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#if I wrote it I might run a Brain Dead ship but we all know I also love Dead on Main
xysidhequeen · 1 year
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So sorta a prompt/sorta a brain worm that got stuck in my head.
What if.... When Jason died originally he came back as a ghost and he and Danny met. Jason helped him fight ghosts and taught him some tricks of the trade. He offhandedly told Danny that if he ever needed help to go to Gotham/Blüdhaven (depends if you want to spin Jason still feeling kind towards Bruce or him being more in Dick's corner). Jason vanishes when he's resurrected and Danny doesn't hear from him for years.
Well something happens. (Either everyone he loves dies, and he runs to the GZ or away to prevent himself from turning into Dark Danny, or his parents find out his secret and react Badly. Or maybe they react well but the GIW takes them out)
Danny runs to the only place he thinks can offer sanctuary, Gotham/Blüdhaven. Running off the words of a friend he hasn't seen in a long time.
He arrives and is probably exhausted, stumbling around when he feels a familiar energy. He follows it, only to nearly collapse at Jason's feet as Red Hood. (This is probably post Outlaws when Jason has a more peacefulish relationship with the Bats) and looks up.
"Jason?"
"Danny?!"
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backjustforberena · 4 months
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20 questions for fic writers
Thank you to @joycieillustrations for tagging me. And whomever reads this, if you want to consider this me tagging you then go for it! But here we go, here are my answers. Dear Lordy, I'd forgotten about some of these fics until I had to tot up the word count.
1. How many works do you have on Ao3?
I have 25. Some completed, some... not so much.
2. What's your total Ao3 word count?
Total word count is: 174,231 words.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
I'm only actively writing "House of the Dragon". And actively is a strong word. Sometimes I look fondly on my "Holby City" (specifically the ship 'Berena') unfinished fics and the notes I still have and half-finished chapters, but I leave them be for now. Unless someone decides to bug me (by which I mean, offer a hand and lend an ear).
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
- Me Before You AU - a Berena retelling of the book/film. - Run And Hit - a Berena AU. - Home Now - a Berena AU. - Losing Her Would Be Infinitely More Terrifying Than Loving Her - a Berena AU. - A Fresh Page - a Berena AU.
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Generally, I don't, unless it's been a mean comment or they've asked me something specifically. Otherwise, I know I won't reply to all and so I get anxious about responding to any! And I'm British - you try giving a British person a compliment, you see how they find it!
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
From my completed works? Shoot. I'm not sure if I'm the best judge of that. Most of them do include angst. But if they're angsty multi-chapters, then they're going to end on a happier note. And if they're an angsty one-shot, then the angst isn't just contained to the ending, it starts from the first word!
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Looking at finished works... I have written some fluff.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
I have done on one of my fics. That was "Deep Waters". That was not fun at all, but equally, I had some really lovely comments on that fic as well. Moral of the story - don't write Daemon Targaryen in anything but a good light and certainly don't have Rhaenys act independently and with emotion. Woe betide you if you do! ;)
9. Do you write smut?
Nope.
10. Do you write crossovers?
I haven't yet.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not that I know of.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
No. I bounce ideas off of people and get input but I've never strictly "co-written" a fic. I'd welcome it though. It might get something finished!
14. What's your all-time favourite ship?
I enjoy many a ship but it's Corlys and Rhaenys that occupy my brain presently. I'm pretty sure though, if you pricked my interest again, that Berena would not be far away. They were a very, very good ship.
15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
How long do you have? In more seriousness, any and all of my Holby ones. But the most recent of those was "My Tears Richocet", which I did plan out quite a bit, but got derailed by the end of Holby City and the resolution of the plotline that I was re-writing. But I still love the idea; Bernie Wolfe was rescued three months after being declared dead, and returning to Holby, confronting everything she left behind and trying to not love the woman who rejected her and yet mourned for her. But the one most easily finished is probably another Holby fic; "Someone You Love" as it was a remix between two episodes, so it has a set ending, I know where the plot is going, it's outlined somewhere on my laptop and would only be a chapter more. Two at the most.
16. What are your writing strengths?
I have writing strengths?
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Finishing things! Describing things! Overthinking things!
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I have used some High Valyrian. Very, very minimal High Valryian. I also have a very clever, wonderful friend, to whom I can go to for advice on High Valyrian. But that's it. No other languages. It's not something I seek out.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Doctor Who. Wayy back when, on fanfiction.net.
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
Oh, gosh! I really love some of the "House of the Dragon" stuff I've written, simply because I've adored looking at the political aspect of it all and just generally trying to think out the consequences of various changes. Others, from "Holby", I love but they are rarely finished so I will have to say "losing her would be infinitely more terrifying than loving her" - only because it's complete (woo hoo) but also because it was quite a turning point for me. I'd never written something so action-packed, that needed to have a specific tone and pace. I was rather chuffed I could pull it off and it was well received.
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fkyumerica · 2 months
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hahahha
youtube
Project Silence (2023) Official Trailer with English Subtitles | Korean Movie
silence for them
after fucking everyones brain up
no fucking way woodies
i got your award
800 dogs together will just kill people
and inject them with speed and set them on fire
and throw sharpened steel and blow up the brooklyn bridge again
and shoot your dad
and his 3 wives
and your child died
fight me now
and meter read her
17 gas stations brian would go to
and crack drop all of them
every other store had another wife
and fucked his great grandson zachy every other time
to shit
and pull his pants up
brian shit
to show he was gay
brian is gay
wont love agian doesnt give a shit
gives up his wives after
zachy takes them
and shoots them now
but zachy would mate with them before
i told him to shoot them
youtube
The Sadness (2021) Red Band Trailer | Zombie Horror Movie
holy shit
cut through tendon, she aint hurting me, cut through esophagus completly
knife scene
how to do it
with speed esaphogas, thought he was fucking me at the time
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uN-uCYFQCvo whole town of 1,400 of these giant men
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Mr. Incredible becoming uncanny "You wake up and see"
i would scream, and these people would run up then run away
it meant rape her
about me
and now the screams of those men in cars police sirens
fucking girls
to be 18ft tall after
then in the olympics to kill you
and stadiums to kill you
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BRGTVvOfzjs and gunner guys in their houses to kill you
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Best Death Scene Ever
getting one girl to do it was asking her on a date
and will follow you to steal yours until she is dead
fuck she knows it
i had to film it
with chuck
laughing my ass off
they would run them like steer to use them for meat too
first sex
then that eat them
and live
no society
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T973BPI4ZDY they would look like this, one who would say it
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The Sadness (2021) Red Band Trailer | Zombie Horror Movie
sex then no society
and eating them, black teeth
meet them with that, and they will stand there adn talk to you
women sit on the ground, but will go up to you really fast to give you oral
that guy would say, wont talk
about what she just did
each area needed to do it
in his family
find them young and do it
hitler would
if motorcycles and scooters only last a few years
it might be smaller to bigger
to live
they will show up as anyone again
"got that kid" andput rocks in their face
to look like that person
i know, i know you know me too
they read what i wrote and say it after
guys say i know
the men in womens clothing say i know you know me too
the men in dresses say i know you know me too
and turn around
the old man with black teeth
and send the men in womens clothing at you
to go down and bite your genitals
on both men and women
with claw hands on it too
to grab it
for you to stay
one night in bandcock
and the older man brings out a oyster
opens it
and shows you pearls
got them out of older women, no men
tell me the tale
it was abortions of raped xenomorph
oysters
now shock them again
say no it wasnt
they blow it off and leave, wont listen
thsoe are the men who do it, the oral
yyounger
older are able to control them and take advantage of them
did it young wont do it again
then run at you to claw grab at your throat
if she did it young she was raped young
i would strangle people
and look like me
men talk to them all day
from different areas
it was what they were talking about how they would talk
and i get to go there now
and they leave on boats
wh osays it
really
black teeth
cant tell?
oyster
we rape you more
stupid to her
they would worship me
war ship, get it
now anyways or its different
i can be him
and send them at you
someone stole my cake decorating kit
fatima did and hobo bag gave it to anne marie
where
i said it
what drugs to se
x
are you only of
scottish, i cant talk i just go to fuck
or wht neighbor find them and kill them
or they war ship at you
you know scottish by now
what those people are
they are called scottish
biggest thing there
them
in the stands
all of them
for court
the judges chair isnt a stand
he is taking one at them
officers cant look it
where do they go to attack the officers
straight at them to claw choke them
Home Decor
Awesome Cake Decorating Ideas
Facebook
these cakes are beautiful
then i heard i cant get any after
so why do i send it to you
and after the theft, lets give her big ears now
can we do it
no
she said yea
fatima should be shot
fake mask girls
matildas line with the full house girls
her line means descendants
cant understand
you are huffing something
illegally
i can kill you for my own safety as an officer
and other officers
your group is the only thing that surrounds you
the rest are assassins
who can legally kill you
and your family
they will be
and what cakes wont you see either
or be allowed to
you wont see this beauty in your life
and i dont need you to build me a house
rip up your own face you fucking nuts
i wont give you anything
anddd fuck yourself up
for doing it
crrack heads will
dont like you
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the-firebird69 · 3 months
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Elton John - Levon
youtube
And Elton John and there are two of them one of them is Tommy Allen the other is Mac Daddy but the one who wrote the song is the first one no it's Mac Daddy and yeah he's the first Elton John and his son copied all the songs and his act stole his act and my daddy is still there. Old enough oddly enough it is a heads up to the max and it tells them about it also the songs about levon and he is the father of someone he calls Jesus and he is next door and he is blowing hot air balloons for his people and he's next door to Ken after repair shop and he hands them the balloons and just sold them they're selling them and they're going down and making tunnels and they know about the macs. This is a big rat just like the one against Justin and they're telling on him they telling on Trump
It is true they are seeing this they are saying it and he's singing it and he's also saying later on it's Ken saying that I'm Jesus in both cases the family business thrives
Zues
I know what family business he's talking about a spy business and that's what the accuses of all the time and he is ratting and it's because we're saying to just leave it on unfortunately Trump is actually doing that and it seems that he may have sold the companies to the max who might be using his people as slaves to keep the economy going so they have stuff for their ships and they are tormenting the s*** out of us not leaving us alone for a second and having people harass us and we don't know what they're freaking problem is so I'm saying this the guys are going to go ahead and leave and that's Trump and son and they're saying it we're getting out of here and they're going to go west and they're going to try and invade the Midwest and my son-in-law says I don't think they're going to try that that much I could be wrong and also they get something that's not bad but out there they're going to start testing and see if they can get anything and see if they get what they want and have them try and send equipment and stuff and if not if they try and see what it is even if they find out they can say they're going to do that but before they're sending factory goods to them but still they want the company's back and so on and I understand what you're saying so it's going like that and I think you're right with a second set it says it in the song and God is dead and they're talking about Trump and they want to run it on you and all that stuff I really didn't want to kidnap you from there cuz it's near the stupid canal stuff like that I can hear but really it's a long-term plan and it's in writing and people are finding it and you're just a really good kid I have never seen anybody do this to them and what you said is my family is gone my race is gone almost I don't see many of them I can't tell who aren't Carmen is and he said to me you look funny like a Mac and I saw him looking around all the time and he's trying for a high sign and used to talk to George quite a bit and his dad and his mom any figured it out I'm kind of alone so I'm here and I'm his only friend almost and he says keep up the high hopes Ken and he talks like that I feel better then I feel really bad because that's how we talk but he said we're not gone completely we're entombed and these people who seem like our enemies are probably going to try and help get them out once they figure it out and the code is started and he said that up to the code is started and we really need to help and he needs to help a little he says because I don't know it but you guys really need to help and teach them how to see it so we're going to do that and verify they said they're having a hard time in the tunnels and to verify who the hell they're fighting you're still fighting nights in White satin I said you run over a whole crap a lot of them and then you check and then you make it so they can't use them and you take the robotic brains and you try and use it against them and they're saying that's nice but it will prove it and I'll give you a command of it and that's the way I say things too
Ken
Olympus
0 notes
whatsliferightnow · 2 years
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Contemplation (Rewrite and addition!)
Hi so I wrote a small fic called Contemplation like 8 months ago and wanted to add to it but never did. Well, now I’m back with a slight re-write of it because I’m crazy and with quite a bit of an addition! I like this one a bit better and I’m liking where it could potentially be going if I decide to continue it. Please be warned it deals heavily with suicide contemplation.
Summary: A quiet night at the Gotham Harbor takes a unexpected turn
Warnings: Suicide contemplation, murder, lots of swearing oops
Word count: 2.9k
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It smells like dead fish. But I don’t mind it. It’s a small price to pay for the calm atmosphere I’m looking for when I come here. I welcome the sound of the waves hitting the concrete wall below me, the muffled noise of the city behind me. I close my eyes and breathe in the salty, fishy air that I’ve already grown used to. With my legs dangling over the side of the wall, I fall back onto the filthy asphalt ground. I really don’t have the energy to care anymore about how disgusting that should be. When I open my eyes, I’m hoping to see millions of stars in the vast black sky above me, but there’s almost nothing. The moon is shining over the water, I can see a planet glistening next to it, Venus, Jupiter, I have no idea. A few stars dimly shine, but the lights of the city drown them out, and I think about how much I miss home. How I would go out into the yard at night with the front porch lights off and look up, searching for the few constellations I know in a sea of glittering stars above. But now I can’t even find the Big Dipper.
