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be-gay-do-heists · 3 years

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hello yall :) the holy month of elul started last night, which is typically a time for contemplation, so since it is impossible for me to stop thinking about leverage, i decided to write an essay. hope anyone interested in reading it enjoys, and that it makes at least a little sense!! spoilers for leverage redemption

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Leverage, Judaism, and “Doing the Work”: An Essay for Elul

When it comes to Elul and the approaching High Holidays, Leverage might seem like an odd topic to meditate on.

The TNT crime drama that ran from 2008-2012, and which released a new season this summer following its renewal, centers on a group of found-family thieves who help the victims of corporations and oligarchs (sometimes based on real-world examples), using wacky heists and cons to bring down the rich and powerful. In one episode, the team’s clients want to reclaim their father’s prized Glimt piece that had been stolen in the Shoah and never returned, but aside from this and the throwaway lines and jokes standard for most mainstream television, there’s not a ton textually Jewish about Leverage. However, despite this, I have found that the show has strong resonance among Jewish fans, and lots of potential for analysis along Jewish themes. This tends to focus on one character in particular: the group’s brilliant, pop culture-savvy, and personable hacker, Alec Hardison, played by the phenomenally talented Aldis Hodge.

I can’t remember when or where I first encountered a reading of Hardison as Jewish, but not only is this a somewhat popular interpretation, it doesn’t feel like that much of a leap. In the show itself, Hardison has a couple of the aforementioned throwaway lines that potentially point to him being Jewish, even if they’re only in service of that moment’s grift. It’s hard to point to what exactly makes reading Hardison as Jewish feel so natural. My first guess is the easy way Hardison fits into the traditional paradigms of Jewish masculinity explored by scholars such as Daniel Boyarin (2). Most of the time, the hacker is not portrayed as athletic or physical; he is usually the foil to the team’s more physically-adept characters like fighter Eliot, or thief Parker. Indeed, Hardison’s strength is mental, expressed not only through his computer wizardry but his passions for science, technology, music, popular media, as well as his studious research into whatever scenario the group might come up against. In spite of his self-identification as a “geek,” Hardison is nevertheless confident, emotionally sensitive, and secure in his masculinity. I would argue he is representative of the traditional Jewish masculine ideal, originating in the rabbinic period and solidified in medieval Europe, of the dedicated and thoughtful scholar (3). Another reason for popular readings of Hardison as Jewish may be the desire for more representation of Jews of color. Although mainstream American Jewish institutions are beginning to recognize the incredible diversity of Jews in the United States (4), and popular figures such as Tiffany Haddish are amplifying the experiences of non-white Jews, it is still difficult to find Jews of color represented in popular media. For those eager to see this kind of representation, then, interpreting Hardison, a black man who places himself tangential to Jewishness, in this way is a tempting avenue.

Regardless, all of the above remains fan interpretation, and there was little in the text of the show that seriously tied Judaism into Hardison’s identity. At least, until we got this beautiful speech from Hardison in the very first episode of the renewed show, directed at the character of Harry Wilson, a former corporate lawyer looking to atone for the injustice he was partner to throughout his career:

“In the Jewish faith, repentance, redemption, is a process. You can’t make restitution and then promise to change. You have to change first. Do the work, Harry. Then and only then can you begin to ask for forgiveness. [...] So this… this isn’t the win. It’s the start, Harry.”

I was floored to hear this speech, and thrilled that it explained the reboot’s title, Leverage: Redemption. Although not mentioned by its Hebrew name, teshuvah forms the whole basis for the new season. Teshuvah is the concept of repentance or atonement for the sins one has committed. Stemming from the root shuv/shuva, it carries the literal sense of “return.” In a spiritual context, this usually means a return to G-d, of finding one’s way back to holiness and by extension good favor in the eyes of the Divine. But equally important is restoring one’s relationships with fellow humans by repairing any hurt one has caused over the past year. This is of special significance in the holy month of Elul, leading into Rosh haShanah, the Yamim Noraim, and Yom Kippur, but one can undertake a journey of redemption at any point in time. That teshuvah is a journey is a vital message for Harry to hear; one job, one reparative act isn’t enough to overturn years of being on the wrong side of justice, to his chagrin. As the season progresses, we get to watch his path of teshuvah unfold, with all its frustrations and consequences. Harry grows into his role as a fixer, not only someone who can find jobs and marks for the team, but fixes what he has broken or harmed.

So why was Hardison the one to make this speech?

I do maintain that it does provide a stronger textual basis for reading Hardison as Jewish by implication (though the brief on-screen explanation for why he knows about teshuvah, that his foster-parent Nana raised a multi-faith household, is important in its own merit, and meshes well with his character traits of empathy and understanding for diverse experiences). However, beyond this, Hardison isn’t exactly an archetypical model for teshuvah. In the original series, he was the youngest character of the main ensemble, a hacking prodigy in the start of his adult career, with few mistakes or slights against others under his belt. In one flashback we see that his possibly first crime was stealing from the Bank of Iceland to pay off his Nana’s medical bills, and that his other early hacking exploits were in the service of fulfilling personal desires, with only those who could afford to pay the bill as targets. Indeed, in the middle of his speech, Hardison points to Eliot, the character with the most violent and gritty past who views his work with the Leverage team as atonement, for a prime example of ongoing teshuvah. So while no one is perfect and everyone has a reason for doing teshuvah, this question of why Hardison is the one to give this series-defining speech inspired me to look at his character choices and behavior, and see how they resonate with a different but interrelated Jewish principle, that of tikkun olam.

Tikkun olam is literally translated as “repairing the world,” and can take many different forms, such as protecting the rights of vulnerable people in society, or giving tzedakah (5). In modern times, tikkun olam is often the rallying cry for Jewish social activists, particularly among environmentalists for whom literally restoring the health of the natural world is the key goal. Teshuvah and tikkun olam are intertwined (the former is the latter performed at an interpersonal level) and both hold a sense of fixing or repairing, but tikkun olam really revolves around a person feeling called to address an injustice that they may have not had a personal hand in creating. Hardison’s sense of a universal scale of justice which he has the power to help right on a global level and his newfound drive to do humanitarian work, picked up sometime after the end of the original series, make tikkun olam a central value for his character. This is why we get this nice bit of dialogue from Eliot to Hardison in the second episode of the reboot, when the latter’s outside efforts to organize international aid start distracting him from his work with the team: “Is [humanitarian work] a side gig? In our line of work, you’re one of the best. But in that line of work… you’re the only one, man.” The character who most exemplifies teshuvah reminds Hardison of his amazing ability to effect change for the better on a huge stage, to do some effective tikkun olam. It’s this acknowledgement of where Hardison can do the most good that prompts the character’s absence for the remainder of the episodes released thus far, turning his side gig into his main gig.

With this in mind, it will be interesting to see where Hardison’s arc for this season goes. Separated from the rest of the team, the hacker still has remarkable power to change the world, because it is, after all, the “age of the geek.” However, he is still one person. For all that both teshuvah and tikkun olam are individual responsibilities and require individual decision-making and effort, the latter especially relies on collective work to actually make things happen. Hardison leaving is better than trying to do humanitarian work and Leverage at the same time, but there’s only so long he can be the “only one” in the field before burning out. I’m reminded of one of the most famous (for good reason) maxims in Judaism:

It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you free to neglect it. (6)

Elul is traditionally a time for introspection and heeding the calls to repentance. After a year where it’s never been easier to feel powerless and drained by everything going on around us, I think it’s worth taking the time to examine what kind of work we are capable of in our own lives. Maybe it’s fixing the very recent and tangible hurts we’ve left behind, like Harry. Maybe it’s the little changes for the better that we make every day, motivated by our sense of responsibility, like Eliot. And maybe it’s the grueling challenge of major social change, like Hardison. And if any of this work gets too much, who can we fall back on for support and healing? Determining what needs repair, working on our own scale and where our efforts are most helpful, and thereby contributing to justice in realistic ways means that we can start the new year fresh, having contemplated in holiday fashion how we can be better agents in the world.

Shana tovah u’metukah and ketivah tovah to all (7), and may the work we do in the coming year be for good!

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(1) Disclaimer: everybody’s fandom experiences are different, and this is just what I’ve picked up on in my short time watching and enjoying this show with others.

(2) See, for example, the introduction and first chapter of Boyarin’s book Unheroic Conduct: The Rise of Heterosexuality and the Invention of the Jewish Man (I especially recommend at least this portion if you are interested in queer theory and Judaic studies). There he explores the development of Jewish masculinity in direct opposition to Christian masculine standards.

(3) I might even go so far as to place Hardison well within the Jewish masculine ideal of Edelkayt, gentle and studious nobility (although I would hesitate to call him timid, another trait associated with Edelkayt). Boyarin explains that this scholarly, non-athletic model of man did not carry negative associations in the historical Jewish mindset, but was rather the height of attractiveness (Boyarin, 2, 51).

(4) Jews of color make up 20% of American Jews, according to statistics from Be’chol Lashon, and this number is projected to increase as American demographics continue to change: https://globaljews.org/about/mission/.

(5) Tzedakah is commonly known as righteous charity. According to traditional authority Maimonides, it should be given anonymously and without embarrassment to the person in need, generous, and designed to help the recipient become self-sufficient.

(6) Rabbi Tarfon, Pirkei Avot, 2:16

(7) “A good and sweet year” and “a good inscription [in the Book of Life]”

#leverage #miko speaks #jewish stuff #jumblr #leverage redemption #spoilers #lr spoilers #leverage redemption spoilers #written for a non leverage audience because i want my rabbi to read it alskdjflaksdjf #elul

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tamagochiie · 3 years

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pairing: timeskip!kenma x fem!reader

synopsis: You come home late from your cousin’s funeral, and though Kenma didn’t expect much from you but perhaps a few leftovers you’ve managed to steal away from the dinner, he finds you with a surprise: a sleeping child cradled around your neck and a teenage boy hovering behind you.

Your poor boyfriend wondering what in the hell it is you’re plotting…

tags: angst and fluff, time skip!, slight spoilers if you squint

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of depression, cursing

w/c: 2.2k

tagging list: @angrylittleriri @chims-kookies @gooseyhouse

a/n: hello! welcome to the second chapter of the series! i’m posting this a little later than expected because wifi is really trying to cock block me from posting :’) i honestly wasn’t expecting people to like or interacting with this fic, so my heart is super warm right now :>

anyway, I hope you enjoy!

happy almost new year! see you all next week!

master list

<< life as we know it | life as he’s known it >>

You wonder what the younger version of you would think if you went back in time and told her she'd be eating at a dining table filled with food that wasn't microwavable, and the air wouldn't be filled by the sound of metal clanging and scraping against each other, but instead be filled by the lilting giggles of a little boy; his older brother pressing him to keep it down; and Kenma's casual yet awkward attempt to relate to the two.

She would probably cry.

Your parents' work piled up to the late hours of the evening and spilled into the morning, leaving you in a constant state of dejection. The house would be barren, nothing but the faint ticking of the old grandfather clock to keep you company. But even if your parents were home, it would still be the same; the air cold and unmoving.

Your parents were not warm nor were they emotional, and maybe that's what drew you to Kenma; he was quiet, rarely affectionate, and gave you more than enough room to breathe. Sure, there were the occasional forehead kisses, the head pats, the 'how are you doing' texts, and sometimes if he was brave enough, he’d interlock pinkies with you in public.

But you grew selfish, finding yourself wanting a little more each time you saw him, and you weren't sure if it was okay.

Was it okay to yearn for things?

Was it okay to ask for more?

But Kenma saw through your facade of accepting things as they are and right into your neediness. He was willing to give as long as you asked or even when you were too shy to do so. He even gave you his whole life without sparing a second thought even if the realization that he had done so came much later.

"Here, let me." Kenma slips his hands over yours, taking the plate from within your grasp to wash it in your place. He bumps his hips against yours, causing you to stumble away from the sink.

You mumble a thank you before resorting to wiping down the dishes and setting them on the rack.

You delight in his banter. He asks you about your day, stealing glances between you and the stack of dishes before him while you give him the run down. He listens to you intently, gaze wandering a little longer when he hears an exasperated sigh escape your lips, but you let him know you're just fine.

"What about you?" You ask, tilting your head and playfully moving it in front of Kenma's face, blocking him from the plate he needs to scrub. "How was your day?"

He hums, tiptoeing over you to finish the chore like the diligent little worker he is. "It was another day," You frown at him and his lack of effort to push further. He rolls his eyes, chuckling at your pouty face. "I played another trial game with Eiji—"

"And how'd that go?"

"Oh, he's absolute shit—ow!" Your slap against his arm resounds throughout the apartment, causing Yuki and Eiji's to jerk their attention towards you both. You mold your face into a look of ease, sparing them a warm smile, telling them you saw a fly.

"The hell?! I wasn't finished!" The pudding head seethes. "Sure he was shit, but he was still better than you."

The cocky grin slipping across his lips matching with his lidded eyes has you throwing your hands, erupting a series of ow's. "You're such an ass, you know that?"

"Yeah, the ass you chose." He sneers, handing you the last plate to dry.

He rubs his arm in an attempt to soothe the stinging, glaring at you begrudgingly. It takes you a while to ease back into his trust, but you do, and he picks up where he leaves off as if he wasn't in any pain to begin with.

He tells you about his little trip to the convenience store with Yuki for his strawberry milk, and the foreign, constricting feeling that wouldn't leave his chest until they came back home. How he couldn't let go of Yuki's hand when they were in the store, and if he did, it would send him in a state of sheer panic.

"Must be your mommy instincts kicking in," You joke, and he only rolls his eyes.

He also admits inadvertently turning all your favorite whites into various shades of pinks and blues. As someone as analytical as Kenma, he was challenged by the task of separating the lights from the darks.

You snort, earning a scowl from your boyfriend and a string of explanations to defend his case. But it isn't the mistake that makes you laugh, but rather how far you've come after a month of adjustments and an unfortunate series of events.

The first two weeks were exceptionally trying. No one spoke a word and everyone walked on eggshells. Eiji was still too shy to look at you, his responses down to a bare minimum and quieter than a whisper; Yuki cried almost all the time over every little thing, and the vein in Kenma's neck was threatening to pop every time he did.

It didn't help when you and Kenma would end your nights at each other's throats, bickering till you fell asleep. And when morning came, you'd be greeted by the emptiness from his side of the bed.

And it helped no one when the two of you would avoid each other, never crossing paths or breathing a word the moment you came home until it was too painfully awkward to continue.

Two and half hours charged with petty arguments, things of the past, and all the little things that came in between only to have finally arrived at one conclusion: You weren't parents and you weren't Akihiro-san. You were your own people and it was okay to do things differently.

Even if different meant that Kenma might call the kids by the wrong name or forget the fact he's living with someone else other than you. Even if different meant that you'll be absent-mindedly teaching Yuki a few curses to add to his vocabulary or forgetting to enroll them in school.

The truth is no one from the family was going to return your calls, and you were probably going to spend the rest of your twenties making up bedtime stories and giving pretty bad advice to someone just a few years younger than you.

Which brings you here, wearing your bathing suit as you share your bubble bath with Yuki because he wanted to play with the rubber duckies he whined and moaned at Kenma to buy for him at the store.

Lathering his hair with shampoo, Yuki's head leans against your chest, eyes gleaming beneath the bathroom lights. He beams at you, giggling at the ticklish feeling as you massage his head. He brings attention back to his ducks, making crashing sounds as he splashes them into the water.

"Is that how ducks swim?" You ask, washing away the soap from his hair. "Don't they just kinda...float around?"

He shakes his head before twisting his body to face you. He's got a tough expression plastered on; brows furrowed, his jaw clenched, eyes unwavering.

A very serious boy.

"These are special ducks," He explains, raising one to your face."These are battleship ducks."

Your lips fall to an 'o', still not picking up what he's putting down but you pretend you do.

Is this what kids are into these days?

Yuki goes on to tell you about his special ducks; something about lasers in their eyes, super special flying skills, and...echo location? You ask him if he's sure—if you heard him right, but he's as firm with his stance as he is with the death grip he has on his rubber duckies.

You drain the tub before rinsing yourselves beneath the warm water of the shower. Yuki flips his hair around, air drying himself as he steps out of the tub. You tell him to brush his teeth while he waits for you to finish rinsing.

"Hey, Oba-san," Yuki's call is muffled by the foam of the toothpaste still in his mouth. "Are you and Kenma-san married?"

You nearly fall when you slip off of your bathing suit and into your pajamas. "Ah, no, Yuki. We're not."

"But aren't you in love?" He asks, oblivious to the sudden shift in the atmosphere, spitting into the sink and washing his mouth.

Your eye twitches and you swallow the lump in your throat before it goes big enough for you to choke and die. "Uhh, people don't always have to marry right away just because they're in love..."

"But Kenma-san said he's been in love with you for four years."

"I—Yeah, well—"

"That's sounds like a really long time, Oba-san." You can't tell if he means to sound condescending. You can't tell if your mom has awakened from the grave and possessed the young boy because she woke up thinking she had a few more things she'd like to pester you with.

"Well, Yuki," You gather the little patience you have left, taking a deep breath as you step out of the tub. The bathroom tile is cold against the soles of your feet, sending a shiver down your spine. Enough to keep you sober for trivial conversation with a six year old boy. "Love—Love kinda looks different for everyone, Yuki."

You choose your words carefully, not wanting to say anything that might confuse him.

You help him into his clothes, his hair leaving wet patches onto his his dinosaur pajamas. He listens to you intently, looking right into your eyes. "There are people marry the moment they meet—or at least after a short while—because they can't help but feel sure?”

And you can’t help but feel flustered at your own explanation, not too sure with your words, “...and other people don't do that. Some relationships move at a faster pace and other's move a bit slower; and Kenma-san and I...we're happy with how things are right now."

He hums, nodding his head as if he understands. "Even though Eiji-san and I are here?"

"Yes, little love." You assure him with the new nickname, booping his nose. "Even though you're both here."

You grab his towel and dry his hair. You pat down the tiny puddles of water on his face and neck, noting to wipe behind his ears.

"But," Yuki mumbles through the material of the towel, swatting your hand away to to catch his breath, "sometimes people don't like different..." Yuki pushes the towel to this side, his glossy eyes meeting yours and your heart cracks. "They didn't like my dad 'cause he was different."

"H-He didn't love someone th-that looked like y-you..." Yuki bites down on his bottom lip, keeping it from quivering and fixating his eyes onto the tiles of the floor to prevent himself from choking on his words. "H-He...He loved someone that look like Kenma-san."

You understand what he means. You know full well. Their father was gay and because of that, your family ostracized him without wasting another breath. As if it was easy as blinking.

You knew what their father had been going through, you had enough time to help, yet you stood idle, doing nothing but add to his loneliness.

You kept all the sunshine Akihiro-san shared with you during your bluest days, even when it had been so obvious he needed it more than you.

But not once did you ever think about returning a sliver of it. And you wonder maybe if you hadn't been so selfish and naive, a silver lining would've been enough to avoid something as painful as this.

Instinctively, you pull him close to you, threading your fingers through his still damp hair. You shush him and press kiss on the crown of his head as his petite figure trembles in your arms. You let him sob into your shirt, his fingers twisting the material in anguish.

And it breaks your heart that a little human like him would not only know the meaning of anguish, but how it feels to have it tear through his heart.

It takes a few moments for Yuki to catch his breath and for you to ease him. He slumps onto you as he regains his strength. You tell him you're sorry because you are and because you don't know what else to say.

You try to use his strawberry milk and his brother as an incentive to keep him from crying again. And after a few minutes it works.

You trail closely behind him when he walks out of the bathroom. He begins to run when he gets closer to Eiji, the pitter patter of his wee little feet carrying in the apartment.

You watch as Yuki thrusts himself forward into the arms of his brother, and Eiji doesn't fail to catch him. The sight before you leaves you gawking in silence, watching Eiji unravel into his big brother form as he lifts Yuki to the ceiling, playfully sniffing his under arms, the crook of his neck, and even his little bum before complimenting him, "Good job, you smell just like flowers."

His giggles float in the air, swarming around the apartment as if he hadn't been crying just a few minutes ago.

And as you watch the scene unfold do you decide to step out of the sidelines, using this warm moment shared between the boys as your driving force to keep the last of your cousin's light safe.

#Kozume Kenma #Kenma x reader #Kenma x y/n #Haikyuu!!#Kenma imagines #Haikyuu Imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #kenma headcanons #kenma kozume headcanons #kenma hcs #kenma fluff #kenma angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst

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kitkatd7 · 3 years

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What Could’ve Been; Broken Hearts & Whiskey Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky finally starts trying to get his shit together but when you show up with another man it throws everyone for a loop.

