#maybe find Passive someone deep in the labyrinth of the dream

[wr-n]

I want Nightmare to have dreams.

Not normal dreams of nonsensical story or memories resurfacing.

I want him to live a second life in his dreams where the shadows are filled with mechanical clicking, beasts lurk in every room, monsters disguised as loved ones.

And Nightmare has to survive them every time he goes to sleep.

Maybe Nightmare starts losing his handle over his powers and accidentally drags Cross and Horror into himself - into his dreams.

And now they have to survive and look for Nightmare to get out.

[anothershadeofpurple]

I know that SQ at this point is a dead thing with no hopes of happening now but at what point do we suddenly flock to this new lgbt character/relationship A&E are trying to sell us. I understand representation is important and scarce but to kiss a$$ to these two guys who treated our fandom like crap and have no regrets over the last 6 years "cause who remembers?" (a la Eddy) is upsetting to me. I feel like it's a betrayal to SQ to accept this. It gives them thought that we only wanted any f/f

Hey Anon!

Is this a general comment in response to things you read or is it because I tweeted Adam about how the announcement of the inclusion of an LGBTQ character had the opposite effect of normalizing? 

I can - obviously - see why people think it’s not going to happen, but I am still pretty sure that it will if they get to tell their story, which influences the way I communicate about it. It all makes sense if you look at their world building as Emma’s mental space - the how might be unpredictable, but it’s pretty clear they set up Regina and Henry to be Emma’s fairy tale happy ending and her story isn’t actually over yet.

The first openly queer characters were Ruby & Dorothy. Ruby is the wolf and the wolf guides the way as I talked about here. So if you look at Emma’s mind as that of a repressed lesbian - the product of religion and unaccepting society - then suddenly the queer subtext being everywhere just below the surface makes a lot of sense. Ruby symbolized a desire that would no longer be repressed - the first breakthrough if you will.

“The Ruby Slippers are a deep dream symbol, representing both Dorothy’s means of getting around in Oz and her identity, her unassailable integrity. The shoes are a reassuring Mentor’s gift, the knowledge that you are a unique being with a core that cannot be shaken by outside events. They are like Ariadne’s Thread in the story of Theseus and the Minotaur, a connection with a positive, loving anima that gets you through the darkest of labyrinths.”From: The Writer’s Journey - Christopher Vogler

That brings me to the spoilers of a new LGBTQ character - my money is on Alice. I’ve written about this new book telling the story from the perspective of consciousness - check here, here and here. From the spoilers it’s my guess many of these new characters will be playing out aspects of Emma’s life before we met her. Many females of different ages are added and we’re going to an urban setting in our world. She’s remembering who she is. Whatever this character’s storyline is, it’s the next step in Emma’s process of breaking through repression and being honest about who she loves. It will still be fantastical, it’s still a fairy tale setting, but my guess is it will give us more clues about Emma’s past that are a little closer to how things actually happened than the hints we’ve gotten so far.

Now I want to talk about what you’re saying, about people selling out. The fandom has done every conceivable thing to get the showrunners’ and the media’s attention over the years. There’s been anger and attempts at diplomatic conversation. There have been twitter trends and media articles. Nothing really came of it. If anyone involved doesn’t know the importance of Emma, Regina & Henry versus any other LGBTQ couple by now, then they’re never going to know because they do not want to know. Not to mention they know what they have written and produced. They know exactly what they have been doing, what they have been suggesting with these characters.

Now I see a mentality of placing blame on each other for how fandom has been treated or how the storyline has evolved. “If only we had done this differently we would have had different results. We would have gotten what we wanted.” It’s a defense mechanism in order to not feel powerless. Look for somebody closer to you. Somebody who you can blame so you don’t feel out of control. So you feel you can get some form of justice by punishing someone. The reality is that the blame lies with:

An inherently homophobic society

A conservative media culture

Heterosexual writers writing queer characters based on research but not from life experience

Old school PR principles

…

If you accept blame lies with a marginalized group or individuals within it and how they react to their unfair treatment - even if people are doing the opposite of what you think is productive - you are losing sight of the real issues and the real causes. The truth is that you are angry with other people who are reacting to an unfair situation they are also a victim of. We have to recognize that in some ways we simply are powerless before we can figure out what power we do have. 

What to do?