My mind goes back to the reason I came here tonight. I’ve come here before because I love the water. I love the peace the crashing of the waves breaking the quiet night air brings me. I usually come here to try to make myself feel better, but that’s not the case tonight. I don’t want to feel better anymore. I’ve given up trying to do that. It’s taken far too much energy, for far too long and it’s gotten me absolutely nowhere. At this point, I think I’m ready to give up completely.
I stare directly above me, eyes not really focusing on the stars anymore, just staring at nothing instead. I can feel that familiar bubble of emotion growing in my chest, going up my throat, and threatening to make its way out of my mouth in a sob. I try as best I can to hold it back but I can’t stop the tears from welling up in my eyes. I blink hard to release them and let them fall down the sides of my face. Thinking about the truth always brings me to this state of emotion that I hate, that I always try my hardest to avoid.
The truth is, I want to die. I want to die more than anything. I want to no longer exist on this god forsaken planet. I don’t want to deal with the problems I have thrown at me everyday. I want to run away from them but where could I go other than 6 feet under? How would I make myself disappear? I can’t. Or at least I don’t know how. The only possibility I see of escape is by ending the problem for good.
So if I want to end my life so badly, then why the fuck can’t I make myself do it? There’s been so many times where I’ve been staring at the pills in my bathroom, holding the knife from my kitchen, driving and fantasizing about drifting into oncoming traffic, each time never following through with it. And now, sitting on a ledge, ready to throw myself under the waves to never come back up. The opportunity is literally right in front of me. All I have to do is let myself fall forward. But I still can’t make myself do it.
Why? Why is it so hard? I want it, but maybe I don’t want it enough to make it happen. It’s like I’m too weak to do it. I feel like I’m a failure for not being able to do it.
The tiny part of my brain that’s hidden away in the back that is somehow still sane tries to convince me that those aren’t the reasons for me not killing myself. It’s trying to tell me that this is not the answer, that I can’t give up, because it will get better. That’s not enough though. I’ve always had a hard time believing that. The one thing that that stubborn little piece of my brain has convinced me of is this- I have a family that loves me. And I’m incredibly lucky and thankful for that, and I really don’t want to take that for granted. I know that if I were to end my life, I’d be essentially killing my parents. They are the one thing that keeps me here. Even though I’ve had issues with them, I love them, and they love me. And I can’t do that to them. No matter how much I want my pain to end, I don’t want to make it their pain. I feel disgustingly full of guilt just thinking about it. I know that even after death, my body would be literally rotting away with guilt in my grave.
Fuck… this is why I can’t kill myself. But I often desperately wish some horrible accident would be the death of me. Or maybe someone would just kill me, as long as they did it quickly. That’d be so much easier than having to kill myself.
Finally starting to calm down a little bit, something off in the distance to my right brings me back to reality. My peaceful, quiet bubble is no longer that when I hear the commotion. With annoyance prickling my skin, I turn my head to look. What I see has me slightly confused at first, but I’m intrigued enough to watch what’s playing out in front of me. From my skewed horizontal point of view, I see two silhouettes. It’s hard to tell, but I’m pretty sure one of them has a knife. He’s advancing on the other one, slowly walking toward the edge of the dock. The other one is stumbling backward, pleading with the attacker, trying to put distance between the two of them. But his back reaches the railing at the edge, where the concrete drops to meet the water below and he has nowhere else to go. The man with the knife closes in on him, he’s taller but he’s hunching down to the other one’s level. He reaches out in front of him, grabbing the other by the neck in one hand and without hesitation, sinking his knife into his victim’s torso with the other.
I stay silent. I’m beyond shocked that what I just saw had actually happened right in front of me. And I can’t believe neither of them saw me- I’m only a short distance away. Jesus, what the hell do I do now? I can’t just get up and sneak off, the killer will see me. Although... that thought does bring a horrible idea into my head. That could be just the thing I need- for him to see me. He’ll kill me too for having just witnessed him murder someone. Totally not sure if that’ll be the best way to go, but we really can’t control every little detail of our demise, now can we?
What feels like forever has gone by and he’s still standing there, holding this guy up by his neck. I can hear choking noises coming from the victim, but why? He was stabbed, he didn’t have his throat cut or anything like that. Is the killer also strangling him with the hold around his neck? How has the guy not bled out by now? I’m laying here pondering questions about a murder I’m witnessing as if I’m watching it happen on TV, but also wondering how much longer I have to sit here until he either leaves without seeing me, or until he sees me and comes over here to kill me too.
Finally, something happens. He removes his knife from the guy’s stomach and he simply pushes him over the railing. He must be dead now. His limp body falls the few feet down and splashes in the water below. The killer steps up to the railing and looks down for a moment, before he takes in his surroundings. He looks out over the water, then scans the docks. Ah, here’s the moment I knew would happen; he looks over in my direction. I still can’t see his face, but I know he’s looking right at me. This is it then, I’m going to die. I’m going to die at the shipping docks, thrown into the water like his other victim, and no one will know what happened. I think I’m afraid, but I don’t want to admit it to myself that I am. I want to be stronger than that. But I can’t help but feel a tinge of fear from the unknown that’s about to happen. Knowing that these are my last few moments alive and that I might possibly have a brutal, painful death.
It’s ironic and I’d totally laugh if a murderer wasn’t staring at me right now. I can’t believe not even ten minutes ago, I sat here at the edge of the water, unable to let myself fall in and never come back up, but so desperately wishing I could do it. And now, there’s a murderer slowly coming toward me that’s going to take care of it for me. Of course, as briefly as it can in this moment, the thought of my parents flashes in my head, and how I still don’t want to leave them with a dead daughter… but it’s out of my control now. I fucked up and went and got myself in a situation I can’t get out of. Actually, I could probably try by simply getting up and running, but is that really worth the energy? Surely this guy would quickly catch me and kill me anyway. I guess I just hope he doesn’t make it too painful. Maybe he won’t if I don’t put up a fight.
I’m watching him saunter toward me, and I’m still awkwardly laying down on the pavement with my legs hanging over the ledge. That just won’t do while I’m getting murdered. Without taking my eyes off him, I sit up facing his direction and bring my legs back up over the edge to sit cross legged.
I can see more of him now that he’s closer and good fucking god, I immediately take back everything I thought before. Shit, I wish I hadn’t thought any of it and I fucking wish I hadn’t come here tonight. I recognize him. His face paint is unmistakable. His face has been plastered all over the newspapers and shown every night on the news. Holy shit, is this actually happening right now? This is the fucking Joker, I actually just saw him murder a guy and now I’m sitting here looking in the face of a terrorist? How? How is this even happening right now?
I watch him in disbelief, and now I will admit, definitely in fear, as he’s coming toward me. His long trench coat billows around his legs and I stop to wonder why the hell he wears it. It’s summer and although it’s the middle of the night, it’s still warm enough for me to only need a thin jacket. He must be sweating his ass off in that thing. Good to know I’m wondering about such trivial things at a time like this.
He’s reached me now, and all I can do is stare up at him. He can probably smell the fear coming off of me, and if not, he can definitely see it written on my face. He must be used to instilling this fear in his victims, it must come naturally to him to be able to recognize it in their faces.
I’m trying to swallow down the fear as I look up into his face, studying the poorly healed scars stretching from the corners of his mouth up to the middle of his cheeks on each side. He’s looking down at me, must be assessing me, trying to figure out how to kill his newest victim. A defenseless young woman who’s half his size, it won’t be hard for him.
How long have we been here staring at each other like this? Why hasn’t he attacked me yet? Is he waiting for me to try to run away, scream, or what? What do I do?
The only thing I can do in this moment is open my mouth, feeling as if I should say something, though I have no idea what. Before I have the chance, however, he does what I least expect him to; he crouches down right in front of me, leveling his piercing gaze with my own terrified one.
I look at his hands. He’s not holding his knife now. He’s just crouching there in front of me, no immediate threat to be seen, just looking at me with a blank expression. His dark eyes, covered in black makeup making them look even more unnerving, are slightly narrowed at me, looking as if he’s trying to figure me out. He’s clenching his jaw, moving it back and forth, but doing nothing else.
I’m too confused as to what the hell is going on, I just have to ask. “What are you doing?” I pause for a second deciding if what I’m about to say is going to be too stupid or not to ask him but whatever, I’m asking anyway, “are you going to kill me or not?”
Looks like he liked that question. He breathes out a small laugh and his scarred smile turns into a real one, wide and it actually looks genuine. “Do you want me to kill you?”
Mind games huh? He likes to play with his prey before killing it. What’s the right answer to this? To be honest, I don’t even know what I want at this point. Let’s just go with either option, “Uhm… yes and no.”
He laughs again, this time it’s more than just under his breath, “Yes or no question, doll, you don’t get to have both.”
Okay, I didn’t think this could get any weirder or more confusing, but I guess I’ll just keep being wrong tonight. “Uh… right… okay wait, what the hell is happening? Why are you asking me that? You’re the one with the knife, the one who just killed someone. I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s supposed to decide if I die or not.”
His smile not faltering, he says, “Yep, you’re right. I do get to decide if your life ends tonight. But before I even bother with that little decision, I wanna know what you’re doing down here anyway. It’s not safe for a little thing like you at the docks in the middle of the night. You never know who’s… creepin’ around.” He finishes that sentence with a grin and a raise of his eyebrows, obviously because he is in fact the monster that I should be afraid of.
“Oh you mean someone like you?” I’m surprisingly defiant and somehow manage to sound way more courageous than I am. But I’m not about to give in so easily and let him have the fun I can see he’s trying to have by messing with me right now. “Whatever. I’ve been here before at night, and never had a problem. Maybe you shouldn’t have been here. I was just minding my own business, enjoying the water, then you come in with the commotion, and disturb my peace and quiet.”
“Mmm, right…” he trails off, it looks like he’s thinking about something for a second but then it’s like I can see a flip switch in his head. Faster than I can even react, he reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of my neck. All I could do when he did was flinch and let out a pathetic little shriek. His thumb is on my throat, just under my jaw, applying just enough pressure to force me to look up at him. “Why are you here?” But he’s not asking now, he’s demanding to know. The smile’s gone and the look in his eyes lets me know I shouldn’t fuck around again.
I feel like I’m looking up at him like an animal about to be slaughtered. His thumb digging into my neck doesn’t quite hurt yet, but is definitely uncomfortable. “Agh…” I give him a little groan to show my discomfort before pausing, and reluctantly telling him, “I came here to kill myself but didn’t end up doing it, okay? Then you conveniently showed up and I figured you’d kill me for seeing you murder that guy. But now here we are… you’re not killing me.”
And then the grin’s back. As soon as I finish talking, I can feel him ease up on me, both his physical hold on my neck, and I can feel the tension subside. In one second, he seemed like he was ready to kill me, and now he’s back to this strange, playful attitude and the confusing mind games. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Who knows?” He says that last part in a kind of sing-song tone. He’s clearly having way too much fun with this. “Ya know, on second thought, I’m not gonna kill you. Not yet at least. Maybe your life isn’t worth anything, but I can think of a few jobs you could be useful for before you die, sweetheart.”
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dotthings · 3 years
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Let’s talk about why Dean dancing with a lamp is subtext, but it’s subtext that supports textual arcs. Dean dancing with a lamp is not random. Meta on why Dean dancing with a lamp is part of the build of a textual arc for Dean, thematically, which also connects to his relationship with Cas. This symbolic moment being tacitly about Destiel will only feel like reaching if you ignore context, ignore canon, ignore long arcing, ignore textual material surrounding it. This isn’t just me talking about a ship, this is an important arc for Dean himself emotionally and the way canon’s working, Cas has become the star player in this specific emotional Dean arc about yearning. 
Here are some canon quotes. I could just leave these here and not write another word of meta because the canon wrote it for me. But I’ve added some further commentary to spell out clearly what I’m getting at.
Dean in 8.14 “Trial and Error” by Andrew Dabb:
“You see a light at the end of this ugly-ass tunnel. I don't. But I tell you what I do know – it's that I'm gonna die with a gun in my hand. 'Cause that's what I have waiting for me – that's all I have waiting for me. I want you to get out. I want you to have a life – become a man of Letters, whatever. You, with a wife and kids and – and – and grandkids, living till you're fat and bald and chugging Viagra – that is my perfect ending, and it's the only one that I'm gonna get.”
Dean in 10.16 “Paint it Black” by Eugenie Ross-Lemming and Brad Buckner:
“You know, the life I live, the work I do…I pretty much just figured that that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around and jam the key in the ignition and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I’d go out the same way that I live – pedal to the metal, and that would be it....Now, um… recent events, uh… make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. And…I don’t know. I mean, you know, there’s – there’s things, there’s…people, feelings that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time.”
Sam and Dean in 11.04 “Baby” by Robbie Thompson:
SAM: Really? You don't . . . Ever want something more? DEAN: I'm sorry, have you met us? We're batting a whopping zero in domestic life, man. Goose eggs. SAM: You don't ever think about something? Not marriage or whatever. But . . . Something? You know, with a hunter? Somebody who understands the life?
Sam and Dean in 13.23 “Let the Good Times Roll” by Andrew Dabb:
DEAN: But on a beach somewhere, you know? Can you imagine? You, me, Cas, toes in the sand, couple of them little umbrella drinks. Matching Hawaiian shirts, obviously. Some hula girls. SAM: You talking about retiring? You? DEAN: If I knew the world was safe? Hell, yeah. And you know why? 'Cause we freaking earned it, man.
