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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 3 years

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When Clary meets Ash (Fan Fic)

Hey :) this is how I imagine Clary and Ash's reunion (after the events of TDA) in the fic I am currently writing.

It's Chapter 5 of "The new Shadowhunter Academy" (Ao3 link to the full fic is here but don't click or skip Chapter 4 if you are not in for Kitty sexy times).

Thanks to @amchara for providing beta work and to @blaidr for letting me bounce my ideas off him.

To give you context, Ash met Dru in Faerie and they exchanged their numbers. Clary seized the opportunity to obtain Ash's number from Dru and write him the following text message:

“Hey, Ash. Dru gave me your number and please don’t be angry with her, I am very strong headed and there was absolutely no way she could have refused. I am Clary. You may have heard of me. I am your late father’s sister. That’s right, your aunt. You can call me whatever you like. Emma told me what you did in Thule, how you saved her. How you saved everyone. That was very brave of you. In a way, both of us were faced with a very difficult choice and made the same. Doing what we thought was right. I would love to meet you and tell you about my mother – your grandmother – or just talk about anything. It can be things totally unrelated to the Shadow world. Hobbies, movies, books and games we like. You can pick the time and place. Neutral territory. Hope to see you soon. Clary.”

This is what happens following the text:

*****

Clary wrapped her oversized woolen coat tighter around herself, as she made her way through the crowded streets of Manhattan. The route was familiar. She took it almost every week to meet up with her parabatai and have what they called their “mundane hour”. They talked about everything, from Clary’s art to the latest TV shows they had binge watched. No topic was off the table, save for anything related to Shadowhunter duties, and the Shadow world in general. As co-head of the New York Institute and since recently, artist owning her own gallery, her weeks were very busy so she looked forward to those rare and precious moments when she could escape with Simon. Her heart rate seemed to accelerate with each of her steps, and it didn’t help that she also had the strange feeling she was being observed. When she reached her destination, she took a deep breath and opened the double glass doors leading her inside the coffee shop. She and Simon had their regular routine there, and her gaze went automatically to their usual spot, near the large windows.

A broad-shouldered jock with a baseball jacket was already sitting there, speaking loudly to his cheerleader girlfriend. Two of his friends were standing next to him, mock punching his muscular arms. It made her realize that Ash probably never had this. High school friends and romance. Ash. She was still struggling to figure out why he had asked her to meet up at this place, at the exact time she usually got there with Simon. Was it him being considerate, a clumsy way to make her feel comfortable in familiar surroundings? Or was it a warning? I know your habits, and precisely where you take your coffee, when and with whom.

Her gaze swept over the crowded room - her heart seemed to have moved up her throat, the frantic pulse almost choking her - and zeroed on a tall, white blond haired boy ordering coffee at the counter, standing with his back to Clary. She sucked in a breath. Ash. He was fully clothed in black - Dru had told her that was his usual style - and huge headphones were covering his ears. She slowly and cautiously approached him and when she was close enough, put a tentative hand on his elbow. “Ash,” she whispered. The boy glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes quizzical and… it was not Ash.

She mumbled an apology.

“Clary,” said a voice coming from behind, and she froze. It was not a boy’s but a man’s voice, the sound beautiful and ethereal. She just stood there for a few seconds before she slowly turned.

What had she expected? Merely a taller version of the young boy with pointy ears and a sour expression that she had met three years before, dressed in the same refined velvet clothing threaded with gold that identified him as fey royalty?

If so, she had clearly been mistaken.

She blinked a few times to make sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks. He was tall, as she had anticipated (Sebastian had been after all). At least two heads taller than her and probably taller than Jace. But he was also very different from the Ash of her memories, from the sketches she had drawn of him after they had crossed paths. He had amazingly grown into his features, his face now the best combination of the Seelie Queen and Sebastian’s. As if he had picked the most alluring colours of the palette. And the result was… Stunning. Clary’s hand twitched, aching for a pencil.

He was not dressed in black, but in plain blue jeans and he had stuffed his hands in a very elegant, long pale gray cashmere coat. His white blond hair and pointy ears were concealed under a deep green beanie, the same colour as the scarf around his neck.

He arched a silvery eyebrow at Clary, his expression bemused, and she realized she was staring.

“Clary, seriously?” he said, his gently scolding tone at odds with his enchanting voice. “This guy isn't even half as good looking as me." He glanced pointedly at the patron in question, who was gaping at him, and shrugged. "No offense, dude,” Ash added as an afterthought.

He turned his attention to the barista. She was beautiful, dark skinned with long braided hair and pouty lips. “Hello, gorgeous. We’ll have a double espresso with oat milk and a dash of cinnamon for the lady and a plain black coffee for me.”

Clary stifled a gasp and tried to hide her discomfort. He knew exactly how she took her coffee, and she didn’t know how she felt about this.

The pretty barista nodded eagerly, her cheeks red and her big dark eyes dreamy as she stared at Ash. “Why don’t you… Go sit at your table and I’ll bring you your beverages when they are ready?” the girl offered enthusiastically. The long line of patrons that had formed behind Clary and Ash would probably disagree but she didn’t seem to care.

“That would be lovely,” Ash said in his euphonious voice. “And so are you.” He winked at her, and Clary wondered if she would need to catch her while she swooned. He paid before Clary even had a chance to reach for her purse.

“Come,” he said in a commanding tone, as he made his way to Clary and Simon's usual table. This was unnerving.

The jock seated there paused in the middle of his conversation with his girlfriend when he saw Ash stand casually next to him. Clary braced herself for a heated exchange, but she should have known better.

“You want to sit somewhere else,” Ash said evenly, one hand inside the pocket of his designer coat and the other stretched out in front of him as he studied his fingernails.

“I want to sit somewhere else,” the jock repeated in a monotonous voice, his gaze blank. He stood, as if in a trance, and his girlfriend and friends followed him, puzzled, to an empty table at the far end of the room.

Ash drew a chair for Clary and she sat. He did the same, opposite her. He pulled off his beanie, and shook his silvery hair, like a crown of liquid white gold. He wasn’t dressed for the part but he had never looked more like a prince.

“Ash… please don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Your mind tricks.”

He cocked his head and observed her, his face unreadable, for what seemed like an endless minute.

“You’ve been my aunt for what? Five minutes? And you’re already trying to boss me around?”

“I am not trying to boss you around, Ash. Simply asking you not to abuse your powers.”

A shadow flickered across his green eyes.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Clary. I spend much more time and energy holding back than using my powers. If I did let go, trust me, you would know.”

Clary opened her mouth to reply but was cut short as the barista popped in front of them and placed the mugs on the table. She slid a paper napkin to Ash, her phone number scribbled on it. Clary tried not to roll her eyes, as Ash flashed his dazzling smile at the girl, who almost tripped on her own feet as she returned to the counter.

Clary lifted her cup to her lips and paused, as she caught sight of the cinnamon powder floating on the surface. She put it down.

“What about this?" She pointed at her coffee mug and waved around them. “ What is it, if not a show of power? What are you trying to tell me? That you know everything about me? That you’ve been spying on me?”

Ash pulled on a fake shocked expression, mouth open and green eyes wide in mock innocence. “Spying on you? What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Ash. The evidence is right here.” She lifted her cup abruptly, and hot liquid splashed out of it. “You know exactly how I like it. When I take it, where I take it.”

Ash’s mouth twitched. “Where did you pick up these lines? From the script of some lame X-rated movie?”

“Adult movies have storylines?” Clary asked, arching her eyebrows.

“Of course they do. Where do you think the Grimm Brothers took their inspiration from?”

He grabbed the paper napkin and started mopping the coffee she had spilled on the table. The blue ink faded and the barista’s phone number vanished.

“You lost that girl’s number,” Clary noted.

Ash shrugged. “I have a girlfriend now.”

Right. Drusilla Blackthorn. From the moment she had met her, Clary had known that the smart and quiet turquoise-eyed girl would someday turn heads.

Clary knew that Dru hadn’t really confirmed their relationship status yet, but it was neither the time nor place to broach the subject with Ash. She was, after all, on a mission to win over her nephew and had not been doing a very good job so far.

A young lanky boy with pink hair and piercings covering his skin walked by and dropped a glossy flyer of the upcoming Mortal Instruments concert on the table between them. Clary hid a smile. It reminded her...

“I have something for you.” She said as she fumbled inside her bag and took out the drawing she had made of Jocelyn, Luke and herself, in front of Luke’s upstate farm (before it was turned into the new Shadowhunter Academy) and laid it on the table.

Ash looked at it hesitantly, like a kid who really wanted to grab the candy but was afraid there was a mouse trap under it. He hunched his shoulders forward and clasped his hands under the table, as if to keep himself from temptation.

“I recognize your art. I like it. I also appreciate Julian Blackthorn’s but I may not be as objective where… one of the subjects of his drawings is concerned.”

