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#astoundingly both these things can happen
famousprophetstars · 1 year
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i keep seeing the take that "Katniss doesn't love Peeta she's just trauma bonded to him" it's making me lose my mind.
First of all, all the superior TikTok and Twitter psychologists aren't even using that term correctly. A trauma bond implies an abuser using the trauma as leverage. Neither Katniss or Peeta are abusive and you can't even make an argument about that so automatically this idea is untrue.
but more importantly- what's wrong with, outside of the abusive context, using trauma as a bond? Why does that mean that they can't love each other? This idea is so ridiculous. Peeta understand best (more than Haymitch and the other victors) what Katniss is going through. Very few people can provide emotional support to her. She has severe PTSD and the most powerful man in the entire country is attempting to plot her assassination because she's been made the face of a rebellion, in an act of defiance Peeta was also present for. Peeta, already astoundingly sympathetic to her (and others), is able to fully empathize with her. They have a shared past and have an experience that nobody else in the entire history of the games has ever had. Like are you saying Katniss feels strongly towards him because he understands and can relate to her? literally what is unhealthy or weird about that? It would be one thing if Peeta was abusive but he's not. In his normal state, he has never used the games or the shared bond they have against her and his basically only used it to help her, as well as himself.
like the basic implication is that people who have similar trauma don't actually love each other, which is just so astoundingly untrue it's really hard to even wrap my head around the idea. and if the idea is that Katniss and Peeta never would have been together if they hadn't been reaped (or she hadn't volunteered) is also not very smart, because it quite literally doesn't matter. These are the events that happen in the book and the alter Peeta and Katniss' understanding of both one another and the world at large. 2 hunger games and a rebellion is bound to fundamentally change a person in some way.
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dumplingsjinson · 6 months
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List of random dialogue prompts (pt. 2)
“If you felt want and longing the way I did — the way I still do — I promise you’d be driven fucking mad.”
“I wanted the thrill of the chase more than I wanted you.” 
“You really couldn’t have been any more obvious.” “That’s because I didn’t have anything to hide. I was being obvious, because I needed you to know, without a doubt, that I love you.” 
“This is literally the worst moment for me to be saying this but considering how we could die at any second, I need to get this off my chest before I become buried six feet under, without a chance to say any of this to you: I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids. I’ve loved you every second of my life; from the moment when I knew what loving someone really meant.” 
“I kinda knew I lost all feelings for you when I realised I didn’t want to communicate with you about the problems that were happening between us. I became complaisant.” 
“Loving you is as easy as overthinking everything.” 
“It’s… easy with you. Nice. I don’t have to be someone else to impress you, because I know you love me for me.”
“There are parts of me I’d never thought I’d show to anyone else, but then… You came along, and for some reason, you made me want to be honest with you; bare my soul to you.”
“So what in the hell are we? I’m not doing this unless we’re on the same page.” 
“Please don’t tell me we’re nothing to you… That I mean nothing after everything’s that happened.”
“You’re my emotional support human, and I love you so, so much.”
“If you ever need me, I’ll be right here. Just as I’ve always been.” 
“I’d let you break my heart, if it means I’d get to have you for even a day.” 
“You make me feel like dancing in the pouring rain wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” 
“You’re astoundingly unhealthy for me, but do I care? No, because I wouldn’t have fallen if I cared, especially when I’m someone who’s usually so careful with whom I give my heart to.”
“…I didn’t drunk call you. It wasn’t a drunk call. I called you, perfectly sober.” 
“You’re someone I want to tell things to.”
“What’s more important to me is that I’m your last love.” 
“This… This hurts me more than it hurts you.”
“Falling in love wasn’t on the agenda.” “Do you mean falling in love with me out of all people wasn’t on the agenda?”
“I don’t know, I guess I’m kind of in love?”
“…I want all of you. On top, under, whatever — I don’t care, I just want you.”
“Maybe I can help you forget about them.”
“It’s easier to pretend I’m still in love with them, than leave them in that state.” “You know you basically lying to them about your feelings is gonna hurt them more in the long run, right?” 
“Why does it have to be them? Why can’t it be me?”
“I’ll give you two seconds to take that back.” 
“You gotta work for it, love.” 
“We can pretend that didn’t happen.” “I’m sorry, but I’m not as good of an actor as you are.”
“I don’t know how to… I’ve never done this before.” “Then follow my lead, okay?”
“I’m someone who falls in love easily, but I’m also someone who can’t get over someone as easily.”
“I want to make this work, because I don’t— I don’t want to— I can’t lose you.” 
“You make me want to be a better version of myself.”
“I don’t wanna mess this up with you.” “You won’t. I promise, you won’t, so just… Do whatever. I trust you.”  
“Why are you smiling at your phone?” “…I was looking at the mail app, and uh… Received some good news?”
“Because love isn’t linear. You know that, right?”