Anger is fuel, it’s energy. Treasure it, but try to direct it. Within the disadvantaged group, find the people who feel the same about this issue as you do. Maybe it’s only one person, maybe it’s five people, maybe you can find a bigger group. Vent with them. Talk out the frustrations with them to take the edge off. Publicly talk about what frustrates you and why, but avoid being passive aggressive and placing blame. Backgrounds of people online and what they seek here are incredibly diverse. Ages, levels of education, how far they are in the self-acceptance and coming out process, financial backgrounds, ethnicities, temperaments, levels of involvement, … Always be aware you are lacking a lot of information about the people you are interacting with - some of which you would have in real life. People are more receptive when they’re not under attack and many here feel vulnerable - whether they seem like they do or not. You may be right about something, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be understood. Pick your battles, focus on being understood first. 

Now with your group of people - or even if it’s just you - decide what you can do with what you have. Get informed. Read books on activism. Find the right words. Decide what the right course of action is for you. Identify the power structures you are fighting. Think big. Think about the next time around, think about changing things for future generations. Consider supporting the opposite of what you are fighting. There are a million ways to make a change. Find something that works with your personality, your means, your level of comfort, your talents. Find something that is safe for you to do depending on your situation - and if you are risking your safety, make it a conscious choice, something that comes from within and not from outside pressures.

I’m under the impression that in emancipatory struggles of minorities there are always roughly two groups. Generally, there will be a group labeled as “radical”. I would say that these people are actually more right about how things should be. They will rally, point out the flaws in the system. They are often considered aggressive, but they’re obviously not, they’re just very aware of the unfairness and point out the differences between them and the privileged group.

The other group is a group who is more focused on building bridges and being diplomatic. They try not to rock the boat and aim for smaller changes. What you bring up - “selling out” - is often a complaint heard from the more radical group when talking about the moderate group, while the moderate group is worried about the boat rocking too hard and there being repercussions and setbacks to the progress if we push too hard and too fast.

In reality it’s often those two groups taking opposite action - but doing in the same moment in time - that creates change. We need people to loudly call attention to issues, we need people to gently explain the issues when people are called to attention. Some people need to be kicked into action, others need a gentle hand guiding them. The power comes from these different approaches. While we need to keep each other in check - especially when it comes to intersectionality, because yes, in those cases diplomacy often crosses over into selling out - seeing things this way helps me personally recenter. Take a step back, look at the bigger picture and never forget who and what you are actually fighting. Make sure that’s where you direct your energy. Be communicative within your own group, but don’t get completely side-tracked interacting with people who do things differently but who ultimately share your cause. 

Odds are someone needs to hear what they have to say in the way they say it. Odds are somebody needs to hear what you have to say in the way you have to say it too. Just don’t lose sight of the real causes of your discomfort.

[theshatteredrose]

Hello, I wanted to say I love your writing so so much and feel so blessed to have found it. I was wondering if I could bother you and request a Simmons/Rahas with Rahas being "nice" to Simmons because of their connection to Shiki? It's such an intriguing plot line

AN: Sorry it took me so long to get this written! I have a few excuses, but their all generic. And there was no way I could say no to such a polite anon! Thank you for the kind words! I hope you’ll enjoy reading!

Title: Being Nice

It was late at night, probably around midnight, when Rahas made his way back to his room. He decided to go through the door this time; he couldn’t be bothered heading for the window. It was getting colder at night anyway, and Lirit was starting to resent the window being left open. Lirit wouldn’t outright say anything to him, as he was polite, but he may accidentally mention it to someone else, who would then mention it to Lynus, who would then chide him for keeping the window open and increasing the possibility of catching a cold.

His mothering had gotten worse, if that was at all possible.

Pushing open the door to his room, he was unsurprised to find Lirit sitting up in bed, also awake. He had his covers pooled at his waist, though, which meant he had been sleeping at one point. The nosy troubadour probably heard him coming up the stairs anyway. His hearing was a little too potent.

“You’re back,” Lirit said for the sole purpose of interrupting the silence.

“Yeah,” Rahas replied simply as he kicked off his boots and began to ready himself for bed.

Lirit watched him for a moment before unexpectedly commenting; “You’ve been hanging around with Simmons a lot these past few days.”

Rahas winced defensively. “Yeah, so?”

“Not being negative or anything like that,” Lirit passively replied. “I’m just curious.”

Nosy, was more like it. “Whatever,” Rahas said dismissively with a sharp shrug of his shoulder.

Lirit, however, wasn’t going to let his short, sharp answers deter him from his interrogation. “It’s good that you’re getting along.”

Rahas shrugged again as he pulled off his coat and slipped on a shirt he uses to sleep in. He couldn’t stop a frown and a wince of guilt from appearing on his face, so he promptly turned his back toward Lirit. “If you can call it that.”