Sam and Dean in 15.08 “Our Father, Who Aren’t in Heaven” by Eugenie Ross-Lemming and Brad Buckner:
DEAN: Look, man, I didn't want to say anything, okay, 'cause I was kind of in in a bad place, and, uh, yeah, I didn't want to jinx it or whatever, but, you know, I tried the family thing, right? SAM: Yeah, me too. And that's not for us. DEAN: No, not really. But I'm just saying if it was to work, Eileen, you know, she gets it. She gets us. She gets the life. She's hot. SAM: Dean. I mean, I'm not even- DEAN: Look, all I'm saying is you- you could do worse, okay? And she could certainly do better. Like, so much better. I'm happy for you, Sammy.
Dean and Garth in 15.10 “The  Heroes’ Journey” written by Andrew Dabb:
DEAN: You know, I gotta say, aside from pincushion in there… this is pretty nice. GARTH: Yeah, better than I ever thought I'd get. I mean, hunting -- I figured I'd be dead before I'm 40. You know, go out young and pretty. But now I've got a great wife, great kids. I guess...sometimes things work out.
Dean in 15.10 “The Heroes’ Journey” by Andrew Dabb:
Dean, wistful, watching through the window as Garth and Bess dance: You know, I always thought I could be a good dancer if I wanted to be.
Ok, let those roll around in your brain for moment. 
Now: CONTEXT. CONTEXT. CONTEXT.
There’s this long running arc about maybe Sam and Dean could each find a significant other, not white picket fence, but...something, with someone already in the life, who gets their life. There’s Dean’s move from despairing and believing the only ending he could have, the only ending any hunter could have, is dying with a gun in hand, to Dean’s enthusiasm for the concept of retirement, Dean’s wistfulness about finding a significant other, for what he thinks he can’t have, and he starts the cycle all over again, if he can’t have it, then he wants Sam to have it, so Dean encourages Sam with Eileen. Saileen, the Dean-blessed, Dean-approved Sam ship. Dean ships it. And that is how the canon is trending, complete with Sam and Eileen kissing goodbye and saying “this is real” and even God himself saying their feelings were real, “that was all you,” even if God manipulated events around them. Which is an overt mirror to Dean and Cas and Dean’s expressly stated doubts about what’s real and what isn’t, and Cas telling Dean “we are.” 
Much the way Sam has been witness to Destiel, and has often pointed out Dean’s Cas feelings. Dean’s got a front row seat to Saileen and approves; Sam’s had a front row seat to Destiel and approves. 
Let’s throw in Robert Berens’ work in The Trap here, since that’s relevant to this specific topic as well, because why did Sam and Dean in the potential future timeline where they’d killed Chuck give up and cave in to their vampire instincts? The world being overwhelmed with monsters...and losing Eileen and losing Cas. It’s right there in the dialogue. I’ll give you the quote and everything:
Sam and Dean in 15.09 “The Trap” by Robert Berens:
SAM: You want to quit? What's happened to you, Dean? Ever since -- DEAN: Ever since what? We lost pretty much everyone we've ever cared about? Ever since the Mark made Cas go crazy? Ever since I had to bury him in a Ma'lak box? Ever since then? Yeah. You know why? 'Cause the monsters -- they're everywhere. Everywhere! What we do -- it's not even Hunting anymore. It's whack-a-mole. We don't even save people. Every friend we've ever had is either dead, or they got wise and they packed it in. SAM: Jody's still fighting, and Bobby -- DEAN: Bobby has a death wish, and you know it. And Jody -- ever since what happened to Donna and the girls, she does, too. And after Eileen... so do you.
“Ever since” Dean had to bury Cas in a Ma’lak box. “After Eileen...so do you.” 
So there’s this canonical long, long thread across multiple authors (and those weren’t even all the quotes, I’m sure people could dig up more) about Dean in particular yearning towards finding a significant other, some contentment, with someone who already is in the hunting life, who gets it, who understands.  
An episode that flat out shows how losing their significant others is the final straw that rips out Sam and Dean’s last will to fight, and they lose themselves, and after they’re turned into vampires, they just...give into the darkness. Where Sam gives up their shot at destroying the big bad because losing everyone they love is too high a cost. Where losing Cas makes Dean lose hope, where losing Eileen sends Sam into a death wish mindset. Sam and Dean don’t just need each other. That’s not canon, it never has been.
And then right after that, along comes meta episode The Heroes’ Journey. Sorry if you don’t like The Heroes’ Journey, but it’s what the canon did, it’s textual, along with everything else I’ve pointed out here, and in among the crackish humor are some real emotional narrative points. 
In The Heroes’ Journey, Dean gets to see Garth’s life. Garth found his significant other, Bess, and she’s another werewolf. Now, Garth’s life resembles the traditional white picket fence idea a lot more than what Team Free Will are headed for. Garth has a big house with a porch, and he’s a dentist. He’s also a werewolf and his wife is a werewolf and his kids are werewolves because Bess is a pureblood werewolf, Garth didn’t exactly leave the life, and he helps Sam and Dean on a case. But nothing’s been indicating to me that anyone in Team Free Will is headed for that kind of settling down, with a house, becoming a dentist. However, the canon has been practically shouting now, as we near final episodes of SPN, to make the point about a desirable outcome--some kind of stability, contentment, and a significant other. Dean gets a front row seat to seeing a hunter can have that. Garth’s a hunter who turned into a werewolf and he can have that. 
When EP’s talk about how they aren’t headed for a white picket fence or driving off into the sunset or settling down, none of that rules out them finding...something...with someone, and some form of stability and contentment.  Nope, I can’t really imagine them in the suburbs becoming dentists. But canon sure is putting up big neon arrows to...something. Think outside the box. This isn’t about the white picket fence. 
And in The Heroes’ Journey, Dean, conked out on the good gas so Garth can fix his teeth, has a trippy dream where he dances with a lamp.
Rewatch the ep. Look at how the dance is choreographed not just the use of light, because that’s a clue too. The whole dance could have been Dean and Garth being dancing bros, but Garth fades off the stage, and Dean dances alone...until he grabs the standing lamp. In a season where Dean and Cas’s relationship is an A-plot, define it how you like, it’s A-plot. Their breakup and their reconciliation, which played like a marital breakup and reconciliation, are tied to major mytharc beats. In a season where a long-running textual theme about Dean’s developing hope for retirement and his wistfulness about “things...people...feelings...” is getting further play. Where Dean and Cas’s relationship continues to be one of the show’s most central ones.
Dean dances with a lamp. While his emotionally fraught, intense close relationship with Cas--A BEING MADE OF LIGHT--has a long-running arc and recently more and more textual level content spelling out the sublimated romantic interest in small words, while there’s an arc about Dean’s yearning for that stability, contentment, a significant other.
CONTEXT. 
We don’t think Destiel’s “going canon” because Dean dances with a lamp, it’s that Dean dancing with a lamp is kinda loud serving as reflection of canon textual arcing. Sometimes subtext adds a layer. Sometimes subtext is directly tied to the surface layers, an echo, a highlighter.
I’ll just be over here, crying because Dean danced with a lamp.
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louiszeastronaut · 3 years
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“𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎... 𝙸 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞” - Tom Riddle x y/n
Note: So basically, I took the dialogues from a scene in Little Women, when Laurie proposes to Jo, but she rejects. Then I replaced the two characters with y/n and Tom. I tweaked some sentences in the dialogues, and wrote the sentences outside of the dialogues with my own words just to make it fit the story... I haven’t finished it (3/26/21 I guess I finished it?) because I wanted to know if you all think I should continue or not. Idk what this is man lol.
Warnings: terrible grammar and punctuation mistakes :)) Word Count: 1,447
March 19, 2021
    “Penelope married” you said aloud.
    “Nanette of to Europe.” there was a brief pause between you and Tom.
     “And now that you’re a graduate you’ll be off on a long holiday” you continued, panting as you walked down the sloping hill.
    “I’m not good like Padma, so I’m angry and I’m restless.”
    “You don’t have to stay here y/n” he suggested
    “Why?”      “Should we run off and join a pirate ship?” You joked, turning your attention back to him, grinning at yourself. You peered at him just after laying your eyes on the orange and red maple trees that lie so vibrantly, and vastly ahead of you. Then you saw his solemn face. And yours fell into a yearning grave of its own.
    “No. No…”  you stared blankly at him, knowing what he’s hinting at.
    “It’s no use y/n” he reached for your hands, but you neglected it and pulled away “Y/n we’ve got to have it out…”
    “No please don’t-
    “I have loved you ever since I’ve known you y/n I couldn’t help it!”
    “Tom… no-
    “A-and I tried to show you, and you wouldn’t let me, even though I struggle to show it to anyone-
   “But I must make you hear it now, and give me an answer because-” he said through a weighted sigh, “Because I cannot  go on like this any longer y/n!”
   “No..”
  “I gave up the dark arts, I gave up everything you didn’t like, I’m happy I did. It’s fine. And I waited and I never complained!” He cried aloud, spectacles of tears starts forming in his eyes, then rolling down his pale cheek.
    “Cause I-“ he paused, face angry and flustered that he’s showing his rather pathetic side to you, and letting the fact that he’s showing this just to profess his love, is absolutely harrowing and ludicrous! Even for him. But he can’t seem to hinder himself away from it, nor does he feel like he has to, because at this point he had to finish what he didn’t originally appointed to say.       “Cause I figured you’d love me y/n!” He yelled.
    “A-and I realized I’m not half as good enough-
    “No! Yes you are!” You exclaimed back.
     “And I’m not this great man, and-
     “No! No Tom, yes you are!” “You are.” He stopped talking, catching his breath so you finally had your turn of say.
     “You’re a great deal too good for me” you say as you pointed your finger on his chest, nudging it reassuringly. “And I’m so grateful to you. And I’m so proud of you and- and I just don’t see why I can’t love as you want me to“ you pleaded. “I don’t know why”
       “You can’t?” Tom asked in a whisper, his eyes darted away as you hear the echo in his voice.
       “No… I can’t- I can’t change how I feel. And it would be a lie to say that I do, when I don’t”
       “I’m so sorry Tom-“ your eyes still fixed on him, you could see him thinking, biting the insides of his cheek. “I’m so sorry” you repeated more imploringly. “But I just can’t help it…”
        “I can’t love anyone else y/n I only love you” he admitted
         “Tom it would be a disaster if we were married, okay?”
         “It wouldn’t be a disaster!” He argued
          “We’d be miserable-
          “GOD BE A PERFECT SAINT!” He yelled
           “I CAN’T! I can’t! I’ve tried it- and I’ve failed!” you exclaimed, your words trembling in the end. You realized you were staring directly through his cold grey eyes, used to be full of depth and sudden rupture, but now clouded with his blinded feelings that you can’t help but hopelessly deny. Both of you let the words hang over the air for a while...
           “Why does everyone expect it then?!” He continued, “Why does your family and my friends expect it?!”
           “Why are you saying this?! Say yes-“ he nudged his hand forward, offering you something you have stubbornly refused many times in this feud “And let’s be happy together.”
          “I can’t say yes truly. So I’m not gonna say it at all. And you’ll see that I’m right eventually and you’ll thank me for it“ you explained grabbing ahold of both his freezing hands in front of you, making sure he understood where you’re coming from. Your clutch loosened as he writhes away from hands.
         He breathed out more heavily than before, head shaking, headspace nowhere to be found. He was tired of rambling and letting his words foam out of his mouth. It was quiet for a brief moment that it felt like everything around you suddenly vanished, and you two were left alone with only your souls crying out to be heard by the other. The air was taut and quiet, that you noticed his uneven breathing patterns, and only then you recognized that your heart was beating the same way. Beat. Breath. Beat… Breath… Beat…..
       “I’d rather hang myself then realize this y/n.” He broke the silence.
        “Tom-“
       “I would rather be dead.”
       “Tom don’t say that!” you bellowed wearily. He put his hands in his pocket and started walking away. You could see his jaw clenching, you’ve learned from your time spent being with him that he does this only when he’s angry. But, not like this. He’s still trudging even more further down the hill, his shoulders bouncing as gravity pulled him down, so you had to catch up.         “Tom, listen...” “You’ll find some lovely accomplished girl!” you say as you flailed your arm in the air, then reach up to grasp his shoulder from behind, while resting your other hand on his tensed back. Only to find him tearing his arm away from your touch, rather harshly. You felt his hurt. You felt guilty for ever making anyone feel this way. Especially if that ‘anyone’ is him.
        “Who will love you and adore you, and- and she’ll make a fine mistress for your fine house! But I wouldn’t alright?!” 
        “Yes you would y/n...”
        “Tom. Tom- look at me!”  “I’m homely, and I’m awkward, and I’m odd!” 
         “I love you y/n....” Tom said in a monotone voice, watching you play out and degrade yourself as what you think your negative qualities are, just so that you could point out to him why you think you two shouldn’t be together. 
         “And you’d be ashamed me of me-” you added
         “I love you y/n.” He interrupted, repeating the same words but more clamorously this time.            “And-and we would quarrel, we can’t help it even now!!!” you shouted, later noticing how unapologetically you sounded. You wanted to keep talking but you decided to stop to catch your breath first. You could feel the burn rising in your throat from yelling, but you continued on.           “I’d hate elegant society, you’d hate my scribbling... and we would be unhappy, and we wished we hadn’t done it! And- and everything will be horrid-” You ranted. You opened your mouth again to say something but decided against it. Now, you’re looking down at the ground as you think how you might’ve made the situation even worse. You can’t imagine what Tom’s feeling right now... for all you know this was the only time he has ever confessed his bigger emotions that you didn’t know he had.                  “Anything more?” He inquired, laying his eyes upon you after looking away for a few seconds.            “No...” you answered,“Nothing more...”