“You’ve seen my art?”

He leaned back on his chair, crossing his long arms behind his head. Somehow, he managed to make it look graceful.

“Which Shadowhunter hasn’t? I noticed that you often drew Jace with angel wings.”

“Yes. That’s how he used to appear to me. In recurring dreams.”

“Was it?”

“Was it what?”

“Jace. In your dreams.”

“Who else would it be?”

“Someone who looks like him, but who actually has wings.”

“You mean Kit.”

Ash shrugged. “It would make more sense.” His gaze flickered back to the drawing, which still lay on the table, untouched. “You look a lot like your mom.”

“So do you”, Clary blurted before she could take it back.

Ash shot her an unfathomable look.

“How is she?” She asked.

“You mean, the Seelie Queen? You tell me. You must see her more often than I do.”

“Well, not really. I am not that involved in politics, even though Alec is Consul. Julian Blackthorn is the one who deals with her most of the time. She appears to have... a fondness for him.”

“Who doesn’t?”

Clary’s mouth quirked up.

“I am glad you are getting along with the Blackthorns. They are such an incredibly strong and talented family.”

“They are.” He turned his face away, but not before she could see the expression of longing plain on his delicate features.

She swallowed. She was painfully reminded that Ash never had a shot at a happy family. Born of a political union, and dragged here and there, though interdimensional portals, by people more interested in his powers than anything else he had to offer as a person. And judging by how Dru talked about Ash, he had a lot to offer.

“I imagine it must have been awful living in Thule… But what you did for Emma and Julian back there... if it hadn’t been for you…”

“I don’t want to talk about Thule,” he interrupted her. “Can I borrow this?” He asked, his long fingers brushing the Mortal Instruments concert flyer.

“Sure.”

She watched as he started folding the paper, realizing with a jolt of surprise that he was making an origami and wondering what shape would come out of it. It was odd seeing him doing such an innocuous thing, as if he was not a faerie prince with a heavy heritage and a giant target on his back, but an ordinary boy. She remembered what Emma had told her of her encounter with Ash in a nightclub in Thule. The way he had shown no interest, playing a video game in a corner of the room, while Sebastian was committing atrocities. Had he really been as indifferent as he looked?

“Ash, we don’t need to talk about Thule if you don’t want to, but if I can help you… If there is anything I can do-”

“Why?” He looked up sharply. “Are you able to create a rune that could undo the things I saw?” His tone was even, but his delicate fingers had started slightly shaking and he suddenly dropped the paper - his work unfinished - to fold his hands under the table to hide it. From that moment, she knew.

“No…” Clary said, drawing the word out. “But trust me, coming from someone whose memory has been tampered with... it’s not a solution.”

“I said undo. Not forget.” He snapped. “I am not such a coward that I would choose blissful ignorance over knowledge.”

He caught himself, blinking, then clenched his jaw and looked away. As if he was ashamed he had allowed himself to show any emotion at all. But Clary had managed to catch a glimpse of what lay underneath the mask and wanted nothing more than to see the rest of it.

“I don’t think you are a coward,” she said.

He looked over at her, a silver eyebrow raised. “I let it all happen, didn’t I? I didn’t lift a finger.”

“Because you couldn’t. Sebastian would have killed you. And you, Ash, are just like me. A survivor.”

He snorted and crossed his arms in front of him, leaning back on his chair. He had stretched out his long legs and Clary realized that he was tapping a foot nervously next to hers.

“Wrong. I could have. I chose not to. Because I am selfish. I don’t care about other people’s fate.”

His face split into a lazy, wicked grin. Clary could see Sebastian’s influence in his leer, but she wouldn't let it deceive her. Just as she wasn't fooled by his laid-back demeanor.

“I think it’s the opposite, actually. I think it’s because you care too much. It’s not death you are afraid of. The thing is, you have such a tender heart, you need to protect it from an affliction far greater than any physical pain you could endure. So you’d rather lie to yourself and pretend you feel nothing.”

From the long conversations she had with Tessa about her ancestors, Clary knew of a Fairchild boy who had been too compassionate for his own good. And he had been surrounded by loyal friends and loving parents, even though he had shut himself, putting on a facade while burying his grief in alcohol. Ash never had that kind of support. Throughout his life, he was left to figure things out on his own. If he was as empathetic as Clary thought he was, Ash probably had no other choice but to deal with his sensitivity alone. It was a miracle he had turned out the way he did.

“You have a lot of imagination,” he said after a moment. The ghost of a smile was still playing on his lips but something had passed across his eyes. “Then again, you are an artist. You seek beauty in the ugly. You find colors on a blank page. I admire your faith, but in this case, there is nothing to see.”

Clary jutted her chin stubbornly and they held each other’s gaze - his green eyes glittering in amusement and hers dead serious - in a staring contest.

“Still,” he said when he finally broke, first. “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I am sorry.”

Clary softened. “Don’t be. I am glad you are finally showing your true self. You don’t need to wear your mask around me, Ash.”

He chuckled. “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”

“It’s funny that you would quote Oscar Wilde.”

“And why is that?”

She shrugged. “Just another thing you share in common with a Fairchild I heard stories about.”

“Clary,” he said in a gently reproving tone. Her name sounded like a caress in his melodious voice. “Are you being purposefully cryptic to arouse my curiosity?”

She moved closer, so she was sitting at the edge of her chair, and leaned forward, hands folded over the table.

“If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine,” she whispered. “Let me in. Shed all pretense.”

“I can’t promise you that,” he whispered back in confidence, leaning closer still so that their faces were inches from each other. “It’s like fabric that burns and melts into skin. If you peel it off, the skin goes with it.” He grimaced, reclining on his chair. “It won’t be a pretty sight. I don’t think even my level of hotness could sustain it.”

“Ash…” Clary said, sensing that she finally had an opening to say what she had been brooding over ever since she had learnt of Ash’s return from that forsaken land. “I wanted to tell you… I am sorry.”

Ash’s green eyes widened.

“Sorry for what?”

“I should have looked for you. I should not have given up on you.”

Ash’s jaw clenched and he looked away. “Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do. Seb-...Ash, we...”

“What did you just call me?” He snarled. His eyes snapped back to her, suddenly cold as ice.

“Sorry, Ash. What I meant to say is… we are family."

“I already have a family.”

“I know that you care about Janus…”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” he cut her off.

“And we don’t need to. I just wanted you to know… I understand that he’s been like a father to you, and I don’t plan on moving against him, unless he strikes first or makes it impossible for me to overlook his actions.”

“Because of me?”

“Of course, because of you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Ash… You are my nephew, my blood. You may not feel the same way about me, but that’s how I feel about you. I want you to know that, if things go wrong, for any reason, you can always turn to me. My home is your home.”

“What you are actually telling me is, Ash, if I kill the one person who has ever really cared about you - and it might definitely come to that - you can always grab my hand, still sticky and warm from his blood. Well, how nice of you. To quote Oscar Wilde again, true friends stab you in the front.”

“That’s not what I am-”

“Clary,” Ash interrupted as he stood. “Do not make me choose between you and him. Because…” Looking down at her, he swallowed hard, as if the words pained him. “Because you will lose.”

She knew exactly what he was telling her. Because they were the same in that way. Ruthless, even with their own blood, when it came to protecting their loved ones. If I had to choose between killing him and you, I would not hesitate. I would end you. Yet, despite his cold statement, despite his sharp and resolved tone, his eyes seemed to carry a deep regret.

“Ash, I understand what you're saying and I swear I am not trying to make you pick a side”, Clary said, suddenly desperate, as she mirrored him and stood. “Please don’t go. I am sorry I brought it up. We will stop talking about him. Starting now.”

“This was a bad idea. Never try to contact me again.” He drew his green beanie from the pocket of his coat and put it back on. He turned and strode toward the exit. She grabbed the family drawing that still lay on the table, stuffed it in her bag and followed him, half-running, as he was quickly losing here with his long legs.

“Ash! Please. Give me another chance. I am so sorry.”

He paused right outside the coffee shop, closed his eyes and sighed. “Don’t be. It didn’t change what I had planned to tell you anyway. I don’t want to know anything about you or your mother. I don’t want to have anything to do with either of you.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” she said, and he whipped his head around to look at her in surprise. “I know you were under house arrest. You probably had to break out of whichever place they were holding you in to come here. You wouldn’t have done that unless you wanted something. Something from me. Tell me, Ash. Tell me what it is.”

He turned his face away so she could not see his expression. A full minute passed and she had almost given up on receiving an answer, when he finally spoke.

“My fa… Sebastian. How different do you think he would have been if not for the demon blood?”

“Oh. Ash.” she whispered. She brought her knuckle against her sternum instinctively, as if to cover the gaping whole in her chest. “I saw him, you know. The brother I should have had. The father that should have raised you. If only for a few minutes.” She paused to bite back tears. “In those few minutes, he told us how to get rid of the Endarkened and said he was sorry. It’s not much to go for, but… that’s not all. I have recurring dreams of the green eyed boy that was robbed from us. And I know in my heart he would have been the best brother a sister could ever dream of.”