“I’m not doing this for you — I’m doing this for myself.” 
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be that person for you.”
“I’m here to stay. At least until you want me gone, which I hope is never.” 
“Chasing you is like chasing the rainbow… It’s impossible. You’re always slipping away no matter how fast I run after you.”
“Don’t give me that it’s not you, it’s me bullcrap. It’s us both. We’re both at fault for this relationship breakdown.” 
“God, I just like you so, so much.” 
“I think I need to get over you for me to feel better again.” 
“You and your stupid smile… Stop that.” 
“I just need you in me somehow, please—”
“I really hope you realised they were flirting with you.” “…They were?”
“I’ve caught feelings for you, and I know you don’t like me back that way so I just… Wanted to tell you, before I decide to let you go.”
“I’ll be here to pick up the broken pieces if that’s what you want me to do, but I’ll leave if you’re not ready for that… For something more with me.” 
“I love you, but I… I don’t think I see a future with you.” 
“Give me a week. A week, and I’ll be back to normal. A week, and I’ll… I’ll be over you. Just a week and you’ll have the old me back. It’s that easy, I promise.”
“I kinda wanna give myself a concussion so I can forget about you and not think about you twenty-four-seven.” 
(pt. 1) | (pt. 3)
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rad-roche · 9 days
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Pulp Covers And How To Paint Them
With the rise of cheap printing in the early twentieth century, mass-marked paperbacks swept the world, each offering lurid thrills for obscenely low prices. Sex, sadism, and incredible violence for as little as ten cents. An easy purchase to slot in between fifty cigarettes a day and enough bourbon slugs to kill a small garden.
Pulp fiction is where some of the greats of American literature cut their teeth, including the big three, Raymond Chandler, Ross MacDonald and Dashiell Hammett. The contents of these stories, both the dizzyingly good and astoundingly terrible, have been absorbed and digested and remixed and regurgitated in nearly every permutation imaginable, fuelling pop culture some one hundred years on. This isn't an essay on that. Nobody likes to open a tutorial and be greeted with a wall of text. The history is for another time.
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But it is about how to paint it.
Don't let the pre-amble intimidate you, it's not as hard as it sounds. You will need:
Painting software with some image editing capabilities. You don't need all the bells and whistles of Photoshop, but I wouldn't recommend something like MSPaint, at least not to start with. I'm using Clip Studio Paint.
A really beat-up paper texture. The grungier, the better.
A lightly-textured brush. Here are the specific brushes I use, 99% of which is the well-named rough brush. Try and avoid anything with any impasto elements.
Go to your colour-picking tool and use the 'select from layer' option. Doing all the painting on a single layer is going to make your life easier.
A complete willingness to make mistakes and, instead of erasing, painting over them. It generates much more colour variation and interest! Keep your finger off the E key.
Good reference! That painting is a master copy of Mitchel Hooks' art for Day of the Ram. Find a style you really love and want to learn? Have no clue where to begin? Do direct studies!
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Let's not worry about whatever is happening in the background. It's probably fine. Let's get started! Pulp magazine art is a lot more varied than you might first think, so don't agonize over having a style that 'fits' or not. I'm also specifically aiming for something you'd see on the cover after printing, not the initial painting they would use for printing. The stuff I'll show here is a pretty narrow band of it, but here are some general commonalities. This is a painting by Tom Lovell.
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Let's dig into this.
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The colours are very bright and saturated, but the actual values, the relative lightness and darkness of them, are actually grouped very simply! You can check this by filling a layer full of black, putting it on top and setting its mode to colour. If the value of a painting looks good, you actually get a lot of leeway with colour. But here's what I think is the most important thing to keep in mind.
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The darks aren't that dark, and the lights aren't all that light! Covers are paintings reproduced on cheap paper. Anything you wouldn't want to happen in the printing process, you lean into. Value wash-outs, lower contrast, colours getting a weird wash to them, really gritty texturing. So let's get painting! Here's my typical setup.
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That bottom folder is the painting itself. The screen layer is the grungy paper texture. To get the effect you want, put it down, invert its colour, then set it to screen. That washes out your painting far, far too much, so to compensate, I put a contrast layer up on top. Fiddle around with the settings, but this is where mine ended up sitting.
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Note I'm saying this before even starting the painting: you want to do this as early as possible. This is where the 'select from layer' colour picker comes in handy. You can paint without worrying about the screen or contrast layer. Something not looking right? Enable your value check layer and keep painting. When you turn it off, it'll still be in colour. Here's a timelapse so you can see what that looks like.
And when you check the values...
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They're pretty simple! This isn't a be all and end all, but I hope it serves as a decent primer. I want thirty dames on my desk by Monday!
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whyyougottadothatbro · 9 months
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and these stars, are nothing but your cousins...