          “Alright.” He whispered while nodding simultaneously, clenching his jaw again. He hiked up the hill slowly, dragging his feet along the sharp grass.
           “Except that-” you appended, not knowing what choice of words you should declare next. As you searched your thoughts, asking your own brain to form the correct words, Tom shot his head back quickly. Bobbing his head along as he approached you again, as if he was waiting for you to say that you might feel even the slightest bit of devotion that you are willing to give to him in that tethered heart of yours. Unfortunately for him, still, that’s not what you’re after.
       “Tom...” you started “Tom- I don’t believe I will ever marry...” you dismissed through a forlorn scoff, admitting this to yourself and to him for the first time because you believed that that’s where your fate have destined you.         “I am happy as I am, and I love my liberty to well to be in any hurry to give it up”
       “I think you’re wrong about that y/n...
       “No...
        “I think you will marry y/n.” 
        “I think you’ll find someone and love them, and you’ll live and die for them because that’s your way and you will...
        “And I’ll watch”
(Finished?)
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fruitless-nonsense · 3 years
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Okay, so I didn’t actually think anyone would care what I had to say. I just saw a post that riled me up and I wrote that to let off some steam. That being said, to everyone who liked my post or just read it thank you from the bottom of my heart. Seriously it means so much to me that there are people who notice what I have to say. That being said, I want to do more of these cause I have a lot of opinions that aren’t widespread, and I’d like to start with a post gushing about a certain character that receives too much hate. However, seeing as this isn’t a rant out of agitation this might take a bit longer to get out. With that long introduction out of the way... Cami O’Connell!
As I said, Cami is my favorite female character in the whole of the tvdverse (Bonnie is a close second). The reason why I want to start with her instead of Bonnie or my favorite character (Marcel) is because while both were royally screwed with by the writers, there are plenty of fans online who sing their praises (as they deserve). However, when it comes to Cami the consensus online is either hatred or indifference by a vast majority of the fans (that being said there are still a good amount of people who do love her I’m not saying there aren’t, but they are in the minority). This is something I never quite understood, but I’m gonna try my best educated guess on it.
I suppose before I go any further, I have a confession to make. The way I watched both tvd and to was not a straight line. Several years ago, I decided to finally watch tvd and started with the first two season (which I really liked), then a youtuber dropped a video analyzing the pilot for to and the premise hooked me immediately so I started the first season and kept watching until finishing the third, then I decided to go back and watch tvd seasons three and four, then got bored so I switched back to finish to, and finally after a few months declared I wanted to finish what I started and slogged through the second half of tvd. Why is this relevant? Well I just wanted to inform y’all as this might’ve led to my different perspectives on many things in both shows, and it hopefully can somewhat explain my reasoning
Going back to Cami, why is she my favorite female? A multitude of reasons. Firstly, I love how different she is from other female characters we’ve seen. Characters like Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline are fun in their own right, with bubbly personalities and childish innocence. This makes sense because they’re teenagers! Even Elena’s angst comes off more like young naivety than a wayward soul. I’m not knocking this characterization, it makes sense that a show aimed at teenagers would have teenage girls as it’s main cast. Where am I going with this? Cami might be the most mature character we’ve seen in this universe that actually has a pretty big part in the cast. What I mean is that shows like this paint maturity on women as being motherly or a stick in the mud, but Cami is neither. She’s still fun and loose, but with an aura of restraint and intelligence that needs to be accumulated over time. She’s not even that old! My guesstimation puts her at 23 cause we know she’s graduated college with a degree in psychology and was already working at Rousseau’s in the pilot (you mean to tell me you don’t just get your dream job right out of college, you have to work some dead end jobs first? YA lied to me!). I don’t know how quite to describe it beyond that, Cami just feels like a real person to me, and that makes me invested in her life even more.
Secondly, is her personality beyond her intelligence. I love how empathetic and kind she is! In the span of three seasons, she had helped almost everyone in the show while never sticking her feet into the main drama. That’s another thing, she knows when something’s over her head and will step out when she can, when something is pushing her, she fights back. I love that despite how kind hearted she is, she’s not a pushover. If there’s something she doesn’t like, she will attest. She may be nice, but get on her bad side and her sass will cut you like a knife. Considering she’s only a human against these witches, vampires, and originals you would call this unrealistic, but it works because unlike most people on the show, she’s smart. I know I just said beyond her intelligence, but I just want to gush about how fun it is watching Cami get out of trouble on her own by using nothing but her brain (I just think it’s neat). Characters this complex are not usually reserved for women on the cw, which leads into my final reason.
I love how much agency Cami has throughout her run on the show! Like, her story isn’t stapled to Klaus, she does so much without him even being there. In tvd, I can’t think of a single storyline Elena had that wasn’t tied to one or both of the Salvatore brothers, Bonnie is constantly being abused by the writers, Caroline is forcibly impregnated, Hayley starts off with her own goals before being tied to Jackson and later Elijah, Davina also starts off with her own ambitions before also being shackled to her love interest to resurrecting Kol being her only storyline in season three. I’m sure there are more, but these are just ones off the top of my head. While this makes me wish she had her own storyline, I acknowledge she is a supporting character (which begs the question of why none of the women in the main cast get this luxury but I digress).
This has been very long, and we’re just getting to complaints. Unlike complaints about the ship, I have yet to find an argument about why Cami sucks that isn’t factually incorrect, so if you have one please share. The first complaint I hear is that Cami is a copy of Caroline (I’ll give y’all that have seen the show a second to stop laughing at the statement). I’ve already explained why Caroline and Cami are two very different characters (hint: one is bubble and energetic and one is calm and mature), I know they’re both blonde, nice, empathetic, and have names that start with c, but try paying attention to what you’re watching then maybe you’ll have a better grasp on it. Secondly is that Cami’s only purpose is being Klaus’ love interest. Like I stated, there’s a lot Cami does where Klaus isn’t even present, unless you’re saying everyone Cami has had a story with was a love interest (So Davina, Josh, Hayley, Elijah, Marcel cerca season two onward, Vincent, Lucien, that detective guy, and her uncle Kieran), in that case I think y’all are onto something with Cami being a Mary Sue cause she getting all the action (note the sarcasm)! That’s another thing, people say Cami’s a Mary Sue cause almost everyone loves her and she has basically no flaws. First of all, I don’t believe Mary Sue to be a character problem but a story problem, and above all an excuse to neuter powerful women lest they make fragile men uncomfortable. Second of all, we see Cami form these relationships in real time through her actions not by her existence. Third of all (not that she needs them to be a good character since other favs don’t), Cami has her stubbornness that eventually got her killed and the fact that strength wise she is the weakest character in the show by her being human.
Are you catching on to some of what I’m saying? Most of these complaints aren’t even true, yet it’s all we hear. My first inclination was to blame this hatred on klaroline shippers who were bitter that their ship could no longer sail, but then I saw posts of people who claimed not to ship them and still hated Cami because she was “just a love interest.” Which leads into the other problem with haters: the hypocrisy. Reasons people hate Cami are elements in other characters that these same people love. Never mind the fact that some of these complaints don’t even apply to her like the love interest thing. To use something that isn’t a lie, people will hate on Cami for sleeping with Marcel in season one when Marcel is Klaus’ son, meanwhile y’all seem to forget Elena not only dated but cheated on Stefan with Damon in the finale of tvd season two (spoiler: she kissed him on his deathbed while her boyfriend and his brother was searching for a way to save him, which doesn’t even go into all their kisses in season three) and furthermore shipping Marcel with Rebekah who would be his aunt (I know some people who ship them acknowledge this but damn). I also know these people jumped at the chance to attack Cami for stealing the white oak stake in season three and ignoring what she was going through meanwhile will wave past everything Elena, Damon, and Caroline did when they had their humanity turned off as “they were going through a lot” (disclaimer: no hate to either of those girls, they were understandably in much pain, just wanna expose the hypocrisy). This all made me reevaluate the reasoning as more than just shippers being bitter, this seemed much more malicious to just be that.
After a lot of thought, my only conclusion I can come to is sexism. Cami is a very different female character than what we’re used to, she’s strong willed, opinionated, smarter than the men, and more mature. I guess fans weren’t ready for a character like that so assumed it was bad or just wrote her off as too different, but that’s giving the benefit of the doubt. To be honest, I still don’t know why she was so hated and continues to be ignored by fans, but maybe it’s time we start asking that question. It’s time we appreciate characters like this so maybe we can have more of them on the cw. It’s time to give Camille O’Connell and Leah Pipes the respect they deserve!
(P.S - Can someone far more talented than me please put out some Cami x reader content? I’m starved of my girl and Leah is too pretty for my gay brain to function!)
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abluescarfonwaston · 3 years
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Hi! So, um,, I know this isn't something you should ask a writer so please feel free to ignore this. I was wondering,, , your "the white wolves" story has brought me so much joy and I am grateful that you wrote it! I was just wondering, if you're not going to finish it (this isn't meant to pressure you. If you don't want to finish it that is 100% fine and your choice and I'm thankful for the five chapters you gave us!!!) so, anyway, I was wondering what the conclusion was going to be? If you're comfortable answering that. If not, that's absolutely fine of course and I'm sorry for asking.
Thank you so much for your lovely stories and I hope you're having a wonderful day!
Okay first off, we're totally cool don't even worry about it. I am always touched people still care about and think about an unfinished piece from like 10 months ago. And now that I have seen that it's almost been a year I feel it is important to point out that while this fic has clearly been physically abandoned, it has not been emotionally. Or Else I would not have spent the last hour pacing back and forth angrily lamenting that I do not have more hands. I do not want to provide you with an unsatisfactory summary in an undercut about how the story was going to unfold. It is not that I mind sharing these details - I have done so to others who have asked. It's just that admitting something I still love so dearly may never get done hurts.
Hopefully one day I will find that voice again.
Spoilers for a fic that will (probably) never get finished under the cut. It is 2.6k and includes most of the final section.
The next sequence in the story is them all taking a nap on the side of the road. Jaskier gets up and calls Yennifer for help. Do you know that part in the books where Yennifer saves Dandelion and he doesn't know why? Because I owed you one. You kept him from being alone. I think about that alot. I think that's why she comes. Not then. She meets them at the keep in a few days time. She is too tired to arrive before then.
There is a scene of the four of them in an inn. Of Ciri, afraid to sleep least she destroy the inn like she destroyed that forested grove. We have a moment when he looks at candle on the inn nightstand and remembers a inn fire that almost killed him and how he hadn't wanted to sleep in an inn ever again. (I foreshadowed it. It's allowed. I once read that Regis saved Dandelion from an inn fire. I thought it was canon. I know its not. I think. I only ever read the short stories. They sit on my shelf. One day I'll read them.) He understands. Still he tucks her in and tells her it will be alright. That is the empty words of adults who lie to children that they think do not know better. No. It is the empty words of a bard whose job is to write lullabies that get children to bed on time. Besides it will be fine. Even if things go bad, we will be with you the entire time.
These are the two scenes I largely blame for the fact I stopped writing this fic. I got stuck on Yennifer's conversation and then wasn't sure how to get that inn scene to actually play out. Anyway. Back to the part you were actually asking about. What's the deal with the wolves? Both of them.
They arrive at the keep. They are greeted and loved and yeered at and pestered. Jaskier is nervous and concerned as he eyes the silver in their blades. It is strange they believe the doppler. But he was a very good Doppler. He digs his fingers into white fur. Remember you promised. You promised you were him. Don't let it be a lie.
And oh I have lost the voice but they are in the great hall with Vesemir and Eskel and Lambert and Geralt and Geralt and Yennifer. She peers into his eyes and does not reveal him. Silver medallions brush against skin and he does not flinch or melt. Geralt of Rivia is Geralt of Rivia. Of this there is no doubt.
The conversation turns to Ciri and Jaskier quietly slips out. It is snowing, just a few flurries on the still air. The wolf flows him to the room they set their bags in. Geralt's room.
This was not how it was meant to go. This is not how it was meant to go. Yennifer was supposed to look at the doppler and then at him and go what the hell and they would slip away and break the curse on the wolf - on Geralt. And they would quietly change hands. The Doppler into the wolf. The wolf into Geralt. Ciri would not know of the quiet deception they had pulled. The magicians trick with revolving mirrors.
Because clearly the doppler loved them. Because clearly the doppler had chosen them. Do you ever think about how in the short story Geralt is ready to kill the doppler that wears his face and it knows this because it is also him so it turns into Dandelion. Because he Knows Geralt would never hurt Dandelion? It's falling in with a lie. It is so easy to in love with a lie. Jaskier knows this.
It was supposed to be like this. Laying in a bed in the Keep with a white wolf next to him. Playing ballads for Geralt and Yennifer and Ciri and not hurting. Because he'd lay next to the wolf at night and bury his face in its fur. And in the spring they would run off to the coast together. You can wear a different face, whatever one you'd like, and will prove to you again and again that I still love you.