Warnings: Angst! Overprotective Bucky, Pissed reader, Threats, womanizing character who gets what he deserves, Talk of the breakup, Cursing that Steve would be ashamed of, Tiniest bit of fluff but not really.

Word Count: 3,331

A/N: I’m finally backkk!!! I’ve been wanting to work on this series for some time now and I’m finally getting a bit of motivation to do so! I hope you enjoy it!

A/N 2: Entire paragraphs of italics are flashbacks, single sentences of italics are internal thoughts, Bold italics are song lyrics. I used lyrics from the song What Could’ve Been by Gone West for this story.

Masterlist of Masterlists || Marvel Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Part 1

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**2 Months After Breakup**

Waltzing into the living room of the Avengers tower, you're met with a chorus of greetings from your adopted family. Despite you and Bucky being over you still spend time with everyone else- just when he isn’t around.

You haven’t seen him since you broke up and you’d like to keep it that way. Seeing him would just be more than you could handle; you already lost him so why remind yourself of it more often than you already do? But at the same time his absence from movie night is just as painful of a reminder- like a puzzle with a lost piece.

Snapping back to reality you give a halfhearted smile, joining Steve and Sam on the couch as Natasha hits play on ‘John Wick’.

----------------------------------------

2 hours later you’re standing in the kitchen making snacks with Sam before the next movie starts. “That’s ridiculous, Sammy!” You giggle, watching the microwave timer count down until the popcorn is ready. “Bacon does not belong in ice cream.”

You hear him chuckle behind you as he empties M&M’s into bowls. “Bacon belongs in everything, sweetheart. You're gonna try it sometime or else...”

“Or else what, Sa-” You cut off as you turn around, frozen on the spot as you peer over

Sam’s shoulder.

“Hey, y/n,” Bucky whispers. Your gaze travels up and down the man you used to know, but he’s different. His eyes have bags beneath them from lack of sleep, his hair longer and more unruly than it was the last time you saw him. The stubborn jawline you remembered was replaced by a nervous clenched jaw. His eyes once so bright were now timid and dull; no longer holding the same sparkle that used to make you smile.

In an instant your expression went from a carefree woman with her friends to the girl who’s heart was shattered by the stranger before you whose face you used to know so well.

“Can we talk?” Bucky asks gently, his expression hopeful yet dreading.

“What are you doing here, James?” you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself as Sam looks between you both carefully.

“I live here,” Bucky nearly scoffs.

“Barnes,” Sam warns, his shoulders tense as he glances at you worriedly.

“I don’t want to talk to you, James. I have nothing to say.”

“All you have to do is listen. Please, doll.”

Despite your best efforts to appear unbothered, the nickname shatters your false bravado. “Don’t call me that,” your voice breaks as tears cloud your vision.

“Excuse me,” you whisper, rushing past both men, ignoring Bucky’s call of your name and attempt to stop you.

“Let her go, man. You’ve done enough,” you hear Sam say as you flee down the hallway, slamming the bathroom door behind you.

Locking the door you turn on the faucet as the tears begin to fall and the suppressed memories rush back:

**2 Months Before Breakup* Flashbacks*

“It’s midnight! Where the hell were you?” You yelled, tears pricking your eyes.

Bucky sighed in defeat, his expression resigned and cold. “Can we do this in the morning?” His tone more of an order than a request as he turns his back on you and begins to walk down the hallway of your apartment.

“No, we can’t do it in the morning. You owe me an explanation. You were supposed to be here when my parents got here. You promised.” You sniffled as Bucky’s shoulders stiffened. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a good enough reason,” he mumbles before walking away.

I haven't stopped thinking about you

Has it really been this long?

Two years and an ocean between us

And I don't know where it all went wrong

I know I coulda kissed you harder

And yeah, you coulda followed through

Shoulda talked a little bit softer

But we meant every "I love you"

**1 Month Before Breakup**

Glancing around the restaurant you see no sign of Bucky. Checking your phone for the 8th time in the past 10 minutes, you sigh. Where is he? You’ve been here for an hour; waiting in your new dress for the man who hadn’t bothered to show. You’re getting tired of the pitiful looks the waitress and the other customers are shooting you. Polishing off your second glass of wine you open your phone: no new messages.

You’ve already sent Bucky 5 texts and called him 4 times; you're done.

Paying for the wine quickly you all but flee the restaurant, trying to hold back your tears. If you weren’t so upset you would probably laugh; laugh at yourself for being so naive to think he would keep his word. But you can’t bring yourself to laugh, not while your heart slowly shatters at the hands of the man who swore never to hurt you.

I don't know what this is or what it isn't

But it feels like we've got unfinished business

**2 Months Ago; AKA Week of Breakup**

“Hey this is y/n, I can’t come to the phone right now cuz I’m out livin my life! Leave it at the beep.” He hears your all too familiar voicemail through the speaker. He had helped you come up with it, you hadn’t known what to put on it. He kicks himself, knowing you weren’t actually out living your life, just dodging his calls. Not that he blamed you- He deserved it and he knew it. Calling again, he’s not surprised when he hears your voicemail again.

“Hey… Um, listen, I know I was supposed to be at your place after the mission… I just wanted to unwind with the guys and- Shit. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think you would mind that much, I’ll be over in a bit to make it up to you, okay?” He leaves the message and ends the call before starting his car and driving towards your apartment, guilt heavy in his stomach.

You listen to his voicemail over and over, a strange mix of rage and sorrow weighing on your heart.

Tears roll slowly down your cheeks silently as you lay curled up in a defensive ball on your bed, trying to block out the unmistakable sound of Bucky begging you to open the front door; “Babe, please open the door,” He says, fist resting gently against the frame. “I’m sorry- really, really sorry. Please let me in and we can talk about it,” He sighs, resting his head against the door in defeat. He could break the lock and go in. You both know that. But he wouldn’t do that to you- All that would do is make you fear him and that’s the last thing he wants. He slides his back down the wall til he’s sitting on the floor next to your door, his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair; Tears gathering in his lashes. He really messed up this time.

The next day you drag yourself out of bed, trying to forget last night and all the tears you shed. After a shower and breakfast, you head out the door for a coffee run before work. You stop in your tracks when you see Bucky still sitting there, eyes red from lack of sleep and regret written all over his face. He jumps up when you walk out, keys in hand, the door closing behind you. “What are you doing here?”

“I- I came to apologize,” he murmurs, looking in your eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you bite, moving to step around him but stopping when he steps to block your path.

“Bucky, I’m going to be late for work,” you say coldly, glaring at him. “Move out of the way.”

“Please doll, just let me explain-”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “I understand perfectly, James.” You watch as he flinches a little at the use of his first name. You only use it when you're really mad or really happy, and it isn’t the latter right now. “You were too busy with your beer buddies to come see your girlfriend after being gone for three weeks, but what’s new? It’s been like this for months. I guess it was naive of me to expect something else this time.”

'Cause we left blood the on the tracks

Sweat on the saddle

Fire in the hills

A bullet in the barrel

Words never said in a story that didn't end

Looks like you're on the mend and I'm on the bottle

We folded our hands with money on the table

**Present Day**

All the broken promises, nights alone and tears came rushing back as sobs racked your body. Sliding down the door you rest your head between your knees, eyes screwing shut tightly in a useless attempt to stop the bittersweet memories and tears.

Little do you know that outside the door sat a man with tears clouding his vision as he listened to your muffled sobs on the other side of the door. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to turn back time and undo all of the agony he caused you and hold you like he's been wishing he could for the past 2 months. You were just on the other side of the door, separated from him by a few inches of wood and yet you had never been farther away. What did he do?

Tried moving on, but I keep coming back again

To what could've been

What could've been

Oh, what could've been

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

-------------------------------------------

Stumbling into your apartment you all but throw your keys and purse down before shuffling into the bathroom and turning on the hot water for a shower before turning back to the mirror.

The person you see looking back at you in the mirror isn’t who you remember- or at least not who you thought you were. The person you remember was carefree and happy; living in a dream with the love of their life. You don’t recognize the girl in the mirror with swollen, bloodshot eyes and shoulders that hold the weight of the world. What happened to the girl you used to know?

A single tear rolled down your cheek, leaving a mournful trail in its wake. Bucky. Bucky happened to that girl.

There had always been doubt hidden in the back of your mind; doubt that your beautifully woven reality would become nothing more than a tangled web of what once was and could’ve been, but you never thought it would end like this. You had imagined it being another girl that came between you, or perhaps his self loathing or the inadequacy you felt. Never did you think it would be the unexplainable, cold, unfeeling resentment that had taken over the gentle, sweet man you thought you knew. Where did it go wrong?

A couple more simple, "I'm sorry's"

A little less tryna be right

I wonder how many good mornings we wasted

'Cause we didn't say goodnight

One touch before we fell asleep

Just before our love was out of reach

Coulda been enough, coulda saved us from this loneliness

------------------------------------------

“Steve?” Bucky calls out as he strides into the training room, the door banging shut behind him. Whirling around Steve clutches a hand to his chest. “Jesus, Buck! You scared the hell out of me!”

“I need your help,” Bucky demands, jaw set in a firm line and his eyes glittering with determination.

Steve runs a hand over his face, letting out a sigh. “Is this about Y/N and the other night? Because if it is I am not apologizing to the poor girl for you, so you can just-”

“I want her back.”

“You what?!” Steve exclaimed, his jaw dropping.

“I want her back- I need her back. And I need you to help me.”

“Damn it, Bucky. It’s been 2 months and you saw how she still feels about what you did. How are we gonna fix that?”

“I don’t know yet, Steve… But I have to try. Please.”

-----------------------------

Strolling into Tony’s party happily, you smile up at your date, your arm linked with his.

You greet Tony with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek before turning towards the sound of Natasha calling your name. Sashaying towards her you give her a hug before turning to give Thor and Steve one as well.

“So, who’s this?” Nat asks, gesturing towards your date who’s eyeing her unabashedly, his gaze dropping to her neckline.

“Oh, sorry! This is Jordan!”

You roll your eyes as Thor begins lightly interrogating him, but he doesn’t pay much attention, his gaze fixed on Natasha’s retreating form.

“Can we talk?” Steve asks, his hand resting gently on your forearm. Following him into a nearby corridor you give him a puzzled look. “Is something wrong, Steve?”

“Um, not exactly…” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, what is it then?”

“It’s about Bucky.” Seeing your irritated expression he holds up his hands innocently. “Wait a minute. Just hear me out, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Look, he’s been spiraling since you guys broke up; not eating, always working and out on missions constantly, and his nightmares are getting worse again.”

“Why should I care?”

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend like you don’t still love hi- Actually, fine, Y/N. If you want to pretend that you don’t care then that’s your problem. Just know that seeing you the other night? Changed something. He’s trying again, and I don’t want to see him lose that. So even if you want to tell yourself that it doesn’t matter to you, at least think about it for me.” Steve turned away, pausing for a moment. “Oh, and by the way? Seeing you here tonight with someone else isn’t gonna be good for anyone… But why should you care, right?”

Taken aback by Steve’s lack of usual patience, you can only watch as he walks off, disappearing into the crowd and leaving you with mixed emotions and a hard decision ahead of you; what were you gonna do?

No matter how hard you tried to block out thoughts of Bucky they always managed to slip back in between the cracks in your shattered heart. Steve was right; you did care. But what were you supposed to do about it tonight? Especially about Jordan. Were you supposed to walk up to him and say ‘oh, by the way you have to leave because my ex is here and he may or may not rip your arms off? No, that wouldn’t work.

Racking your brain for a solution, you snag a glass of champagne from one of the passing trays, downing it in the hopes of drowning your mixed emotions - it didn’t work. Taking a deep breath, you start weaving between the sea of bodies towards where you left Jordan.

Spotting Thor and Tony you make your way towards them, smirking when you hear Tony arguing with Thor over… something.

“Where’s Jordan?” you ask, joining their small circle and trying to shake off your conversation with Steve.

“He was here a minute ago… I’m not sure though, kiddo,” Tony says, giving you a puzzled glance. “Speak of the devil, here he is!” Tony exclaims as you look over your shoulder to see a slightly ruffled Jordan walking towards you, his eyes holding an unnatural hazy look.

“Where were you?” You ask lightly, gaze raking his bedraggled form; his shirt slightly untucked, hair mused and lips pink.

“Oh um, nowhere. Just the bathroom.”

Accepting another glass of champagne, you push down the fury in your chest. You’d just taken a sip when an all too familiar figure came to stand beside you; a scotch glass in his hand and clad in an unfairly attractive black suit. “Hey Y/N, who’s this?”

Nearly choking on your drink, your eyes widen. “Bucky! What are you doing here? You hate these parties!” You say before you can stop yourself. Stupid. The offhanded statement would seem innocent to most, but to you- to you it was a reminder that you still knew him better than anyone else did, a reminder that you remembered all the nights alone together instead of at the noisy parties, a reminder that you still cared enough to remember.

You could see that he was thinking the same thing. “This is Jordan. My…” you faded off, not quite sure what to call him.”

“Date,” Jordan finishes for you, wrapping his left arm around your waist lazily, his hand traveling slightly further than appropriate for the first date. “But we’re keeping things loose, isn’t that right?” Jordan asks, glancing at you but not waiting for an answer. “And who the hell are you?”

Your eyes widen in shock, glancing back and forth between the two men; taking in Jordan’s cocky smirk and Bucky’s knowing look.

Bucky extended his hand, a malicious smirk on his lips and dark glint in his eyes as he took in the unprofessional state of Jordan- including the lipstick stain on his white button down- and the uncomfortable shift of your weight, leaning away from your sorry excuse of a date.

Jordan accepted the outstretched hand, wincing visibly and paling at Bucky’s iron grip. “Bucky Barnes,” Bucky offered, enjoying as the other man wriggled uncomfortably in his grip, his arrogance forgotten. His gaze lighted on Bucky’s metal arm, his eyes lighting with recognition and terror.

“Holy- you're the Winter Soldier! God man, I’ve heard so much about you-”

“An honor, I’m sure,” Bucky drawls, looking bored, his voice dropping an octave in warning. “Now get lost.”

You sputter defiantly as Jordan scurries off, his tail between his legs.

“What was that for?!” you fume,a fire burning in your eyes as you turn on Bucky.

“Oh c’mon. The guys’ been eyeing every other woman in here! He’s a douche! What was I supposed to do? Just let him feel you up after sneaking off with who knows what girl?”

“Who ‘feels me up’ is none of your concern anymore!”

“Come off it, Y/N! You didn’t even want him touching you! I was protecting you, so your welcome,” he huffed.

“I don’t need protecting, and I sure as hell don’t need you to protect me. So you can go fuck yourself, James. You can’t treat me like shit for months and then get mad when someone else does the same thing!” you snarl, spinning on your heel and storming off as Bucky watches you.

Bucky stalks across the floor, the crowd parting before him; not willing to get in the way of the 6 foot man on a mission. Locating his target- dancing with another girl no less- he grabs him roughly by the collar before pushing him against a pillar.

“What the hell, dude?” Jordan fumes, eyes locking on Bucky’s before he goes slack, his eyes widening in horror when he recognizes the former assassin.

“Every single thing you’ve ever heard about me is true, so shut up and listen closely,” Bucky growls, his arm braced against Jordans chest forcefully, a murderous glint in his eyes. “I expect you to do exactly what I say, and if you don’t, I’ll know. First, you are going to get your sorry ass out of here, and then you are going to send Y/N an apology text, telling her what an asshole you are, and that you don’t deserve to even look at her. Then, you are not going to get within 1,000 feet of her, and you are not going to text, call, or even think about her ever again, or I swear to God I will hunt you down, cut your balls off and shove them down your goddamn throat, got it? Nod if you understand. Good. Now. Get. Out.”

Releasing Jordan, Bucky watches as he falls to the floor before scrambling towards the door with the fear of God instilled in him.

“What the hell did you just do, Bucky?”

-----------------------------------

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vajranam · 3 years

Text

Dzogchen And Bodhicitta

THE UNION OF DZOGCHEN AND BODHICHITTA

The approach I take to Dharma practice is very simple, yet this approach should not be taken to undermine the profundity of the Buddhadharma. This approach is based on the instructions I received from my own root Lama, Khenchen Tsara Dharmakirti Rinpoche, the experiences I have had in my life, and many long years of study and solitary retreat.

It is my conclusion that the style of Dharma practice that the great yogis and practitioners of India and Tibet have relied upon up until now has been holistic in nature, and I believe that this approach is still the best one to take today.

Logically speaking, the Outer, Inner, and Secret Teachings are fundamentally interconnected and should be adopted and practiced as one path. In fact, they are so fundamentally interconnected that it is actually difficult to give Teachings on one without including the others. This interconnection - along with the "Union" which is the perfect, uncontrived view and the "Union" which is the nature of mind itself-is what I like to can the Union of Dzogchen and Bodhichitta.

Often, when people hear the words "Outer, Inner, and Secret Teachings," they want to associate them with one concept or another, such as the three vehicles of the Hinayana, the Mahayana, and the Vajrayana.

When translated from Sanskrit, the words Hinayana, Mahayana, and Vajrayana mean the "lesser, great, and indestructible vehicles," and "vehicle" refers to the method or the path used to cross the ocean of samsara.

But associating the Outer, Inner, and Secret Teachings with distinct concepts is not what I have in mind. In fact, associating the Teachings with concepts is precisely what can lead us away from putting them into practice properly. This is because as soon as we begin to talk about the Dharma in terms of duality, it becomes exclusive, such that one necessary component can easily be dismissed, ignored, or subordinated in terms of importance to practice.

This suggests that the Dharma is not holistic in nature, but instead that each practitioner may be selective about what they study and practice, thus putting some Teachings into practice while neglecting others, on the basis of assumptions made about the importance of different aspects of the Dharma.

The same thing has happened since the introduction of the Buddhist Teachings into Western pop culture. Many of the more subtle ideas of Buddhist thought, whose understanding requires deep explanations and years of contemplative experience, have been reduced to sound bites and images: simple ideas that are easy to digest and seem easy to realize if we could just remember them.

These packaged ideas appear to be spiritual in nature but have lost the essential meaning conveyed by the Teachings as a whole. One example of this is the commonly spoken idea that "I `.verything is One." '

This idea has its basis in the nature of "suchness," or reality "as it is," which is quite a profound state of realization.

However, it has been taken out of context and oversimplified. It is like a beautiful, empty shell that is not capable of pointing us in the right direction or providing us with the means for realization.

In order to truly understand the Union of Dzogchen and Bodhichitta, the Dharma as we have come to know it in the West has to be fundamentally reconsidered.

The Union of Dzogchen and Bodhichitta is the path in its totality, a synthesis of the Teachings without losing any of the meaning.

Although it is useful in other situations, for this particular discussion, associating the Teachings with dualistic concepts would only distract us from their essential meaning. We must take up the entire path as an interconnected entity of which every single part is given equal importance.

This is actually the true meaning of the word "Dzogchen," which can be translated literally as "the great perfection." Some people interpret this to mean that the nature of mind is perfect, or that the realization gained from the Teachings is perfect, and these things may also be true. But actually, Dzogchen is perfect because it is all-inclusive; it is the totality of the path that leads one to realization.

Rather than present the Dharma as a linear path as is often done in many foundational texts, I would instead like to present it here as three facets of an interrelated system whose parts must be practiced simultaneously if they are to lead to the perfect result.

These three facets are the Outer, Inner, and Secret Teachings, which are distinguished as separate elements only by the cognitive construct of words, and which completely encompass the wisdom of Tibetan Buddhism. But before I go any further, let me tell you about some of my own experiences with the Union of Dzogchen and Bodhichitta.

From the time I was born, my parents and I lived with a Dzogchen yogi called "Lama Chupur." He was the kind of yogi we call a drubtob in Tibetan, or in Sanskrit a siddha, or great adept-a yogi who has realized the view of Dzogchen and reached the stage of magical accomplishment.

In fact, Lama Chupur's name means "flying over water," and he was given that name after he was seen flying over a wide river near my village. He was the kind of yogi who had spent his whole life wandering around Tibet in search of the Teachings, and he had been the heart student (in other words, had received the entirety of his masters' knowledge and Teachings on realizing the nature of mind) of two of the greatest drubtob masters of his time. So maybe that can give you an idea of what kind of yogi Lama Chupur was.

Lama Chupur came to live in my village after the changes in Tibet. My parents were his students. He recognized me as a tulku (reincarnate Lama) from a young age, after which he raised me as both his child and his student.

I spent my childhood days in his constant presence, witnessing him and taking instruction from him. I remember that at first glance he did not seem to be meditating on anything special at all. When he gave Teachings, as he often did to the many pilgrims and village people who came to see him, he always gave Teachings on how to generate Bodhichitta and never even mentioned the Secret Teachings.