He was still looking away and she could see the sharp line, the stubborn set of his jaw. She wanted to hug him, to tell him she would not fail him again. That they could mourn her brother, his father, together. That he didn’t need to bear the anger at everything that was wasted alone.

He finally turned to look at her. A tear had escaped to run freely down his cheek. He had completely shed off his mask, and what Clary saw was like a stab in her gut. She shivered. Wordlessly, he reached for his deep green scarf and tied it gingerly around her neck. The way Sebastian had when they had walked down the streets of Paris. Ash looked nothing like her brother had then. His green eyes held an infinite sadness that spoke of a grief deeper, older than the short years of his life.

“It doesn’t change anything.” He said - she hadn’t imagined his beautiful voice could sound so hollow - and turned to leave.

“Ash, wait.” She grabbed him by the elbow and he froze. His eyes widened as his gaze zeroed on the fingers covering his coat, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. She realized she had never touched him before.

“Clary, what do you want from me?” He asked in a tired voice.

“I just want to get to know you.”

“Trust me, you don’t. I am not the brother who was stolen from you. I cannot replace him. If anything, I am just like Sebastian was before me... my father’s broken toy. There is no way to fix me.”

“I don’t believe it for a second,” she said, almost frantic. “And I don’t want to find my brother's replacement, I want to get to know you! Ash. The real Ash.”

“I already told you. That’s not happening. Don’t ever try to contact me again. I am serious.”

“So that’s it?” She tried not to sound too whiny but panic was eating away at her stomach and she thought she would throw up. “You went through all this trouble spying on me, learning how I take my coffee to simply disappear from my life from one moment to the next?”

He gazed at her for a moment, his expression unfathomable. It seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke.

“I was not spying on you, Clary. I was merely following your stalker.”

“What? You were… protecting me?”

“Take care of yourself, Clary.”

He said as he stepped away from her and vanished into the crowd.

****

Clary threw herself in Jace’s arms as soon as he opened the door to their bedroom at the New York Institute. He froze, then started stroking her hair in a soothing gesture.

“Clary, what happened? Is everything okay?”

“No,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

“Tell me, Clary. What is it?”

She pulled away and wiped tears with the back of her hand. Jace’s face was a mask of shock. Clary couldn’t blame him. She almost never cried.

“I messed up.”

“What did you mess up?”

She walked to the bed and sat on the mattress. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for his reaction. “Ash. I met up with him earlier today.”

Jace tensed and his hands clenched into fists. “WHAT- Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you would have insisted on coming.”

“Damn right, I would have. And I would have been right, too. Look at you, you look miserable.”

“It’s my fault,” she said in a small voice. “I pushed him too far.”

Jace sighed and came to sit next to her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder. “I am sure you did nothing wrong, Clary.”

“I thought- When I showed him the drawing… the way he looked at it, Jace. He is not indifferent. He cares.”

“What drawing?”

“The one I made of the family,” she said absently, as she grabbed her bag and started fumbling inside.

She sucked in a sharp breath. The drawing wasn’t there. Peeking out in its stead, and folded out of the flyer of the Mortal Instruments concert, were origami faerie wings. The Fairchild family symbol.

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tothedarkdarkseas · 5 years

Note

For fanfic writer ask meme: E, J, K, M, P(for any fic or all your fics), R, T, X, and Y. (If that's too many questions, then you can split the answer into multiple posts. Also, no need to answer if you already answered these questions before.)

Thank you so much! I’ll put these below a cut just to account for the length, and I pray Tumblr works like it’s supposed to this evening! I appreciate you having an interest!

E: What character do you identify with most? Is there a certain fic of yours that captures these qualities particularly well?

I really do not identify with Gorillaz characters and thank god for it, or most characters I tend to prefer! Haha, I know that might sound a bit strange, but I can think of very few characters I’d call “my favorite” that I also felt were a reflection of myself in a major way. Of course that isn’t implying that representation isn’t important, but just speaking for my own personal relationship to media– I live with myself all the time, I like people who live very different lives! Having said that, of the characters I write (all two, possibly three of ‘em) I’d say I identify with some of Stu’s worst qualities over anything else: being unambitious but craving reward, self-centered yet lacking in a concrete sense of self, dumb about mostly everything, overcompensating (to be fair, this is Murdoc as well) and so on. Despite picking fun at him I definitely have an affection for an unlikable guy like Stu, I do have sympathy for being sorta pathetic because I feel like I can access that.

J: What’s your favorite fanfic trope? Have you written it?

Hmm! That’s hard to say! At the risk of being an absolute knob, I don’t tend to be a fan of tropes, or at least what I think is meant here by “fanfic tropes” like uhh… the heat goes out and we have to share a bed, or that kind of thing? Is that what this means, the sort of repeated setups for fics? There’s of course a place for everything so I’ve got no real beef with more innocuous stuff, but I wouldn’t say I ever pick to read something because it’s got a “classic” trope. I’m definitely rife with tropes in the broader sense though, I’m rife with things I like and clearly just repeat, haha. I do not smoke pot, but I have a real affinity for characters who do, and this is evidenced by having like… half my stories feature that, haha. If a scene where two characters creep up to being intimate via sharing a joint/bowl/bong counts, that’s definitely a trope I’ve done and would probably do again.

K: Do you have a guilty pleasures in fic (reading or writing)?

Does the above count? I’d certainly call myself self-indulgent, haha, I like what I like and I don’t stray very far from it. I think unsatisfying or incompatible intimacy is really interesting and I honestly never get tired of reading or writing that. (Er, as much as I “don’t get tired” of writing anything, which is not saying much as I’m very bad and undisciplined.)

M: What’s the weirdest AU scenario you’ve ever come up with? Did it turn into a story?

The only AU I’ve written is Coffin Dancer, which is a story set in the early 1900s about Murdoc being a reanimated corpse and Stu being a gravedigger who buries/exhumes him. Sexy, I know, nothing hotter than… long paragraphs about digging. I think the occult element makes that one a bit weirder than anything else I’ve come up with. I’ve kind of entertained other AU ideas but they tend to be a lot more mundane, to be frank I just really like the characters as they are and I don’t want to change their dynamic too much. As a joke I once suggested something about a riverboat casino (Stu working there, Murdoc trying to pull a money laundering scam via currency exchange, potentially convincing Stu to go in on the scam with him) and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still think about it sometimes and question how to make it work, haha. I think it might be fun to do an AU again, but I think there’s just too much of a gap between what I’d want to do or be capable of doing, and what people actually want to read.

P: Where did you find the most inspiration for your story ?

Oh gosh, this makes it sound so important and I feel like the biggest jag going to pretend I’ve made anything that great or with particularly impressive roots, haha. A couple came from prompts, so that’s a fairly straightforward answer.

I first began planning Coffin Dancer because I was playing Graveyard Keeper on Steam at the time, haha. If you load up this game, you’ll quickly see there is next to no plot and it is simply a crafting sim. I just sorta… liked the setting, I guess? It is the 1900s and it does follow a graveyard keeper! Following that, I decided it would be a story about Murdoc’s skin turning from tan to green as it does in canon, but giving it a bit of a morbid tint, as opposed to the vague canon handwaves of Murdoc being “immortal” with no clear explanation of what that means.

Ampersands was mostly inspired by me being a big Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan and thinking it’d be fun to show a dynamic similar to Angelus/Drusilla/Spike, but heavily reworked to fit our characters. The first scene I imagined was the shoelace-tying one which has some resemblance to a shot of Angelus knelt at Spike’s feet while still mocking him, and that ended up being the very last scene I wrote (and probably one of the weaker ones.)

On Oysters and Black Water was actually the story that required the least research from me, as I already had an interest in oyster filtration and oyster reef restoration. By no means am I an expert nor is this story a genuinely educated look at this process (I am Genuinely Educated on zero things) but I definitely knew when planning a PB story that I wanted oysters to be used for a filtration system on the island, just as a little nod to something I find neat!

R: Which writers (fanfic or otherwise) do you consider the biggest influence on you and your writing?

This really puts me at risk of sounding knobbish, so to start with: I’m not really a writer. Fanfiction writer is already not the most impressive title, but even that I feel is a little generous for me. I’ve written things, but I struggle far too much and have too little dedication to pretend it’s something I feel “cut from the same cloth” as these folks to do. The writers I admire have “influenced” me in the sense that I’ve wished I could write that way, and I’ve probably/definitely ripped them off.