I am good at loving people. You know this about me. I might not be able to love you first. That might be why you love me. Because I loved Geralt of Rivia first. So completely that whatever motive you had you abandoned for the sake of it. For the taste of it. I know what it is like to want so desperately to be loved. Wearing different faces and personalities in the chance that someone might.
I know that very well.
But unlike you I'm always still just Jaskier.
The wolf slips in the door behind him.
Jaskier rounds on him. 'What the actual fuck? What the fuck are you? You Promised me. You Promised me you were him." The medallion bounces off his chest and he hates it. Rips it from his neck and brandishes it like a weapon. "I kept this for you! I thought you were him! You promised me you were him! What are you?! I told you I would help you even if you weren't him! Why?!"
The circle of the medallion cuts into his hand.
"Is this funny to you? Bringing me all the way up here and making me look a fool?! Making me watch Geralt picker her Again? Is this funny to you? You and this sadistic game?!"
And he throws the medallion. It hits the wolf dead on. Hit's his bowed forehead. Right between the eyes. Just in front of his flattened ears.
He has always been a good shot.
It is snowing outside. Just a few more flurries. The winter stretches out, immeasurably long in front of him.
He knows who Geralt chooses. That those 'I love you's are lies. No. Not lies. Geralt did not mean to lie. Not intentional. But it was so easy when your heart is broken to bury yourself in someone that does. Love you. Drowning men love life boats but they'd much rather be on the ship that cast them out.
He knows. It exactly what he was doing too.
I love you doppler. I could love you too.
The winter stretches immeasurably long in front of him.
"I can't do this." There is a bag in his hand. A case. "I can't do this."
There is a whine but he does not hear it as he rushes out the door. He can't do this. Down the stone hall. Wind whips through a hairline fracture in the Keeps walls and cuts his cheeks red where they are wet. He can't do this. Out the doors. Through the large wooden gates. He can't do this.
The winter stretches immeasurably long in front of him.
In the great hall a sickening feeling curdles in Geralt's gut. Honestly its seeing Yennifer again. This is all so wildly out of hand. Even if he knows they need her. That Ciri needs her.
"It's startin' to snow. Your idiot better come back soon."
"What?" He turned to Lambert who had curled up in a mountain of blankets in the window nearest the fire.
"Said it's starting to snow, dumbass."
"No the other part."
"Peacock left a while ago. Think he had the right idea. If I'd know she was coming I'd have stayed down south."
"What?" Snow was coming down hard. Big wet flakes. Could hardly see the keep walls through them. "Why didn't you say so sooner?!"
He shrugged. "His dog went after him."
His gut does a funny thing then. It eases in relief before his brain catches up and yanks tight in terror.
The wolf went after Jaskier.
Jaskier is alone.
With the wolf.
In a snow storm.
Jaskier is is alone in a snow storm. He walks down the mountain alone. As he knew he would. Why did he think it would be any different this time? Why does he never learn? He is a fool.
The wind picks up. The snow buries the path. He huddles in a protected alcove and wishes he'd been thinking clearly enough to steal one of Geralt's cloaks. Just to be petty.
He is probably going to freeze on this mountain. Walking down it alone. He might die. But even if he doesn't something will have died. Something in his chest that he cradled like wounded bird.
How many times must you touch fire, how many times must you be burned before you learn? How many times Jaskier? How many times?
He pulled his doublet tighter around him.
Just the one more time it seemed. Just once more.
Barking. Just one voice barking. Barking into the snow and wind in the distance.
Are you looking for your pack? Did you get lost? Separated? I hope they find you. I hope they answer you. I wish I had a pack to call out to.
The snow drifts down in heavy blankets and there is nothing to do but sleep. All he wants to do is sleep.
There is warmth in his dreams. Heavy and warm and soft and reeking of wet dog and something deeper. Something less domesticated and tame.
"You found him?"
Geralt's voice. Deep and soft. Reaches him. Buried in the snow. Cruel and kind in equal measure. To make him hear that voice before he, probably, dies.
"... Thank you."
There is a gasp. He recognizes it. That shocked little inhale of Geralt's.
"I think... That druid overpaid."
He wakes up to a stone ceiling. To thick and heavy furs covering him. to a wolf pressed into his side. To a man known as the white wolf pressed into the other.
Words will find him soon. But for now they are held back by a dam of confusion and exhaustion.
Geralt reaches an arm over him and scratches at the wolf's forehead. "Hm." Got it. The hum says. The same one he uses when Jaskier reminds him to pick something up in town. Hm. Got it.
The dam breaks.
"Oh so you're just okay with each other now? Everything is hunky dory? Jaskier goes out into a snow storm and you drag him - Unwillingly mind you - back here and now you're best fucking friends?! Well it's not all A-O-Kay over here so perhaps you might let me up so I can demand Yennifer do me the solid of getting me out of this godforsaken keep?" He wiggled under the mountain of blankets that held him captive.
"Wha-" Geralt's hand pressed down on his chest. Preventing escape.
"Or you know just go back to the love of your life, take your one goddamn blessing and leave me be!"
"Jask-"
"Oh don't give me that- you're gonna run right off after Yennifer and we both know it and you," Glared. Bared his teeth at the wolf. "Are a lying manipulative bastard and I hope she turns you into a gnat or a pigeon or - or something!"
"Jaskier!"
His jaw clicked closed. He did not soften his gaze.
"We- He - it's not. He didn't lie."
He scowled harder at Geralt.
"You remember that druid Ciri told you I helped?"
"... Vaguely."
A woman and woman who was not her wife. But was. In his story, in his song, he would tell it as if she was.
You saved my heart, I don't know what I'd have done if she. She. Witcher how can I ever repay you?
What food do you have on you?
Uh.
Fine. We don't have time. Don't tell them which way have gone.
No that's not- perhaps the law of su-
No. No. Lie. That will be enough.
It's not!
"He," Nodded to the wolf. "Was how she decided to pay."
He studied Geralt. Then the wolf. Their matching golden eyes.
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
Geralt grimaced. Hair falling over his face. "He's a familiar. She made him for me. Of me."
He studied the wolf again, distrustingly. "How does that work?"
Shrugged a shoulder. "You'd have to ask Yen."
"Don't care that much." He tried to wave his hand and the idea off but couldn't get it free from the covers. "Shouldn't you have known then? If he's made of you?"
"We weren't... connected. You have to. Touch."
"Oh and she thought you'd just go out of your way to touch a big white wolf? Honestly what was the plan there? You'd have just killed the damn thing."
"Mhmm."
"Seriously what kind of mad man goes out and pets a two hundred pound wolf? Could have at least tied a note to its neck for explanation before setting it loose on the countryside, wandering around looking for you."
"It wasn't..." He hummed his prodding question. "Looking for me. That's not what it was supposed to do."
"And pray tell what was it supposed to do?"
Geralt was quiet. The charged quiet that said he knew the answer but didn't want to tell him.
Eventually. With a fair bit of glaring and wiggling on his part, he answered.
"She was repaying the favor."
"Oh and what's that supposed to mean?! What you saved her partner and she sent the wolf to go out and save yours?" He scoffed. "What did she magic you 'a white wolf to protect your heart when you could not?' as you did for her? Is that it? Absolutely absurd, I wouldn't write that drivel."
Neither Geralt met his eye.
"Geralt...?"
"That's..." He ducked his head. "Hm."
Right.
"But then why-"
A wolf appears in the darkness. All white fur and golden eyes. Protects him from the bandits. Brings him a rabbit when his stomach growls.
I love you Jaskier. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize.
They lay on the bedroll and Geralt kisses him like a thousand drunken kisses. Like a thousand sober ones. And the wolf follows after Ciri and comforts her when they cannot.
The wolf seeks him out in that ruined clearing while Geralt cradles Ciri. While Geralt debates with Yennifer and Vesemir over Ciri's fate. Her training.
I love you Jaskier.
Protect his heart, white wolf, when he cannot.
"Oh."
He let his head fall to the side. Watched Geralt watch him with those golden eyes he had memorized decades ago. Listened to the sound of his breathing that was more familiar than his own.
"Tell me again."
Geralt cocked his head a fraction. Brow furrowed in confusion.
"Tell me again, what I did not believe. If it is true. Tell me again. Geralt of Rivia."
"Tell you...?"
"I love you, Geralt. Despite all sense and reason. Do not lie to me. Do not pretend if I am fated to walk down that mountain alone again. Do not lie to me."
His eyes widened. He pushed himself up and over him. Caged him in his muscular, scarred arms. Shoved the wolf aside.
It grumbled. Huffed. Walked out of the room. Towards Ciri. Towards his heart.
"Jaskier. I love you." He said again.
And this time. This time he believed him.
"Then, You absolute fool and dullard." With only Geralt to hold him down he worked his arms free. Held Geralt's head in his hands. Traced the stubble of his jaw that he could, if he needed to, shave blind. From memory alone. "Kiss me. I have waited long enough."
Geralt leaned down and did.
He remembered the barking of a single wolf. It's howls into the storm. Searching for its pack.
I hope your pack finds you. He wished to its unseen form.
Mine did.
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ilovefandoms102 · 3 years
Text
Forever
Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader
Summary: How it all began, and where it went wrong...
Note: I wrote this once a while ago at the very beginning of my blog and got no likes on it so I’m reposting since now I have a larger fanbase so I hope you guys enjoy!
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I come from the planet Tattooine, the place where Ben's uncle, and his grandfather grew up. My parents abandoned me when I was 15 when I started showing my powers, they feared I was a danger to them. Luke found me and raised me as his own, the Jedi ways engraved into my brain. 
Then I met Ben, we clicked instantly becoming inseparable from that moment on. I knew it was wrong, that the Jedi weren't meant to fall in love. Luke had warned me that my infatuation needed to end because Ben wasn't the man I thought he was, that he would go dark. I had felt the disturbance in the Force from him as well, but I couldn't leave him.
Ben Solo is the love of my life, I say is because I know he is still here. He is not dead inside of Kylo Ren like so many people believe. I was there the night the temple was destroyed......what is so sinister about it is that the temple was destroyed the night of our wedding. It was a secret wedding, we had to sneak away to have the ceremony. We were promised to each other for better or for worse, but I don't think your husband killing your Jedi classmates is what they meant by worse...
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6 Years earlier:
"Ben...wha-what did you do?" I asked, looking at my husband. He had a murderous expression on his face that scared me.
"He tried to kill me..." he said, gripping his saber tighter.
"Who? Honey, what's going on?" I asked again, putting my hands to his cheeks.
"Luke," was all he said, tears welling in his eyes.
"Ben..." I whispered.
"Ben is gone." he said, pushing my hands away.
"What?" I asked, taking a step back from him. My heart crushing as I knew what this meant, he was turning to the dark side.
"My name is Kylo Ren now. The Supreme Leader has called to me because he knows how to train me to my full potential." he explained, as if we weren't surrounded by our dead classmates and a burning temple.
"This is not the Jedi way Ben, what are you thinking?!" I shouted at him.
"It wasn't the Jedi way for us to fall in love, yet here we are." he said, shrugging his shoulders.
"People of the dark side cannot show love Ben. How can you sit there and claim to love me, but are choosing this path?" I asked, keeping a grip on my light saber in case things went south.
"The Supreme Leader is willing to work with our...circumstances." he revealed, turning to walk towards a ship that wasn't there before.
"Ben stop!" I yelled, running after him.
"Do you love me?" he asked, catching my arm in a tight grip.
"What kind of question is that I married your dumb ass!" I said, shoving him off me.
"Y/n/n," he whispered.
"Ben...I can't." I whimpered.
"Come with me and we can rule the galaxy!" he said, smiling but it was not the smile of my Ben.
"I-" I started, Ben interrupting me.
"Y/n/n, you are my life. I love you more than anything in this galaxy, I need you by my side baby...please." he said, leaning his forehead on mine.
"Forever?" I asked. We used that as a way to reassure the other that we would always love one another, forever.
"Forever my love." he said, leaning down to kiss me.
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Present:
I was in the private gym Kylo had made sure all the officers on the First Order knew was only for me. I somehow got away with not being trained by Snoke and continued my Jedi training, using books I stole from the Temple. I was meditating when I felt my husbands presence. I continued with my training as he watched me from the other side of the room.
"You're so beautiful my darling" he said, that stupid mask of his altering his real voice. I'd love to pitch that thing into space, he knows I hate it too.
"You know I don't respond when you have that thing on Ben." I said coldly.
I heard the click and hiss of the mask being taken off as I lowered myself, turning to face him. I was only allowed to use Ben when we were alone, in the eye of the First Order we were Mr. and Mrs. Kylo Ren. I hated it so much, I was currently in the works of becoming a double agent for the Resistance, using the ways of the force to reach out to Leia.
 It hurt me more than anything to go against my husband, the one I'm supposed to stand with above all, but with the construction of the second Death Star coming to an end and knowing what they are using it for....I can't stay on this ship any longer.
Ben came closer to me, I had to tip my head further back the closer he got. My head barely reached his chest, he took his glove off so he could run his fingers through my hair. I lifted my eyes to meet his dark brown ones. I got on my tip toes and kissed him, this is what I would miss the most, the intimate moments we got to have with each other...when he acted like Ben and not Kylo. 
He moaned into my mouth, gripping the hair at my scalp to pull me closer. His other arm wrapped around my waist as he lifted me the few feet between our heights so he wouldn't have to bend his neck as far. I sifted my fingers in his black hair, using my other to grab his cheek. I pulled away first, my chest rising erratically from the lack of oxygen.