There was a kindness about him that is very difficult to convey with words. He had a marvelously good heart that marked you indelibly whenever you were with him.

Although his words and his ordinary appearance suggested that he was meditating solely on Bodhichitta, sometimes when I looked at him I felt something welling up inside of me.

I could tell instinctively by his gaze and the posture he assumed, as well as the clear quality of his mind, that his meditation was much deeper than that. It was not until I was older and had begun to study with my own root Lama, as well as other Lamas who were staying in retreat in Tibet, that I realized that Lama Chupur had been practicing the Union of Dzogchen and Bodhichitta.

Lama Chupur's story is not unique. My own root Lama, Khenchen Tsara Dharmakirti Rinpoche, was regarded by many Tibetans as the highest authority on the four sects of Tibetan Buddhism. He is the heart student of more than ten renowned Lamas and is the fourth in an unbroken lineage of heart students of Patrul Rinpoche.

Yet, many people did not realize the profundity of his meditation because of his humble appearance. Up until the time of his passing, he spent most of his time giving Teachings on Bodhichitta and always presented himself as an ordinary practitioner.

But as his heart student who spent more than twenty years under his guidance, I had the chance to experience his transformation. I can say with certainty that I witnessed my own teacher attain the fruit of the Teachings in this very life.

When Tsara Dharmakirti Rinpoche passed away at the age of ninety-two, he attained a sign called "Heart, Tongue, and Eyes," which is one of the signs of highest realization that comes as a result of the Dzogchen Teachings. In fact, it is the same sign that came when the omniscient Longchenpa passed away hundreds of years ago. Of course, I did not know the method my teacher used until he gave me the secret oral instructions of our lineage. It was then that I realized that he, too, relied on the Union of Dzogchen and Bodhichitta.

Finally, Tsara Dharmakirti Rinpoche once told me the story of an ordinary old man who lived in Kham, Tibet. He was a poor man with only the clothes on his back who lived in a stone house near a pilgrimage site that many people would circumambulate.

Nothing at all about this man seemed special. He was so ordinary, in fact, that until he died, no one even knew his name, much less thought of him as a great Dzogchen yogi. Each day this man would get up, beg for food, and then spend the day saying mantras and holding a Prayer Wheel that he slowly turned in circles.

I cannot tell you how shocked his countrymen were when this simple old man attained rainbow body, the sign of one of the highest accomplishments of a Dzogchen practitioner. When my teacher told me this story, I knew once again that the old man's realization had come from practicing the Union of Dzogchen and Bodhichitta.

In my studies, I have read scriptures about yogis who attained the result of the Teachings, but I have also occasionally come across stories of yogis who did not. I always wondered why these yogis did not attain the realization promised by the scriptures even though they spent their whole lives in solitary retreat as they had been instructed.

But as I examined further, I realized that they had neglected to practice the Union of Dzogchen and Bodhichitta and had fallen into the wrong view Thus, it was not their heroic effort that had failed them, but rather the view and style of practice they had undertaken from the outset.

Especially in this day and age, there are many kinds of meditation we can choose to practice. But meditation does not have some inherent quality that promises to rid us of self-attachment, which is the only way we can achieve liberation.

Rather, whether or not we achieve liberation depends solely on the type of meditation we choose to practice and the diligence with which we proceed. Thus, the yogis who did not attain liberation practiced a style of meditation that did not rid them of self-attachment, but rather led them to develop negative habitual tendencies and eventually take a lower rebirth.

Working with the mind is an extremely delicate art; we must be very careful not to make a mistake about what and how we practice.

This text presents my own holistic view of the Teachings, the Union of Dzogchen and Bodhichitta, as passed on to me by my Lamas, as well as developed through my own contemplative practice and study of the Buddhist canon.

In this unprecedented time where so many are able to benefit from practicing the Buddhist Teachings, I urge you to practice the Union of Dzogchen and Bodhichitta and attain the results promised by the Teachings. Pray this text bring benefit to beings everywhere.

-Anyen Rinpoche

The Union of Dzogchen and Bodhichitta

by Anyen Rinpoche

Translated by Allison Graboski

Snow Lion

#wisdom #spirituality #mindfulness #meditation #religion #buddhism #zen #self care #visualization

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

Text

I Hate You, But I Hate Me Too

Genre: Non-idol!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

A/N: This is a bit off path from my regular kind of thing. I wanted to try something different. I was really inspired by the song Hate Me Too by Emily Burns. I feel like this fic is more “adult” (and no I don’t mean smut, that rule is still in place lol) than my others. I hope you like it!

I need you.

Laughter echoed around you as your friends went about their conversations, blissfully unaware of the turmoil boiling inside you. Should you stay? Should you go? Like there was even really a choice.

The last time this happened, you told yourself that you would be strong, that you would pretend that you never saw the stupid text and that you were having too much of a good time with people who cared about you to want to leave. But the pull was always nearly impossible to resist.

You hardly remembered what life was like before you met him. Did you actually make it through Friday nights having fun with your friends without constantly jumping each time your phone buzzed in your pocket? Were you able to go home without disappointment because you didn’t hear from him?

You yearned for those days that you couldn’t remember, like standing in front of an Ansel Adams photograph and longing to be walking along the lakeshore. You had no understanding of what that experience was actually like, but you ached for it anyway.

Often, you searched for a way to sever the cord that kept you tied to him. You searched for a cure, but there didn’t seem to be one. Not for when you were addicted to another human being.

“Hey!”

A napkin made contact with your face, finally pulling you away from the glowing screen of your phone. It took will power – more than you thought you had – but you managed to put your phone down, blacking out the screen so no one would accidentally see the text. You looked at your friend innocently. “Yeah?”

Your friends stared at you with genuine concern. It had been like a switch with you, going from actively being in the conversation to completely silent. This time with your friends, the drinks and dinner, was almost enough to make you completely forget about him. You were having fun again. How quickly the tides turned.

“You kind of spaced out there for a second,” one of your friends explained. She narrowed her eyes at you, tilting her head as if she were examining a confusing, abstract sculpture and a new perspective would give her some enlightenment. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Um, y-” Your phone buzzed, the lit up screen stealing your attention.

Please?

The shattering of your willpower echoed in your ears.

“No, actually, I think the seafood and wine combination was a bad idea,” you lied, already digging out your wallet. Taking out some cash, you put it down on the table and stood up. “I really think I should go home. I’m sorry. I don’t want to ruin your guys’ night.”

“No, no!” One of your other friends exclaimed. “Go home. We’ll be fine. Feel better, okay?”

Her concern was only making your guilt feel worse. Maybe the guilty churning of your stomach would become an actual illness. Then you’d have a true excuse not to go see him.

But as you waved goodbye to your friends and stood outside the restaurant, waiting for your ride to come, the guilt slowly dissolved away. In its place, that familiar buzz of excitement. He’d asked for you. He’d given you the same line he gave every time, this time adding a please. You were so easy.

The car pulled up only two minutes later and you slid into the back, resting your head against the window. Your eyes didn’t focus on anything – not the street lights or the storefronts or the couples along the sidewalk. Your mind, however, was focused on him.

Zhang Yixing was quite possibly the sweetest man you’d ever met. There was nothing special about your clandestine meeting. No meet-cute through spilled coffee or mixed up luggage. He was simply an acquaintance of one of your friends. His smile, though, was enough to draw you in. You could almost say that you had a crush since the very beginning.

The times he appeared to meet up with the group were infrequent and scattered. It didn’t matter, though, your heart still fluttered each time you saw him. And there were times that gave you hope that your feelings weren’t completely one-sided. The looks he would flash your way, the smiles, the light touches. You thought it was the beginning of something wonderful, the kind of love story you could tell your grandchild.

So how did it end up like this?

No, really. You didn’t know.

The first time something happened between you, the two of you had been drinking with the group. It was a blur how the two of you got back to your apartment, but you certainly remembered what happened after you walked through the door. Your high from the encounter, however, did not last long.

You woke up to find Yixing tying up his shoes at the end of your bed. Before you could say anything, he threw you a wink, a smile and left. The sun wasn’t even beginning to peek out yet and he was already gone. Things only spiraled down from there.

No matter how many times you racked your head against a wall, you couldn’t figure out how that one night turned into this constant game. He never sent you good morning texts or asked you how your day was. Weeks could go by with nothing but silence from his end. Then, with no warning or explanation, he would call or text, usually something along the lines of him needing you or that he was sad or lonely, asking you to come cure his ailment. You were so easy he didn’t need to put any effort into reeling you back in. All he had to do was poke at that tiny flame of hope that this might possibly one day become something a little more.

You had the driver stop at the end of the street. A weird habit you’d developed sometime near the beginning of all of this. For some reason, you liked the nuance of walking down the street to the faded blue door. You could take those extra steps to prepare yourself, to calm yourself down. It was better to face him as neutral as possible. You didn’t want him to see the small amount of excitement he brought you, how happy you were when he called for you.

God, you must be so pathetic to him. Like a puppy to its owner, you came running with your tail wagging.

Raising up your fist, you knocked softly against the blue door and waited. The paint was bleached out from the sun. It could use a new coat of paint. New spots where the top coat was chipping had appeared since your last visit.

About a minute the door swung open. Not a single syllable of “hello” was able to get out before you were being pulled into the darkness. Your shoulder blades stung from being shoved into the door, but that was only a minor thought in the back of your head as Yixing covered your lips with his. So soft, so sweet. As quickly and aggressive as he’d pulled you in, his touches were soft, like how you’d hold the person you loved.

If only he actually loved you.

It was three o’clock in the morning and yet you weren’t the least bit tired. Yixing was in the kitchen getting himself a glass of water as you shoved your foot into your boot. The two of you had had a short conversation about your lives lately (mostly prompted by you asking how he was), but it was seemingly over now. By the time you were standing up and slipping into your jacket, Yixing was waiting for you. He saw you to his door, that same intoxicating smile on his face. You never spent the night. That was one of the unspoken rules between the two of you. They were never written down or even verbally agreed upon; they simply were met.

You didn’t spend the night. He contacted you first. You didn’t tell your friends about him. You always came over to his place.

Most of them were for his convenience, but it wasn’t like you argued or pushed for anything that benefited you. The best thing would be to leave this. What a charming notion.

“Let me know that you got home safe,” he said softly. You never did, but he still said it every time. Acting like he cared was another one of his tricks that you fell for so easily.

Staring at him in the dim light from the street lamps outside - hindered mostly by the heavy curtains in front of the window – you wondered what would happen if you really did text him saying you’d made it back to your place without incident. Would he care? Would he send you a text back or tell you good night? Or would he ignore your message? Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Sure,” you lied. And like he always did, he placed a kiss upon your cheek before opening up the door to the waiting car outside. The place where his lips met your skin still stung, still vibrated from the contact.

“Good night,” he waved before shutting the door behind you.

You hardly looked at the driver as he took you home. You didn’t want to meet his eyes and feel the judgement rolling out of them. What else could be going on when a girl leaves a guy’s place so early in the morning, hair disheveled, guy shirtless, and a glassy look in her gaze?

Up the short porch steps you ran once you were back on solid ground. Your fingers shook as you struggled to find the right key to let you unlock the door. Inside the safety of your own walls where you could be alone, where you could breathe again.

The darkness engulfed you again once your feet hit the carpet of your living room. This time, there was no one waiting for you. There was no one here to embrace you. Only the empty feeling of loneliness was left to crush you.

Taking out your phone, you typed out “Made it safely”. Your eyes flickered to Yixing’s previous texts. You deleted your message and threw your phone across the room. It landed safely on the couch, the only good thing to happen to you tonight.

Under the heel of all your poor decisions, you crumbled to the floor. You’d managed to hold yourself together the whole way home, but now you let it all out, the sounds of your sobs your only company.

It’d been two weeks since you heard from Yixing. Surprisingly, you were doing fine. You hadn’t cried since that night. Once your tears dried up, you picked yourself up, stripped out of your clothes and fell asleep alone in your bed of cold sheets.

Now you were okay. You weren’t sure what happened that night, but something in you snapped. You didn’t constantly check your phone or think about him or fight with yourself on whether or not to contact him. Instead, you focused on work. You spent more time with your friends. You didn’t fake an illness or lock yourself up night after night in your apartment, coming up with excuses not to join anyone for dinner or a movie. You were living, like you were meant to be.

At the moment, you were wandering through a clothing store, stopping and looking at any piece that caught your eye. Your friend was complaining about her boss while she, too, shifted through the round rack of shirts.

“It’s just so annoying,” your friend grumbled as she picked up a shirt, held it against herself and then put it back, shaking her head. “Like, if you’re in charge, you shouldn’t say one thing is the standard policy and then go change your mind on every account. How are we supposed to accomplish anything that way?”

“Have you said anything about it?” you asked.

“No. Right now, venting about it is easier. But soon I’m go- hey, Yixing!”

You froze, a sheet of ice covering you almost instantaneously, seeping down into your veins. How could he be here? Why was he here?

“Hi!” His voice was cheerful, the exact opposite of how you were feeling.

Slowly, you turned around to face him. There was no smile on your face, especially after you caught his. It was the same polite, distant yet dimpled smile. The kind that was given to acquaintances, not someone you knew intimately. And he did know you, no matter how hard he tried to pretend otherwise. He knew every inch of your skin. He knew who you were when everything else was stripped away. The things you’d confessed to him, revealed to him before your nights together was over. That smile that kept up the wall was a betrayal you couldn’t even begin to verbalize.

“Hi, (y/n),” he greeted.

You waved halfheartedly. “Hey.”

Your friend sent you a curious look given your sudden change in demeanor, but she shrugged her curiosity away. “What are you up to, Yixing?”

“Just out buying a gift,” he said mysteriously.

“Ooo, for a girl,” your friend teased. An innocent enough joke. To you, though, it was just another twist in the knife.

“No, no,” Yixing laughed. “For my mom.”

You hated his laugh.

No, you didn’t. You loved it. The childlike way the giggles would vibrate in his throat, the way his nose scrunched and his smile grew to reveal the second, hidden dimple on his other cheek. It lit him up like the famous New York City New Year’s Eve ball that dropped at midnight. Truly, he might even shine brighter.

What you really hated was yourself. You hated how much you loved the details of him. The way he titled his head when he was listening intently. The strange way his face hardened and sharpened when he frowned or put tension in his forehead. As soon as he smiled again, everything softened, rounding out his features into that boy-next-door look that fit him so well.

You loved the expressions on his face when he was excited or surprised. His eyes would grow big and he’d look around in disbelief. When he cooked, he seemed so relaxed and concentrated at the same time. While his food wasn’t anything worth wild, you counted yourself lucky that you were able to experience a dinner or two made by him.

This boy could be playful, teasing in ways that weren’t cruel. Sometimes when you told a joke, it took him a minute or two before he would get it. The gradual transition in his features as the answer dawned on him was one you could watch for an eternity.

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” your friend smiled.

“It’s her birthday soon,” Yixing said. He kept his attention on your friend as if you weren’t even there.

“I’m going to run to the restroom real quick.” You didn’t even wait to see if your friend caught your lame excuse to get out of there. You needed to leave. Thinking about him in that way… well, you didn’t want to have a breakdown in the middle of the t-shirt section. You didn’t give Yixing a second glance as you left the store.

It took you a few minutes to find the bathrooms. In this mall they were located down a somewhat eerie hallway, but for once you weren’t concerned about that factor. You just needed a place to hide out. As rude as it was, you took the biggest stall, locking the flimsy door and sliding down to the floor.

You couldn’t keep going on like this. This wasn’t fair to you. While he could freely go about his day without the slightest bit of harm, you were constantly hurting. Even though you could numb the pain, it always came back, burning you worse than before.

There was no other choice. You had to let him go. This hatred that resided in your heart, you were afraid it just might kill you.

Your friend was a little perturbed at your sudden disappearing act, but after a few apologies on your end and an excuse that everyone with a uterus could understand, she forgave you. The two of you caught dinner at one of the nearby restaurants that served generic “feel good” food, but it didn’t do much in the ways of comforting you.

In the back of your mind you were trying to decide how to break away from Yixing. Should you simply block his number? Go to his place and tell him face to face?

Turned out, you didn’t have to make that decision as he made it for you.

You were almost ready for bed. At this point, you were simply procrastinating the actually going to sleep part. Tucked into the corner of your couch with your legs folded under you, you scrolled through different social medias. Nothing of interest was happening so you locked the screen, finally ready to head to bed.

Then it happened.

The phone rang in your hand. You stared at the device as it vibrated that familiar pattern, the one that you’d set specifically for him. The sensation ran through your fingers, up your arm, and into your heart. In turn, the muscle swelled, being torn in two. Answer. Don’t answer. Answer. Don’t answer.

The call flipped over to voicemail. You let out the breath you’d been holding, leaning your head back on the couch. You did it. You actually made yourself not answer his call. But the internal celebration didn’t last long before he was calling again. He had never done that in the past – called you back to back – so your self-control was suddenly depleted.

Your thumb swiped on the green icon.

“Hello?”

A sigh of relief. “Hey.”

You didn’t reply.

“(y/n)?”

This time you did reply. “Yeah?”

“I’ve missed you.”

No. Don’t do that. Please, don’t say that.

“I realized that… when I saw you today. Can I see you again?”

Your throat swelled as you tried to keep your composure. Taking the phone away from your ear, you held it against your forehead. You concentrated on your breathing, keeping it even, keeping it silent. You couldn’t let him know that he was breaking you.

“I can’t.” You were surprised that you were able to find those words in your vocabulary when you put the phone back against your ear. You thought they didn’t exist when it came to him. It turned out, you really were getting stronger.

“Oh.” At least there was a small amount of disappointment in his voice. “Are you… with someone?”

“No,” you answered honestly. “I just can’t keep doing this.”

A few moments of silence on his end went by before he asked, “What do you mean?”

Taking a deep breath, you unfurled the words that had lingered too long inside. “I can’t keep waiting around for you to call. I can’t keep hoping that maybe someday you’ll see me more than just something to help you feel less lonely. Because I’m lonelier than ever. I can’t keep letting you break my heart. Soon I won’t have anything less. So, no, Yixing, I can’t come over. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever again. I’m sorry.”

“(y/n), wait-”

You hung up quickly, before he could honey up the words it would take to pull you back in. With shaking hands, you went through the motions it would take to block his number. He was out of your life for good now.

So, why didn’t you feel relieved?

It’d been nearly a month since you said goodbye to Yixing. There were still nights where silent tears would roll down your cheeks. There were still times you would check your phone for missed calls or unread text messages, forgetting that you’d block any communication he could have with you. You were still weak, but as time went on, you found that picking up the pieces of your broken heart was becoming easier. The shards didn’t leave behind as many cuts on your fingers. Soon, you might be whole again, healed.

Your friends had noticed a change in you, too. You were happier, they said. When they asked what changed, you simply shrugged and shook your head. “It just happened, I guess.”

Tonight, you could really say that you were happy.

You were looking forward to a night out, hopping from bar to bar with your friends in tow. As you got ready, you found yourself smiling. There were no worries as to who you might run into or what excuse you might need to make a quick getaway. The rideshare app on your phone was only to be used to get you from different establishments, not anyone’s residence but your own. The blue door no longer haunted your dreams. You weren’t completely okay. You weren’t completely over it. That would take time. But you were hating yourself a little less. You were stronger than you thought. And that was worth smiling about.

A majority of your friends were already at the bar, given the amount of “Where are you?!” texts you’d received. You were quietly laughing at the group chat as you walked inside. They were all together and yet they still insisted on texting you separately. Following their directions, you made your way to the back of the bar where they said they were seated. But it wasn’t just your friends waiting for you.

Yixing was standing beside your mutual friend who was seated at the table. He seemed fine, engaging in conversation as if he wasn’t affected by your absence at all. Just like normal.

So focused on him, you didn’t see the poor waiter coming towards you with a tray of empty glasses until it was too late. The glass toppled down to the floor, the shattering sounds catching everyone’s attention.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Immediately, you bent down to help the waiter with the mess you’d made. He tried to tell you that it was alright and that you didn’t need to help, but you didn’t listen.

A third pair of familiar hands came into view.

Knowing that it was the wrong thing to do, you looked up anyway. When your eyes met Yixing’s, a half smile grew on his face. Your heart was thumping hard in your chest, so much so that it was nearly painful. Each breath became shallower and your world started to tilt back and forth. Quickly, straightening up, you ran for the door, barely missing other patrons and waiters on the way out.

“(y/n), wait!”

You’d scarcely hit the pavement of the sidewalk when a hand caught yours, dragging you over to a more secluded area. As soon as he stopped, you yanked your hand out Yixing’s. The last thing you needed was take that contact and turn into something more.

“Please, just talk to me,” he begged.