Some will find this laughable, but I’m a fan of Joey Comeau’s writing style. I’ve enjoyed every book he’s published, in particular the short novels Malagash and Lockpick Pornography, and especially his… err, non-novel collection of cover letters Overqualified. (I think I’ve read Overqualified more than anything else on my bookshelf, but this is saying very very little as you can sit down and read it in about 30 minutes.) The darkly comedic way he presents these ideas, how he’ll expand on these very offbeat details and veer so far from the topic, then take sudden sharp turns into something uncomfortable is just enjoyable to me.

Also somewhat cliched now, but Peter S. Beagle’s The Last Unicorn is a beautiful book to me. Beagle’s writing style is ideal for the fantasy setting, the poetry in his prose does not tip over the “purple” line for me (but I’ve always been unclear where the line is, obviously) and I’d really… feel like I’d accomplished something if I could say anything half as powerful as this book.

Shirley Jackson, (famously) the author of The Lottery and (less famously) We Have Always Lived in the Castle springs to mind as well. The latter in particular has a gothic tone, an at times strange sentence structure and an unreliable POV, which probably influenced Coffin Dancer stylistically and everything else I’ve done in perspective/structure.

But as far as influences, nothing more directly influenced me than @elapsed-spiral‘s writing and characterization. Old drum I’ve beat before, but it’s simply the truth. I would not have tried to write fanfiction again (after… many, many years) if I hadn’t found Danni’s stories and felt that excitement of reading something truly special. Now, it’s important to note that Danni is British so they’ll come out in hives if I praise them too much, but sincerely nothing in recent years has made me feel a “passion” for reading or writing like Yearz did. The oneshots Fairy Vale and Beside the Sea also deserve special mention for just being goddamn phenomenally good character studies. “Influence on your writing” could be misleading, in the sense that Danni’s biggest strengths (namely Being Funny, Being Realistic and Knowing What You Are Talking About) are among my biggest weaknesses, and I don’t feel that stylistically we’re all that similar; on the flipside though, I think so much of my “improvement” is really owed to Danni, aaaand I don’t think you’d ever look at something I’ve written and miss the fact that it’s ripping off Yearz in one way or another.

T: Any fanfic tropes you can’t stand?

Ahaha, alright, this jogs my memory and I do remember stepping on eggshells to answer this before! I mentioned above that I’m just not a big fan of tropes in general, but that means nothing as I don’t… have good taste. I never have. Famously bad taste over here. I don’t have any interest in raining on anyone’s fun or policing fan content, but I think we’re all perfectly fine just co-existing without feeling obligated to anything. More than anything else, in Gorillaz specifically I’d say there are some portrayals of their relationship that I find a little dodgy and I tend to avoid, but I recognize full well that many people may feel the same way about me! I also just like the characters to be compelling and to be themselves, whatever your version of them is. Of course my characterization is bonkers and mostly made-up and I have no expectation that someone else’s should resemble mine, but even if we have different ideas, I don’t like to feel you can slot them out and anyone else in? Which is why standard tropes like “coffeeshop” or “fake dating” don’t tend to be my favorite. Oh, I’m also a fuddy-duddy and I don’t love the nicknames, haha.

X: How would you categorize your fanfic reading? Are you a voracious reader? Do you carefully pick and choose? Something in between?

I’m not a very big reader these days! I’d like to offer you a good excuse here, but I’m just picky, truth be told.

Y: What are your thoughts on your personal satisfaction with something you’ve written vs. the popularity of your stories? Do you tend to be most satisfied with your most popular stories?

In total honesty, it takes all of about a month to become completely unsatisfied with anything I’ve written. That’s not like, a plea for sympathy, it’s just being objective. I write comparatively little and comparatively slow, so whatever growth that may happen is still pretty limited and it’s a little disheartening, even if it’s also my own fault for having poor discipline. I would not call any of my stories “good,” at best “good for what they are.” There are definitely some I wished did better, I wished with a stupid amount of sincerity would hit some magical validating number that would Suddenly Mean It Was Good… but after a little distance, I can always understand why they wouldn’t.

Hoooowever, some are undeniably worse than others. Based on both hits and kudos, my most popular story is my first one (I Couldn’t Feel, So I Would Touch) and this is truly baffling as it’s garbage. I mean, with no exaggeration I just think this is bad writing through and through, it’s truly just the worst thing I’ve written over the age of 20. I hoped I’d get this question purely because of this, haha, I feel such shame every time I see this story at the top of my statistics page. If we consider that to be the “most popular,” no, I do not tend to be most satisfied with the most popular story. We could define that differently though; for example, I think the story that got the most notes here and I received spectacular fanart on (a thing I just… can’t believe can happen, how nice is that?) was Oysters, and at a time I did consider that my favorite, I was incredibly proud of it when I posted, and even if I’ve grown exhausted by my overwriting too much to read it again I do still rate it pretty favorably compared to the others. So it depends on what constitutes popular! But if we’re just talking hits and kudos, sadly my stats page puts some of the worst stuff at the top.

#i've got to head to bed so i apologize if there are any glaring errors in this answer!#Anonymous #thank you very much for the letters! that's a kindness!

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chocolatemillkk · 6 years

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Red-Handed II (JS)

Request 1:Can u do a imagine (Joe) where You guys do a video on Reading imagines/fanfics?❤️

Request 2:Is there a chance that you could do a part two to show the teasing??

[Part 1]

It had been a couple weeks since the horrifying incident and since then, I made sure to stay clear of imagines and I made doubly sure to delete Joe's finger print from my phone. He lost his privilege, emergency or not.

I had missed Joe that morning, had a lie in, and then dragged myself to an afternoon shift at work. I promised my friend last week to cover her reception shift this week as she was on holiday, but as a result, I didn't see my boyfriend as much. By the time I came home, it was half past seven, and I could hear Joe's music playing softly mingled with the sizzling of a pan.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," I stop in the middle of the entryway and wait for Joe to notice me. His face relaxes into a smile when he spots me and rummages in the cupboard for a wine glass-pouring me a generous portion.

"At least it's the end of the week," Joe reasons. I nod and watch him cook, sipping the wine, and relishing the mundanity

"How was your day?" I ask when I could muster up enough energy. "Talk to me about you."

"Nothing too exciting," Joe glances at me. "Had a conference call with Zo, had to do some admin, and I was trying to come up with a good idea for a video."

"Still don't have one?" Joe had been asking me for ideas since Wednesday.

"No," Joe groans. "I've been so busy with other things I just feel blocked."

"We'll think of something together-I'll help you with anything." I reach out and squeeze his hand. He leans over the countertop and kisses me, it tastes like black pepper and I tell him that.

"I'm trying to season this fish," Joe laughs.

"It makes me hungry," I chuckle, moving around the counter to swipe a carrot.

"Oi," Joe grabs me by the waist before I can escape and pulls my back into his chest and I giggle. "Don't eat dinner before it's served!"

"I'm hungry!" I whine but Joe tickles me in response. I wriggle and get out of reach but my back soon hits the counter and he traps me in place.

"You have no self-control, woman."

"It's part of my charm." I grin at him.

"Well good thing I like being in control," Joe suddenly changes into a deep-what he thinks is funny-sexy voice.

"Joe," I say seriously in my cross voice. "Don't start."

Joe leans down and brushes his nose against my neck before leaving kisses to my collarbone. I stretch over and turn the oven off, I didn't want anything to burn.

"What's a sexy line I can say?" Joe looks back up at me with a goofy grin. "Let's imagine one together."

"Joe!" I push him off with a smile. "I'm way too tired for this. And you promised you would stop teasing me!"

"But I thought you'd like this after I caught you-"

"Get your head out of your arse," I chuckle. "That was the first and last time I read anything about you. I want food right now, not weird story sex."

"You sure?" Joe raises an eyebrow. "I can't use my piercing gaze and my tongue that has a life of it's own?"

I cringe, "That sounds scary."

Joe sticks out his tongue and brings it closer to me as I back away but in one swoop he leans down and licks my cheek.

"I hope you know," I laugh. "You just got a tongue full of makeup."

"I know! I can taste it!" Joe says with a lisp as he runs to the tap. "It tastes like sun screen!"

I laugh and shake my head at him. "This is why we can't be sexy."

"I can give you fireworks and butterflies like they say I can," Joe finally says, wiping away droplets of water from his mouth.

"Babe are you reading your own imagines?" I ask and Joe goes pink. My jaw drops and I tease him, "Are we that self obsessed then?"

"No I swear it was-it's for research." Joe laughs but embarassment tints his cheeks and I can't help but gloat.

"Research to improve your skills as a lover?" I turn the tables on him, using his jokes against him.

"I don't-I don't need improvement," Joe mutters, turning back to dinner. "I was having fun teasing you the other week and then I was just fascinated and horrified at some of the things people write out there."

I wrap my arms around him, laughing. "So what's this 'research' for?"

"Well..." Joe turns to me. "So you did say you'd help me with anything right?"

"I don't like where this is going," I say.

"Okay I think it would actually be really funny if we reenact imagines."

"Joe your followers barely know I'm your girlfriend! That's-it's-we can't!"