Lirit unexpectedly sighed loudly and there was a rustling noise, as if he was folding back the blankets to that he could sit on the edge of his bed. “…What have the two of you being doing?”

“Nothing,” Rahas muttered as he pulled back the blankets on his bed and slipped beneath them.

“You must be doing something.”

“Training.”

“Is that all?” Lirit sounded disappointed. “You two should so something nicer together.”

Rahas rolled his eyes as he flopped onto his side, his back toward Lirit once more. “No.”

“Don’t be like that,” Lirit said, and Rahas could just hear the frown in his voice.

Rahas felt agitated as he rolled onto his back and pushed himself up onto his hands as he looked over at Lirit. “Look, I don’t do ‘nice’, ok?” he said.

Surprisingly, Lirit seemed to squint at him in disbelief before he sighed in a manner that was a little too close to the maternal sighs of disapproval Lynus would unwittingly emit.

“Yeah, ok,” Lirit said, almost in a patronizing manner. “Maybe you could ease into it? Get him something small. Cheap if you want to. Just throw it at his face and walk off. Besides, this is Simmons we’re talking about. He’ll readily accept anything you give him.”

That could work actually…

But he wasn’t ready for having this kind of conversation with anyone. Especially when they were pushing him into a more…romantic pairing with the landsknecht.

“Go to sleep, Lirit,” Rahas said as he flopped back onto his bed and onto his side once more. As he pulled the blankets up over his shoulder, he decided to add a final touch to their late night conversation. “And if you tell Macerio about this conversation, you will find yourself the bed mate to several hedgehogs. Is that clear?”

“V-very.”

… … … … …

As he glanced down at the small, fluffy, bunny-shaped plushie in his hand, Rahas could hardly believe what he had done.

He had actually taken what Lirit said last night into consideration. And he had actually went through with the first part and bought something with the intention of giving it to that blue-haired landsknecht.

He had yet to do so as of yet. And he was honestly debating if he should. If Macerio was to found out, he’d never hear the end of it. Of course, he could counter with something about Lirit, which would quickly shut that gunner up.

It…wouldn’t exactly hurt giving the plushie to Simmons, would it? If it got out, Rahas could just pin the blame on Lynus telling him to do something nice for Simmons for a change. After all, Simmons had given Rahas a tonne of gifts. He was just being polite.

Still, he was going to make sure to give it to Simmons when there was no one else around. Not even his guildmates. Oh sure, Gerald wouldn’t care and Kerri would probably approve. But listening to Tiffany wail about Simmons getting more gifts than she was something he didn’t want to risk his hearing listening to.

After a bit of stalking around the streets and not finding the blue-haired landsknecht anywhere, Rahas assumed that he was out in his usual training spot on the outskirts of town, away from the entrance of the labyrinth to ensure that no one else would stumble across him and interrupt.

…Ok, time to get it over with. Throwing it at him and leave. Yeah. That’ll work.

“Oi, Simmons! Merry birthday or something!” Rahas yelled as he threw the plushie at the unsuspecting landsknecht.

“Eh?” Simmons managed to mutter as he paused in his training, only to have the plushie smack him right in the middle of his face. His head reeled back slightly, more from the surprise than by the force, and his hand immediately flew up toward his face. As the plushie fell, he managed to catch it with his hand and he immediately stared at it with wide eyes.

“What’s this?” Simmons asked as he quirked his head to the side in question.

“Nothing,” Rahas immediately refuted, as was his natural habit, before wincing slightly as he reminded himself that he was tying this ‘nice’ thing that everyone was harping on him about. “A good luck charm or something.”

“Is it yours?” Simmons unexpectedly questioned as he finally looked over at him, confusion etching its way onto his face.

Rahas folded his arms over his chest. “No, it’s yours.”

Simmons blinked at him, his confusion not lifting for a moment. “I don’t remember having this.”

“No, it’s yours now.”

“Huh? But you had it.”

“Yes, that’s because I was giving it to you.”

“To me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Rahas bristled in an almost violent manner. “Because I’m a nice guy!”

Finally, Simmons nodded his head in acceptance. “Ah, ok,” he said as he glanced back down at the plushie.

…And he just accepted that excuse?

Rahas ran a hand over his face. He should have known throwing the gift at the guy and leaving was not a fucking option. Simmons would have likely tracked him down and handed it back to him. In front of someone. Either Macerio, Hamza, or Lynus. All three, most likely. With his luck.

Turning his attention back to Simmons, a terse ‘later’ on the tip of his tongue, he unexpectedly paused. Simmons was gazing down at his new lucky charm with a…soft expression on his face. A small smile on his lips, his eyes half-lidded, his expression surprisingly calm and…wistful.