“No,” you shook your head viciously. “We already talked. I told you. I can’t do this anymore.” You tried to walk away, but he jumped in front of you, blocking your path.

“I don’t want to do that anymore either.”

You stood there for a second or two, trying to decipher what he could possibly mean. “I don’t understand.”

He reached out and took your hand in his. “When I said I missed you, I meant it. I promise, I’ll do better this time around.”

“Do better?” you scoffed, pulling your hand back once again. He tried to hold on, but you were able to break his grip. “How do you plan on that? Making it a once a week thing instead of every once in a while? No, thank you. I meant it when I said I can’t do this anymore. I hate you. But what’s worse is how much I hated myself. How much I still hate me even when I thought I was getting over it. Because just when I thought I was getting over you, this happens. And I’m right back in that place. All I want is to tell you yes. But that’s not fair to me.”

Yixing blinked, letting your words sink in as his eyes slowly fell to the ground off to the side. “Please, don’t hate me. I care about you. I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

“It doesn’t matter, because you did it anyway.”

“Please, give me another chance. I want to be with you.” He stepped closer to you, meeting your eyes. He brought his hand up to your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made you lean into his touch. You thought of all those times he looked at you like you were something special, worth something to him.

But that was a dangerous road that led you here in the first place.

You wrapped your fingers around Yixing’s hand and gently pushed it away. “I need to think about it.” You still couldn’t tell him no. So, this was a compromise with yourself.

He seemed to accept that answer, nodding. “When you make up your mind… even if it’s to tell me to go to hell…you know where I’ll be.”

You nodded back. Then, before you completely broke down, you walked away.

For what seemed like hours you wandered around the streets, careful stay in the more populated, well lit areas while you tried to work through your own thoughts.

Did he really mean what he said? Did he really want to be with you?

He seemed sincere. Almost as broken as you were.

Back and forth the scales went, weighing the good against the bad. The heaviest consequence was your heart. The tape holding the pieces together was already beginning to peel away. You weren’t sure how much longer it would hold now that you’d seen him again. This promise being dangled in front of you… it was too good to be true. But you weren’t walking away like you should have. That would be the smart thing to do. The right thing. Each time you closed your eyes, however, you say the desperation in his face. In your ears, his pleas played over and over again.

Your feet made the decision for you.

At the end of his street, you debated. Your feet had brought you here without you realizing it so did that mean this was what your heart wanted? Were you willing to give it away completely? The chances of the same pattern beginning again were high, astronomically so.

You took a step. And then another. Again. And again. You didn’t even try to stop until you were outside his door. That blue door that used to mock you with its depressing color was now welcoming you with open arms. Your fist raised in the air, you knocked on the door, waiting patiently. The quick footsteps on the other side matched the rhythm of your heart, reigniting the hope inside.

“(y/n).”

#exo #zhang yixing #lay #yixing x reader #lay x reader #exo images #exo scenarios #exo one shot #angst #emily burns #Hate Me Too #I Hate You But I Hate Me Too

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 years

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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

January 3, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

Today’s news starts yesterday, when Trump called Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger to demand he overturn the results of the presidential election in Georgia and deliver the state to Trump. Raffensperger apparently recorded the call, keeping it handy in case Trump misrepresented it publicly. This morning, Trump did exactly that, tweeting: “I spoke to Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger yesterday about Fulton County and voter fraud in Georgia. He was unwilling, or unable, to answer questions such as the ‘ballots under table’ scam, ballot destruction, out of state ‘voters’, dead voters, and more. He has no clue!” Raffensperger retweeted the president’s accusation with the comment: “Respectfully, President Trump: What you're saying is not true. The truth will come out[.]”

The Atlanta Journal-Constitution and the Washington Post both obtained a recording of the conversation and published news of the call this afternoon, revealing that Trump had asked Raffensperger to “find” the 11,800 votes Trump needed to win Georgia. In the hour-long call, the president rambled through the conspiracy theories about the election—all of which have been debunked—seeming to believe them. He insisted that there was simply no way he could have lost in Georgia, and cited the size of his rallies there as proof. Trump asked Raffensperger to adjust Georgia’s vote to give the election to Trump by a single vote, telling him that he could just say that he had recalculated.

Trump made vague threats against Raffensperger and the secretary of state’s general counsel Ryan Germany, suggesting that their unwillingness to find the ballots Trump insists are missing puts them at risk for criminal charges. He bullied them—talking over them and at one point telling Raffensperger “only a child” could believe the vote counting was fair-- and warned them that it would be their fault if the Republican candidates lost in the January 5 runoff election since “a lot of Republicans are going to vote negative, because they hate what you did to the president…. And you would be respected, really respected, if this can be straightened out before the election.”

After running through all the conspiracy theories and suggesting that Raffensperger and Germany might face criminal charges, Trump said: “So what are we going to do here folks? I only need 11,000 votes. Fellas, I need 11,000 votes. Give me a break.”

Joining Trump on the call were White House Chief of Staff Mark Meadows; lawyer Cleta Mitchell, a prominent right-wing lawyer who had managed until now to keep her participation in Trump’s efforts to overturn the election quiet; and lawyer Kurt Hilbert. Meadows was more reasonable than Trump, but he, too, asked Raffensperger “to look at some of these allegations to find a path forward that’s less litigious.” (Raffensperger replied: “[w]e don’t agree that you have won.”)

Mitchell and Hilbert backed Trump and Meadows in their repeated demand for information about voters, including their voter IDs and registrations. This is voter data to which, by law, they cannot have access. (When Germany answered that the state is prohibited from sharing that information, Trump retorted: “Well, you have to.”)

University of Georgia Law Professor Anthony Michael Kreis told Politico reporters Allie Bice, Kyle Cheney, Anita Kumar, and Zach Montellaro that it is against the law in Georgia for anyone to “solicit” or “request” election fraud. “There’s just no way that… he has not violated this law,” Kreis said. Michael R. Bromwich, former inspector general of the Department of Justice, tweeted that “unless there are portions of the tape that somehow negate criminal intent,” Trump’s “best defense would be insanity.”

David Shafer, the chair of the Georgia Republican Party, tried to excuse this extraordinary conversation by tweeting that the phone call had been a “confidential settlement discussion” of two lawsuits Trump has filed against Raffensperger, and that the audio version the Washington Post published was “heavily edited and omits the stipulation that all discussions were for the purpose of settling litigation and confidential under federal and state law.”

Marc E. Elias, a lawyer leading the Biden team’s litigation efforts to counter Trump’s lawsuits over the election, knocked that explanation flat. “Trump and his allies have lost 60 post-election lawsuits, including several in GA,” he tweeted. “There are no cases that could have plausibly been the subject of settlement discussion. Oh, and I represent parties in all of those cases, so I would have had to be on the phone as well. I wasn't.”

President Richard M. Nixon resigned after his people orchestrated an attempt to bug the Democratic National Committee headquarters in the Watergate Hotel in Washington, D.C., before the 1972 election, and then covered up that burglary. What is on this recording makes the Watergate scandal look quaint. President Trump, his chief of staff, and two of his lawyers have been recorded pressuring state authorities to change vote counts so they can steal an American election. Especially considering that we know Trump pressured Ukraine President Volodymyr Zelensky to help him win in 2020, we have to assume this is not the only call like this he has made in the last several weeks.

The only more thorough attack on our democracy would involve the military and, not coincidentally, tonight all ten living former defense secretaries, including two who served under Trump, signed a letter to the Washington Post reiterating that the military should not be involved in determining the outcome of an election. They warned that any efforts to involve the military in an election dispute “would take us into dangerous, unlawful and unconstitutional territory,” and noted that any civilian or military official who either directs or carries out an order to get involved in an election “would be accountable, including potentially facing criminal penalties, for the grave consequences of their actions on our republic.”

This bombshell recording changes political calculations across the board.

Republicans have been lining up either for or against the president, showing their loyalty by backing his attempt to overturn the results of the 2020 election. More than 100 House members have said they would contest Congress’s January 6 counting of the electoral votes from states Trump continues, without evidence, to claim he won. On December 30, Senator Josh Hawley (R-MO) agreed to join them, at least for the state of Pennsylvania. Then, yesterday, twelve senators, led by Ted Cruz (R-TX) said they would reject the votes from all the contested states and demand an audit of the election results there. They don’t expect to change the election—the results are clear—but lawmakers backing Trump are hoping to court his voters for future elections as they try to step into the vacuum his removal from office will create.

It’s a cynical and dangerous position, and standing against them are lawmakers like Senator Mitt Romney (R-UT) and Senator Ben Sasse (R-NE), who note that the 2020 election was overwhelming and clean, and that Trump is attacking the very basis of democratic government as he tries to change the outcome of it. They are hoping to pull the Republican Party away from Trump and his followers.

The struggle between the two factions was out in the open by yesterday, and shortly before the news of the recording dropped, two Republican leaders sided against the lawmakers planning to contest the counting of the electoral votes. House of Representatives Conference Chair Liz Cheney (R-WY), who is responsible for electing the House Republican leadership and managing committee assignments and who is therefore very powerful, sent a 21-page memo to her colleagues warning that such a plan would set a dangerous precedent, enabling Congress, rather than the states, to choose the president. She concluded: [B]oth the clear text of the Constitution and the Electoral Count Act [of 1887] compel the same conclusion—there is no appropriate basis to object to the electors from any of the six states at issue.”

Former Speaker of the House Paul Ryan (R-WI) also issued a statement condemning the plan. "It is difficult to conceive of a more anti-democratic and anti-conservative act than a federal intervention to overturn the results of state-certified elections and disenfranchise millions of Americans," he wrote.

These two defections from the Trump camp were not, perhaps, surprises, but the news of this extraordinary recording now offers an opening for others to slide away from Trump. Senator Tom Cotton (R-AR), who has been a staunch supporter of the president but who seems to be trying to position himself for a presidential run in 2024, tonight also rejected his colleagues’ plan to challenge the electoral count on Wednesday. His statement split the difference between the two Republican factions. He reiterated many of the Trump camp’s talking points but, like Cheney, objected to their plan to overturn the election in Congress on the grounds that the last thing conservatives, who object to the power of the federal government, should want is a stronger Congress. Cotton's defection is a sign that the recording is undermining Trump's position.

If there is one good thing for the president in all this, it is that this stunning news has taken the media focus off the coronavirus, at least for a few hours. More than 350,000 Americans have now died of Covid-19; more than 20 million Americans have been infected. “Cases are rising, hospitalizations are increasing, deaths are increasing,” Dr. Henry Walke of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention told Tim Stelloh of NBC News. CDC Director Robert Redfield agreed, adding that the winter months “are going to be the most difficult time in the public health history of this nation.”

—-

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Letters From An American #Heather Cox Richardson #political #politics 2020 #corrupt GOP #criminal GOP #GOP Coup attempt

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arinaco · 4 years

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Keith and Shiro: The Hero’s Journey

Translated and edited by @Nadezhda932

Once I was asked if I would write a meta about Keith or Shiro, and then I refused, because their story at that moment seemed to me simple and clear. But since then, a certain amount of nuance has accumulated that could be written about, so I decided to write a meta.

Warning – the topic of Sheith won’t be raised. All the ships are respected here, but in order to avoid any controversy, in this meta the relationship between Shiro and Keith will be considered exclusively in the context that was declared by the series itself, where Shiro became like an older brother for Keith.

Shiro and Keith’s storylines are closely related, so it’s pointless to look at them separately. Moreover, if Keith’s story is in many ways the standard story of a teenager growing up, then Shiro’s story touches on a completely different – not childish – question.

And I’ll start with the most scandalous – if I may say so – part of Shiro’s storyline. His flashbacks in S7. In the interviews, EPs said they planned to introduce these flashbacks much earlier, but many didn’t believe them. And I’ll start with them because they have an important storyline for Shiro in S8, and most likely one of the reasons why Shiro’s story arc was practically cut out there.

To answer the question of whether these flashbacks were inserted at the last moment, we need to go right back to the first seasons to remember the strange behavior of Shiro, the weirdness of which passed us by, because at that moment there was no clear explanation.

In S1, Shiro appeared before us as a young strong man, mature and confident in his professionalism. He’s almost 30, and this is the very age when a military man can finally begin to count on some serious shoulder straps and a promotion. And suddenly this young man begins to talk with Keith that he may lead the paladins instead of Shiro. As if he was about to retire and needed someone to replace him, although future successors of people at this age usually command an army of plush toys.

I want you to lead Voltron.

After being wounded, Shiro remembered that he was mortal… and that death was very close to him

Of course, the situation was difficult and there was a constant risk, but only Shiro prepared a successor in advance… as if he was about to die. Why did the young man have so many thoughts about death? And here I’ll ask you to remember the plot of flashbacks from S7. Because it’s only in the flashbacks of S7 where we find out… that Shiro was really going to die.

He was ill. Terminally ill. And he knew that soon the very time would come when he lay down in a hospital bed and would never leave its walls again. Yes, the Galra, who had big plans for their new champion, cured the disease, but Shiro didn’t know about it.

And this can serve as the main proof that yes – the flashbacks were indeed planned initially. And only the creators of the series know why they were introduced to the series so late. And they must be taken into account when we talk about Shiro’s storyline, as well as his relationship with Adam.

So where does Shiro’s journey actually begin? It’s unknown when exactly Shiro found out about his illness. Perhaps already in adulthood, or perhaps he even experienced difficulties when entering the Garrison, because the selection for pilots in terms of health has always been very strict. The main thing is different – how Shiro reacted to his illness. He turned out to be one of those people who decided that if they were destined to burn like a match, then they had to shine so as to eclipse the supernova. The entire closet in his house is filled with commemorative awards and diplomas; he’s called the best pilot of the Garrison in plain text. And that’s why his close friend, Professor Holt, decided to take him to Kerberos – this was a gift before his death. At that time, this would probably have been the highest achievement for a space pilot. The title of the discoverer of deep space for planet Earth. Gagarin of a new era, who, by the way, also died young – at 34.

Clear your mind. Now imagine your Lion.

At the same time, of course, it should be noted that Shiro as a whole was a selfless person, striving to take care of others. Perhaps it was a way for him to come to terms with impending death – to live for others, forgetting about himself. The presence of the disease made him a person who doesn’t think about his future and believes that his personal problems don’t matter. If he dies soon anyway, what’s the difference?

There was a difference, though not for Shiro himself. Adam is the very best friend of the hero who always remains in the shadows, behind his back. They started as co-pilots, friends and associates. They worked in one team. Pilots often work in pairs to duplicate each other, and Adam was the one to back Shiro on combat missions. And so their photo together was in the same closet where the awards that Shiro had so eagerly sought to receive were located.

And to better understand Adam… how do you think, who in this situation made sure that Shiro took pills on time, followed the regimen and went to the doctors? Despite the fact that Shiro chose the path of absolutely not giving a damn about his life.

I think the answer is obvious.

While Shiro dedicated his life to the stars and serving the community, Adam dedicated his life to caring for Shiro. And from a moral point of view, this is a very difficult role: to take care of an incurable patient, to take him to hospitals, to monitor his condition, to look at disappointing forecasts with despair, but still continue to fight the disease, winning if not a year, then at least a month… Shiro told Keith that he had only a year or two left, but I think Adam could have given more accurate numbers.

And the problem with this situation is that… Shiro didn’t look back. Only forward, only to the stars. And Adam couldn’t help but start wondering how much Shiro appreciated his efforts. Shiro had a couple of years of normal life left, and Adam wanted them to spend these years together, but then a dangerous, though truly starry peak appeared on the horizon, and of course, Shiro decided to conquer it, even though the high command spoke out against it…

But this is more than a mission, this is your life at stake.

And… Adam just couldn’t stand it. All these years he obediently covered his back, but now Shiro was going on a solo mission, and if something happened, Adam wouldn’t even have anything to bury. So he just left. Broken. It’s very hard to love and care for someone if you don’t feel the same in return.

Takashi, how important am I to you?

How did Shiro feel about this? Perhaps, at that particular moment, he even thought that it would be better this way, because Adam one way or another would have to continue to live without him. Being a selfless person, he probably wanted Adam to be happy after his death, and in order to move on, the dead must be left in the past.

I’m going on a mission.

It didn’t even occur to him that Adam would fulfill his promise in the most literal sense. And that the very question «How important am I to you?» would remain unanswered.

This was the starting point of his journey. The journey of a person who, due to illness, began to regard his life and problems as something insignificant. A person who’s used to devaluing his personal needs and health. And it’s the question of depreciation that runs like a red thread throughout his entire storyline.

Only… it’s easy to devalue your health and feelings when you’re generally a happy person. Maybe Shiro even wanted to die before becoming a helpless vegetable. Better to die a hero than live bedridden. But then the Galra appeared in his life – the very variable that he couldn’t take into account. And uninvited guests «rewarded» him not only with good health, but also with strong PTSD. After all, Shiro, like all other paladins, including Allura, grew up without war. He didn’t know the war. The difficult tasks that Shiro had to solve in space came from an aggressive environment, not from aggressive neighbors. The last war on Earth took place long before his birth.

And Shiro was really shocked when he met the Galra. «We’re unarmed, what are you doing?» – quite a classic reaction of a person who lived in a prosperous, peaceful society. There were thousands of them – boys who, from their usual peaceful environment, unexpectedly went to war, and then returned as crippled combatants. And PTSD in Shiro’s situation is a tragic, but quite natural development of events.

If you open some serious scientific text on PTSD (and I found one, not even a very old one – 2015 edition), then it’ll be written there that one of the main problems of sufferers of PTSD is that they don’t perceive symptoms as one whole and just don’t understand that they need help. And a man like Shiro thought that amnesia, flashbacks and nightmares were his own problem, which shouldn’t prevent him from playing the important role of leader and nanny of other paladins. No, under favorable conditions, PTSD can really go away on its own – new emotions and positive experience repeatedly assure a person that now everything will be fine, and after a certain time his psyche relaxes. But Shiro didn’t have such conditions. He sharply turned out to be the most important and eldest in the company of children, and his task was not to go into space to conduct experiments, but to stop the aggression of a huge empire. And his PTSD from the acute phase just turned into a chronic one.

And here we need to briefly recall how PTSD affects a person. PTSD is a state when tragedy doesn’t let go, when a person continues to cycle through events, and as a result begins to fear their repetition. And he spends all his efforts to prevent this from happening. The simplest case: I was bitten by a dog – so I’ll avoid all dogs. By keeping my distance, I’ll be safe.

And all of Shiro’s changes – his desire to control the situation, his bitterness throughout the series – it all grows out of this. And that’s not even considering the influence of Haggar. Ever wonder why the clone had the memory of the real Shiro? Because Haggar thrust her fingers into Shiro’s mind and didn’t want to let go. As she appropriated the souls of the old paladins, so she did with Shiro, and then used him to protect herself from the White Lion. Only in S7 Allura managed to rid Shiro of the last fragments of this influence.

I won’t listen to you!

Are you saying this to Sendak or to your memory?

Fortunately, Keith was next to Shiro. At the time of their first acquaintance, Keith was still a child whom Shiro took into care. Shiro saw in him that very problematic teen who needed support, and naturally he couldn’t pass by. Under his leadership, Keith became more balanced and was able to reveal his pilot talent. Shiro saw potential in him and wanted to help Keith channel his energies in a positive direction.

Keith, being a lonely child and an orphan, saw Shiro as his only close person and naturally couldn’t agree that Shiro’s health and well-being were something unimportant and unnecessary. He was ready to tear his veins in order to save the only semblance of a family that he had, and thus repeatedly proved to Shiro that yes, Shiro was important, that yes, he must live, because his life was valuable even without victories and awards. Keith literally forced Shiro to accept help, forced him to put up with the fact that Shiro couldn’t always control the situation. Keith helped Shiro learn to rely on others again.

And that’s why they win Sendak together. Sendak has been Shiro’s personal enemy since the first episode, but the truth is, alas, that Sendak and Shiro are fighters of different weight classes. Sendak is more than ten thousand years old, he’s a Galra from the days of old Daibazaal, he was trained personally by Zarkon. There were only three fighters of this level in the universe at that time, and, unfortunately, Shiro wasn’t included in this three. And Lotor wasn’t allowed to kill Sendak, otherwise it would have been a shame that Lotor had killed all the main enemies of the paladins.

Shiro objectively couldn’t defeat Sendak alone. And that’s why Shiro killed Sendak together with Keith – Shiro accepted his help and said not «How many times will you save me again?», but a simple «Thank you».

But then… after S7 everything goes downhill. And scraps of Shiro’s story arc stick out like torn threads. And this applies to two aspects:

Shiro’s personal life;

his being a paladin;

First, I’ll tell you about him as a paladin. Despite the fact that Shiro is no longer a Black Paladin, the last episodes of S8 clearly show us that he’s still a paladin. His eyes also shine along with everyone else, and… against a WHITE background. And the background at that moment was the color of the paladin’s Lion.

