and made sure it was right in front of me, throughout my entire ceremony.

I even remember laughing, hearing the Shaman’s words echo in my consciousness.

“Your bucket will be your best friend”…

Man, did I love and appreciate that bucket.

I didn’t know how Ayahuasca worked…

How this medicine, and sacred plant Teacher from the Amazon, can help me release so deeply, such dark pain and sadness within my heart and soul…

All I knew, is that it did.

And after every ceremony, no matter how hard it was, I felt lighter, more clear, more free, peaceful, and more… ME.

More of Who I Really Am.

And I could feel so deeply, like a layer of sludge, being removed from my energetic body.

What was happening to me, was so far beyond any mental comprehension.

I even remember Mother Ayahuasca telling me, when I tried to “figure out” what was happening.

“Don’t try to understand,” She said.

And honestly, nothing can ever show you what an Ayahuasca ceremony is like…

Other than your own experience.

Everything I share, is just words…

Which point to the experience. But of course, will never demonstrate what an Ayahausca ceremony is actually like, until you experience it for yourself.

Trying to speak about my ceremony, is like trying to put the ocean in a water bottle.

No words, can ever do the job.

But what I can tell you –

Is that each ceremony I’ve ever had, reveals to me…

Things that I didn’t even know, were effecting me. Which were holding me back and caused suffering, in some way or another.

I get to see unsconsiousness, that, as the word suggests, is something we aren’t conscious of.

For example, in my second ceremony, it showed me a painful experience from my past, that tainted how I looked at the world…

And even though I thought I was healed from that experience, because I no longer thought about it…

It didn’t mean, that I was fully healed from it.

What am I talking about?

In 2012, I was married.

And divorced, within 4 months.

My heart was shattered. Everything that I thought I believed about love, vanished in an instant.

The woman I thought I was going to be with for the rest of my life, left me.

Why?

That’s a story I’ll share in my next email.

But the point is –

Mother Ayahuasca is here to show us, what we need to heal.

Because the things that you and I need to heal most…

We aren’t even aware of.

Maybe you can see certain patterns in your life, like anger, resentment, addictions, anxiety or depression…

Maybe a lack of direction, feeling lost or stuck in life…

The ROOT of these pains, lay in your subconscious.

Meaning, the reason you may feel such negative emotions, is attached to a memory, a wound, a traumatic experience from your past…

That, you have very likely forgotten about.

And this blessed sacrament, will help you to SEE the root of your pain…

So that you can finally heal it, and let it go.

When you do that, it automatically shifts the quality of your life today.

Does this make sense?

You heal your past, and your present becomes infinitely better.

It’s all connected.

And Mother Ayahuasca helps you see, which experiences from your past need healing.

This is why this medicine is so life-changing.

And why I invite you to join us in Peru, if you are ready to go inside and let go of the root pains, that cause suffering in your life today.

Nothing is more valuable, if you really want to shift the quality of your life… fast.

That’s all for today!

Speak to you again soon!

[To be continued..]

With infinite love, here for you and your deepest healing, Trinity de Guzman & The Ayahuasca Healings Family

PS –

Everything that has ever happened in your life, has led you to this moment.

All your pain, has led you to this path.

And every difficult experience in your life, is here to be your teacher.

A gift, that, when you look at it, with these new eyes that Mother Ayahuasca gives you…

Will be something that you can not help but be grateful for.

The shift starts, by understanding…

Your pain is your teacher.

And it’s led you to Mother Ayahuasca.

And Mother Ayahuasca, will lead you to a life more beautiful, than anything you could even imagine…

Join us.

We are here for you, in every way.

Much love!!

. . .

The post I Didn’t Know I Had So Much Pain… appeared first on Ayahuasca Healings.

from Ayahuasca Healings https://ift.tt/2Erd6yr

#Ayahuasca Healings