"Come on!" Joe pulls his puppy face. "We can come out more officially-and we'll only do the PG-13 imagines."

"Don't give me that face," I rub his face with my hand and he pulls away laughing.

"So will you do it?" Joe asks.

"What do I get from this?" I sigh.

"Are you kidding me?" Joe grins and points to himself. "You get me!"

"I already have you!" I shout as I walk away. I wanted more comfortable clothes if this topic continued but Joe laughs knowing he'd won the deal.

•••

"Are you guys ready?" Josh asks at the camera. Joe had convinced Jack and Oli to join us as the imagine he chose had both of them in it. It also involved Jack touching me a lot so I wondered what Joe was up to.

But turns out, he hadn't realised what re-enacting actually ensued. Or he hadn't read the full imagine. The story's plot was Joe was in love with me but so was Jack and Jack had a lot of flirting bits. The reader had just added in Oli as a wingman and Oli performed that in a perfect, booming voice.

"A little quieter," Josh complains during the second half. I had dressed in the club dress the imagine outlined and so far had swerved a kiss from Jack that made Joe clench his jaw, danced with Joe as if we were at prom, and swooned at Jack's muscles like an 90s romcom.

"Joe's a wanker," Jack tries to bite back a giggle as he reads his script. "You deserve a real man like me. I can take care of you."

"Y/N looks over Jack and even though she could fall for those baby blues that pierced her soul, they weren't the eyes she wanted to fall for." Josh reads the narration. Jack and I bite back grins staring at the other and I hear Joe snort off screen. I couldn't believe he had roped me into all this but I was having fun with my role in all this. I put my hands on Jack's "broad shoulders" and lean into him.

"You're not the man I want," I was supposed to whisper sexily but Jack and I just collapse against the other giggling.

"Can we take this last scene seriously?" Josh shouts. He was hangry. We'd been filming for a couple hours now because Jack and I kept laughing and Oli kept shouting his lines. Joe was quieter than I thought through all this.

"It's so ridiculously far-fetched," I wipe my tears. "I can't help it!"

"Wait," Josh stops me wiping my other eye. "Leave the tears for the drama."

That only causes us to laugh more and Josh rolls his eyes.

"Josh would make a perfect Hollywood director." I whisper. "Okay, again!"

I put my hands on Jack's shoulders and leave the tears on my face. Jack clears his throat and we continue the scene. I kiss Jack on the cheek and he pretends to be hearbroken as the camera pans to me knocking on an imaginary door.

"Y/N," Joe answers the "door".

"Y/N looked at the sexy beast standing before him-hey that's what they called me at school-"

"Josh!" We all shout and he chuckles, apologising. I bet the unedited version of this video would be a lot funnier.

"...Joe doesn't have to hear Y/N say it. He already knows what was deep in her heart."

"Aw," Oli says absentmindedly and we all shoot him a dirty look. He mouths a sorry and goes back to his phone.

"So Y/N says I love you, and jumps onto Joe, and he catches her perfectly curved body as their lips meet in a fiery passion-Y/N you're supposed to jump."

Joe and I had been too busy staring at each other in horror.

"Did you actually read through this?" I said under my breath.

"I skimmed it," Joe admits. "Fucking hell-just jump already."

"Here goes," I say. I tell Joe I loved him which makes him smile and when I jump he catches me despite stumbling back.

"That looks like you two have practiced this...like you guys...have experience." Josh says right up against the mic.

Joe and I part from the final kiss and I laugh at Joe's mouth which is smeared with red lipstick. I had worn it on purpose.

"Josh you interrupt just as much as we screw up."

"The story's done!" Josh gets up from behind the camera and walks in front of it. "And scene!"

"Thank god," Joe says as I slide down. The boys look at him and start cracking up.

"You look like a bloody clown," Jack laughs.

"I feel like one," grumbles Joe and I wipe at his mouth affectionately. "Alright boys thanks for the help but we'll clean up on our own."

"Wait you're kicking us out? After we filmed for more than two bloody hours for you?" Jack asks.

"You promised you would feed me," Josh complains.

"We'll meet you at that Mexican restaurant in an hour and I'll pay-I'm gonna clean up first."

The boys complain and call Joe names but they leave and as soon as the door closes, Joe sighs against it. I smirk with my hand on my hip.

"Enjoyable?"

"I did not enjoy how much Jack seemed to enjoy that imagine."

"You're the one that chose it love," I laugh.

"I know," Joe stumbles towards me and reaches his hands to where the short dress ended. "I didn't realise how good you would look in this dress or how good you were at acting."

"Just admit you were jealous of mine and Jack's relationship," I tease.

"I...yeah alright." Joe buries his face in my neck. "You're mine."

"I'm yours," I laugh, stroking Joe's hair. "And you're mind despite what all these 'y/n's' think."

Joe crushes me to him and kisses me and I can tell he'd been wanting to do that since Jack's almost-kiss.

"Babe we should start cleaning if we want to make it," I tell him after.

"Oh I just used cleaning as an excuse to get the boys out," Joe winks.

"Oh. So...what did you have in mind?" I grin, catching on. "Another imagine?"

"No more imagines," Joe groans. "Ever. I promise I'll never bring that up."

"At least your followers will get a fun video."

"Yeah, and at least now I can do this, on and off camera." Joe pulls me to him and kisses me with a frantic urgency.

"I'm not going anywhere babe," I say when we part for a breath.

"Only to our bedroom," Joe says against my lips. We grin at each other like two conspirators having kicked our friends out for this. We rush upstairs, taking the stairs two and a time and laughing the whole way. Our bodies collide in the bedroom once again, continuing our story-this time, R-rated...

#joe sugg #joe sugg imagine #joe sugg imagines #youtube imagines #fic #thatcherjoe imagines #thatcherjoe imagine #thatcherjoe #jack maynard #oli white #josh pieters #buttercream gang #buttercream imagines #this is a word vomit #and i barely edited #so apologies #i just wanted to get this one out

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thefatfeministwitch · 7 years

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Everyday, as you’re getting ready to leave for work or hit the town with your friends or look for that perfect new job, you take stock of the general vibe of the day so you know how to approach it. You stick your head out the window to check the weather, notice how quick the second hand on your clock is moving, and try to read the dispositions of those you meet on the street. Every day has it’s own energy and when you walk out the door in the morning (or the afternoon, no judgements!) as a good little witch, it’s best to have your magickal arsenal backing you up!

Monday’s Witch is tranquil and white Tuesday’s Witch wields fire and might Wednesday’s Witch is wacky but wise Thursday’s Witch keeps their eye on the prize Friday’s Witch mixes coconut and lime Saturday’s Witch can bend space and time but the Witch who works on Sunna’s day will always bring bright blessings their way

The word “correspondences” doesn’t sound hella interesting or witchy, so don’t think of this as a post about magickal daily correspondences, think of this as your witchy weather report for the days of the week! Much like a daily horoscope (like the ones from Broadly, which I LOVE and check religiously), these daily bits of astrological magick will tell you the kind of spells to focus on, colours to wear and use, witchy tools to wield, or just in general how to be the best witch you can be that day. When you combine this daily witchery with things like moon phases, current astrolgoical phases, and the season you’re in with your own witchy intuition you have a fully fledged magical almanac.

One of my favourite things about daily magick is that it helps break up ruts and monotonous magical slumps. It gets you thinking magickally every day and gives you small things to focus on. Over time this builds into a great daily practice. You don’t have to be an expert, you don’t have to write your own horoscope or even be fully versed in astrology. I’m not! Every day and once a month I read a hororscope from Broadly, I get weekly and monthly astrology reports from Georgia Nicols in my inbox, and I love the Hoodwitch’s weekly witch tips. When we move into astrological seasons I trust other astrologers to give me the highlights, and the same with the astrological signs of the moon. I use that info from those brilliant people, with my own witchy knowledge of daily magick to give myself daily witchy forecasts so I have a head start on the day. I use a magickal day planner to keep it all in and make it look pretty and colourful so I can start the day off right. (OK SO YEAH I’M AN OFFICE SUPPLY NERD, OK??) This week I’ll be posting about the energy of the day every morning so you can start your day off right and maybe do a little magick.

Saturday

Planet: Saturn

Planetary Symbol: ♄Saturn’s sickle or scythe

Element: Earth, Spirit

Colours: Dark purple, dark blue, black, grey, dark green, wine red

Stones & Metals: Lead; obsidian, jet, black tourmaline, hematite, lapis lazuli, galaxyite, amethyst

Incenses, Herbs & Oils: Myrrh, Patchouli, Morning Glory, Mullein, Pomegranate, Mugwort, Rosemary

Tarot Cards: Knight of Swords, Two of Swords, The Hermit

Saturday was named after the roman god Saturn, who was a god agriculture, limitations and the passage of time. Saturday is a day to wrap up loose ends, to take it easy, to magical clean and cleanse your space and to look inward.