Because Shiro became a White Paladin, although this has never been officially confirmed. Most likely, this moment fell under the carving knife along with many other cut scenes. But we still can trace the general outline of this story arc.

And here we need to remember the Alteans and their culture. The Alteans had a real cult of sacrifice, most likely as a consequence of the potential danger of the alchemists (say hello to Honerva). Therefore, the test on Oriande isn’t a check on whether you’re good or bad, but a check on the conformity of belonging to the Altean culture.

Stage 1 is a pass from Honerva’s storage. Perhaps this pass was given to every alchemist without any explanation of how to use it. The alchemist had to guess it, but Honerva for some reason couldn’t. And only an Altean could get such a pass.

Stage 2 is checking basic knowledge. In the space age, the ability to use the Teludav was most likely a must-have for any alchemist.

Stage 3 is the most important. White Lion, testing not your moral qualities, but your belonging to the culture of the Alteans. Understanding the cult of sacrifice. That’s why Lotor didn’t pass this stage – his upbringing is different. A true Galra must not die for his homeland, he must make his enemies die for their own.

But Shiro, one might say, is the ideal member of this cult. Pass a sea of quintessence through yourself so that Professor Holt can hack the ship? Yes, please, he doesn’t mind. The White Lion appreciated that. More precisely, the White Lion appreciated Shiro even earlier, when Honerva used Shiro’s soul to pass the trial. And Shiro… actually passed the trial of sacrifice in her place. The White Lion saw him and realized that Shiro was really selfless to the extent that a true Altean should be selfless.

And Atlas didn’t transform into a robot because the brilliant Professor Holt was able to build a second Voltron. It happenned because the White Lion came and said to the other Lions: «Hold my beer, now I’ll show you how to save the universe». By sacrificing himself, Shiro initiated himself as a White Paladin, and combined with the Castle’s crystal this allowed him to summon the Lion to the Atlas.

A very important nuance in fact. But it flies past us, forcing us to wonder how a huge bucket of nuts from the backward Earth managed to catch up with the creation of King Alfor.

The loss of the second aspect of Shiro’s storyline was so great that couldn’t be unnoticed. Shiro abruptly lost touch with other paladins, and his behavior became authoritarian and aggressive. As if as soon as Shiro sat in the admiral’s chair, power hit him in the head.

And then at the end of the story, he unexpectedly quits his job and marries a random character. I’m sorry, what?! O_o

For unknown reasons, someone abruptly decided to delete Shiro’s line from the story, due to which the character completely lost the logic of his behavior. And we can only guess what was really there, armed with common sense and a reference book on psychology.

The most obvious line that was cut (of which I’m 90% sure) is the line of Adam’s death. When Shiro learns about Adam’s death in S7, he remembers his name with great anguish. Until then, the thought that Adam might die before him seemed inconceivable to Shiro. And here he was left alone with the very last question, to which he never gave an answer. And when Shiro says that «their deaths won’t be in vain», he speaks first of all about Adam. And he rushes into space «to do good» with thoughts of Adam. Despite the fact that the Galra Empire is no longer there, there’s no one to fight with. Only to catch small associations throughout the universe that do no more harm than ordinary pirates, and in most cases they just try to survive. Shiro in S8 behaves exactly like Allura in S1, who shook her fist and threatened all Galra with revenge in a desire to fulfill the command of her deceased father and save the universe.

Adam…

He never told Adam that he was really important to him, and tried to express these words with his actions. And against the background of this grief, which remained unmourned in the series, the wedding looks weird. He didn’t refuse Kerberos mission for the sake of Adam, but gave up his life’s work for the sake of the first comer.

All Shiro’s experiences, all his pain were simply put under the knife, as if it never existed. As a result, we got a character whose behavior changed dramatically, as if instead of Shiro there’s again another clone.

And if you evaluate the arc from the point of common sense, Shiro should have shared his grief with his friends. With Keith at least. Express it, rather than go through this stress alone. Otherwise, it turns out that Shiro’s entire storyline was just about nothing. So many times Keith saved him, but he still continued to keep all the problems in himself, not telling anyone about them.

It truly feels like the light has gone out in our lives

The rest of the storylines have no real confirmation, except for theories, so I won’t describe them. Moreover, against the background of the main experience mentioned above, they look less significant and practically don’t affect the plot.

The epilogue of Shiro in the original script, most likely, was supposed to be a significant political position, but a peacemaker, not an aggressor. The conduct of diplomatic negotiations between the races, which flashed for a couple of seconds, fits well into this image.

Now let’s talk about Keith. It’s even sadder with the end of his arc, because it’s completely lost. And as a result, instead of normal development, Keith sharply turned into Marty Stu. And I have to admit, probably the Keith’s storyline in S8 is what comes second on my list called «Things That Piss Me Off In This Season». Only Romelle’s storyline pisses me off more than Keith’s one. And the reasons why it pisses me off can be divided into two categories:

Category 1 – Keith as a «good Galra»

Category 2 – Keith as a «great leader»

I don’t like the first one for one simple reason: Keith is not a Galra. Because belonging to a people isn’t determined by a set of genes. Because any nation is primarily a language, culture and history. When an invader wants to demonstrate his power, he forbids the people to speak their native language. And the fact that Keith is very similar to his mom doesn’t make him a Galra. Keith was born on Earth, raised on Earth and is psychologically an Earthling. He’s an Earthling with Galran blood, nothing more, nothing less. And that’s why, when he tells Lahn that he’s also a Galra, Lahn replies something like «You don’t say» with obvious skepticism in his voice. Because the Galra are a people with a very ancient culture and their own special collective psychology, and all this can’t simply be inherited through genes. Through genes, only temperament is inherited, and a certain belonging to culture in a person appears only during upbringing. Moreover, in the series we see an example of the fact that no matter how strong the desire to become a part of another culture is, it doesn’t always help. Who is this example? The answer is simple – Lotor.

Lotor has spent his entire life studying the culture of the Alteans, and he’s nearly ten thousand years old. But at the same time he was born among the Galra, was brought up by the Galra and lived according to the principles of the Galra. As a result, Oriande said goodbye to him. Lotor wanted to be part of the Alteans, but he couldn’t – despite the fact that he’s half Altean. Half the blood didn’t help him in any way.

But for some reason, Keith has suddenly become a real «good Galra» just by the wave of a magic wand. Despite the fact that he never showed interest in the Galran culture, and even among the Blades he remained on his own special wave. He felt at home among the Blades not because he was a Galra, but because Galran society was historically formed to be able to live in close groups and get along with each other. And when Keith went to the Blades, they just took him under their wing, and thereby gave him what he needed then. Therefore, this is why Keith felt that he belonged, not because of some mythical voice of blood.

The second category is worth talking about after analyzing Keith’s storyline.

Keith’s storyline is the Hero’s Journey. Almost a classic version. A young man must leave the comfort zone, perform a feat, receive a reward for this feat, and return home matured after the trials he has endured.

The reward for Keith is finding a family, and his trial is becoming a leader. Now remember his epilogue. Do you remember what happened there?

In the epilogue, Keith never appeared with his family – neither with Shiro, nor with Krolia, nor with Kolivan, but he got a chance to take the imperial throne. The trial was turned into a reward, and Lotor’s generals, almost strangers to him, became his circle of friends. Who, by the way, betrayed Lotor, so Keith should watch his back.

It looks so cute, if you forget that Zethrid has problems with aggression, and Ezor is a hidden sadist…

Just because Keith had to become a leader doesn’t mean he wanted to be. The fact that he has assumed responsibilities doesn’t mean that he has dreamed of fulfilling them all his life. But, in order not to be unfounded, let’s take a closer look at how Keith’s personality changes according to the plot.

The Hero’s Journey of Keith

Stage 1. Everyday World

To understand what his Call to Adventure was, as well as the Unknown World and the Trial, you need to look at where it all started.

After the decision was made to change S8, Keith was compared to Lotor, despite the fact that they’re two completely different people with completely different fates. And if Lotor’s childhood was stable and predetermined (from birth he was in the hands of the governess and from birth he knew that his destiny was to rule the Galra), the situation with Keith turned out to be radically opposite. He knew nothing about his mother, except that she was missing. It was even sadder with his father – he died, leaving behind only a dagger. It’s sadder, because it was the father who embodied for Keith the stability and security that every child needs. And although everyone said that Heath died as a hero, Keith, who ended up in an orphanage, didn’t get any easier from this knowledge. The exact period of his father’s death wasn’t named, but most likely Keith at that moment was at least 6-7 years old, mature enough to remember his parent well.

Keith was by nature a classic introverted child (which, by the way, isn’t a Galran character trait at all) who needs his own corner and wants to be able to be alone in this corner. An introvert prefers that his social circle is limited to a certain list of people, and he’s morally stressed by the constant need to be in society, since he’s simply mentally tired of this.

But, alas, the orphanage isn’t the place where they will give you your own room when you want to be alone. And against the background of a hot temper, this led to the fact that Keith didn’t get along with the children and educators. He desperately wanted to regain the very cozy world where he and a strong loving dad were, but those around him simply couldn’t give it.

Ultimately, this resulted both in the absence of friends, and in the reluctance of educators to spend time on him. After all, they had others – talented, not problematic, excellent pupils with perfect discipline. And without support – especially the support of wise adults – Keith has turned into a kind of a little mouse that wants to sit in a mouse hole, categorically unwilling to protrude into this dangerous unknown world, where everyone can offend him. And if this tiny mouse does get out, it begins to run and grind its teeth on everyone, so that every potential aggressor knows that this mouse, although small, can bite you.

Stage 2. Call to Adventure. The first Mentor appears

Maybe you’ve got what it takes?

At first glance, it may seem that the Blue Lion has become the Call to Adventure for Keith. But in fact, the Unknown World for Keith was not distant space, but life itself. And this Call happened much earlier than the events of the first episode.

Namely, the appearance of Shiro. The very moment when he came to school to tell the children about piloting and offer to play the simulator. The big man saw this very little mouse sitting in the corner and offered him his hand. He offered to show that the world outside the mouse hole isn’t so scary, and even interesting and wonderful.

What did our mouse do in the first moment? That’s right, he bit this hand. Keith perceived Shiro as another potential aggressor and didn’t want to make contact.

But Shiro’s tenacity was beyond measure. He told Keith over and over again that he needed to be bolder. He showed him the spaceship and told him about the astronauts who weren’t afraid to go into the unknown. He jumped off the cliff with him, demonstrating by his example his willingness to step towards this terrible frightening thing called life. And he explained that even such a flight can be controlled if you’re prepared for it in advance.

The mouse bit him on the finger, but he continued to offer his hand, promising to protect and help, to become a guide in the world around him, and under the guidance of Shiro, our tiny animal got out of the hole and began to gradually look around. Keith kept snapping at the people around him, but Shiro’s guardianship helped him start to feel a kind of security and certainty. He got a new father figure in Shiro and began to stabilize mentally.

But this process was cut short in the middle.

The first alarming call was the news about the illness. Keith of course told Shiro that he’s grown up enugh for this kind of news, but just remember how hysterically he spoke about it. The possibility of losing a father figure (for the second time!), guaranteeing stability and security, seemed daunting to Keith. He didn’t want to believe it, he refused to believe it, and by the events of the first season he simply threw this knowledge out of his head as unwanted information.

But then something happened that we already know. The expedition with Shiro disappeared, and the mouse, left without a protector, scaredly bit everyone who was nearby, and at the first cosmic speed rushed back into the hole. Keith quarreled with others and was expelled from the Garrison for deviant behavior, and then returned to his old house, where he once lived with his father. We now know that Heath lived there because he was guarding the Blue Lion, but then Keith simply returned to that one place where he felt comfortable and safe.

2.1 Supernatural Aid

As the saying goes, sometimes a decisive step forward is the result of a good kick from behind. Either the Blue Lion sensed the approach of the Galra, or she was simply bored, but she started sending Keith signals to go to look for the «anomaly» and, in the end, brought all the main characters of the series to her.

And by the will of the magic princess, for a more comfortable confrontation with the world around him, Keith receives a transforming sword, a stylish suit and a mechanical cat with character.

2.2 Refusal of the Call

No, I can’t take it.

Keith refused the Call from the beginning. But. Up to this point, Shiro played the role of the Good Father: he didn’t demand that Keith decide something himself, he stroked his head and persuaded him to trust father’s decisions. He took full responsibility for himself, allowing Keith to remain in the role of a child.

Now, with the arrival of the Galra, everything has changed. Shiro was no longer the same, and the world around him wasn’t the same. Shiro found himself in a situation where he was appointed commander-in-chief in a war against a huge hostile empire, and instead of the army he was given a handful of teenagers. Moreover, Shiro was sincerely convinced that he would soon become incapacitated, and the newly acquired PTSD demanded to keep everything under control. This means that he – Shiro – must take care of everything, including what will happen when he can no longer lead the team.

And in this situation, it turned out that Shiro really knew well only Keith. He knew what Keith could, and he knew Keith was trustworthy. In Shiro’s eyes, there was no longer a child, but a rather grown up guy, and Shiro treated him as an equal. And he began not to persuade Keith to go forward, holding his hand – he began to insist that Keith go and lead the others.

If you become a leader, you’ll have to act wisely.

From that moment, from a Good Father, Shiro began to gradually turn into an Evil Father, who demands that his son pull himself together and grow up. The Evil Father isn’t actually bad, he loves his son, but he believes that it’s time for the boy to stop being afraid of the outside world and become a man.

But Keith wasn’t ready yet. The child has just learned to stand on trembling legs, but here they’re demanding that he not only run forward, but also drag someone along with him.

So Keith began to refuse. To give up not so much the role of a leader as the obligation to take responsibility for himself. From the obligation to become an adult.

But the more the son resists, the angrier the father becomes. Because you can’t hide forever, and you can’t remain a child forever. Sooner or later, a moment may come when a father, out of love for his son, simply throws him out of the nest so that he forcibly learns to fly.

Stage 3. First Threshold. The second Mentor appears

3.1 Threshold Guardians

Trials can only have two outcomes.

First Threshold is the line that the hero needs to pass in order to enter a new unknown world. In Keith’s case, a new, unexplored world of maturity. At this turn, depending on the behavior of the protagonist, he’s met by either the Threshold Guardians or the Belly of a Whale.

What’s the difference? In the first case, the hero meets the Guardians, and they check the hero, whether he’s ready to cross this line. And only after passing their check, the hero receives permission to go further. In the second case, the hero is metaphorically killed, that is, he’s forced to change so that he meets the necessary requirements for entering a new unknown world.

Knowledge or death.

In Keith’s case, the first scenario happened. And Kolivan, accompanied by the Blades, becomes the Guardian at the turn of the new adult life. The one who will later become Keith’s guide through this world.

When the Blades meet Keith, they demand that he return the dagger to them, but Keith refuses. The fact is that for Keith the dagger embodied the very bright past that he desperately wanted to return. The last connection with that wonderful childhood, where he and his loving dad were. And the hope that if he tries, if he’s lucky, he’ll understand what this dagger means, and will know who he is and where he belongs. Where is his home and family.

But the Blades, as Guardians of the threshold of maturity, ask Keith how much he’s willing to give for this last hope. What are his priorities. For a very long time Keith turned away from people, from the whole world, in order to cherish dreams of a bright past in his head. And then he was forced to ask the question: how much he values these dreams. And he had to answer. Give the answer not to them, but to himrself.

Ultimately, between a childhood dream of a family and an adult responsibility to others, Keith chooses the latter. He passes the test of his willingness to begin the journey to maturity, and the Guardians let him through.

But think: what marks the passage of this milestone for Keith?

It’s marked by the battle with Zarkon, in which Shiro is killed and merged with the Black Lion.

Moreover, after these events, Shiro, in the person of Kuron, finally turns into the Evil Father. He simply refuses to lead Keith by the hande. And he inherits the Black Lion and the title of the Black Paladin.

Remember my words about throwing a chick out of the nest?

This is exactly what Shiro did. By becoming one with the Black Lion, he forcibly made Keith the Black Paladin.

Stage 4. Road of Trials

You wanted me to lead Voltron? This is the kind of leader I am.

It’s difficult to say how correct this decision was. Rather, Shiro simply didn’t see other options, since the Black Lion itself was made for an adult, responsible leader, and such ones don’t lie on the road.

And Keith, who was left with no choice, began his journey. On his trembling legs, the child began to walk forward, constantly falling and dropping the rest of the children following him. Naturally, he wasn’t happy about this. He constantly looked back, looking for thefsther figure and hoping to take him by the hand again. But dad saw was no longer a kid, but an adult and wasn’t going to help at all.

However, such a harsh decision did bear fruit. Other kids helped the main character; they walked tightly holding each other’s hands, and Keith began to feel grateful for the support and responsibility for the fact that when he falls, everyone else falls.

But then comes the second most important event in Keith’s life.

4.1 Test challenge & prepare hero

Shiro: Here’s the plan. Keith: Okay, team, we need to…

A sure sign: two housewives in the kitchen will lead to broken plates.

To accurately understand the meaning of this stage, I’ll briefly describe this stage in understandable language: this is the moment when the main character tries to defeat the main boss of the game for the first time. The main boss kicks him, but doesn’t kill, and the main character retreats, realizing that his level is too low.

And yes, the main boss of Keith’s game is the Evil Father in the person of Kuron. Kind dad has become a terrible dragon, and the boy must figure out what to do with it.

Kuron-Shiro returns. He returns, and the paladins receive not one, but two Black Paladins at once, which entails the need to establish a hierarchy. Because two drivers can’t sit behind the wheel at once – sooner or later a conflict will begin.

And on the one hand, Kuron actively advocates for Keith to be in command, and on the other hand, out of habit, gives instructions himself. And Keith needs to enter into some kind of rivalry in order to arrange roles and finally establish himself as a leader.

The boy has just begun to walk firmly, and dad is already offering to run a hundred meters for a bet.

And what does Keith do in this situation? He runs away He runs away to the Blades because he feels completely unprepared for such a challenge.

There’s only one question: why to the Blades? At first glance, the answer seems obvious: Keith learned that he was half Galra, saw his own kind in the Blades and decided to go to them. This is exactly what the paladins thought, and therefore they forgave Keith for such a decision.

In reality, the main motivating reason wasn’t race, but the behavior of the Blades in relation to Keith. More precisely – Kolivan’s behavior.

You broke protocol.

Statement of fact without any punishment.

If Shiro saw Keith as an adult and treated him like an adult, then for Kolivan – from the height of his past centuries – Keith was still a child. Colivan didn’t read him speeches about the need to become a leader and didn’t arrange competitions, and therefore, faced with an insurmountable obstacle, Keith simply fled under his wing.

And he got in Kolivan exactly the one he needed all these long years. Kolivan saw how the boy was unstable on his feet, took his hand and led him. He didn’t require Keith to walk on his own, but didn’t interfere with his attempts to do so. And he didn’t threaten with this terrible word «responsibility», but only reminded that every action has consequences, that if Keith falls in his desire to rush forward without looking, it will hurt.

You didn’t consider that something could have happenned to you.

Kolivan didn’t go easy on him, because such behavior was contrary to the Galran culture based on survival. But under his leadership, Keith became calmer, more concentrated and more confident in himself. He was in the position of an ordinary soldier, and therefore he wasn’t required to make decisions. On the other hand, Kolivan kept him nearby and from his example Keith learned what it means to be a leader.

Shiro: You must defeat the dragon! Keith: o_o Dragon called Life: You can’t defeat me, hero! Keith: O_O Kolivan: Dayak’s Galran Recreational School offers dragon-fighting training services Keith: Six months, please.

The evil Shiro demanded that Keith go ahead and lead everyone. Kolivan the mentor showed Keith how to do it.

The long-lost father returned home, and the child, having ceased to fear for his future, finally regained his balance. He began to stand harder on his feet and walk harder, because he felt that now he wouldn’t fall.

Again, speaking in gaming language, up to this point, Keith was offered to level up in locations with enemies above his level. It went slowly, the enemies were killed badly, and they could also kill Keith himself, and then he would lose experience and go back. Now he found a location with enemies of his level, and the process went quickly, fervently and without unnecessary risk.

Stage 5. Nadir/Abyss

So, Keith has leveled up and is ready to face his dragon again. What happens to him when he comes close to the moment X?

5.1 Meeting with the Goddess

The Goddess embodies for the Hero the personification of unconditional love, as the beginning of life. And meeting with her allows the protagonist to learn this aspect and understand that life is not only a series of suffering.