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Genre: fluffy little scenario I wrote cause I miss him so much and I hope he's doing as well as he can
Bf! Bangchan x female! Reader, established relationship
Song recommendation: 🎶
a/n: I've been unhealthily obsessed with this song for a good over 8 months and listened to it mostly while writing this fic, 10/10 would recommend
Wc: 1.5k ~, probably proofread?
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“chann~~~” y/n lets out in her sing-songy voice as she calls out to her lover who’s legs are sprawled upon her thighs as she gently massages his feet, rigorous weeks of performances and endless hours of dance practice making his flatfeet hurt to the point that just walking seemed like it would require all the remaining strength in his body. The feeling of his lover’s tiny hands that he adores so much, especially when they are entrapped in his own, feel so relieving against the soles of his feet he sighs in relief and almost misses her calling out to him, but he refrains himself from losing focus.
His focus shifts back to where he was massaging the back of his lover’s neck and her shoulders, releasing the knots she’s gotten from her desk job. Chan relaxes against the bed’s headboard with y/n sat between his legs, massaging the feet that landed on top of her thighs when chan wrapped his legs around her waist. They both relish in the touch of the other, silent grunts leaving them as their tangle of limbs begin to limp slowly yet surely, but chan breaks out of his trance, remembering to answer back from behind her with a hum of acknowledgment urging her to continue. 
“I was thinking~” y/n’s voice hasn’t lost its tone from earlier when she is suddenly interrupted by her boyfriend who’s ministrations stop temporarily as his hands drop down to her waist to pull her flush against him as he poses a question before she can continue,
“are you just thinking or are you thinking~ ?” chan lays emphasis on the last word. He’s repeating it in the exact same tone as hers from earlier and some sub-conscious part in the back of her head feels astonished over his musical talent in the most mundane of situations. She shifts her focus back to the situation at hand as she chuckles, turning her head back to look up at him in amusement, ‘what is that even supposed to mean?’ 
“well..” chan elongates the last syllable, ‘when you’re just thinking, its everyday stuff usually, you’re thinking about when to do the next grocery run, you could be thinking about going back to pilates, what you want to order for our next takeout night, you could be thinking of a purchase you need to make, a gift you want to buy, a call you need to make, electricity bills you know just everything normal, everyday stuff..” chan’s voice trails off as he detaches your hands from his feet and brings them into his, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand in silent appreciation for you.
“and what happens when I’m thinking?” y/n asks him, still a bit amazed about how her boyfriend had different interpretations of her saying the same thing, just with a slight change of tone.
‘when you’re thinking~” chan hasn’t let go of the exact same tone from before as he continues, “it can mean anything from a new hair color you want either of us to try or booking the both of us an impromptu trip to Hawaii without any money in your pocket. Its basically a wild card.”
The evening sun casts its pink-orange glow onto the couple wrapped up in each other’s arms, y/n finding her lover astoundingly beautiful under the hues cascading through their large windows. Her hands move up to his face, thumbs gently tracing his jaw, eyes not focused at anything in particular but still looking at what she believed to be the sum of all the love that the universe had planned to give her, packed and summed up into the man whose warm hold feels like her personal shield. y/n believes that even though the both of them have lives filled with people that carry so much love and joy in their hearts, its in the hearts of each other that they were made to find solace in. If soulmates existed and love was true, the light freckles under her lover’s eyes wrote love on his face in a language only they both could understand, a language that lived as long as they did, and would vanish into the void silently, peacefully with them. 
“you’re zoning out on me again, pretty” chan’s soft reprimand brings her out of her trance. She shakes her head a little bit, as if physically shaking herself out of the floaty comforting headspace chan’s presence puts her in often. ‘want to tell me what you were thinking~ about, now?’
‘well you’re going to Japan next month, right?’ y/n asks, coming down slowly still,
‘I do, I wish I could take you along though’ chan’s words drift off into a small pout towards the end, pressing a kiss to his lover’s forehead. Parting from her made him sad and pouty to no end, but chan was quick to learn that y/n would always kiss his pouts away as a rule, almost. But it wasn’t chan if he admitted to using it against her to get more kisses, it was his own secret.
‘coming back to earlier, so, I was thinking~ what if…’ y/n trails off again, slowly noticing chan’s patience wearing off and watching him grow more agitated and it gave her the time of her life. y/n had a general struggle of keeping conversations quick and to the point, but maybe she did use it against chan because watching him grow agitated and whiny was amusing to no end, it was her own secret.
‘what if we get you a bigger carrier, your old one’s a bit wobbly no?’ y/n asks in all seriousness face now resting on his shoulder, and chan chuckles again, 
‘is that what you were thinking all this while? And this one’s okay baby I don’t think I need a bigger one?’ chan has no idea again as to where y/n could be going with this but he goes along.
‘no because you see.. if we, if we get you a bigger carrier, maybe its going to make it easier to..’