In addition to our infinitely patient god of earth and space, Saturday is Hekate’s day. Hekate was the all-powerful goddess of magick and witches. She is the patron deity of witches everywhere and is associated with the stages of life, the magick of all of the elements and even darker elements such as death and crossroads. Hekate is a goddess is gets stuff done, and Saturdays reflect this as a day to clear up everything that needs clearing up and even physical cleaning and getting your home in order.

Many of the plants and incenses associated Saturday are almost cliché witch herbs. Morning Glory, which is hallucinogenic and all consuming, Mugwort which aids in divination and magick (and just SOUNDS witchy!), Mullein which is used to talk with the dead and pomegranate, the food of the underworld. Myrrh is sweet and brings in a witch’s connection to the moon; patchouli creates a deep connection to the earth, and rosemary and hearty and stable.

The stones to use on Saturdays all seem to have very spacey and also somehow earthy energies. Black stones repel negativity, offer protection, are used in scrying and divination, are earthy and stabilizing, and are very cleansing. Jet, as an amber, is also a status symbol for witches and is worn by many high priestesses to denote rank. Lapis lazuli, galaxyite, and amethyst all work with your third eye and connect you to higher realms.

Types of Saturday Magick: spirit communication, star scrying, spiritual cleansing and clearing, all magic, spiritual and astral travel, warding, banishing, cursing and hexing, deity worship, grounding, shadow work, past life regression

Book of Shadows Tarot Vol. 2

The Halloween Tarot

The Housewives Tarot

Tarot: The Hermit shows an image of Saturn himself, father time. If it shows up in a Saturday reading, it’s time to look inward, slow down, and accesses your growth or progress. You can also use this as a representation or link to the god. The two of swords frightens people, but it’s about balance and about creating a choice. It signifies that now is the time to make a choice, any choice. Even the wrong choice pushes you forward. It’s a good card for those pushing themselves to get things done on Saturday. The Knight of Swords is a card of no fear! This is a card to give you strength when dealing with some of the darker magic that is done on Saturdays. You’ve made a choice and now is the time to dive in!

Dress for magickal success: Saturday is the day to break out all of the gothic items from the 80s you know you’re holding on to. Classically witchy looks like all black, dark purples, stars and galaxy prints and powerful feeling clothing items are for Saturdays. If you’re staying home and tending the garden of your life, earthy comfortable fabrics like cotton in subdued colours let people know you don’t need anything flashy to be powerful.

Sunday

Planet: The Sun

Planetary Symbol: ☉The sun at the centre of our galaxy

Element: Fire

Colours: Yellow, orange, gold, hot pink

Stones & Metals: Gold; carnelian, citrine, amber, tiger’s eye, fire opal, sunstone

Incenses, Herbs & Oils: Frankincense, orange, cinnamon, bergamot, cedar, rosemary, sunflower, st john’s wort

Tarot Cards: The Sun, Ace of Wands, The Chariot

It’s no mystery where Sunday got its name, and indeed it’s a day of bright, warm, illuminating and endlessly happy energy. Today’s a day to focus on everything you’ve accomplished in your life and spend it basking in the warmth of that feeling.

Sunna was the Norse goddess of the sun and drove the solar chariot across the sky that brought us the daylight. In ancient Rome and Greece, this exact action was accomplished by Helios and Apollo, respectively. Indeed, many people equate sun energy with more “masculine” energy. The Celtic’s revered the goddess Brighid as the keeper of fire – internal fire of emotion, the healing and cleansing fire, and fire of the hearth and home. (Sorry, gods!) All of these deities are described in similar ways, brightly shining, golden, infinitely happy and compassionate about their people. This is why Sunday is such a great day to spend with families.

Smells and plants associated with Sunday are warm and spicy like cinnamon, but combined with a more clearing scent like orange and frankincense. Cedar and Rosemary bring the outside in, and call in the smells and feelings of warm weather and plants that thrive in the sun. In its mundane life, St John’s Wort is used as an anti-depressant and calms anxiety, which makes it a great herb to accompany Sunday’s cheerful energy.

Though your fiery, red Mars stones and crystals from tuesday will help you get some things done today, consider some more gentle yellows instead. Reach for citrine and amber to bring sunshine, joy, and relaxation on a nice warm sunday. If you’re spending the day with your love, put a piece of sunstone in your bra or near your heart to add sexy and funny sun energy to your date.

Types of Sunday Magick: spells for happiness and love, spells for success for the following week, spells regarding family and familial relation, spells for illumination or clarification, rituals marking growth and abundance, candle magick

Maori Tarot

Witches Tarot

Tarot of Sexual Magic

Tarot: The Sun card is the obvious choice for Sunday tarot. The nice thing about the sun card is that it’s so happy and bright that no matter where it falls in a reading it lightens up every other card just a little bit. This is exactly the energy of Sunday. The Ace of Wands is the beginning of a fiery new journey. Everything is ahead of you now! Sunday is a time to start fresh, with new passion and creativity. The Chariot card could be travel or transportation – taking a Sunday drive with someone you love, maybe – but this is another card about balance and compromise. We all wish we could be the Sunday versions of ourselves forever, but eventually Monday will come and we’ll pull back into the calm, cool night. Don’t feel like you’re being pulled in two directions, recognize this time for what it is and make the most of it, and be ready to work with the energy of the other days of the week.

Dress for magickal success: Sunday’s energy is happy, but calm. Wear bright colours and simple patterns, or include suns, stars, and sparkles for a more brilliant sunny shine. Don’t bog yourself down with too much jewellery and wear comfortable shoes – this is a day to get out and celebrate your life. Wear something that makes you feel warm and comfortable inside and out, but that lets you move around and change direction spontaneously.

HAVE A GREET WEEK, WITCHES!

Some of my favourite sources of daily magick:

Magical Fashionista by Tess Whitehurst

The Book of Witchery by Ellen Dugan

Coloring Book of Shadows Planners by Amy Cesari

The Witch’s Almanac by Weiser Books

Llewellyn’s Witches Companion and Datebooks

Plus the online sources listed above! Where do you get your daily magical advice?

Witchy Weather Report: The Weekend’s Witch Everyday, as you're getting ready to leave for work or hit the town with your friends or look for that perfect new job, you take stock of the general vibe of the day so you know how to approach it.

#daily correspondences #daily magic #daily magick #magick #saturn #the sun #weekends #witch aesthetic #Witchcraft #witchcraft 101 #witchy weather report

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tialovestelevision · 7 years

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Once More, With Feeling

It’s time. I know you have been looking forward to this. I certainly have. It’s time for the musical episode. It’s time for “Once More, With Feeling.”

I’m not going to do too much introduction here. But I will bring up something important: Netflix does not have the full version of this episode. Parts of songs and incidental scenes are cut from the Netflix version, which does a ton of damage to the episode’s flow. Hulu is the right streaming service to watch this one on.

Let’s go!

1. Previously On, then opening credits. New opening song for this one, and pictures of the cast in front of the moon. No Tara.

2. This is also the only episode in the series with a title card, so it’s the only one that someone watching television in a linear, over-the-air format would see the title of.

3. Overture! Alarm going off for Buffy. Hinton Battle! People going about their days! Tara finds the flower Willow used for her spell and is happy because nice smelly flower. Buffy doesn’t want to get out of bed. She’s staring at her alarm clock. Xander and Anya have a wedding magazine! Giles takes a book away from Dawn. Willow and Tara doing research. Buffy drawing a picture. Giles pulls her into the back room to train.

4. I’m going to watch songs all the way through before writing about them. So no play-by-play for them, but lots of impressions!

5. “Going Through the Motions.” First off, Sarah’s got a lovely singing voice. I want to know more about the demon with the horns who delivers the “She’s not even half the girl she… ow…” line; he’s got a great design and I bet he’s up to some sort of truly sinister evil when he’s roped into Buffy’s chorus line and gets killed. Also, we could have skipped like half the runtime of “Life Serial” given that we were going to get this song; it expresses what the season is about far better than bludgeoning us with Buffy’s exhaustion over the course of an hour ever could.

6. Buffy comes into the Magic Box. People ask her about her day and Dawn. Buffy asks if anything is going on. “So, did anybody… um, last night… did anybody… um… burst into song?” Xander: “Merciful Zeus.” I think that’s my favorite Xander line ever. Willow: “We thought it was just us!” Tara: “It was bizarre. We were talking, and…” Buffy: “Like you were in a musical.” Everyone’s talking over each other. Xander: “It was very disturbing.” Giles: “What did you sing about?” Buffy: “I don’t remember. But it seemed perfectly normal.” Xander: “But disturbing, and not the natural order of things.” They speculate on how to speculate.