And here I can’t help but remember that initially a pairing with Acxa was planned for Keith, but then, to the great joy of some of the fans, this pairing was cut out. Since I hate it when the screenwriters cut a ready-made script, I can’t say that I’m satisfied with this fact, but at the same time I can’t but admit that this pairing practically didn’t play any role for Keith’s storyline. In Keith’s storyline, pairing isn’t at all important or even needed, because an abandoned child needs a completely different manifestation of love.

And his mother becomes his Goddess, the one who bestows unconditional love. Kolivan – who probably quickly guessed whose son Keith was – gives Keith a task and sends him to meet with Krolia. Subsequently, they travel together for several years, allowing Keith to satisfy the need for maternal love and close the state of his relationship with the maternal figure.

5.2 Woman as Temptress

And here we’re beginning to say hello to the edited S8. Temptress or Deceiver. A person encountered on the path of the protagonist, who takes advantage of his weaknesses and manipulates him for their own purposes. Historically, most often this person appears in the image of a seductive woman, because:

men in life easily trust beauties;

intrigue is a favorite female way of achieving a goal

Keith’s Journey at this stage is still a classic version, but thanks to the people who edited S8 this moment is completely lost. And it’s very bad.

Because the moment disappears when the hero realizes that he was deceived. When he realizes that his weaknesses have been taken advantage of. When he realizes that weaknesses can’t be indulged if you don’t want bad consequences.

So who is our very woman-temptress? That’s right, this is a sweet helpless girl Romelle, tearing out the metal sheathing with her bare hands and knocking out the hatches with her foot. (In this meta, I went through the scenes with Romelle in detail to explain why I consider her a liar )

Keith, look at those sad innocent eyes, how can you not believe them? Look how lonely she is, how she suffers after losing her brother.

What is Keith doing? Keith makes a stand: I see the goal, I believe in myself, I don’t notice obstacles.

When they flew to the moon base, he was already mentally prepared to see evidence of Lotor’s villainy. At the base, they didn’t see either guards or any warehouses with quintessence, but he immediately concluded that Lotor would get it from the Alteans. Why? Because «Do first, think later» is the main motto of the Red Paladin. After all, they were following the trail of the blue quintessence, and Romelle said that Lotor was taking away the Alteans. And Keith hastily decided that there’s a direct connection between the two events.

In mathematical logic, there’s such a concept as necessary and sufficient conditions. A sufficient condition is a condition that is sufficient to declare that the theory is correct. A necessary condition is a condition without which it’s impossible to prove that a theory is correct. The sufficient condition can’t exist without the necessary, but the necessary condition can’t replace the sufficient.

And it so happened that Keith used the necessary condition as sufficient and as a result came to the wrong conclusions. And inspired by righteous rage, our protector of the innocent flew to punish the big bad Lotor. Punished, well done. So that the whole universe backfired.

5.3 Atonement with Father

Here it is, here is the main moment of the feat. When the hero is faced with the dual figure of the father: both a protector and a tyrant. Literally dual in the face of Shiro and Kuron.

Kit tries to save the Good Father, Shiro, and at the same time – save the last echo of his childhood. But the Good Father says that he’s lost forever and can’t be returned in any way, and Keith has to come to terms with this. Because his friends need him. Because paladins need their leader.

And only at this moment, when Keith agrees to give up childhood and accept responsibility, he comes to terms with his father figure.

The Evil Father waited until his son became an adult, and ceased to be a source of fear and aggression. Kuron and Shiro merge, returning not Good or Evil, but just a Father to Keith. Not an all-powerful protector, but a person who’s ready to support his son and needs to be supported.

The feat was finally accomplished. The dragon is defeated without firing a shot.

But is this the end? No, this is not at all the end of the Hero’s Journey, but only the middle. The only problem is that the next stage – leading up to the recieving of the award – has been ripped out of Keith’s storyline.

But this is the most important stage.

Stage 6. Transformation

Having accomplished the feat, the hero changes internally and looks at the world with new eyes.

This stage for Keith began in S7 and should have reached its top by the middle, if not the end of S8.

Keith stopped running from responsibility. He agreed to become a leader. But he must also understand how to do it correctly. Draw conclusions from everything that happened in the past.

Shiro taught him to be decisive and not afraid of the unknown. Keith learned this lesson.

Now it’s time to learn Kolivan’s lesson. A lesson of realizing that every action has its consequences. And that you need to calculate and think before you do something.

But thanks to the changes in S8, instead of a process of awareness, instead of seeing the consequences of his actions and drawing conclusions, Keith suddenly turned into a «wise leader», infallible and invincible. So wise that he even teaches Zarkon.

Keith. Teaches. Zarkon.

You know, I sincerely admire Zarkon as a person. A great warrior, a great strategist, a wise ruler who concluded peace treaties and alliances for the good of his people. A loving husband and father. He was mistaken in only one thing – when, in desperation, he risked everything to save his wife and son.

Whatever one may say, but this is the most well-written pairing of the series.

And even mad after the shock dose of the quintessence, he – having in his hands only a disadvantaged people and a handful of ships practically left without energy – managed to build the strongest empire in the universe.

And Keith teaches him. The same Keith, who more than once abandoned everything and everyone to save Shiro.

When I watched this scene, I wanted to say only one thing: boy, you are now lecturing a man who came out against your Red Lion with one bayard and almost rolled you into a pancake. And you screwed up so many times that the entire universe burns with a bright flame.

Who are you to teach him?

Neither you nor your whole bunch of paladins were able to defeat Zarkon. Lotor did it, in a fair one-on-one duel.

Who are you to look down on him and claim victory over him? You didn’t defeat him. You weren’t even with the team at that moment.

And who is Keith for the Galra to offer him the throne of the emperor? He’s a savior to Earth, but to the Galra he’s nothing. They don’t care that he’s a Black Paladin, but they know that the paladins of Voltron destroyed the empire and thus broke the lives of many representatives of their people.

I could understand if they tried to make Lahn the ruler. Lahn tried to save at least something left of the empire and took care of his people. Or Kolivan, although the Blades always tried to stay in the shadows. But Keith has done absolutely nothing for the Galra to claim such a title.

Child, instructing adults – quite silly content for children. And all I can do in this case is an endless facepalm.

Someone who seemed to have Keith as a favorite character decided to give him a cookie in the end. To take this cookie from another – hated – character and give it to Keith. True, Keith didn’t need it at all, but the main thing is that another – hated – character has lost his cookie.

But let’s get back to the Hero’s Journey. What was really going to happen there?

Fortunately for us, the initial outline of Keith’s transformation is still being felt. This allows us to make fairly strong assumptions, and not just poke a finger in the sky.

The first – the earliest demonstration of Keith’s internal changes – is the scene with Zethrid. The episode was added in S8, but let’s keep in mind that it was originally planned for the beginning of S7.

Keith forgives Zethrid. Remember what Keith did to any hurt he got as a child? He got into a fight. Why did he do it? Because an insecure, scared person is afraid to appear weak. Therefore, any aggression is immediately responded to, if suddenly someone decides that they can offend him with impunity.

You need to have inner strength and confidence in order to respond to aggression with calmness and mercy. Lotor forgave his generals not only out of sentimentality, but also because he was confident in his abilities. A person filled with inner strength remains calm and merciful even to enemies, because in his soul there’s no fear for his life.

Keith became more confident, and therefore calmer, and most importantly, more merciful. And he found the strength to understand Zethrid, forgive and respond to her aggression with compassion.

There’s nothing special about killing your enemy. True valor is needed to understand them and forgive them. And he needed it, it took him later at the end of S7 to learn an important new lesson.

Unfortunately, to really understand the essence of my reasoning below, you’ll need to read my meta about Admiral Sanda. There’s a lot written there, and I wouldn’t want to drag it all here, so I’ll just build my ideas on what I wrote there.

Now I’ll return to the most recent events of S7. When the team of paladins ends up in prison and learns that it was Admiral Sanda’s fault.

Have you ever wondered why at the moment of confession we’re shown Keith’s face? And what was that face like?

Keith had been running away from the title of leader for so long, because even then he realized that this was a difficult role. Keith became a leader against his will and felt that he was carrying a huge burden.

But becoming more self-confident, more mature, Keith also learned to be more indulgent towards other people’s mistakes.

He understood Sanda because he knew how terrible it was to hold other people’s lives in his hands. And he forgave her, because he found the strength to respond to the stab in the back with compassion.

And Sanda taught him something that no one had ever taught him. Neither Kolivan nor Shiro.

Sanda taught him how to behave as a leader if he realized that he had made a total mistake.

She made no excuses, throwing the blame on Sam Holt.

She didn’t quarrel with the paladins, proving her case to the last.

When she realized that she was mistaken, thereby substituting people who depend on her, she admitted she was wrong. She admitted and asked for forgiveness. And she did everything to fix it – standing up to protect the paladins in a moment of danger.

And this is the most difficult option for taking responsibility. Taking responsibility for the fact that your actions have hurt other people. Who aren’t obliged to forgive you just because you threw up your hands and said «I’m sorry».

And Keith, whose actions brought trouble on dozens, if not hundreds of planets, badly needed this lesson. Sanda, without knowing it, gave Keith advice on how to act in such a situation, and later – in S8 – Keith began to use this advice.

When? Remember the conversation with Lahn. Did Keith have any need to reveal that it was he and Krolia who released the monster? No. Would Lahn ever know about this? Also no. Only Keith and Krolia knew why this creature was free. They might have shoved responsibility on the long-dead Galra, and no one could ever prove otherwise.

But Keith felt guilty for the death of Lahn’s subordinates and felt it right to confess. To take the responsibility. Would Keith from the first seasons, who sought to hide from responsibility behind his Father’s back, have done this? No. That Keith would have said nothing.

The completion of Keith’s Transformation stage, alas, is associated with the return of Lotor and therefore has been completely cut out. After the events of Clear Day, the true details of the events on the Altean colony were to surface, and Keith had to decide how to react to this information.

One thing I can say for sure: a conversation with Zarkon would have had a completely different tone. It’s unlikely that Zarkon would have been struck to tears by the fact that he fought with the entire universe, because for the Galra, all life is war. But he wouldn’t forgive himself an attempt to kill his own child. He wouldn’t forgive himself for the betrayal of his only son.

And Keith, from the height of his guilt – after all, it was he who left Lotor to die – couldn’t help but try to support Zarkon in this moment. And in the end, Zarkon would talk to him about responsibility, not that «Galra blood is cool, it made you a leader».

Upbringing made Keith a leader, the Galra blood gave him only beautiful eyes and chic hair.

Stage 7. Apotheosis

The hero receives his reward, consolidates the experience gained and sets new goals for himself.

Everything is quite simple here. The Blades in the face of Kolivan and Krolia join the celebration of life again, and they all decide what to do with Honerva. Keith has a mom, dad and an older brother. Keith paid off his debts, got his family, and the only obstacle to returning a quiet life is Honerva, not Keith’s personal problems.

Stage 8. Return Threshold

8.1 Refusal of the Return

About this, alas, nothing is known. The only thing I can assume is a state when a person who has returned from the war can’t learn to live peacefully again. In the case of Keith, he’s used to being the leader of the paladins and perhaps so got used to this role that he will no longer want to leave it. But whether Keith had this in reality is unknown.

8.2 Magic Flight

Flight of the paladins between realities on the mega-Voltron.

8.3 Rescue from Without

The Lion Goddess helps the paladins follow Honerva.

8.4 Final Challenge

Paladins meet Honerva in the space between realities. Allura and Lotor leave to restore the worlds, the guys return home.

Stage 9. Return

Free life, the hero becomes the master of his destiny. Epilogue.

From my point of view, there could be no disbandment of the Blades of Marmora. There are enough problems in the universe to require the services of an elite combat unit. And Keith could have stayed there as Kolivan’s assistant. It’s a bit early for the leadership, and it’s not a fact that Keith wants this. By the standards of the Galra, he’s still a very young man, with a whole life ahead of him. Surely there would be scenes with family and friends. Keith should be shown as a serene mature person.

What conclusions can be drawn from everything described above? Well, I personally understood for myself why it was Keith who gained such wild popularity among fans. Monomyth, as always, worked flawlessly and took the minds of people with it. I’m even beginning to suspect that the screenwriters simply took Campbell’s book and used it as a scheme for work, as Lucas once did when creating the old Star Wars trilogy. Keith had every chance of becoming Luke Skywalker of VLD, but, alas, not with that ending.

It’s a pity that such a wonderful work was let down the drain, I hope the screenwriters will please us in the future, and the result of their work will fall into more gracious hands.

#voltron #team voltron #VLD #keith #voltron keith #shiro #voltron shiro

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thevoilinauttheory · 4 years

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FFXIVWrite2020 Prompt #13 - Extra Credit

Character(s): Caromont Allard, Astrid Allard; a couple unnamed tutors and teachers. Setting: Sharlayan (Motherland); approximately 1475 of the Sixth Astral Era -- approximately 1480 of the Sixth Astral Era -- approximately 1494 of the Sixth Astral Era, just before the events of Prompt #22 What: Caromont is introduced to his new abilities, much to his dismay. Content Warnings: Explicit physical and emotional, familial, abuse; implications of trauma Author Notes: My spouse wanted more Caromont lore, so I used it as my extra credit prompt. Honestly, that’s all I gotta say. I had fun writing this one, because Caromont is my “enigma” character. Everything about him is hidden under the veil of the classic case of amnesia, but even if he does remember - no one ever knows, he doesn’t communicate if he’s remembered anything or not. So even in my private RP with my spouse, he’s still something of a mysterious character. --

Violet eyes cast a glance outside of the window of his classroom, it was a nice day. He was stuck here. Again. And again. And again. Everyday it was the same thing. When the click of a switch against the podium at the front assaulted his ears, he flipped the page of the book in front of him with no regard to the words written. Another snap, another page. There were whispers of other students beside him - he paid no mind. There were clouds to watch and he was far more interested in those. Crack, flip. Whap, flip.

“Allard!”

The boy’s head whipped to the front suddenly, his attention drawn by the sudden shout of his name. When he realized it was just his teacher, his posture relaxed, eyes squinting into a pure sense of utter boredom. He exuded it as he slid his arm over his desk to rest his head on his fist. The eye contact showed that he was listening… at least more intently than before, yet he said no words. His teacher walked her way to his desk, snatching up his textbook.

“The answer to number four, please.”

A deliberate attempt to sabotage him, taking away the text he paid no attention to and asking a question on it. It would’ve made any student fluster, yet the boy didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. “Teleporting is breaking down your aether and confluencing it with the Lifestream, carrying you to your destination so long as you don’t break contact with your thoughts. There are dangers to teleporting, such as losing focus and losing self - where your aether cannot conjoin together. Other effects can be severe aether sickness, crystal sickness, and possibly ending up at a different location.” Before any words could be spoken, he continued. “Aether sickness is caused by an increased intake of aether, causing a variety of symptoms such as nausea, vomiting, migraines, dizziness, vertigo, and temporary blind and deafness. There is no known cure for aether sickness, and it’s recommended to just let it pass. If it does not, though, a transfer of aether can be used to reduce the amount of aether stored in another’s body.” A sharp inhale. “This can also lead to aether deprivation, where there is too low of aether in another’s body; causing malnourishment, lack of appetite, inability to move certain body parts, loss of certain bodily functions, and numbness - death, within a matter of bells or suns.”

His eyes turned back to the window. “Answers four, five, and six. I am paying attention, and I dislike that you are accusing me of not.”

His teacher let out a soft sigh, setting his book down, then returned to the front of the class - allowing the child to continue daydreaming in peace.

When his classmates filed out at the first sound of the bell, he gathered up his belongings slowly and meandered his way to the door. “Caromont.” “Mm?” “Stay here, your mother will be arriving shortly.” “What did I do wrong? I answered your questions, did I not?” She shook her head. “It’s for both praise and punishment. You’re above your class clearly, but it feels as if you’re not invested in this path.” “I am not, I would much rather be doing something else.” “Then why do you continue?” “My mother wants me to. It’s the best way to make money and take care of my family.”

There was another shake of her head, yet she gestured to the door. “Take a seat outside.”

When his mother appeared, near stomping down the hall; heels clicking- he hated that noise. She could afford nice heels, but not a proper bed for her children. Nice clothes, nice makeup. In his loathing, he neglected to realize she was right beside him and a hard yank on one of his ears made him cry out. “What did you do this time! Ungrateful child, I send you to school and you do nothing but get in trouble!” “I do not want to be here, regardless! Let go!” He tried to pry her hand off, but her nails caught the cartilage, causing a sob to break from him. “Stop!”

“Mrs. Allard, if you please.” His teacher caught her before a hand could crack over his face - a save he couldn’t have been more grateful for. She seemed to recognize the situation, then smiled. “There is naught for him to be punished. I wanted to give only praise and a proposition.” A change in her previous statement. “Is that right? Why didn’t you say so before?” His mother let go of his ear, following his teacher inside the classroom while he was left outside to tend to his injured and now bleeding ear.

“I wished to convey just how brilliant your son is, he is far ahead of his peers in his aetherology studies - and I believe he is ready to move on to higher skills. Might I suggest astrology? He seems keen on being outside, and studies regarding the stars would allow him that enrichment he needs. He could be Sharlayan’s greatest healer with just a bit more effort and motivation from outside sources, such as his family.” She stacked up some papers, sitting herself down at her desk. “I can provide the necessary documentation of his successes, and present it to the head of the board. He’ll be ready to move on by next moon. Until then, I would have him stay and take tutoring classes to help him further. No extra charge, I assure you.”

“I see… if you believe he’s got that much talent wasting away in him, I suppose moving him forward wouldn’t hurt. Tutoring - if he’s so brilliant, then why--” “Because he will be entering in the middle of the school year, Mrs. Allard, and he will need to catch up on everything his new peers have already learned. Just because he has mastered this class does not mean he is a born master of every other class. You expect too much of the boy, he needs to be nurtured, and he needs to grow; and I will be frank with you - you are stifling him. Do not get in his way, or you will be the cause of the rift between you and your family.”

“Take your reading now, Caromont - allow yourself to connect with the gates as we last practiced. Your first reading is always the most important, to see your progress.” His mentor sat on the other side of the desk from him, watching intently to Caromont’s now bright-eyed enthusiasm to his new path. He hadn’t thought of astrology - while Sharlayan was well known for their astrologians, he never considered something like that to speak to him.

The first card was flipped over. “The Spire.” He spoke softly, and he allowed the card to speak. It hurt at first. He rubbed at his temples and within a few seconds his head hit the table as if he had fallen asleep there. His mentor quickly stood to check on him, frightened that something might have gone wrong - but when his head snapped back upright with his eyes wide, he turned to his mentor in tears. “...I- I-... I am sorry… I did not mean…” “What is wrong, child? Dear heavens, I thought you had performed a spell wrong.” “N-No.. I just. My reading is for you… and this position is the past, with the Spire, and… I saw. I saw what happened, I…” “Saw? You saw the past with the flip of a card?” “I just wanted them to speak to me…” “Cards don’t speak, Caromont. The stars do. I think… we may need a different tutor for you. I do not know if there is anyone with your talent, but. I do know that we have a section of professors and students all learning about an innate ability we have called the “Echo”. I would like to make certain that if you do have the Echo, you have a proper tutor to teach you about it - despite the fact that it manifests differently in everyone.” He gestured to the cards again. “Sit upright this time, against the back of the chair instead of forward. Close your eyes after drawing the card.”

He followed. The next card was drawn. “The Spear.” Immediately, he closed his eyes; still the tears fell. He shook his head as his eyes opened again. “...Maybe I should not do readings on you… I see too much.”

“No, this isn’t the Echo.” “Are you sure? What other explanation could there be for such a talent?”

Caromont was the talk of the Studium. Professors and peers wanted to know more about his ability - this was the day that his enthusiasm turned to responsibility. He hadn’t realized it yet.

“The stars speak right to him!” Those were the rumors. There had to be more, a person, or magic… something was doing this to him. He delved in libraries for years to tell him, what was he, what was he supposed to do? Everyday it was another person in need of help - everyday he had to make the choice whether someone should live or die - how heavy a burden on a man barely thirty winters old. Was this his fate and destiny? His cards were blank when he tried to read them for himself - like the stars only spoke through him, rather than to him.

He stood out in the dark, up at the sky did his eyes turn. He was never a wishful thinker, he was studious, uptight, he had to be the responsible one. This was the night he cried. He cried and he cried - how many more times would he have to sentence people to their deaths, how many more times would he have to tell people that there was nothing he could do. He would take the fates into his hands time and time again, always promising to never do so again. Everytime, the consequences of doing so would be worse than the original outcome - the fates ever escaping his grasp. He only wanted to help, why was he burdened with this responsibility?

#ffxivwrite2020 #prompt #history will be written #reading the stars #about: Caromont Allard

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darkmindsotome · 4 years

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Idiot’s Choice

Fandom: MLQC

Pairing: Victor Lee x Mc

Word count: 3,101

Warning: very slight spoilers on some early phone calls, fluff with a little angst.