‘to what, baby girl?’ chan asks again, voice softer, cooing at her almost
‘well its going to make it easier to carry all our stuff at one place because I might have got Changbin and Minho to convince your staff to bring me along and maybe let us stay for 2 more days after because its our anniversary?’ y/n says all that in a single breath and huffs out, eyes expectant and waiting for a response as nervousness pools in them. 
‘no way..’ chan whispers to y/n, not wanting to say it too loud in case it was a dream and it would all go away if he was too careless talking about it. Chan’s still not believing it, even after y/n enthusiastically nodding at him, kissing his full lips again to make him believe that she was indeed coming along with him. He slaps himself mentally, both to wake himself up and also for not thinking about it earlier. Mischief pokes its head around chan’s brain again, because how did she come up with it before he could.
“and.. what if I said no? what would you do then? It is dangerous to do it, you know it too princess” her face falls almost entirely at his words and chan’s heart hurts seeing her reaction, but he’s perplexed when her face lights up again,
‘then I’ll just, I’ll just sit in your carrier, because there’s no way I pulled the amount of strings I did to just not do it.’ Chan splutters with laughter again, chest vibrating and body shaking at the memory of his dog doing the same to him every time he has to come back from home in Australia, and the visual of his girlfriend sitting with her legs folded in his carrier, doe eyes looking up at him with silent pleas, refuses to leave his head as he laughs more, squeezing her harder in his arms.
‘oh so you’re learning from berry now?’ chan asks as he wipes tears away from the corner of his eyes, stomach hurting from laughing that hard. y/n’s seriousness almost throws him in a laughing fit again but he refrains, a chuckle escaping him every now and then, awaiting an answer.
‘I can’t deny she has good tricks up her paws’ chan finally lets his second laughing fit escape him, wheezing at her words all over again.
‘you know what else berry is good at?’ chan asks as he slowly recovers, mischief now completely coming out to the forefront of his brain,
‘what is it?’
‘kisses, berry gives me sooo many kisses, you’ve barely given me any you know?’ chan pouts in fake annoyance again, crossed fingers hopeful that he gets what he wants,
‘oh you’re in for it bahng’ y/n says as she pushes him down onto the bed with her hands firm on his shoulder. She lies flat on top of him, aggressively kissing the entire expanse of his face. 'Finally' Chris thinks to himself, hands holding y/n down on top of him, pillowy lips against her, as evening faded into the night from their bedroom window, thankful to the stars twinkling outside, probably smiling down at them too. 
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a/n pt. 2 : i hope you guys enjoy this, i know I'm not the most consistently posting writer on here but I really appreciate the support I get on my posts. Thankyou so much!
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ssahopelessly · 1 year
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Broken Mirror
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Synopsis: A few weeks after he is released from prison, Spencer’s insecurities rise to the surface, causing a fight. The fight pushes the reader to go to Luke’s house, where he suddenly finds himself playing couples counselor.
Warnings: couples fighting, suggestions of cheating, mention of Cat Adams and what happened in Mexico, self sabotage of a relationship, miscommunication
Word Count: 2.5k
Masterlist
“I’m sorry I can’t be him.” Spencer mumbled under his breath.
“Be WHO Spencer?” Unintentionally, I had snapped at him. I didn’t want to. It was the last thing he deserved. But the fight was getting old before it even started. Too preoccupied by my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed how he ran his hands through his hair before looking back over at me.
“Him! Luke Alvez!” A laugh escaped through his lips.
“What?” The idea was preposterous. I moved closer back into our living area to look at him, but his eyes told me he had convinced himself that Alvez was who I wanted to be with.
“If you’re so unhappy with me, maybe you should go be with him.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Blinded by jealousy or rage did not matter, he was making no sense in any capacity.
“Garcia told me! Told me how close you were while I was in prison (Y/N)! How he was always at your side, always your shoulder to cry on. How when you missed me the most, he was there to comfort you? We’re fucking profilers (Y/N), do you think I’m dumb?” Spencer was not textbook dumb, by no measure could you test and prove he was unintelligent. But in this moment, he was astoundingly and remarkably dumb. And I was enraged. His feelings were pouring out, accusing me of such malicious acts and intent, I couldn’t hold my tongue anymore.
“And JJ told me about Cat and her baby!”
“What?” His strong and loud conviction was soon broken into a soft whisper, as if this was something that would have remained between the three of them.
“How Cat Adams got you off in Mexico and while she is very much pregnant, you for a moment considered the child may be yours.”
“You have no business-“
“And you know what hurts the most Spence? Is that you and I both know you would take in the child.”
“Now that’s unfair.” He leaned back in his chair, breaking the stare down we had been caught in, taking a moment to glance over at the window. With his fingers curled into a fist by his mouth, I watched how his lips moved in a fashion to indicate he was very much biting away at the inside.