7. “I’ve Got a Theory/Bunnies/If We’re Together.” Three songs sort of run into each other here, and they’re all individually interesting. For those keeping score at home, we are at a total of two solo lines sung by Willow so far for the episode, though she sings (quietly) in chorus with Tara and/or Anya a lot in this one. Anyway… the first bit, “I’ve Got a Theory,” is a wonderful commentary on the show itself. The fact that every single one of the hypotheses (not theories!) posited by the cast, including Xander’s immediately-retracted witches idea (remember Amy’s mother?) and Anya’s idea about bunnies, is absolutely believable within the show’s context is telling. That the one that fits the way most TV at the time worked best (“Some kid is dreamin’/and we’re all stuck inside his wacky Broadway nightmare”) is the least credible might say more. “Bunnies” is, simply, rockin’, an utterly delightful bit of the wondrous weirdness that is Anya’s mind. And “If We’re Together” is heartbreaking, knowing what we know about Buffy and about what’s happening in the minds and lives of the other members of the cast. Buffy needs them right now, and Willow’s sanity is imploding in a dramatic fashion, Xander’s preoccupied with one of life’s more pleasant mundanities, and Giles is convinced that what Buffy needs is to stand on her own at a time when asking her to do so is akin to asking her to move the ocean. “What can’t we face if we’re together,” she asks, but the question is less relevant than it should be. They’re not together.

8. Xander is disturbed, but Willow thought it was neat. Buffy asks what’s causing it; Giles says he thought she said it doesn’t matter, and Buffy says, “I’m not exactly quaking in my stylish yet affordable boots yet, but something unnatural is going on here, and that usually doesn’t lead to hugs and puppies.” Anya asks if it’s just them. Buffy opens the door.

9. “The Mustard.” I think that might have been my favorite scene in the series.

10. “Not just us.”

11. Dawn comes into the Magic Box. She says they’ll never believe what happened at school today. Buffy, totally even tone: “Everybody started singing and dancing?” Dawn: “I gave birth to a pterodactyl.” Anya: “Oh my god. Did it sing?” Willow and Tara are whispering to each other. They need to leave to get a book. This is an excuse to go home. Dawn steals a necklace off the counter.

12. I have to comment on Tara’s dress, because it’s one of the prettiest pieces of clothing I’ve ever seen. I mean… wow, it’s lovely. They’re walking through a park. People are checking Tara out. Tara: “They were really looking at me?” Willow: “And you can’t imagine what they see in you.” Tara: “I know exactly what they see in me. You.”

13. “Under your Spell.” Okay, wow, a lot to say here. How about I start with the song as a piece of music? It’s really good. Amber Benson might have the best singing voice in the regular cast (it’s her or Anthony Stewart Head), and the arrangement is really good. This works as a piece of pop music, outside the context of the show.

INSIDE the context of the show is where it gets complicated, because there’s two songs here, both of which are being sung simultaneously. There’s the song in the moment, the expression of Tara’s feelings about Willow and about her life, and ye gods if this episode was in a less utterly miserably devastating season that would be the end of it and I’d be happy because it’s beautiful and it’s loving and it’s sexy on a level that can set the soul on fire. What it isn’t is subtle, and I love it for that. This show has had a bad habit of desexualizing the relationship between Willow and Tara, yet here they get what might be the most passionate scene about attraction and love the series has ever offered.

But then you put it into the context of the season so far, and when you do that it starts to hurt before the singing even stars. “I know exactly what they see in me. You,” Tara says to the woman who responded to them having a fight - a bad one, but still within the norms of the arguments people in relationships have - by erasing her memory of both the fight and its cause. “I’m under your spell” is the core line of the song. “You make me believe,” she sings to the one who made her believe their relationship is going swimmingly when in fact it is not. The song takes on a sinister feel within the context of the season as a whole, and its first lines, talking about Tara’s backstory and the places she was in before meeting Willow just make that all the more painful.

14. Xander thinks Tara and Willow are having sex, which means Xander has the reasoning ability God gave a goldfish. He tries not to tell Dawn what he thinks. Dawn knows what he thinks. Dawn thinks it’s romantic; Xander and Buffy think it’s not. Dawn: “Come on. Songs, dancing around. What could be wrong with that?”

15. People catching on fire is what’s wrong with that. Hinton Battle is what’s right with that!

16. Xander and Anya’s apartment. I love the geometry of their building. They’re in bed. Xander offers Anya waffle. Anya asks if he’ll make her waffles when they’re married; Xander makes a tired marriage law joke.

17. “I’ll Never Tell.” This has the best opening lines of any song yet. “This is the man that I plan to entangle isn’t he fine/My claim to fame was to maim and to mangle VENGEANCE WAS MINE!” Also, the newspaper headline. “Mayhem caused! Monsters certainly not to blame.” Less cool: The callback to “Pangs,” which was one of the episodes I’ve liked the least. This song brings up their nerves about their upcoming marriage, but the things they’re nervous about largely seem pretty mundane to me. Standard differences between people stuff. If they wanted to get into the reasons for the cold feet Xander displayed in “All the Way” in a way I’d buy, they really should have brought up his issues with his parents. That probably would have blown up the comedy in this song - and this song was very, very funny. I love the dance choreography, too - the way they move around the room. This song was great.

18. Xander and Anya are walking down the street talking to Giles. They do not like their song as much as I did. They don’t bring up “Pangs” being problematic, though. Anya did mention the missing fourth wall. “The Parking Ticket,” sung by series writer Marti Noxon, happens while they’re walking. Giles knows about the guy who burnt up. More than one person has burned up. Giles: “I was able to see the body while the police were taking witness arias.” I love Giles. Buffy is looking for leads, but she’s not into it. Xander says they need to be there for her. Giles puts a “but” at the end of a line that needs not to have a “but.”

19. Spike: “The sun sets and she appears. Come to serenade me?” They talk a bit about the singing. Spike saw a six hundred pound chirago demon singing. He hasn’t sung yet. Buffy turns down a drink. Spike doesn’t want to talk about singing. She doesn’t want to have sex with Spike. He doesn’t know a thing. He’s trying to get rid of her. Urgently. Does he feel a song coming on?

20. “Rest in Peace.” Yes. Yes he does. Buffy’s eyeroll when he starts singing is basically my whole world right now. The song’s good… catchy tune, James Marsters belts it out like a boss. It’s actually a badass bit of really creepy unrequited love rock ballad. The bit in the show where he leaps on a casket while singing is well-done, though I question why, apart from providing a stage for him to sing on (which is reason enough, in this episode), there’s a funeral happening in Sunnydale at night. This song pretty much encapsulates the Buffy/Spike story so far, and is thus creepy as hell. If someone were to sing something like this about me, I’d be really impressed all the way to the courthouse to request a restraining order right the fuck now.

21. “So, you’re not staying, then?” Heh.

22. Dawn is hiding things. Tara comes in and tells her that they have a lead on what’s going on… a demon that can be summoned who’s a lord of the dance. Dawn asks if they know who summoned it. Tara is all lovestruck. Dawn talks about the fight Willow erased from Tara’s memory. Tara doesn’t remember it, and is suddenly off-put. She’s looking at the flower in a bit of terror. She’s going to the Magic Box. Dawn says she’ll be okay.

23. “Dawn’s Lament.” She steals things. Nobody notices. Then she gets kidnapped. By puppet-looking dudes.

24. “Dawn’s Ballet.” Dawn comes to at the Bronze. On the pool table. Nobody’s there. The puppet dudes are there. They ballet-fight-chase.

25. “What You Feel.” So, Hinton Battle as the demon Sweet just explained the entire plot of the episode to us. He gets summoned, his presence makes people sing about things they’re hiding (“All those hearts lie open that must sting”) and sets people on fire by concentrating his power on them (“Plus some customers just die combusting.”) He believes Dawn summoned him, so when he leaves Earth, he’ll take her with him and she’ll be his queen. He also wants to kill the Slayer. I wonder if Sweet’s killed Slayers before? He’s… actually kind of ridiculously powerful. The song itself is wonderful. Did I mention that Hinton Battle has won three Tony awards? That’s important.

26. Buffy and Giles in the training room. Buffy is worried they’ll get a training montage from an 80s movie; Giles says that if they hear any inspirational power chords they’ll lie down until they go away. Buffy is pretty spry for a corpse. Giles asks if she’s spoken to Dawn about the incident on Halloween; she says she thought Giles took care of it, and says she’s ready. He goes to the knife and throwing axe and shuriken rack.

27. “Standing.” This song is beautifully painful. I’m going to start with something you’re likely expecting: Giles is wrong. Buffy, at the moment, needs support, needs duties taken off her shoulders, needs a goddamn therapist; she does not need to be allowed to sink or swim on her own.

But Giles thinks she needs that. He honestly believes, and I can see how he might given the information he has, that Buffy is best off without him at the moment - that she’s leaning on him in a way she’ll never stop, and she’s strong enough now to stand on her own. That the only way for her to continue to heal is for him to leave. He doesn’t want to, and it hurts him on a soul-deep level that he believes he has to go. Leaving will wound him. This song is painful because I do love Giles, and because I read it as being about stupid, pointless self-sacrifice.