Written by: darkmindsotome

A/N: The idea for this came to me after running back through the producer’s birthday messages on the game from my last birthday. A soft CEO.

Darkmindsotome Masterlist

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Idiot’s Choice

He checked his calendar again. The screen on his computer refreshed for the eighth time that hour showing no changes. There was a childish digital sticker on today’s date with no explanation attached to it. Not that he needed any details, he knew why he had placed that sticker there.

The cutesy cartoon squirrel looked like her, well to him it did. He thought back on a dumb conversation they had had a while ago when she was rambling on about how he resembled a cat in her eyes. Despite himself, he still smiled when he heard her ask why he thought of her as a squirrel only to be lost for words at his explanation.

Today was the day. He had taken it upon himself to look at her personnel profile for work. Her company had this thing for making an office blog that ran alongside normal productions for Miracle Finder. He was told it was a new trend among companies, a peek behind the scenes. Small snippets of office banter and candid pictures had popped up revealing a workspace quite unlike any you would find in LFG. He frowned briefly wondering how you were supposed to work efficiently in such chaos before moving on to pull up the event pages.

A picture of a giant ice cream cake in the shape of something that he supposed was a kind of animal filled his screen. Text laid out in sloppy icing saying “Happy Birthday Boss!” was clearly visible. He cross-checked the date with the small personnel file in his hand that contained his contract with her. Yes, the date matched so now all he had to do was wait.

Waiting sounded like the easiest part of his whole plan. In fact, it was excruciatingly painful. His eyes fell on the pile of gifts he had selected and had wrapped. What he thought was a small pile in fact covered most of the top of a table in his office.

The different shaped boxes ranging from palm-sized to something closer to a shoebox were arranged so each could be seen. The complimentary wrapping paper with corresponding ribbons and bows made it look like an upmarket window display.

Time was a constant factor he was always aware of. The steady tick tick tick from the hands of the clock sounded mocking as he tried to focus on some work. Where was she? She wouldn’t forget about today, would she? No… maybe she’s thinking of seeing someone else today and not me? The idea, as brief as it was, hurt to even consider.

He had seen her posts on Moments where others had happily commented back. He had read her words smiling only to see the reply from someone else wipe it from his face. She was free to have friends and naturally that would include any gender. It didn’t stop his mind from wandering a petty path of jealousy when he saw the happy insider jokes and promises to meet up and try something new together when it was directed at another man.

He chastised himself for getting so worked up over something so childish. He knew what she was like when he fell for her. Oblivious, naïve, perhaps lacking in experience would have been a kinder way of thinking about it. What he felt to be a fairly obvious display of his intentions had repeatedly taken a turn he had not predicted.

“…Dummy.” His softly spoken term of endearment tumbled from smiling lips as he turned the page on another document. Using his pen to mark typos and underline sections for correction.

Time marched on and eventually, the entire morning had passed him by without the cheerful voice he wished to here filling his office. He thought back about a conversation they had where she had asked him what he did for his birthdays only to look upset at his reply of ‘nothing special’.

Birthdays to him were another day. They held some significance as a child, as they did to all children. Even back then though they had still felt more like a formality for him. His father was always working hard, his mother… actually that might have been the last time he had what you would call a very happy birthday. He shook his head chasing away the maudlin thoughts and refocused.

Today was her birthday it wasn’t about him at all. She had such a sad look on her face when he spoke of his own that he really did have to wonder how someone with such a kind heart had remained so pure in this world. She had known pain and loss yet she still moved forward like a blinding light in the darkness. The strength she showed, that self-motivating determination was what had made him take a second chance on an otherwise fruitless business arrangement.

She had a fire, she had a spark that reached out and touched others. She had so much potential if she only applied herself a little more to the groundwork. He guided her and watched her grow. He drove past her office on his way home frowning at the lights remaining on so late at night. He wanted her to grow but he didn’t expect her to work herself to exhaustion. He reminded her she could ask for help, ask him. Am I really so unreliable? Unapproachable?

The time she spent on his own birthday preparations had been a shock. The flowers, balloons other kitschy decorations that were completely her and yet it had touched him deeply that she had tried so hard on his behalf to prepare something he would like. He didn’t tell her that all he needed was to have her there with him. All he needed was to hear her say the words “Happy Birthday Victor!” in her cheerful voice and he would have been just as blown away.

The pile of gifts on the table caught his eye again. Knowing her she would try to refuse taking them, but he wished for her to have all of them and more should her heart desire it. Where was she?

Slipping his phone from him jacket he checked for any notifications even though he had turned the volume on the device all the way up to maximum and knew he couldn’t have missed a thing. He caught his own reflection in the glass of his window. The cool, calm man he usually saw was absent from view.

In all these years nothing had rattled him to the core in such an obvious manner. He could count the few times something had on one hand. This was different. Ever since their very first meeting, it felt like there was a lingering memory attached to her.

He listened to her talk and babble on about inane topics and found himself enthralled. When she was struggling, he found himself practically running to her aid. She was like an open book, so full of life and connected to all kinds of emotions. She was nothing like the other people he had met and here was the proof. He was waiting for her.

The knocking on his door drew him back to himself. He calmed his nerves and removed all signs of his previous anxieties from his overactive mind. In all honesty, he could laugh. How many times did he call her and her childish imagination out when it took hold of her?

“Victor it’s me.” Of course, it was.

“Come in.” His eyes flicked to the clock on the wall and straightened his posture. The door opened as he fixed his stoic mask in place resisting the desire to look at her. His eyes wavered on the document in his hand tracing the lines of text there without registering any of them.

“I’m sorry it took a while to get here. I finished the report and my printer was broken at home so I have to go to the office.”

A thin office binder appeared in his view. His eyes followed its high gloss cover to the delicate manicured fingers holding it. The sun from the window behind him catching on her jewellery as he looked up into her eyes. She looked different. It wasn’t the passage of time or his own mind playing tricks.

She had adjusted her makeup and styled her hair differently. She wasn’t meant to be working at all today but she had managed to appear before him dressed as if she had just walked in from a presentation. Her cream blouse was tucked into a form-fitting pencil skirt. Even the blazer she had chosen seemed so alien to him.

“Is something wrong? I didn’t use the wrong type of binder or something did I?” Her enquiry made him realise he had been staring.

“No, it’s fine.” He took another look at the document she had handed him before adding it to the pile on his desk and turning his critical eye back to her. “You got dressed up like that to drop off a report? You are aware there is a difference between professionalism and amateur dramatic performances?”

She fidgeted in place those little wheels turning in her mind just behind those clear eyes. His caustic words had a way of provoking a response. Sometimes he did it on purpose but there were other times such as now when they simply seemed to leak from him. A precise and cutting verbal display of word vomit even he, on occasion, hated with a passion.

The opinions of others never usually affected him. If they were hurt in some way by his critical reviews of their work and efforts, he saw it more as a ‘prove me wrong’ installation of inspiration. They had a choice, double down and get it done or walk away. It was a hard, cut-throat approach to business that had seen him a long way.

Meeting her had changed that. She shook him to his core. Had him questioning his managerial style and way of interacting in general. They had not known each other long at all but he already knew things had changed. For better or worse this was now something he was sure he didn’t want to lose.

Those little wheels kept turning in her mind. His harsh words however many he spoke in jest or just to get a rise out of her. He always felt a pinch in his chest as he waited for her reaction. He never wanted to hurt her.

“Say what you like I have already decided that nothing you say to me today is going to get to me.” Her childish bravado made him scoff.

“Oh really? I’m so pleased you found a way of keeping yourself happy. However, misguided the ideas to do so maybe.”

She gave him the most adorable glare before looking around the room and realising rather comically there was a stack of gifts behind her.

“What’s all this your fan – mail?” It was clear from her voice she had been thrown by the cheerful collection of wrapping paper trussed up with all the ribbons and bows.

“A return gift,” He said rising from behind his desk to stand just behind her. Leaning close enough the scent of her shampoo to fill his nose. “for a Dummy.”

“Return gift?” She spun around the unbridled curiosity in her eyes sparkling.

“Have you forgotten your own birthday?” He teased.

“Of course I haven’t. I’m just a little surprised you would know my birthday. Besides people don’t give gifts expecting anything in return.” She looked back at the collection of gifts without moving to take one. He was at least thankful for her distracted attention because she had managed to draw out something like shyness from him.

“Don’t go getting so excited I only picked up a few things and had them delivered here for you.” He cleared his throat and moved back to his desk. Choosing to perch on the edge of it rather than sit behind it.

“A few things this looks like half a store. You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.” Now she was at least taking a closer look at them all. Her hands reached out with fingers showing a slight shake as she brushed them over a coral pink ribbon.

“You think selecting a few things like this is trouble? I just happened to see some items that looked like the kind of childish knickknacks you enjoy and…”

“So, you were thinking of me?” She stopped investigating the ribbons and turned to him with a disarming smile.

“No, I wouldn’t say that. I was just acquiring some items in passing.” He covered for his floundering heart as she continued to smile at him. Honestly, what are you thinking looking at me like that?

“Whilst thinking of me?” Her persistence only added another layer to his own wonder at her line of questioning.

He knew she was right outside of work usually people didn’t gift a gift expecting one in return that was the whole nature of gift-giving at its core. You gave a gift as a gift without a desire for personal gain entering into the equation.

“All I thought was there was a certain Dummy who would like them. If you don’t want them you don’t have to have them.”

The smile on her face faltered at his words but it wasn’t in a way that he recognised as upset with him. Her eyes became downcast, the energy she showed so confidently when entering his office looked as if it were draining out of her.

There was something hidden in that curious look she was giving him. Concealed under the surface of her words and questions. He knew what he wanted it to be but he also felt that it was the wrong answer. How can such a simple mind confound me like this?

“What’s wrong?” He asked. His worry affecting the tone of his voice, making it softer.

“Nothing just… Ever since Dad. I’ve been on my own you know? The guys at the office try to do things and it's great but…” She cut her explanations short as if she were trying to trim off the pain from memory. He knew all to well that it didn’t work like that.

“… no substitution.” His voice was almost a whisper. His own protected memories answering her own, mirroring the loss.

“What?” Her eyes returned to him. Her smile was gone and it was like someone had dimmed all light in the world.

“I’m the same with my—Well we have similar thoughts on the subject.” He didn’t speak about his past. He had no reason too. It was private his life was of no concern of others but when it came to her, he wanted to tell her. They had shared so many things in such a short time it was strange to think that they hadn’t simply always just been together.

“Thank you.” Her smile crept back, tugging gently on the corners of her mouth.

“If you want to thank me you could pick a gift.” He joked hoping to get that smile to beam brighter.

“Oh! I couldn’t there are so many and I don’t know prices on them or anything. Knowing you they are all really expensive and—”

“Price isn’t important. Whatever I give to you is because I wish you to have it. Pick a gift.” He cut her off as she rambled. Why did everything come back to money? Accept the gift already. Accept… Even in his own mind, he couldn’t voice his own desires.

“… Y-you.” Her eyes flew open along with her mouth. She seemed completely stunned.

“Excuse me?” Did I say something that was truly that shocking?

“If you want me to pick a gift. I chose to have one that is truly and completely one that is so expensive no amount of money could hope to cover it.” She seemed to be back to her usual self or at least the playful childish one he had grown to love. With a sheepish smile that only added to her charm, she planted both of her feet firmly in front of him like she was awaiting a firing squad. “I chose you. Will you be my gift?”

Her request had his own mind grind to a screeching halt. Nothing could have prepared him for that question. Even if he had in a moment of lucid daydreaming thought that she might for a moment suggest such a notion he still had no control over himself.

“Do you have any idea what you are asking me?” His shocked face was reflected in her eyes that were searching him, wondering what his reply would be.

“I just want to spend some time with you on my birthday. Eat a meal, hang out maybe go watch a movie. Is that so wrong?” Her voice grew quieter the more she spoke. Withdrawing into herself fear of rejection looming over her head as he continued to look in awe at the woman in front of him.

*Sigh* She really has no idea of what she does to me, does she?

“No not wrong at all. It is very you.” He drew her to him and gave her a hug. She felt stiff in his arms by the sudden change in proximity but quickly relaxed against his chest. “You got bolder.” His words brushed over the top of her head causing her to giggle at the way it tickled.

“I’m allowed to at least for one day out of the year.” She squeezed him back.

“Let me finish up here and I’ll meet you at reception.” He withdrew from her sharply not trusting himself any further without first taking a moment to compose himself.

“Ok!” She happily bounced out of his office the door clicking shut behind her completely unaware of how shaken she had left him.

He slipped his arms into the sleeves of his black suit jacket. Remembering those two small arms of hers putting in as much effort as she could to show him how much she appreciated him agreeing. We don’t give a gift to receive one in return but what would you say if I told you this right here is one of the best return gifts I’ve ever received?

He delved into the pocket and pulled out the key to his car as his eyes looked once more at the pile of unclaimed gifts.

“You could have had any of these and this is what you choose?... Idiot.”

---

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incarnateirony · 4 years

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I'm curious, do you think that theory that Lucifer is Jottun makes sense? To me it feels weird, but this is your lane and you have way more knowledge about this.

Okay so first of all, wtf tumblr why is your cut INSIDE THE ASK and fucking up my post

Moving on:

I... is this like, a show theory that someone came up with? Or are you talking like, in general mythology?

(Edit: I realized I postured this from the angle of assuming we’re talking about the widely received idea of Lucifer in modern culture; if I was wrong about that, lemme know -- I do drift into the NONCHRISTIAN Greek Lucifer as well, which you’ve seen me talk about with Phanes before on this blog)

I’ve never heard a serious statement (or at least one that held up if gently poked) about this as much as a general correlation (IE, Promethean deities if you will, which would correspond Lucifer to Loki, though I highly disagree with that assessment for other reasons as well) -- or various theory parallels where the Jotun are parallel to everything from Titans to Nephilim.

Generally the Luciferian/Satanic iconization of Loki came from later transcriptions of eddas by Christian monks. Then again, the idea of Satan himself came from the jews taking on Zoroastrian beliefs after captivity so fuck all flips table

The last thing I’ve seen that tried to draw any kind of correlation about it had some nonsense trying to equate Azazel to Hermes too and a whole other mess of madness.

Without tracking the anthropology and etymology of a situation though, you end up with a mess, and there’s a lot of those out there. If you google long and hard enough, Lucifer is everyone. He’s Cronus, he’s Hyperion, he’s Prometheus, he’s Loki, he’s like half the native american spirits, he’s also somehow half the angels and demons in the bible and apocryphal scripture, depending on how far down a rabbit hole someone wants to go, he’s Santa or a tempting sandwich on tuesdays.

This got long so I’m putting it behind a cut -- it seems to drift but to truly answer this ask, or more answer why I don’t even have a direct statement to answer it, required some -- explanation and history

Helel is a stronger thing to lean into for example. The anthropology tracks, the mythos tracks, etc. Hell, look up Jewish beliefs on fallen angels, satan, lucifer or whatever and realize Christianity has really taken judaism for a joyride while gluing shit over their homework. Hell like, check out the history of jewish captivity under Nebuchadnezzar II and how Zoroastrianism influenced judaism/the very belief of satan/eventual conflation with Lucifer -- there’s debate on whether the Morning Star, mentioned as the King of Babylon, who made them work and toil, was Nebuchadnezzar himself. Which would make, Lucifer, um. Some king dude that died 2600 years ago, give or take.

I am-- very slow to draw angelic associations. That’s not to say they don’t happen. You can, say, track the fall of the grigori and follow their mentioned path to egypt where they "became kings”, and follow which ones disseminated into which cultures how by comparing their attributes, sure. But with something like, say, Lucifer, which is a mythological clusterfuck to itself, considering everything in the public mind about Lucifer modernly is an amalgam of everything from multiple names in the same sacred text to adaptations from influencing religions/weird reads on the transcriptions from people that didn’t know their history/etc, I’m not gonna be like LUCIFER IS JOTUN any more than LUCIFER IS A TITAN or LUCIFER IS A NEPHILIM.

Could there be a correlation for that? Sure I guess. But of the many things I have studied or dealt with, I’ve seen some shit. I’ve seen some SHIT. And never once have I encountered a Lucifer that was legit, if you believe in spoopy shit. Various shit loves using the name as a quick cred card but that’s the equivalent of a nigerian prince facebook scam that’s totes in the US Army Doug David Donnie Darko Davis, very believable. But you know what? I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s Lucifer these days. Whoever was identified as it originally 1. probably put on magical witness protection and changed names by now 2. has been utterly lost by time and has been replaced more with a /concept/ than a /being/. But the modern concepts are so vague it’s like hiding a blue chip in a pool, have fun finding it, and I’ve definitely never been compelled to do so.

I’m sure racially speaking one could say “angels might be aesir” “demons might be jotun” and draw a reasonable argument about it with enough effort, but that’d be more like... systemic translation of thousands-years-old stories traveled over the lands, at which point the question is less “Is Lucifer Jotun?” and more “What would the Aesir and Jotun be in abrahamic text equivalency?”

Curiously I’ve never seen anybody go bananas over this shit to find correlations for anything ~other~ than Christian-outward -- Christian texts always want to make their people everybody else’s people, but nobody is fighting to be referenced by christianity and even less are trying to compare say, Zoroastrianism or Islam or anything else to what gods THEY might be -- even though Zoroastrianism is literally where half this stuff came from, where ideas of archangelic-like creatures and archdemons came from, where the afterlife, where it all came from. So I struggle, deeply, to associate Lucifer with anything specific for a long, long list of reasons but find this a particularly weird thing. Like when’s the last time you heard a muslim or taoist or any other major world religion right now go out and be like “YOU KNOW WHO I THINK (ENTITY) IS, I BET ITS THIS GREEK/NORSE DUDE RIGHT HERE”-- it’s just a Christian culture thing?? IDK???

And again sometimes it’s even /valid/ but I just-- Lucifer is such a Topic(TM) to me. Because to me, he’s a concept, an idea, an archetype, but if there ever was an individual Lucifer that dude got himself a face transplant and fucked off a long time ago IMO so good luck

cuz like

Interpretations of a similar term in the Hebrew Bible, translated in the King James Version as "Lucifer" as a proper name, led to a Christian tradition of applying the name Lucifer, and its associated stories of a fall from heaven, to Satan, but modern scholarship generally translates the term in the relevant Bible passage, (Isaiah 14:12), as "morning star" or "shining one" rather than as a proper name, "Lucifer".

As a name for the Devil, the more common meaning in English, "Lucifer" is the rendering of the Hebrew word הֵילֵל‎ (transliteration: hêylêl; pronunciation: hay-lale) in Isaiah (Isaiah 14:12) given in the King James Version of the Bible. The translators of this version took the word from the Latin Vulgate, which translated הֵילֵל by the Latin word lucifer (uncapitalized) meaning "the morning star, the planet Venus", or, as an adjective, "light-bringing".

As a name for the planet in its morning aspect, "Lucifer" (Light-Bringer) is a proper name and is capitalized in English. In Greco-Roman civilization, it was often personified and considered a god and in some versions considered a son of Aurora (the Dawn). A similar name used by the Roman poet Catullus for the planet in its evening aspect is "Noctifer" (Night-Bringer).

You’d probably have a better chance of coherently inferring that Lucifer is actually Inanna or Ishtar the goddess, as Venus, or that Lucifer is Aphrodite. ORIGINALLY IT WAS FUCKING HELEL.

A suggested methodology on this: Never ever ever start from Christian texts. Like ever. Much less without at least a single Daf Yomi run to actually understand the jewish texts before it got super renovated and had white-out slapped all over it. Christianity generally perished anything after it, or at best attached like a symbiote until the host entity or belief was gone. Hell, sometimes the greecoroman Lucifer is the son of Eoster. Sound familiar? Hot take: Lucifer is Easter confirmed Easter is Satan worship.

See how that can be kinda... faulty? If you want to understand it though-- figure out where the same concept went? GO BACKWARDS. Never go FORWARDS. Pick up those christian and jewish texts and go. BACKWARDS. Akkadian. Babylonian. Because once you realize what was clipped out of other faiths, you can go back to that core deity and start figuring out where it branched off in other directions than eventually being kidnapped into the messianic cult bag. THEN go forward in time and realize that christianity is just an itty bitty teeny tiny branch of our history, it just swamped us over time via extermination. So you can find Lucifer as just about anyone, because respectively, ask a room full of rabbis and pastors to write down every time Lucifer is mentioned by name in original text form in the bible before translation and rendition. The rabbis are gonna giggle and the pastors are gonna be deadass wrong, sorry.

You wanna play a game? “Is Asmodeus Aesir?”

folds arms I’ma let you sit here scratching your heads about that for a while.