“Is it?” And just like that, he wouldn’t look at me. And I wouldn’t wait for him to. Finally getting my feet to move, I made my way towards our room, immediately searching for the go bag I had just been repacking for work.
“Where are you going?” It was a call from the doorway, his body now filling the space of the frame. I could feel his eyes on me but I couldn’t think or even spare a glance at him. My movements seemed to know what I was intent on doing before I figured it out.
“I’m doing what you said: I’m going to Luke’s.” Wiping a tear away from my skin, I walked towards the front door, only needing my car keys from where they lived, in the ceramic dish by the entrance of his apartment.
“You’re leaving me?” He continued to call after me, as if it were a challenge.
“You did this yourself!” Looking back over to him, I saw how eyes were confused before anything else. “Spencer, I am not going to stand here any longer if you are only intentionally driving a wedge between us. Shit, I want to be here with you. But I can’t bear witness to you destroying us before I can even have a say in it.”
“You said you would never leave me.” From his voice I could tell he wanted to sound angry but it registered more as hurt than anything else. It was almost enough to convince me to stay and repair our damage. Almost.
“And you said you would never break my heart.”
-
“(Y/N/N)? What are you-“ I tried to wipe my tears away before Luke had to look at me, but they never stopped. This is how Luke found me on his front doorstep, my hands tucked away in the too long sleeves of one of Spencer’s old sweaters and tears streaming down my face while I choked on my own sobs. “Oh my god.” He pulled me in for a hug before moving us back into his house, closing the door behind him. His hands moved from cradling my head to brushing my hair out of my face, letting my head rest in his hands as I tried to find my breathing. There was suddenly a cool breeze on my nose, notably coming from Luke. Giving him a puzzled look, he offered me a sheepish smile. “Uhm- Spencer told me one time when you introduce a new feeling to the nervous system, your brain stops in order to figure out what is happening.”
“Did he really?”
“Something along those lines. He just used more words.” I tried not to laugh but I did as I tried to wipe away my tears. “Do you want to tell me what is going on?” It was either tell him or maybe he would profile it out of me. But Luke didn't need to be heavily involved in the personal lives of his coworkers, and it was for that reason I wanted to withhold information. Spencer also deserved some privacy and confidentiality, and it was that reason I remained tight lipped on the former conversation.
-
“Hey man.” Luke tried to keep it casual but he already knew why Spencer would show up unannounced at this hour.
“Hey. Is (Y/N) here?” It was a whisper, his voice fragile as he felt his spirit more broken than he had first thought. Of all things, he felt like he lost the privilege to ask about her, to care about her.
“Yeah, she’s asleep.”
“Okay.” Spencer turned to leave, feeling like he hit a wall in what he should do next.
“Spencer. What happened?” Luke called after him.
“What?”
“Your girlfriend shows up on my doorstep crying and you don't show up until a few hours later. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine Luke.” As profilers, they promised not to profile one another, but when your coworker is not giving you the answers you want, your mind tends to start noticing things, like their body language. In this moment, Luke noticed Spencer hadn’t removed his hands from his pockets, indicating he was either hiding something or maybe anxious because of something. But Luke was also smart enough to know whatever was bothering the genius was deeper than the events of tonight, he could see the way Spencer carried his troubles in his facial features.
“Are you sure?”
“Excuse me?” Spencer’s tone was getting defensive, but that still told Luke there was something under the surface getting to him.
“You were in prison Reid, for a crime you didn’t commit. You’ve been through a trauma and I can see how much you want to slip back into a time before all of this but you can’t act like it didn’t happen.”
“I know that Alvez. Do you think I don’t know that? I just…” he stared off into the night, looking at how a streetlight only illuminated a few things around it. “You can’t tell her this.”
“I won’t.”
“There are moments when I close my eyes, and I think I’m still there. Or that any minute they’ll take me back. And in those moments, I know she deserves so much better. You all do. But I can’t bring myself to be who she needs anymore and I can’t break up with her because that will ruin her.” His voice started to break at the end, a tear or two welling in his eyes before Spencer took a breath in, trying to wipe the emotion away before Luke could take notice of it.
“So, you’re trying to make it easy for her to leave you? You’re pushing her away?” While Luke was trying to understand what Spencer wouldn’t say directly, he also hoped by saying it in that way Spencer would realise what it sounded like, what he wouldn’t confess to.
“I didn’t realise I was. But then when she left, I realised how much I still needed her.”
“Luke?” Her voice broke through the silence, echoing from inside his house. “Luke, who is it?” Spencer tried not to think of this as a parallel universe but he could see it so clearly. He could see them together, living happily with the other. But every second the thought existed in his mind, it pained his heart more as that was once the life he envisioned for the two of them.
“What do you want me to say?” Luke had asked, readjusting his posture. The words caught in Spencer’s mouth, conflicted over what his intentions should be at this hour.