"I have a mission I'm leading, I'll be leaving in a few days. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone...I don't want to leave you." he spoke softly, leaning his cheek on mine. I hugged him tight, heartbroken that he would be leaving so soon.
"What will you be doing?" I asked, but I really didn't want to know. He sensed that as he narrowed his eyes at me, our Force bond tingling my mind as he was trying to read it. 
"Ben, quit trying to read my mind!" I yelled, slapping his arm.
"I'm sorry baby, but I was curious to know if you actually wanted to know...or if you were just trying to entertain me." he smiled, kissing my nose as he put me back on the ground.
We made our way to our quarters, Kylo now replacing my Ben. I hardly ever acknowledged anyone around us unless I was spoken to directly. I didn't ever go out of my way to speak to anyone either. If I had a question, I'd use my Jedi powers to read their mind or force them to tell me.
"Commander Ren, Lady Ren, How lovely to see you all on this fine afternoon." General Hux greeted as he came around a corner. 
I continued to walk until I felt a pull from the force, Ben stopping me in my place to talk to Hux. I gave him a death stare, he knows I don't like socializing with his people.
"What can I do for you General?" I asked, annoyed with Ben-Kylo’s insistance that I speak with Hux.
"I was hoping I could trouble you both for a meeting-" he started, but I was quick to interupt.
"No, I'm quite tired and wish to rest. You can have my husband though General." I said as I fought Ben's force, breaking free of it and walking into our room.
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Kylo's POV:
I stared as my wife walked into our quarters, rage of her disobedience burning inside me. I let her know through our Force bond that I was not happy with her, thankful the mask hid my feelings from General Hux. I turned back to look at the General, his presence annoying what I was hoping to be a enjoyable evening.
"What do you need General?" I asked again.
"I think we should take this to my office, away from prying ears." he said ,quietly. We arrived at his office, him sitting at his chair while I stood by the open window.
"We have received word that there might be a double agent roaming the ship..." Hux said, his eyes drifting down.
"This is what you had to disturb my evening with the Lady for?" I seethed, keeping my fists clenched at my sides.
"Commander, the rumors are claiming that the Lady is the double agent. That's why I thought we would speak here." the General looked at me with a terrified look on his face, as he should.
"How dare you!" I shouted, using the Force the choke this son of a bitch.
"Sir, please! I just wanted you to know before you heard from someone else!" Hux choked out.
I stormed out of the office, pushing past officers and troopers. I walked into my quarters, spotting Y/n in the kitchen. My anger started dissipating, her presence not only in the room, but through our bond calmed me. I forgot about being angry with her, I walked into our room and changed into comfier clothes.
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Y/n’s POV:
I felt Ben's presence behind me, but I ignored him to finish dinner. He was angry, but I couldn't tell why. He walked off as I could feel his anger disappearing. I turned off the stove and cleaned the dishes as dinner cooled down, I could hear Ben in our bedroom. I walked in to him taking his amour off, I couldn't help but stare. He was so beautiful and I felt so lucky to call this man mine despite his faults.
"See something you like baby?" He asked, his deep voice igniting a feeling in my lower regions.
"I think I'd like it better if you weren't facing away from me love," I teased, smiling at him.
He finished taking his clothes off, leaving him in just his black silk pants. He ran a hand through his hair as he turned to face me, I could feel him trying to rack my brain for what I was thinking. I let him in to see what I was thinking at that moment....How beautiful he was, how I loved him with my entire soul, and that I would be lost without him.
"Your thoughts are deep tonight my love, what's wrong?" he asked, putting his arms around my waist.
"I just...I don't like you going on solo missions...I don't like us being apart from each other." I confessed, putting my hands on his bare chest.
"Snoke wouldn't put me out there if he didn't think I could handle myself sweetheart. You above anyone should know I am very capable in battle." he said, squeezing me. I didn't like when he talked about Snoke, I rolled my eyes at the thought of that creature.
"Can't I come with you? We're better together than apart Benny." I whispered, hugging him. He laid his head on top of mine, sighing loudly.
"You really need to start calling me Kylo, you're going to slip in front of someone one day and The Supreme Leader will see me as still being drawn to the light." he muttered.
"You don't fool me Solo, I know there is still light in you." I said, not liking where the conversation was going.
Ben pulled away from me, stalking to the kitchen. He was slamming stuff around by the time I got in there, preparing himself a plate very angrily. I wish I had kept my mouth shut, the good mood we had going was ruined by my big mouth.
"Honey," I whispered, slowly walking closer to him.
"Don't y/n" he growled, I knew I was in deep shit when he used my full name.
I sighed, grabbing myself a plate. I sat beside him at our very large dining room table that we didn't need since we never had guests over, neither one of us the most social beings. We ate in very awkward silence, I was the first to finish. 
I cleaned up the kitchen, putting away leftovers then heading for the bathroom. I started up the huge shower we had installed, getting the water to the perfect temperature before stripping and stepping in.
I was in the middle of rinsing my conditioner out when I heard the door open, the door was glass so I could see that it was Ben. He stripped him self before joining me in the shower, we had another shower head installed for when we both were in the shower on opposite ends. 
He turned his on, wetting his hair. I couldn't help but stare at him, the way his arm muscles flexed when he ran his hands through his wet hair sometimes the veins popping out. I had to check to see if my mouth was hanging open. He walked over to me, I grew tense the closer he got.
"I'm sorry my love." he whispered, my heart melted.
"I'm sorry too." I said, looking down at my feet.
He grabbed the back of my head, forcing it to come up as he smashed his mouth to mine. I responded immediately, throwing my arms around his neck. Our tongues were in a battle for dominance, him winning of course. I let my hands roam over his body, feeling his muscles. I had to pull back to breathe, both of us panting hard.
"Forever?" he asked, staring into my eyes.
"Forever my love." I whispered.
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katerinabythesea95 · 2 years
Text
Hi there! I'm having a peter pan day and figured I'd do a list of thoughts on the movie. Also I'll be basing my rant mostly on the two animated movies because I haven't seen the other live ones (Hook, and the Jeremy sumpter version) in a while si I might make another one of these when I rewatch them again. Also I haven't read the original Novel so I can't make as many points as I could if I had...
I ADORE Disney, and Disney characters but Peter Pan is definitely hands down my fav Disney character if I had to choose only one.
Bobby Driscoll, the original actor and model for Peter was one of Disney's first child actors ever along with Luana Patten. (I don't know much about her) here they are together on either the song of the south or dear to my heart movie set.
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Just look at those sweet baby Angels😍😍😍😍😍😍 my heart
And more gifs of Bobby awwwwww 😍💖❤️
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Sadly, unlike Peter, Bobby had to grow up and when he did Disney just discarded him after he was no longer a sweet faced little boy. (I Love and admire Walt Disney SO MUCH but he wasn't perfect obviously and the wat he dealt with Bobby in the end makes me sick.) Also just for the record, Bobby was just as dashing as he was as a kid after he was older, look:
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Also note he most likely started to age faster than he was because of his drug abuse
Poor Bobby was taken out of the child actor school he attended to and was transferred to a regular public one, where the a hole children bullied him 🥺
He resorted to drugs and since he was loaded, he was able to get his hands on them and everything went spiraling from then on.
Long story short he had a tragic rest of his life and ending, and he deserved better. RIP Bobby
Okay now back to the movie:
One of the things i find very interesting is the fact that despite how bad captain hook treats Mr. Smee, he goes running to him like a scared little child the second he hears and sees the crocodile. Perhaps Smee was the one who raised hook? Maybe not all his life cause of the disrespectful way hook treats him but maybe hook was an orphan and smee took him in? Cause Smee also acts very coddling towards hook, trying to help and comfort him throughout the mishaps hook finds himself in during the movie.
So there's a theory I remember reading about how peter an the lost boys are orphans and they died and that's why they never grow up. And they take kids who die to neveland. I don't think it's really cannon but it's interesting because JM Barie, the man who wrote the novel, had an older brother who died young and that's where the whole peter pan story came from in the first place. (It's my least fav theory but it's too plausible for me too not at least aknowledge it.)
It could explain why neither Peter nor the lost boys remember their parents Besides the fact that they did have them at one point.
It's similar to how adults forget about Peter and Neverland.
Now we all know that Neverland is onna different time frame, as it Never changes which is why thw boys are the same and everything on the island is the same when we go back in return to Neverland.
Although I refuse to be practical about it the adult side of my brain also won't let me ignore that if the dead children theory isn't cannon, then the only logical explanation is that peter is a figment of imagination. Nothing more than childrens fantasies. There are little brief hints of this throughout the story.
As a kid and until now actually I never thought about why the lost boys wore animal costumes. Those....those aren't just normal costumes...😳😬
I love faires so much. Tinkerbell is the cutest thing and of course my favorite. I love her little chiming bell voice and I love how cute and sassy and cynical she is.
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I definitely ship her and peter
Peter is adorable as well. I love his happy-go-lucky, devil may care attitude. He's quite rude to Wendy and a bit of a brat but I love him still
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I personally think hook killed off all the other children in Neverland and the adults, only sparing the indians cause they were useful to them somehow, and the only reasons Peter and the lost boys are alive is cause helloooo they always outsmart the old codfish.
Hook himself said he loathed children and we see him try to kill off the boys, Wendy and Jane bit doesn't seem to care to finish off Tinkerbell.
Although hes a dumbass, I do like the fact that he embraces that he doesn't have a hand, he feels bad about it obviously, but did ya see the special set of gold hooks that he owned? His fancy set? He was basically like well I got a hook for a hand, might as well accept it and be creative with it. I mean come on why else would he want to make those of he hated his hook?
When Jane tells Peter she's Wendy's daughter he doesn't seem fazed by it or surprised much, but when he sees an adult Wendy he seemed upset and like he didn't really expect to see her that way. I wonder why that is. like if he knows time passes different on the mainland, (cause he visits other children as well) why was he so troubled?
OH AND I WANT DISNEY TO DO THE BACKSTORY OF HOW TINK AND PETER MET! LIKE HELLOOO DISNEY??? TELL US ALREADY AND GET WITH THE PROGRAM
I wanna thank Disney for doing a perfect Job at the voice casting in the second movie.. The characters sound just like the original ones did, and not some cringey different voices. The original cast would be proud.
HOOK HAS A WIG! HES BALD! I can't find a pic of it but there's a part where tink is trying tot get hooks key and we can see her go under his wig and expose his bald head briefly.
The second movie features two songs by Jonathan Brooke that i absolutely love and they make me cry:
Peter Pan was Michael Jackson's fav Disney movies (for those few that dont know that already)
I really believe I myself have Peter pan syndrome...or just a touch of it...or more than just a touch...lol
Guess that's all for now, byyyyyyee!
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i-have-zero-chill · 3 years
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I wrote a little willex oneshot. Hope you’re all in the mood for some fluff. 
           “Don’t worry hot dog, you got this.” Willie was holding onto Alex, who was going very slowly down the sidewalk on his skateboard.
           “I appreciate your confidence in me, but this is a terrible idea and I’m definitely gonna get myself killed.”
           Willie laughed, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed, bro.” Alex let go of Willie to try to get his own balance, teetering precariously before immediately grabbing his hands again. Willie wasn’t complaining.
           “You know what I mean! Besides, if a ghost ever managed to get themselves re-killed, it would definitely be me.”
           “Yeah, you got me there.” Willie let go again, and this time Alex didn’t fall over. “See, you don’t even need me anymore,” he said proudly.
           Alex was pleasantly surprised. “Huh. I guess this isn’t so bad.” He nodded his head with a smug expression, feeling more confident– probably a little too confident. “Yeah, I got this.” To anyone else he would have looked pretty ridiculous standing so stiffly on the board. Luckily no one else could see them because of the whole being ghosts thing, and Willie just found it adorable. Alex was so satisfied with himself in the moment that he didn’t notice he was starting to gain some speed, and it occurred to him that they hadn’t gotten to the stopping part of the lesson yet. He turned his head and realized Willie was quite a ways behind him now. “Willie!” he yelled, “YOU NEVER TAUGHT ME HOW TO STOP!”
           “Oh crap.” Willie realized running to catch up was useless at this point, so he just materialized in front of Alex. Unfortunately he didn’t gauge the distance properly, so this resulted in Alex slamming into him, knocking them both directly into a large pile of leaves.
           Once Alex got his bearings he realized he was directly on top of Willie. His brain (did he technically even have one of those anymore?) short-circuited with how close their faces were. Willie just stared up at him, almost daring him to do something. Alex thought about how easy it would be to kiss him right then. If he were a braver person, that’s exactly what he would have done. But, he was, well, him, so he just scrambled off of Willie before he could embarrass himself further. He could have sworn Willie looked disappointed for a split second. But the moment passed. Alex cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um. Sorry.”
           Willie sat up and raised his eyebrows in amusement. “It’s cool. I did run you over when we met so I guess we’re even now.” They were sitting face to face now, and Willie had a bunch of leaves in his hair. Alex thought it might be the cutest thing he’d ever seen.
           He giggled. ‘Dude, you’ve got some­––” he gestured to his head.
           “What?”