Because it’s gonna take going backwards. Who was the babylonian form of Asmodeus? When did the name ASMODEUS happen? What name did it have even in jewish texts? Or which branch of names? What did that deity evolve into in less calvinistic or messianic circles? Yes, you can track this. Yes, you CAN find how it translated into greece far and away from abrahamic or calvinistic influence, or to the vikings, or anyone else if you chase the crumbs enough, but again, there’s-- entire things to review about systemic beliefs and translations/hot takes. Same shit, different label in most places, sure, but-- eh.

Ranting a bit at this point but if anyone takes anything out of this:

Pinpoint when/where/why names originated

Go backwards first, not forward

Find the anchor belief/origin/story

Find where it branched

respect the branches and deviations as unique renditions within cultures while equally respecting the fact that there’s some truth in all beliefs and we’re all trying to describe the same shit. So could Lucifer be Jotun, I guess. But we’d have to hold nuanced discussion about the journey of the narrative from A to B and how the Aesir and Jotun correspond at large.

Anthropology and etymology are key. Where did people travel, how did they write, what did it mean. Don’t look only for very specific affiliations.

Hell let me take a quote from-- a place.

Here is how a pantheon actually comes together.

First deity: “Shit. My people were conquered and my religion just blowed up. I’m out of a job”

Second deity: “Me too.”

Third deity: “Hey, you look like that Lightning God the mortals in that place over there are telling stories about.”

Two deities at the same time: “We’re lightning gods too, though!”

Third deity: “Well, shit. You, on the left, you’re better looking. Best you be in charge.”

First deity: “Screw you! I’m bigger than all of you!”

Second deity: “Whatever. You’re a thug. Go rule the sea.”

First deity: “What? I’m a god of paternity!”

Second deity: “Paternity’s moist. That’s very similar.”

Meanwhile, you guys on Earth are all like, “Oh, Hermes is younger than Apollon.” Like its a fact. Like I wasn’t some Proto-Indo-Eurpean god of Penises and Serpents and outcroppings of stone long before anyone was ever speaking Greek.

And while we’re at the bastardized rerolling of mythologies, most heavily performed by christianity, I point you to that last line, regarding Baal Peor, and raise you:

youtube

If people noticed that video was sassier than normal, there’s a reason.

Let’s say you had a super interesting life and people kept telling your story, but over time, as it spread around the world, the telephone game got warped into several very different things. In some you’re even the villain, in some you have a giant dick, and in others you saved the world. All of these were somehow inspired by you and your story, but none of the people at the end of the story are necessarily ~you~. But someone has to figure out where the story started to find who ~you~ are, even if there’s tales of things you did, or supposedly did, all over the place. And sometimes people also take any word that sounds like your name and make it you. So if your name was Ted, you’d also end up with all kinds of shit like Bed Dead Fed Head Jed Lead Ned Red Wed and Zed when they come up suddenly all get replaced by the word/name Ted and that’s it, that’s your mythology.

#pagan life

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giffordubaldo · 4 years

Text

STUDENT ACTIVITY SHEET NO. 5

(Group Task)

Subject: Media and Information Literacy

Topic: The Evolution of Traditional to New Media

Group #: Group 4

Date Given: 08/24/2020

Due Date: 08/25/2020

Learning Competencies:

1. Editorialize the roles and functions of media in democratic society

Group Members:

Walter M. Ortega Jr.

Karen Kizha Dayaganon

Gifford Jhon B. Ubaldo

Rey U. Epan Jr.

Jeff Darrell Cranzo

Instructions:

1. Sketch a political cartoon that depicts how the Philippine media performs its roles and functions in the Philippines.

2. Compose an editorial based on the editorial cartoon. (See mechanics below )

3. Post your political cartoon and editorial on your e-portfolio (Tumblr account).

Mechanics:

1. The blog must consist of 2 paragraphs.

2. Each paragraph must have 150 words.

3. Follow standard format: Font Style/Size- Arial Narrow 12

Activity 1: Political Cartooning

“Media and Government: A Love-Hate Relationship”

Answer: The Media, and the government. These are the two most powerful institutions in the world. The media and the government has the power to manipulate people and to change how people think on certain topics going around our world today. Both of these institutions are made for us, of the people. Without media, we wouldn’t be able to be notified or alerted about what’s happening today in our world, and without our government, who would be there to discipline us and lead us to the right path? At some points, the media and the government tends to conflict each other. People are saying that some news that are reported are biased, yet the government is saying that it’s not. Some journalists oppose what the government is saying. Because of this the government releases statements that will then oppose the media.

As a result, the people are manipulated. Many netizens post their own statements and opinions on what is happening around them. Because of these people become divided. They have the power to change people’s perspectives. But despite that, let us never forget without media, there would be no transparency in the government. The media serves as our guide and our watchdogs to notify us whatever’s happening now in our world. Even if they conflict at times, without them, life would become harder for us. The government can’t single-handedly lead the people to the right path, for they need a helping hand, and that helping hand is the media.

Instructions:

1. Provide the most logical explanation to each question.

Activity 2: Critical Thinking Questions

1. Differentiate the salient similarities and differences of traditional media and the new media. Cite sources of where your answers are based.

Answer: Traditional media allows businesses to target a broad target audience through billboards, print advertising, television commercials, and more. In comparison, new media allows companies to target a narrow target audience through social media, paid online ads, and search results. Price-wise, traditional media tends to cost more than new media due to its broad targeting and advertising channels. Traditional media includes mostly non-digital advertising and marketing methods.

Traditional media is:

Television advertisements

Radio advertising

Print advertising

Direct mail advertisements

Billboards and off-site signs

Cold calling

Door-to-door sales

Banner ads

Companies have used these methods for many years to reach consumers and motivate them to make purchases. Up until very recently, these marketing and advertising styles were very effective, and helped businesses just like yours make a profit. However, as the needs and expectations of consumers evolve, marketing has no choice but to evolve as well. This is what has led to the rise of new media and digital marketing methods and the decrease in popularity of some traditional methods you know well. It’s also led to the debate between traditional vs. digital media.

Many of these methods have been around for several years, but have only gained prominence recently. Best practices for these methods are currently dependent on their sources, as opposed to depending on the attitudes of consumers. But over time, we may see another shift as consumer feelings change toward these methods. Your business relies on a variety of marketing and advertising methods to reach potential customers and leads. Over time, the marketing methods you use have likely evolved, changed, or even been retired and replaced with new ones. In comparison, new media allows companies to target a narrow target audience through social media, paid online ads, and search results. Price-wise, traditional media tends to cost more than new media due to its broad targeting and advertising channels. Sam Selders discusses the advantages and disadvantages of new media and traditional media. Traditional media includes mostly non-digital advertising and marketing methods. However, as the needs and expectations of consumers evolve, marketing has no choice but to evolve as well.

2. Describe the way media has evolved. Do you think the changes brought by time on these concepts have helped humanity in the access of information? Cite studies that would support your claim.

Answer: Effective communication and teamwork is essential for the delivery of high quality, safe patient care. Communication failures are an extremely common cause of inadvertent patient harm. The complexity of medical care, coupled with the inherent limitations of human performance, make it critically important that clinicians have standardised communication tools, create an environment in which individuals can speak up and express concerns, and share common “critical language” to alert team members to unsafe situations. All too frequently, effective communication is situation or personality dependent. Other high reliability domains, such as commercial aviation, have shown that the adoption of standardised tools and behaviours is a very effective strategy in enhancing teamwork and reducing risk. We describe our ongoing patient safety implementation using this approach within Kaiser Permanente, a non-profit American healthcare system providing care for 8.3 million patients.

To do this book review I was given a bound galley copy as it was not printed yet. I had it with me at a seminar. People noticed the book and asked me about it.“ Is this the next FieldbookV” How did you get this?“ Suddenly, I found myself connecting with people beyond the surface pleasantries. I was experiencing change because of this book. In our work improving performance we initiate change. We identify gaps, analyze causes and recommend a wide array of interventions. These interventions are designed to create change that will be beneficial and long lasting to the organization. But as Senge points out in the beginning of this book, most change efforts fail because they do not produce the hoped-for results. It is important for us to be skilled at initiating and sustaining change. We have to help our clients deal with the challenges of change so they don’t become discouraged and revert to the original systems and behaviors that caused their performance gap.

3. Do you think traditional media is still relevant these days?

Answer: Media Economics, Applying Economics to New and Traditional Media differs from ordinary media economic texts by taking a conceptual approach to economic issues. As the book progresses through economic principles, authors Colin Hoskins, Stuart McFadyen, and Adam Finn use cases and examples to demonstrate how these principles can be used to analyze media issues and problems. Media Economics emphasizes economic concepts that have distinct application within media industries, including corporate media strategies and mergers, public policy within media industries, how industry structure and changing technologies affect the conduct and performance of media industries, and why the United States dominates trade in information and entertainment.

Media Economics emphasizes economic concepts that have distinct application within media industries, including corporate media strategies and mergers, public policy within media industries, how industry structure and changing technologies affect the conduct and performance of media industries, and why the United States dominates trade in information and entertainment. The growing popularity of the World Wide Web as a source of news raises questions about the future of traditional news media. Is the Web likely to become a supplement to newspapers and television news, or a substitute for these media? Among people who have access to newspapers, television, and the World Wide Web, why do some prefer to use the Web as a source of news, while others prefer traditional news media? Drawing from a survey of 520 undergraduate students at a large public university where Internet use is woven into the fabric of daily life, this study suggests that use of the Web as a news source is positively related with reading newspapers but has no relationship with viewing television news. Members of this community use the Web mainly as a source of entertainment. Patterns of Web and traditional media exposure are examined in light of computer anxiety, desire for control, and political knowledge. This study suggests that even when computer skills and Internet access become more widespread in the general population, use of the World Wide Web as a news source seems unlikely to diminish substantially use of traditional news media.

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walter-1 · 4 years

Text

STUDENT ACTIVITY SHEET NO. 5

(Group Task)

Subject: Media and Information Literacy

Topic: The Evolution of Traditional to New Media

Group #: Group 4

Date Given: 08/24/2020

Due Date: 08/25/2020

Learning Competencies:

1. Editorialize the roles and functions of media in democratic society

Group Members:

Walter M. Ortega Jr.

Karen Kizha Dayaganon

Gifford Jhon B. Ubaldo

Rey U. Epan Jr.

Jeff Darrell Cranzo

Instructions:

1. Sketch a political cartoon that depicts how the Philippine media performs its roles and functions in the Philippines.

2. Compose an editorial based on the editorial cartoon. (See mechanics below )

3. Post your political cartoon and editorial on your e-portfolio (Tumblr account).

Mechanics:

1. The blog must consist of 2 paragraphs.

2. Each paragraph must have 150 words.

3. Follow standard format: Font Style/Size- Arial Narrow 12

Activity 1: Political Cartooning

“Media and Government: A Love-Hate Relationship”

Instructions:

1. Provide the most logical explanation to each question.

Activity 2: Critical Thinking Questions

1. Differentiate the salient similarities and differences of traditional media and the new media. Cite sources of where your answers are based.

Traditional media is:

Television advertisements

Radio advertising

Print advertising

Direct mail advertisements

Billboards and off-site signs

Cold calling

Door-to-door sales

Banner ads

Companies have used these methods for many years to reach consumers and motivate them to make purchases. Up until very recently, these marketing and advertising styles were very effective, and helped businesses just like yours make a profit. However, as the needs and expectations of consumers evolve, marketing has no choice but to evolve as well. This is what has led to the rise of new media and digital marketing methods and the decrease in popularity of some traditional methods you know well. It's also led to the debate between traditional vs. digital media.

2. Describe the way media has evolved. Do you think the changes brought by time on these concepts have helped humanity in the access of information? Cite studies that would support your claim.

To do this book review I was given a bound galley copy as it was not printed yet. I had it with me at a seminar. People noticed the book and asked me about it." Is this the next FieldbookV" How did you get this?" Suddenly, I found myself connecting with people beyond the surface pleasantries. I was experiencing change because of this book. In our work improving performance we initiate change. We identify gaps, analyze causes and recommend a wide array of interventions. These interventions are designed to create change that will be beneficial and long lasting to the organization. But as Senge points out in the beginning of this book, most change efforts fail because they do not produce the hoped-for results. It is important for us to be skilled at initiating and sustaining change. We have to help our clients deal with the challenges of change so they don't become discouraged and revert to the original systems and behaviors that caused their performance gap.

3. Do you think traditional media is still relevant these days?

1 note · View note

solecize · 5 years

Text

. . . 𝑩𝑨𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑼𝑺 (PT15) |

— — jung jaehyun is the beloved captain of your university’s basketball team. you’re a freshman in the school ballet company and somehow get roped into giving him dance lessons. the issue is that your brother is lee taeyong aka jaehyun’s on-court rival, who broke his little sister’s heart. that’s where you, revenge, and a little bet come into play.

MAY 19TH. 7:11 PM KST.

“hey, loser.” you bumped jaehyun with your hip after you noticed him waiting around for you after your rehearsal. he leaned on the eggshell hued walls, head hung low with a thick, fleece hooded sweatshirt on—far too thick for the spiral of may spring to summer. as soon as you made contact with him, jaehyun shifted off his back and yanked one of his airpods out of his ear. the closer you looked at him, you started to notice his attire that consisted of basketball shorts and the jordans that you grew to detest over the course of the lessons you were forced into giving him. the duffel bag hanging over his shoulder. your mouth formed an ‘O’ and looked over to the clock on the wall, realizing where jaehyun had just arrived from.

“we won.” that was all jaehyun had to say for you to start squealing like a maniac, jumping up and down in your practice gear in the middle of the studio lobby. he laughed at your reaction, dimples appearing on the side of this mouth.

you grinned from ear to ear. “i heard hanyang is playing you in the semis since they barely managed to beat bsu. you guys are gonna have no problem with them.”

he raised an eyebrow at you. “you keep up with my competition, huh?” jaehyun was teasing, as per usual, but that didn’t prevent you from giving him his usual elbow to the gut. he groaned when you made contact with his ribs, but it seemed as though he was used to it by this point in time.

“more like my brother’s.”

the two of you made identical grimaces at the mention, which caused both of you to burst out into laughter. one of the ballet dancers that continued to stick around after rehearsal shot a dirty look in your direction. you rolled your eyes.

you mentioned, “you know, taeyong’s been having a really hard time, apparently. i don’t know what it is, but that’s what qian told me has been happening with the panthers lately.” deep inside, you had a feeling that it was due to you. he’d always been the overprotective type and it would crush you if you found out that his concentration wasn’t the same because you were slightly kinda seeing his arch rival in the only sport he loves.

jaehyun simply nodded at this information, a neutral expression on his face. this surprised you, expecting a little bit more emotion out of me, perhaps happiness. it was refreshing.

“but, for real, it’s not even a matter of me putting in the effort to research each and every team,” you shrugged. “taeyong just can’t keep his big mouth shut. he could be going to the washroom and brag on about it.”

jaehyun picked up your dance bag for you, draping the strap of the duffel over the top of his own. he stretched out his hand and led the way for the two of you to leave, as you clutched the top of his bicep. the sun was almost gone by this point and the wind picked up for the night, leaving you chilly when the basketball player opened the exit door for you. he instantly gave you his jacket.

“i’ll be most likely facing him in the finals, as usual.”

the concept wasn’t anything new, as it was often the yc serpents going up against either the ku panthers or the haerin tigers. they were like the king trinity among all schools when it came to sports and it was always one of these three schools that would come out on top in the finals. jaehyun’s father “was stressed as fuck,” as johnny often put it when he would make the team do some excessive workouts and be extra rough with his words when coaching.

you’re the coach’s son? was something that you asked out of bewilderment as soon as you found out about this fact. however, it all made sense to you. not only did jaehyun possess the best leadership among everyone on the team, but because his father was the coach, he was extra hard on jaehyun, which allowed him to grow as a basketball player.

as a person, though?

debatable, to say the least. however, after spending so much time with jaehyun, there was definitely a good in him that you failed to recognize during your first initial meetings. on and on, after the late night facetimes and early morning coffee runs, you easily saw through jaehyun’s barriers. he was tired and had a lot of pressure on his shoulders.

“how are you doing?” you asked him all of a sudden. “not just your body, doofus. how are you feeling?” while jaehyun flexing his arm muscles was very entertaining, you wanted to focus on him.

when the two of you finally stepped outside, jaehyun began to lead the way. the male started walking you back to your dorm whenever you had a relatively late rehearsal. one time, however, he did show up at three and you started to figure that he was just using it as an excuse to talk to you. you didn’t even care, enjoying his company too much.

you pretended to not see jaehyun gulp. “it’s. . . been fine. left way, yeah?” he pointed to the same gravelly path that he’d been taking you on to get home since you guys started to hang out.

“are you fine?’ a sad attempt as a joke, but a faint smile seems to still dance upon mr. jung’s lips.

“honestly? no.”

this made you stop right in your tracks. looking over to jaehyun on your side, he stopped as soon as you did. you could hear the wind gusting through the growing spring leaves and the faint chatter of students from farther away, as you stood still on a random concrete road with jaehyun.

you asked, “um., what’s the problem?” for whatever reason it was, your heartbeat began to quicken and it was almost as if you knew exactly what was going to happen next.

and so, it happened. jaehyun first gently put two hands on either side of your waist, just looking straight into your eyes with his chocolate hued ones. it was freezing for may, especially at night, but all over your insides seemed to suddenly burn hot. he gripped them slightly tighter after you placed your hands on his shoulder. he was slowly leaning in, eyes closed, and you had to think for a moment on how to even do this again.

the second kiss was, without a doubt, sweeter than the first one. this time around, it felt familiar and warm and everything seems to be in the right place. the spring to summer haze does wondrous things to some people. before you knew it, you were pulling jaehyun closer and deepening the kiss that seemed long overdue.

pulling back jaehyun only asked you two words: “will you?” you didn’t even have to ask for more or an explanation because you knew exactly what it was. he could have simply given you a look and you would know exactly what was going on. this was a moment that needed no words. the only thing you did was let out an unconscious laugh; only because you could have never predicted this happening, especially not with jaehyun.

that night, you walked away as jung yoonoh’s girlfriend.

MAY 20TH. 9:38 PM KST.

the last thing you wanted to do was have to take someone to the hospital again. after witnessing jaehyun both fall on his had and dealing with bringing him to a person of professional medical service was taxing. athletes were stubborn, you were lazy, and it was flat-out gross. you made a note to never watch contact sports when you were little and have stuck by it since.

however, the last person you thought you would have to help was johnny.

the two of you were in the school weight room in the evening, both having entered separately with different people. you’d come in with sooyoung, as you guys gossiped on a pair of treadmills situated side by side together on the slowest levels because neither of you actually liked cardio. eventually, you noticed that the centre of the university mens’ basketball team, johnny, made his way in with another senior, taeil. you guys weren’t the closest, unlike your newfound friendship with doyoung and sicheng, who you’d begun to hung out with at least a couple times in the past while. johnny still gave you a quick smile and wave when he noticed you on the treadmill.

sooyoung eventually left because she needed to get some sleep to wake up early in the morning for cheerleading practice (go serpents!!). this left you alone, but you couldn’t care less, since you mostly worked out with headphones right over your ears. the only thing that the headphones couldn’t exactly cover up were the sounds of johnny in pain.

you didn’t have to even see it happen to realize that it was most likely the tear of the acl, seeing johnny grip his knee in excruciating pain. taeil was kneeling down beside him, trying to calm him down. you felt a heavy weight fall at the bottom of your stomach and you immediately paused your music, speed walking right over there.

“are you okay? should we go to the hospital?” you gaped, kneeling beside taeil.

“what? no hospital, plea—ah, holy fuck.” johnny attempted to speak, but the pain was all too much for him.

“he wasn’t supposed to be working with those weights because the doctor said it would aggravate a previous injury,” whispered taeil, who was beginning to sweat out of panic. “infirmary? come on, this looks serious.”

“no, i don’t need it!” johnny’s booming voice surprised me. “i’m—motherfucker—going to let everyone down! the last two games are this week, i can’t believe i fucked up this bad.” the six foot tall male continued grunting and groaning in pain, while taeil went against his wishes and called someone, seemingly for instructions.

“you didn’t fuck up, you didn’t let everyone down,” you attempted to calm johnny now, who was beginning to cry. you weren’t sure if it was out of physical pain or because of his thoughts. “johnny, everyone on that teams knows that you’re a hard worker and that you’re here to win. they’ll understand. and if you’re fine, even better!”

“text and call everyone on the team, including coach andy if you have his number.” taeil was already starting to help johnny up and put him in a more comfortable position. “the medics are coming, you’re going to the hospital.”

johnny let out another string of curse words.

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