“I want to talk to her.” It was a whisper, Spencer almost scared of her realising it’s him. “If she’ll let me.” Luke nodded before gently closing the door, leaving it resting against the frame instead of fully secured to. He waited on the front doorstep, rocking on his feet as he watched the street around him.
“She’s willing to talk.” It was as if a wave of relief had washed over him. “But Spencer. Be honest with her. Tell her what you just told me.” Nodding, he slipped through the threshold of the front door, noticing how Luke stepped out the front door. “I’m going to wait out here, give you two some time alone.” Nodding, he moved towards the living area, finding her sitting up on Luke’s couch, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. For a moment she didn't look at him, but by the time he sat across from her on the other couch, he noticed how puffy and red her eyes were, even after she just woke up from her nap.
“Hi.” She deserved more than that, an apology and an explanation, and Spencer knew that. But he didn't know where to start.
“Hi.” (Y/N) had whispered back, her voice scratchy and worn out. His heart panged at how much he had put her through.
“I- I want to say I’m sorry.”
“For?” She croaked out, bringing her feet closer to herself on the couch, hugging her arms around them, the blanket forming a full shield around her body.
“For how I’ve been acting.”
“Understatement Spencer.”
“I know.” Tears had started to form as he recalled every terrible thing he had said or thought since he was free again. “I love you. So much. It’s just at times- I would wonder if you still loved me, or if you still wanted to be with me.” He felt the wet trail start down his cheek, and he tried to wipe it away before she noticed but she did. She always noticed. “And I think part of my mind is still back there. And I think of who I became, of what I did, and I don’t want to bring that into this.” Her eyes softened as she watched him, his fingers picking at his skin on the other hand, his knee bouncing under him. “So for a moment, I thought the best way to protect you was to push you away. But I- I was wrong. And I’m so sorry. For everything.” He now noticed she had also started to cry. When his eyes met her, she immediately averted her attention to the side of the room, watching the world outside. “(Y/N)?” She bit her lip before lowering her face into her lap, letting out more tears. Spencer took the opportunity to move over next to her, to pull her body into his, running his hand over her back and then to smooth out her hair. Placing a kiss to her head, he rocked the two of them. A hand came out of the blanket as she clutched onto his shirt. They stayed like that for a few minutes before she stopped enough to speak.
“Next time you’re going to say ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I’m wrong’, can I at least have a warning so I can record it?” A laugh escaped his lips as he pulled her tighter to him, the scent of her shampoo wafting into his nose so he may remember this moment. “You have to talk to me Spencer.”
“I know.”
“Spence, I'm serious. And if not me, then someone. You can’t carry this on your own. I know you’re strongly independent but this is the one time where you can’t do it alone. Just promise me. If not me, then someone.”
“I promise.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, taking a moment to run his thumb against her cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Now let’s give Luke his house back, we have to be at work in 5 hours.” She patted his knee, Spencer instantly rising to his feet to offer his hands to her, so she may take them and he could help her stand back up on her feet. Wrapping the blanket into a bundle, she placed it where she was sitting, taking hold of Spencer’s hand as they walked back towards the front door. Opening the door though, they found Luke slumped over, leaning against a column as he sat on one of the steps down. Roxie was beside him, laying down but ears perked up as she was on alert from all the night life. Her head perked back to look at the reconciled couple, tail wagging when she saw (Y/N). Reaching his hand down to their friend, Spencer gently shook Luke’s shoulder, trying to wake him.
“Hey man, we’re leaving.” Luke shook his head before he turned around to look at his friends, his eyes immediately focusing on their hands holding the other.
“You can have your house back.” (Y/N) laughed, hearing a gentle pop as Luke pushed on his knees to stand up, stretching to crack something in his back.
“Finally. Listen, I love having you guys over but if this becomes a counseling spot, I should be getting paid.”
“Oh my gosh, go to sleep Alvez.” She shoved his shoulder as he stepped back up to be on the same level as them.
“I was asleep. Out here, yet you woke me.”
“Listen, if you want us to sleep here we will. We can take Roxie inside with us and bring you that blanket-“ Spencer motioned between him and (Y/N), squeezing her hand as she fought off the laugh that was rising to the surface.
“No, no, no- I want my bed.” He motioned for Roxie to go inside, which she did, happily continuing up the staircase. Taking one last glance at the couple, a smile spread over Luke’s lips at the sight of his friends so in love with the other. “You guys have a goodnight.” The door started to close, but (Y/N) had to taunt him with one last thing.
“See you in five hours!” Luke groaned from his spot on the other side of the door, the click of the deadbolt giving the couple a sense of relief as they descended the steps, finally heading home together.
Tell me what you think here!