It caught him off guard.

“What?” he asked as he took a half step forward.

Simmons snapped his head up to look over at him, his expression half that of surprise that he was still there and sheepish that he had been caught in thought. “I think…I had something like this when I was a kid,” he muttered.

That caught Rahas’ attention and he unintentionally took another step forward. “You think?”

Simmons shrugged but didn’t answer. He glanced up at Rahas for a moment before turning his gaze back down to the rabbit-like toy in his hands. As he did so, a slight breeze picked up and Rahas noticed something he hadn’t before. Just under Simmons’ hairline, on the left side of his head was a long, jagged but white line. A scar that had been healed years ago. Healed enough to make it as unnoticeable as possible. But it was still there. The scar was still visible, if one was looking.

And since there was a scar…that meant the wound was deep and possible life threatening.

“That scar,” Rahas said as he motioned toward Simmons forehead with his hand, though ensuring that he didn’t physically touch the other. “Where did you get that?”

Again, Simmons shrugged vaguely. “Dunno,” he answered, though he knew exactly what scar he was talking about.

Rahas furrowed his brow, somewhat annoyed with the short answers he was getting. He also couldn’t help but feel that it was somehow…attached to that ‘thing’ he was trying to become stronger than. That ‘thing’ where he would hear a noise that would make his head hurt and essentially black out without memory.

That thing.

Surprisingly, Simmons sighed loudly and sat down on the ground, his legs stretched out in front of him as he cradled the plush bunny toy with his two hands. “My earliest memory was waking up in hospital with my head wrapped in bandages. I don’t remember much before that. Just some strange dreams.”

Rahas was genuinely surprised by Simmons admission and found himself dropping to sit on the ground near him. He immediately wanted to know more, but he held himself back. It was…none of his business, truthfully. But if Simmons was willing to talk…

“What kind of dreams?” Rahas asked.

Simmons kept his focus on his gift, idly pulling at an ear or picking up an arm to make it appear as if the toy was waving its paw. “I can hear my mom yelling at me to run. To hide.”

That…

He…Simmons didn’t really think it was a dream. Rahas could tell. The look on Simmons’ face; the slight down-turning of his lips, the faraway look in his eyes. Someone must have told him it was a side effect to the head injury or something. Something he didn’t immediately believe but felt to be logical in a way.

B-but what about his father? What about…Shiki? Did he remember him?

N-no, he wasn’t ready for that yet. Not yet.

“…How old were you?” Rahas asked quietly instead.

“Twelve,” Simmons replied, still looking at his gift. “My parents went missing before that. That’s what they told me. I don’t…really remember much of my parents. Just a few things. Cass and Gerald told me more about them after I got out of the hospital.”

Gerald? Was that the reason he was-?

“Hey, Rahas?” Simmons suddenly said as he abruptly turned to look at him. “What about your parents?”

Rahas grimaced internally and externally. He should have figured that question would come up one day. He…couldn’t tell him the truth. Not yet.

“They’re both…gone. When I was a kid,” he answered, carefully choosing his words.

He wanted to say that they were dead in every meaning of the word, but for some reason didn’t want to actually say that word in front of Simmons. Not after learning that he believed that his parents were simply missing. Though there was a possibility that Simmons also felt that they were no longer living, saying the word out loud gave the impression that it was true.

Sometimes…it was better to let someone cling to a small bit of hope.

Besides, answering that they were dead was likely to prompt further questions about them, and Rahas honestly only had a few answers himself.

“Do you remember them?” Simmons went on to ask.

Only one of them, unfortunately. “No,” Rahas said instead.

Simmons gave him a small, sad smile. One that held a sense of understanding to it. “You’re like me, then.”

“Yeah,” Rahas murmured. “Seems so.”

But unlike his own, Simmons’ past was accessible. Gerald and Cass knew. Hell, Hamza probably did, too. The truth of Rahas past was likely to stay hidden to everyone, including himself. And that was fine with him. However, he could learn more about Simmons past, of which seemed to still be haunting and hurting him.

And it seemed a lot more intriguing then he had anticipated. In fact, the landsknecht himself was proving to be a lot more interesting as well.

Rahas was pulled from his thoughts when Simmons suddenly took to his feet. He spent a moment attaching the bunny lucky charm to his belt before looking down at Rahas with a hopeful expression. “Want to train with me?”

Surprisingly, Rahas didn’t find himself hesitating in answering. “Sure.”

The smile on Simmons’ facing was practically beaming.