Meanwhile, downstairs in the main floor of the shop, Tara walks past crying.

28. Tara has found the flower in a book. Lethe’s bramble, which is used for spells of forgetting and mind control.

29. “Under Your Spell/Standing (Reprise).” Giles continues to express the same sentiment he had in the last song. Tara’s part in this one is more interesting… the stream of consciousness of someone realizing a partner has crossed an unfixable line, but one still loves them. “I can’t adjust to this disgust we’re done and I just wish I could stay.” Meanwhile, Buffy and Willow are conversing at the front of the store while Giles and Tara sing their heartbreak. Buffy and Willow don’t know. They think life goes on.

30. Spike found a puppet guy. Willow is happy to see Tara but Tara doesn’t speak to her and Willow gets all wounded-face. Spike tells the puppet guy to sing. Music starts, then the puppet just explains what’s going on. Then he runs away. Spike: “Strong. Some day he’ll be a real boy.” Buffy: “So, Dawn’s in trouble. Must be Tuesday.” Tara apologizes; Buffy immediately dismisses the idea of it being Tara’s fault. Xander wants to do a full-on cavalry charge; Giles turns that plan down and says Buffy has to go alone. Giles says Buffy is going alone. Spike: “Don’t be a stupid git. There is no…” Giles: “If I want your opinion, Spike, I’ll… I’ll never want your opinion.” Willow suggests a confusion spell; Tara vetoes that. Spike: “Forget it, Slayer. I got your back.” Buffy: “I thought you wanted me to stay away from you. Isn’t that what you sang?” Xander and Anya make fun of Spike. Spike: “Fine. I hope you dance till you burn. You and the little bit.” That’s very Spike - obsessed, angry, violent, worshipping. Buffy is surprised they’re not coming. She asks Giles what he expects her to do; he says “Your best.”

31. “Walk Through the Fire.” A lot to talk about in the big group number too. First off… apparently, this was both the most expensive and most difficult to film scene in the series. I can see why - it’s a huge setpiece, involving a fair chunk of the Sunnydale sets the show has used through its run and a lot of coordination. Plus the fire engines at the end.

Second, “So one by one, they come to me/The distant redness as their guide/But what they’ll find ain’t what they had in mind/It’s what they have inside.” Sweet again lays out the core of his threat - his power to incinerate isn’t nearly the danger that his power to lay secrets bare is.

Buffy is done. She was done in “The Gift,” and everything that’s happened since then has made her more aware just how done she is. Honestly, her duty should have been done at “Prophecy Girl,” when the Slayer line passed from her to Kendra. In “The Gift,” though, she ended her story on her own terms, only to have Willow shred that ending and insist on adding a few new chapters. If Buffy can’t have the ending on her terms, going to confront a being far more powerful than she is while knowing she’s given up (remember “Fool for Love?”) will at least let her have it be over again. Giles, meanwhile, rethinks his decision on sending her alone, and Willow gets a third solo line.

32. “Showtime.” Buffy is at the Bronze, and finds Sweet and Dawn there. Buffy snarks with Sweet a bit, and Dawn swears she didn’t summon him. Buffy offers to go to Hell with Sweet instead of Dawn. Sweet: “What if I kill you?” Buffy: “Trust me. Won’t help.” Sweet: “That’s gloomy.” Buffy: “That’s life.” He asks if life’s a miraculous thing. Buffy: “I think you already know the answer.”

33. “Something to Sing About.” There’s a lot I could say about this song - how tightly-written the lyrics are, the disconcerting amelodism in the bits where Buffy lists off things to live for - but I want to focus on a few moments. The first is the very beginning, the facial acting Sarah Michelle Gellar does while singing the first few lines. Buffy, here, is dragging herself into character - snark and passion, focused on an enemy. That doesn’t last. Second, toward the end of the song, when she’s told them that she was in Heaven (and look at Willow’s face when she does), and she begs Sweet, “Please, give me something (to sing about),” and Sweet gets this almost regretful look in his eyes as he shakes his head. He’s evil, so he wouldn’t, and he’s got nothing, so he can’t, but even he seems moved here. And delighted… there’s also joy there. He’s watched one of the most powerful beings on the planet break for his amusement. Third, Spike’s insight. We see him have really important insights before, things one only understands if one isn’t a person, and this might be more important than his understanding of why opening Glory’s portal has to use blood. He knows what it is to die, to cease to live. He and Buffy are the only people in the room that’s true of, though Tara has a similar experience. Fourth, “The hardest thing in this world is living in it.” Dawn offers Buffy the same words here that Buffy offered Dawn before leaping to her death in “The Gift,” and it resonates very well. Fourth, just as the last few notes play, Tara, holding Willow’s shoulder and comforting her. “We’re done,” she sang in the Reprise, but she still loves Willow, and love moves us to empathy and grace even when a relationship can’t be salvaged. This episode needs no action climax; it has this song.

34. Sweet: “Now, that was a show stopper. Not quite the that I was looking for…” Then Willow, who is the only person here who might be on Sweet’s level, threatens him. Sweet smells power. “I guess the little missus and I should be on our way.” Giles: “That’s never going to happen.” Sweet: “I don’t make the rules. She summoned me.” Dawn again insists she didn’t. He points out that what she’s wearing is his talisman. She says she found it on the floor… that’s a lie. But she didn’t, in fact, summon him. Giles says that if it was in the shop, it was one of them… it turns out it was Xander. He thought there would be dances and songs, and wanted to make sure they’d get a happy ending. Sweet is annoyed. Xander asks if he has to be Sweet’s queen. Sweet: “It’s tempting… but I think we’ll waive that clause just this once. Big smiles, everyone. You beat the bad guy.”

35. “What You Feel (Reprise).” “All those secrets you’ve been concealing’/Say you’re happy now, once more with feeling/Now I gotta run/See you all/In HELLLLLL!” Also, his expression when he sings “And there’s not a one who can say this ended well.” This was a pyrrhic victory for everyone involved, which I didn’t think was possible.

36. “Where Do We Go From Here?” Big group sing about being lost. “The battle’s done and we kinda won so we sound our victory cheer/Where do we go from here?” Awkwardness at the start of the song. “Understand we go hand in hand but we walk alone in fear.” That moment might have my favorite choreography in the episode. I love Spike breaking out of the song. “Bugger this.” “The curtains close on a kiss God knows we can tell the end is near.” Buffy meets Spike outside. “The day you suss out what you do want, there’ll probably be a parade. Seventy-six bloody trombones.” From watching Sound! Euphonium, that would be a LOT of trombones. That would be nearly a concert band and a half worth of just trombones. They sing the opening bars of their songs - “Walk through the Fire” from Buffy and “Rest in Peace” from Spike - and then they kiss. Episode end. Different ending credit song. Plus a big The End card in the style of classic (as in, 1940s-1950s) musical films. The Mutant Enemy sings “Grr, Argh!”

Overall: This is the best episode so far this season. This is the best episode since “Hush.” It belongs with “Hush,” “Amends,” and the best parts of the Faith arc in the list of best episodes of the series. This is how you do an episode about depression and sadness and being overwhelmed and miserable and make it not merely watchable but brilliant.

There are reasons that most of the great theater of the twentieth century, and much of the best cinema of its first half, comes in the form of musicals. You put an idea to song and the idea becomes easier to think about while still being entertained. Stephen Sondheim has done truly great musicals about the mundanity and loneliness of modern life (“Company”) and the assassinations of various Presidents of the United States (“Assassins,”) and they’re actively fun to watch while still making poignant emotional points. That’s the power of a well-composed musical.

It does, however, kind of make me wish I’d skipped much of the last three or four episodes. It tells me their stories in song form, which is a far more enjoyable way of seeing them than actually sitting through them. “Show, don’t tell,” the old adage goes, but if showing takes three hours of television, most of which I’m going to be miserable for because people I like are being tormented in gruesome emotional detail while telling involves a peppy song and dance number, I’m quite frankly fine with telling.

Even in its full version, which takes up nearly a full hour (they cut back drastically on the number of commercials that aired during this episode’s first run), “Once More With Feeling” is short for a musical. The cartoon version of “The Lion King” runs for 89 minutes, and the stage performance goes for 150 minutes including a single brief intermission. But it runs as long as it needs to, and tells its story well.

Sweet is one of the show’s best villains, and, apart from possibly the First Evil from “Amends,” probably the best one-episode monster the show’s given us. Among the seasonal villains, I’d probably place the Mayor and Glory above him.

This episode is a reminder, in the midst of a truly dismal time, how great a show Buffy the Vampire Slayer can be.

#buffy the vampire slayer #once more with feeling #buffy season 6 #season 6 #hinton battle #best episodes

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