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amethystina · 14 days
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Hi hi, I was drooling all over the tags of Who holds the devil again and I remembered to ask if the kidnapping will refer to Ga On? Or if it's a big spoiler then maybe you could please tell if we'll see protective Yo Han because you write his feelings so well I just can't get enough or over it, you're so talented.
I wouldn't call it a big spoiler, exactly, since I think most people can (correctly) guess that it refers to Ga On xD I mean, what kind of BL fanfic would this be if it was someone else? Gotta check all those dramatic romance boxes!
That said, I will repeat what I've said before, which is that it won't happen anytime soon and, if I were you, there are other tags I would be more worried about. But that's just me ;)
As for Yo Han being protective, that will feature quite heavily as a part of another plot thread long before the kidnapping tag comes into play. And I do mean protective as in full-on Abyss — with all the violence and ruthlessness that entails. To be honest, one of the scenes I look forward to writing the most right now is the culmination of that whole plotline. Partly because writing Yo Han when he's like that is so much fun, but also because Ga On will do what Ga On does best.
That's to say: Place himself in front of Yo Han and be the immovable object to slow down the unstoppable force.
And it will be delicious.
Because with all that Ga On has learned about Yo Han at that point, he's going to realise that the best way to calm Yo Han's desire for vengeance — and remind him of his humanity — isn't to get preachy or aggressive and demand he stop. It's to go soft and vulnerable and needy and a little desperate and just say:
"Please come back to me."
... I think we ALL know Yo Han won't stand a fucking chance.
So you've got that to look forward to, I guess ;)
And thank you so much! I have a lot of fun with Yo Han's emotions, not going to lie. He's got a pretty unique way of both showing and dealing with them and it's particularly interesting to try and convey that from an outside POV (Ga On's in this case). Because even if Ga On is correct in his observation the majority of the time, there are still times when he misses certain details. He often gives Yo Han the benefit of the doubt when he maybe shouldn't, for example x'D
Like, there are times in this story when Yo Han may seem kind, caring, and vulnerable but, in reality, something COMPLETELY different is happening inside his head.
Chapter 39 was actually a good example of that, specifically when Yo Han was pressing his thumb against the scar on his palm. Ga On automatically assumed that had to mean Yo Han was in pain, but that's not it at all. Not even close. Pressing the scar (which was first established in The Gentle Light, which I wrote over a year ago now) has become Yo Han's way of curbing his less-than-moral impulses when it comes to how he approaches his and Ga On's relationship.
Yo Han wasn't pressing the scar because it hurt (though he does have flashes of psychosomatic pain, too) but because he needed to remind himself not to do what he ACTUALLY wanted. Which certainly wasn't to resign himself to being rejected and go: "Then I won't."
In that moment, Yo Han wanted to claim and possess — not surrender.
And it was a struggle for him to choose the path he knew Ga On wanted him to.
In short, both Yo Han's protectiveness and possessiveness are sometimes hidden in the small things he does, which might not always be apparent to Ga On or the reader. Remember that Ga On is an unreliable narrator and while he is astoundingly good at reading Yo Han sometimes, not even he sees all.
And that, on the whole, Yo Han is a lot more vicious and immoral than Ga On wants to admit. It may not be as apparent now that Yo Han is without a revenge quest and more focused on doting on his family, but it's by no means gone. Just dormant.
The Abyss will never fully stop abyssing.
(Yes, I am definitely making this fic and the characterisation unnecessarily complex with breadcrumbs sprinkled across stuff I've written literal years ago — thank you for asking)
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About your last meta, since TV series Dream is going through his character development more rapidly(changing Gault into a dream, admitting he was wrong and apologizing to both Gault and Lucienne, saying that he will try to listen more) do you think he'll survive his tragic fate? I'm desperately hoping he does
honestly, i've almost written so many metas on this, and never ended up posting any, because the short answer is i just don't know
but if you want my evidence either way...