           “Um, here.” he started picking the leaves out, and Willie went uncharacteristically quiet, cheeks turning slightly pink.  Alex got the last leaf and instinctively tucked a loose strand of hair behind Willie’s ear. He started to pull his hand away, but Willie grabbed it and intertwined their fingers. Alex’s breath (or whatever he had now) caught in his throat and they just stared at each other for what felt like forever. It was at that moment that Alex decided to be brave, because it felt like the universe was telling him to go for it, and frankly Willie was just too beautiful not to kiss right now. Willie must have been thinking the same thing, because he leaned in when Alex did and they met in the middle. Alex wasn’t sure what he expected from a ghost kiss, but it was so much better than he ever could have imagined. Willie felt so solid and real and warm, for a moment Alex forgot they were both dead. They were just two boys kissing in a pile of leaves. Eventually Willie pulled away, smiling so radiantly Alex could have died all over again.
           “Took you long enough, hot dog.”
           Alex shoved him playfully. “Hey! It’s not my fault I died before I could figure out how to flirt with cute boys properly!”
           “Aw, you think I’m cute?”
           “Man, just shut up and kiss me again.”
           “You got it.”
           They sat in the leaves, just kissing and talking, and kissing some more, until the sun went down. And for the first time since he died, Alex felt totally at peace. He didn’t care about why he was there, or what would happen after this. He had the band, and he had Willie. That was enough.
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wrongwiredmind · 3 years
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Got busy browsing some tags in Ao3, you know? The usual, anyway, neglected selecting a fandom, liked a summary that didn't have any "names" so I opened the fanfic while still ignorant to whatever show or movie or book or anime or literally anything that has fanfiction, long story short,
I got sucked into the Teen Wolf fandom!!!!
A little late, right?
However, I didn't just get stuck in a fandom i didn't want to enter, I also found myself embarking on a ship that is bound to sink as all other non-canon but perfect OTP do, can you guess whom am I talking about??
That's right!! Sterek!!!
So, after reading and reading and adopting a new pair of poor unfortunate souls, I thought that I owe it to them to see the show and see them in action, it also didn't help that I really needed to know some canonical facts to read some of the fics, of course that never stopped me before (I knew future events in every fandom I became part of before I reached that stage in the show, i.e. I know about the pool floating incident and the FBI rescue and many of characters and a lot of other things before I even started the show, and I'm still in s1e8, all of that is thanks to Ao3 and Tumblr, aren't they wonderful??)
And I already don't like Scott! I don't like the character that really makes bad choices and always expect to be forgiven or not handle the responsibility, if you want to be the hero of your story you need to understand that you should trust your friends and family of choice, and  they could trust you too!!
As Harvey Specter said "loyalty is a two-way street. If I'm asking for it from you, then you're getting it from me" and that doesn't end with the fact that they might be sure you won't kill them, if they can even trust that!! That is just common decency!! Caring about your crush/girlfriend is good, but never is neglecting your friends!!
And yes, I adopted Mieczyslaw “Stiles” Stilinski!
And I can't help but feel that Scott is really really verbally abusive, I mean, skip whatever non-Canon thing or obliviousness I read, what he says to Stiles and Derek on different occasions is absolutely wrong, not to mention blaming all those deaths on a supposedly dead man!
All Derek ever said or did was that he wanted to help Scott, and even if, as the audience, we didn't know that, he saw and heard and feels his emotions, so I think he definitely isn't right to accuse the guy for every problem you find! And Stiles does nothing but try and help and McCall just pushes and hurts and pushes again, I'm pulling my hair out, man! If those what friends are like, who needs enemies!!???!?!!! (after I wrote this, I actually remembered that it's actually a saying, not an invention of my brain, though I definitely agree with the OP)
And I'm not even talking about how he talks with his his mom, I'm not familiar with how teenage boys act much, because my older brother was certainly different than the stereotype, but that is never how you talk to your mother! (I'm almost 22, so I don't think I'm too old to not understand or to forget how teenagers act around their parents)
Anyway, that's not here nor there, it's not the point of this post at least, watching the series was really... Interesting, but they really make a lot of long make-out scenes between Allison and Scott, and I swear Allison deserves better!!! (again with you Mccall!!!).
Though that unfortunately means that after almost every episode I had to take a break and read some fanfic to calm down since things  weren't moving fast enough. (I need more Stiles screen time!!)
Nevertheless, even though every otp I ever had is beautiful and awesome, since I'm currently so engrossed in this fandom, I wanted to say that this pairing has something special, and I'm not even sure what, call it "my spider-senses are tingling" or whatever, and while perusing through Tumblr for recommendations, someone was mentioning some fics for Steter (I didn't even see Peter in action yet, but don't you think he's more than a little old for my baby?) and then found some Sterek recommendations, all that was running through my head was "this is soothing my soul"
And I think that this is enough for me, if I wasn't sure before that I loved the pairing, this thought proved to me that they already stole a piece of my heart and added another strand to my soul.
I always feel pain when a strong emotion resonates inside me, especially while reading, but reading fanfics about them is almost a constant pulse of pain that won't leave till either the fic ended or I closed the app, I almost wear a constant wince while reading because of it instead of the occasional one.
And that's the beginning of my descend along this ship, greetings to all the other passengers, and you have my condolences because of that cannon canon that always takes the most beautiful and solid ships down.
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eyelinerda3euro · 3 years
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The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction
In the temperate and tropical regions where it appears that hominids evolved into human beings, the principal food of the species was vegetable. Sixty-five to eighty percent of what human beings ate in those regions in Paleolithic, Neolithic, and prehistoric times was gathered; only in the extreme Arctic was meat the staple food. The mammoth hunters spectacularly occupy the cave wall and the mind, but what we actually did to stay alive and fat was gather seeds, roots, sprouts, shoots, leaves, nuts, berries, fruits, and grains, adding bugs and mollusks and netting or snaring birds, fish, rats, rabbits, and other tuskless small fry to up the protein. And we didn’t even work hard at it — much less hard than peasants slaving in somebody else’s field after agriculture was invented, much less hard than paid workers since civilization was invented. The average prehistoric person could make a nice living in about a fifteen-hour work week.
Fifteen hours a week for subsistence leaves a lot of time for other things. So much time that maybe the restless ones who didn’t have a baby around to enliven their life, or skill in making or cooking or singing, or very interesting thoughts to think, decided to slope off and hunt mammoths. The skillful hunters would come staggering back with a load of meat, a lot of ivory, and a story. It wasn’t the meat that made the difference. It was the story.
It is hard to tell a really gripping tale of how I wrestled a wild-oat seed from its husk, and then another, and then another, and then another, and then another, and then I scratched my gnat bites, and Ool said something funny, and we went to the creek and got a drink and watched newts for a while, and then I found another patch of oats.... No, it does not compare, it cannot compete with how I thrust my spear deep into the titanic hairy flank while Oob, impaled on one huge sweeping tusk, writhed screaming, and blood sprouted everywhere in crimson torrents, and Boob was crushed to jelly when the mammoth fell on him as I shot my unerring arrow straight through eye to brain.
That story not only has Action, it has a Hero. Heroes are powerful. Before you know it, the men and women in the wild-oat patch and their kids and the skills of makers and the thoughts of the thoughtful and the songs of the singers are all part of it, have all been pressed into service in the tale of the Hero. But it isn’t their story. It’s his.
When she was planning the book that ended up as Three Guineas, Virginia Woolf wrote a heading in her notebook, “Glossary”; she had thought of reinventing English according to her new plan, in order to tell a different story. One of the entries in this glossary is heroism, defined as “botulism.” And hero, in Woolf’s dictionary, is “bottle.” The hero as bottle, a stringent reevaluation. I now propose the bottle as hero.
Not just the bottle of gin or wine, but bottle in its older sense of container in general, a thing that holds something else.
If you haven’t got something to put it in, food will escape you — even something as uncombative and unresourceful as an oat. You put as many as you can into your stomach while they are handy, that being the primary container; but what about tomorrow morning when you wake up and it’s cold and raining and wouldn’t it be good to have just a few handfuls of oats to chew on and give little Oom to make her shut up, but how do you get more than one stomachful and one handful home? So you get up and go to the damned soggy oat patch in the rain, and wouldn’t it be a good thing if you had something to put Baby Oo Oo in so that you could pick the oats with both hands? A leaf a gourd shell a net a bag a sling a sack a bottle a pot a box a container. A holder. A recipient.
The first cultural device was probably a recipient.... Many theorizers feel that the earliest cultural inventions must have been a container to hold gathered products and some kind of sling or net carrier.
So says Elizabeth Fisher in Women’s Creation (McGraw-Hill, 1975). But no, this cannot be. Where is that wonderful, big, long, hard thing, a bone, I believe, that the Ape Man first bashed somebody in the movie and then, grunting with ecstasy at having achieved the first proper murder, flung up into the sky, and whirling there it became a space ship thrusting its way into the cosmos to fertilize it and produce at the end of the movie a lovely fetus, a boy of course, drifting around the Milky Way without (oddly enough) any womb, any matrix at all? I don’t know. I don’t even care. I’m not telling that story. We’ve heard it, we’ve all heard about all the sticks and spears and swords, the things to bash and poke and hit with, the long, hard things, but we have not heard about the thing to put things in, the container for the thing contained. That is a new story. That is news.
And yet old. Before — once you think about it, surely long before — the weapon, a late, luxurious, superfluous tool; long before the useful knife and ax; right along with the indispensable whacker, grinder, and digger — for what’s the use of digging up a lot of potatoes if you have nothing to lug the ones you can’t eat home in — with or before the tool that forces energy outward, we made the tool that brings energy home. It makes sense to me. I am an adherent of what Fisher calls the Carrier Bag Theory of human evolution.
This theory not only explains large areas of theoretical obscurity and avoids large areas of theoretical nonsense (inhabited largely by tigers, foxes, and other highly territorial mammals); it also grounds me, personally, in human culture in a way I never felt grounded before. So long as culture was explained as originating from and elaborating upon the use of long, hard objects for sticking, bashing, and killing, I never thought that I had, or wanted, any particular share in it. (“What Freud mistook for her lack of civilization is woman’s lack of loyalty to civilization,” Lillian Smith observed.) The society, the civilization they were talking about, these theoreticians, was evidently theirs; they owned it, they liked it; they were human, fully human, bashing, sticking, thrusting, killing. Wanting to be human too, I sought for evidence that I was; but if that’s what it took, to make a weapon and kill with it, then evidently I was either extremely defective as a human being, or not human at all.
That’s right, they said. What you are is a woman. Possibly not human at all, certainly defective. Now be quiet while we go on telling the Story of the Ascent of Man the Hero.
Go on, say I, wandering off towards the wild oats, with Oo Oo in the sling and little Oom carrying the basket. You just go on telling how the mammoth fell on Boob and how Cain fell on Abel and how the bomb fell on Nagasaki and how the burning jelly fell on the villagers and how the missiles will fall on the Evil Empire, and all the other steps in the Ascent of Man.
If it is a human thing to do to put something you want, because it’s useful, edible, or beautiful, into a bag, or a basket, or a bit of rolled bark or leaf, or a net woven of your own hair, or what have you, and then take it home with you, home being another, larger kind of pouch or bag, a container for people, and then later on you take it out and eat it or share it or store it up for winter in a solider container or put it in the medicine bundle or the shrine or the museum, the holy place, the area that contains what is sacred, and then next day you probably do much the same again — if to do that is human, if that’s what it takes, then I am a human being after all. Fully, freely, gladly, for the first time.
Not, let it be said at once, an unaggressive or uncombative human being. I am an aging, angry woman laying mightily about me with my handbag, fighting hoodlums off. However I don’t, nor does anybody else, consider myself heroic for doing so. It’s just one of those damned things you have to do in order to be able to go on gathering wild oats and telling stories.
It is the story that makes the difference. It is the story that hid my humanity from me, the story the mammoth hunters told about bashing, thrusting, raping, killing, about the Hero. The wonderful, poisonous story of Botulism. The killer story.
It sometimes seems that the story is approaching its end. Lest there be no more telling of stories at all, some of us out here in the wild oats, amid the alien corn, think we’d better start telling another one, which maybe people can go on with when the old one’s finished. Maybe. The trouble is, we’ve all let ourselves become part of the killer story, and so we may get finished along with it. Hence it is with a certain feeling of urgency that I seek the nature, subject, words of the other story, the untold one, the life story.
It’s unfamiliar, it doesn’t come easily, thoughtlessly, to the lips as the killer story does; but still, “untold” was an exaggeration. People have been telling the life story for ages, in all sorts of words and ways. Myths of creation and transformation, trickster stories, folktales, jokes, novels....
The novel is a fundamentally unheroic kind of story. Of course the Hero has frequently taken it over, that being his imperial nature and uncontrollable impulse, to take everything over and run it while making stern decrees and laws to control his uncontrollable impulse to kill it. So the Hero has decreed through his mouthpieces the Lawgivers, first, that the proper shape of the narrative is that of the arrow or spear, starting here and going straight there and THOK! hitting its mark (which drops dead); second, that the central concern of narrative, including the novel, is conflict; and third, that the story isn’t any good if he isn’t in it.
I differ with all of this. I would go so far as to say that the natural, proper, fitting shape of the novel might be that of a sack, a bag. A book holds words. Words hold things. They bear meanings. A novel is a medicine bundle, holding things in a particular, powerful relation to one another and to us.
One relationship among elements in the novel may well be that of conflict, but the reduction of narrative to conflict is absurd. (I have read a how-to-write manual that said, “A story should be seen as a battle,” and went on about strategies, attacks, victory, etc.) Conflict, competition, stress, struggle, etc., within the narrative conceived as carrier bag/belly/box/house/medicine bundle, may be seen as necessary elements of a whole which itself cannot be characterized either as conflict or as harmony, since its purpose is neither resolution nor stasis but continuing process.
Finally, it’s clear that the Hero does not look well in this bag. He needs a stage or a pedestal or a pinnacle. You put him in a bag and he looks like a rabbit, like a potato.
That is why I like novels: instead of heroes they have people in them.
So, when I came to write science-fiction novels, I came lugging this great heavy sack of stuff, my carrier bag full of wimps and klutzes, and tiny grains of things smaller than a mustard seed, and intricately woven nets which when laboriously unknotted are seen to contain one blue pebble, an imperturbably functioning chronometer telling the time on another world, and a mouse’s skull; full of beginnings without ends, of initiations, of losses, of transformations and translations, and far more tricks than conflicts, far fewer triumphs than snares and delusions; full of space ships that get stuck, missions that fail, and people who don’t understand. I said it was hard to make a gripping tale of how we wrested the wild oats from their husks, I didn’t say it was impossible. Who ever said writing a novel was easy?
If science fiction is the mythology of modern technology, then its myth is tragic. “Technology,” or “modern science” (using the words as they are usually used, in an unexamined shorthand standing for the “hard” sciences and high technology founded upon continuous economic growth), is a heroic undertaking, Herculean, Promethean, conceived as triumph, hence ultimately as tragedy. The fiction embodying this myth will be, and has been, triumphant (Man conquers earth, space, aliens, death, the future, etc.) and tragic (apocalypse, holocaust, then or now).
If, however, one avoids the linear, progressive, Time’s-(killing)-arrow mode of the Techno-Heroic, and redefines technology and science as primarily cultural carrier bag rather than weapon of domination, one pleasant side effect is that science fiction can be seen as a far less rigid, narrow field, not necessarily Promethean or apocalyptic at all, and in fact less a mythological genre than a realistic one.
It is a strange realism, but it is a strange reality.
Science fiction properly conceived, like all serious fiction, however funny, is a way of trying to describe what is in fact going on, what people actually do and feel, how people relate to everything else in this vast stack, this belly of the universe, this womb of things to be and tomb of things that were, this unending story. In it, as in all fiction, there is room enough to keep even Man where he belongs, in his place in the scheme of things; there is time enough to gather plenty of wild oats and sow them too, and sing to little Oom, and listen to Ool’s joke, and watch newts, and still the story isn’t over. Still there are seeds to be gathered, and room in the bag of stars. by Ursula K. Le Guin
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sea-owl · 3 years
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Let me start off saying that do not take this seriously. This was an idea running rampant in my brain and wouldn't leave me alone.
So an AU where Sakura has some past lives too because Kishimoto did her dirty too many times and he could have at least given her this since the three man band was pushed on us so much along with the brothers idea. I mean it wouldn't be that hard either like Naruto and Sasuke are the sun and moon? Okay Sakura can be the stars or earth that helps balance/makes peace between the boys/brothers. One detail I liked imagining is that these past lives of Sakura's got killed the same way, by Naruto and Sasuke's past lives, and then shit that was already bad goes worse because now their peacekeeper is gone. I will go into this later.
I also imagine that her past lives were the wives or companions of Indra and Madara that's why she's so full of love for Sasuke. Yes all her past lives have pink hair that is non negotiable.
I've seen people use Shachi for Indra's wife's name and I've kinda adopted that, and I always called Madara's wife Haruka.
Shachi was a family friend in her youth that would come and go because her clan traveled during that periord. They were some sort of travelling medicine men basically. Indra developed a big ol crush on her, while Ashura, who was younger looked up to Shachi like a big sister. Years later after Indra leaves he finds Shachi again, he ends up teaching her how to use chakra she's pretty good at it, a fast learner. They get married and have kids. This is definitely Sakura's more loving, and kind side as the way Shachi was raised. Though that isn't to say Shachi couldn't be petty or passive aggressive. Shachi also gave birth to the start of the Uchiha clan and maybe Haruno if we're feeling spicy. Shachi always thought the brothers could rekindle if they just talked, she knew both of them and Indra never fully explained to her what happened that he left. Shachi tries to bring them together again, they fight, and end up killing Shachi as she tries to stop them.
Now onto Madara's and Hashirama's lives. Haruka was born to a clan that was more neutral in the wars, hell we can make it Haruno too to make things easier. She was a trained fighter, but she was more defensive. She was very knowledgeable in herbs like Shachi. This is kind of how she met Madara and Hashirama. They got hurt and she was passing by. She healed them both and refused to let them fight in front of her. Haruka was more stubborn and quick tempered than Shachi but that's ok because she had Madara and Hashirama's bullshit to deal with. As the boys were creating the leaf village she was there to help keep tempers in check and make sure things were realistic. Somehow during those talks Madara convinces Haruka to marry him. When tensions started rising up between the two again Haruka was there trying to get them to see the other's point o view, and to tell Tobirama to shut it when he got on her nerves. Haruka was heartbroken when Madara left and furious when he returned. She confronts him at the valley of the end with Hashirama. She ends up killed in that battle.
By the time Sakura is born Shachi and Haruka's names are long gone. There might be a small myth about then among the Uchiha but that's it.
Shachi and Haruka aren't just silent observer's over Sakura's life, they actually are more like those old gossiping aunties who Sakura can hear in her head all the time and sometimes can see if she focuses enough. Sakura who has had Inner since a child just fucking rolls with it.
Shachi and Haruka sees the reincarnations of their boys in Sasuke and Naruto immediately but they let Sakura navigate those relationships by herself with a comment or two from them. They are estatic when Sakura decides to become a medic ninja, taking their herb knowledge further. They never tell Sakura about how they died, it would be cruel of them to tell the young girl she will be killed by those closest to her.
When the rooftop fight happens and Sakura rushes forward Shachi and Haruka are terrified because they know this is it. This is the moment Sakura is to die by her boys' hands. They're horrified, she's too young they were both grown adults when they died.
They let out a sob of relief when Kakashi appears, saving their newest reincarnation. They begin to hope that maybe this life will be different.
Skip forward to the war and Haruka is pissed. Like ready to take to take over Sakura's body just to fight her husband herself pissed.
"I want a divorce!" Sakura can hear Haruka shout.
Shachi shakes her head in disappointed mom. "Don't look at me they get it from Indra."
When Naruto and Sasuke find out about their past lives Shachi and Haruka make themselves known. They show themselves after the boys battle. It's the first time they are seen by anyone that isn't Sakura.
"That damn bastard, wait till I get my hands on him in the after life." Haruka rants. "I wanted one of us to kill him! I can't believe some creep took that away!"
"Who is she talking about?" Naruto whispered to Sakura.
"Madara, her husband," Sakura answeres.
"Husband?!" Naruto exclaimed.
"Yeah I'm still unsure how that happened."
Shachi is pulling on Sasuke's ear still in disappointed mom mode. "If you ever put my reincarnation in a genjutsu like that again I will personally beat your ass little descendant. Your clan started in my womb, you will put respect on my name and to my reincarnation."
Sasuke can only grunt. Still confused by the whole thing.
In their adult lives Shachi and Haruka pop by for visits, but their working it out with their own boys, and falling back into their roles as their peacekeepers. They coo over baby Sadara, and still act like gossip aunties. They ship Boruto and Sadara, and make bets with Sakura on when they get together. Naruto and Sasuke just call them Sakura's realtives for when their talking to others about them.
Shachi is also trying to straighten out the whole Uchiha clan in the after life, no descendants of her's are gonna act out. She don't care if they're already dead, and who they gonna complain to, Indra? She's got hom whipped after so many years apart. Haruka gave hell to her husband for many years. Hashirama was on thin ice with her, but she had Mito to help with that.
Again don't take this seriously. This just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it out.
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reaperlight · 3 years
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Venom - Ryuk / Eddie - Light?
I guess its the same as the previous ask, huh? *facepalm*
Well I wrote for it a few months ago but never got around to posting it but always meant to go back and edit but, ahhhh I'm sorry!
Here is the mostly unedited brain vomit from November 2020:
I'm sorry, I guess I don't understand the ask.
Were you asking me to compare the characters, compare the ships or shipping them all together?
I guess I'll just ramble for a bit about my two main hyperfixations...
I've long seen parallels between Light Yagami and Eddie Brock, especially comics!Eddie in terms of the flavor of their characters, their moral codes and character flaws (arrogance, conniving, opportunistic), power from monster partner, and (for comics!eddie) their relations to their narrative foils.
Also I see parallels between comics Eddie and Mello but I feel that's more terms of aesthetic/superficial. Blonde, catholic, like leather, motorcycles, chocolate and revenge. But I digress...
Comics Eddie and Venom initially during the original villain run I believe was meant to be a kind of narrative foil for Peter Parker, a kind of what if Peter went evil, Spiderman with murder.
And Light's character also reminds me a lot of Peter Parker, especially in the beginning of the series--both in character design and the lying, sneaking, hacking, and ha-ha I'm so clever... but instead of like leaping off buildings his secret is murder.
Light and comics!Eddie are both obsessed with their narrative foils/nemesis/equal and-opposite but for different reasons and with different outcomes.
L-Embarrassed Light and threatened to have him caught and killed him.
Develop a "friendship" to try and murder each other. Kills L and later regrets it, or at the very least seems sad he's no longer around.
Spiderman-embarrassed Eddie while he was already having the worst day of his life, getting him fired AND he hurt Venom. Tries to kill Spiderman but doesn't succeed but they think they did for a while and are happy about it. There's no angst because from their perspective they had rid the world of an evil, the man that hurt them both.
When they think they succeed at killing Spiderman, the man who hurt them, that everyone lauds as a hero is dead.. Eddie and Venom are  just happily living on an island together, deciding to stay together even though the revenge that brought them together was over and just living, free of burden of hating Spiderman knowing he got his revenge... then spidey shows up alive and that's the end if that.
Later after Spiderman saves Anne, Eddie realizes he wasn't the evil he thought he was. So they move away, and tries to let it go of their obsession, even though Spiderman hurt them (and continues to do so), focusing on themselves instead and protecting a homeless community.
Of course its easier to try to seek redemption when you're bulletproof.
Venom's character has changed and grown since the initial villain days, (well depending on the writer) and the Venom symbiote has become a character with autonomy and not just a costume/plot device/metaphor for drug addiction--again Venom stories can be very different depending on the writer. Being a long-time fan my perceptions of Venom are shaped by comic canon but for the most part we'll focus here on Eddie and Venom as a loving couple.
In a way Movie!Venom feels like a fanfic version, a soft boy!Eddie, but in a good way--it's fun. Eddie gets to learn and grow from his mistakes and the movie ends with Eddie and Venom as a hero...
A hero who eats people--a situation that cannot be sustained. Much like wanting to solve all the world's problems with a murder notebook--barring some comic book miracle this can only end badly.
First impulse upon encountering a problem is kill it.
But this manifests in different ways.
If you've pissed off...
Light- he will find your name and your death will be carefully planned down to the minute.
Venom-Your death will be immediate, swift, and messy.
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Even though I use the venom movie as a basis for headcanons here. I feel we can pick and choose from the often contradictory comic canon (the way these characters are written varies wildly depending on the author) which canon parts we like.
Comic!Eddie is more like Light than movie!Eddie in their character flaws.
Conniving, opportunistic...
They have a similar moral code.
Black and white morality
In the comics they have another thing in common-a nemesis to obsess over.
In philosophy...
Kill the guilty, save the innocent.
Comic!Eddie develops a God/messiah complex at one point though it's a temporary thing.
Movie!eddie is just he starting on his venom journey but has notably less compunction than comic!eddie about eating people.
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Eddie and Light
I'm not shipping them romantically in my current found family au Stray. But I could see the potential there to ship--Venom has scores of different canons to pick and choose from, not just the movie. So you could have an au with College!Eddie meeting college!Light so they are closer in age.
How Light and Eddie would interact depends entirely on how they meet. For instance in the comics Venom is ride or die with friends who are also "protectors of the innocent" like Morbius the living vampire. But has animosity with the Punisher who also has a very similar outlook on life. It all depends on how they meet whether they are allies or they might try to destroy each other.
Kira
In canon Kira sees himself as a God beyond reproach and anyone else doing what he does as a murderer deserving of death. He might be allies for a time with other killers like Misa and Mikami but ultimately sees them as scum and will kill them the moment they are no longer useful.
Of course this is fanfiction and canon has no power here.
Canon was dark enough, so if I want Light to grow as a person, make friends and be happy, he will--canon be damned, lol.
Eddie = writing nerd
Peter = science nerd
Light and L = total nerds
Ryuk likes soap operas, sitcoms
Venom likes medical dramas
Ryuk and Venom = soft goth monsterboys or NBs who love snacks, tv, and one (1) justice-driven human.
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Tropes VenomxEddie Symbrock/veddie and Ryght/Terraito/Deathgods have in common
Beauty and the beast-- "but I would never call you beast." You've got you're ruthless human and cinnamon roll monster that just wants snacks and cuddles
Living in close proximity
Secret boyfriend/partner
Vigilante justice
Deep voice
Sharp teeth
Long tongue
Alien biology
Optional body alteration
Optional--tension with rival/Narrative foil
Angst tropes-- the threat of being imprisoned, institutionalized, or subjected to unethical experiments
Daddy issues
Praise kink
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