reasons the ending may change
everything is kinder in the tv show. the world it's working towards is just a better place. john not killing rosemary, unity and desire's relationship being consensual and meaningful, the changes in tone to sound of her wings, the fact that dream seems actually open to calliope's suggestion of reconnecting rather than just outright saying no, the corinthian actually taking care of jed rather than just stuffing him in the trunk of his car, i'm sure there's more i can't think of right now, but this adaptation is astoundingly accurate, most of the scenes are taken from the comics word for word. whenever a scene isn't lifted directly from the comics, i invariably find it's more hopeful than what was originally there
when neil was asked why john didn't kill rosemary, one of the things he said was that he didn't want comic fans to think they always know what's going to happen
as you mentioned, the entire gault plotline. dream's entire problem is that he doesn't believe he's capable of change. by making him realise that one of his nightmares is, that's certainly setting some kind of precedent! (and, while i'm not assuming neil won't pull a bait and switch here given the disparity between what lucifer's actually planning to do to dream and what it sounds like they are, "a new age" is certainly a Choice of line if you're planning on killing dream five years later)
rose and lyta. first off, rose is allowed to remember what happened to her, which immediately gives her a lot more agency over the plot. and she knows lyta a lot better, which means that lyta has a support system in the show that she did not have in the comics. if daniel goes missing, in the show, rose knows the entire story, and she's gonna take that straight to dream, if she can. i am sure the "if you have the power to destroy the world, then you have the power to destroy him!" "i don't want to destroy him" line is going to be relevant in the future
reasons it may not:
daniel's still a character. one way or another, i don't think morpheus is going to make it through this and remain dream of the endless
there's no changes made to desire and dream's last scene, where dream talks (in vague terms) about how that was a murder attempt desire just did, killing family will bring the kindly ones down on his head, like desire vowed to do way back when (and given one particular mason interview where they talked about looking forward to the audience understanding all the backstory behind that conversation, i believe this line is still foreshadowing, dream will still have to kill orpheus and lyta will harness the kindly ones against him)
i think the addition of matthew to the scenes in hell adds a lot to later comic scenes (see: this post for more on that)
tragedies are a specific form of storytelling with their own rules, they're not the same as "regular story, but you made the characters lose at the end". sandman, as a story, follows the rules of a tragedy. and as much as i would also like good things for dream, in order to tell this as a story with a happy ending, a lot would have to change right from the start. which, just personally, i don't really want it to, because a lot of the scenes i really like and find the most meaningful of this story would probably have to get cut or heavily modified to support that new story
and further on that, just from a writing perspective - in a story with a happy ending, tension is created by placing obstacles between the characters and what they want, things they have to surpass and fight for. in a tragedy, getting what the character wants has to be so easy, if they were anyone else in the story. tension is created through the fact that everyone involved can see the exit out of the tragedy, it's right there, but the qualities that fundamentally make the character who they are are the same qualities that keep them from acting.
the conflict in this story is undoubtedly between dream and himself. his need to abandon this burden that is far too heavy, vs his inability to take any action that runs counter to his duty. and it's made interesting by who he's placed in opposition to. what is the point of lucifer as a character, of destruction, if dream could listen to them? if watching someone change for the better could actually change him, then what's the rest of the story? he's already learned that from gault, you could cut it right here. and sure you could test that a few more times, but if we were writing a story about an immortal being who learns they're not beholden to their universe given duty, who has to overcome millenia of responsibility and feeling like they're not really a person in order to realise they're in control of their own life and can live how they choose - that's already lucifer's story. and destruction's. why aren't we writing about them, instead?
one of the big questions we ask in storywriting is why here, why now, why this person? and what makes dream unique is his utter unyielding dedication to the rules and to his responsibilities. and that means that, despite every other character in this story pointing out the glaring neon exit sign from the tragedy, he could never have done anything other than what he did
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and you could do it, don't get me wrong. if you wanted to write sandman as a story with a happy ending, you could take dream down a path of learning to be someone else, to change enough that he's no longer the character that gets grabbed by the tragedy (though it'll still be a tragedy for lyta). and if we were gonna do that, and do it well, season one has been a good setup for it. but that's a different story, that will require different challenges, ones that actually make him learn, rather than making the situation progressively worse with every challenge he ignores. and it really comes down to i don't know how much neil is willing to entirely rewrite his masterpiece like that
i think s2 will tell, one way or another, because season of mists is where the tragedy properly starts. as much as i ended up writing a longer thing under reasons why not, that's just because they were more complicated concepts to explain, i genuinely cannot predict what neil is gonna do here. every time i think about this i feel like my opinion falls on a different side. but like i said, whether you're aiming for tragedy or a happy ending, you have to sow those seeds early on, or it's gonna leave the audience feeling betrayed, no matter which you choose. preludes and doll's house, they're early enough and unconnected enough they could fall on either side. but i think season of mists is gonna make it evidently clear
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borderlinekarma · 1 year
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Sin and Virtue  (Lucifer x GN!Angel! Reader)
A/N: Lucifer is very OOC, it’s on purpose (felt like experimenting with his character) other characters kinda OOC. If anything’s wrong tell me. 
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“Simeon-” Huffing, you’re forced to listen to another one of Simeons lectures.
“You’ll never truly experience the devildom unless you at least try to speak to a demon, besides we already know the seven brothers. They won’t cause any problems. I trust them.” His arms crossed, and he looks exactly like Michael when he’s scolding you.
Giving in, you look down at Luke, who’s thrilled for dinner at the house of lamentation, “Fine, but I’m not guaranteeing anything.”
Solomon’s head pops up from the hallway. “You all done? They’ve almost finished making everything.”
Simeon’s hand brushes the door before it’s pulled open. Asmodeus stands in the doorway. “Come in! You should be excited. I made the desserts all myself! They look exactly like my face, too beautiful to eat now that I think about it...” His voice trails off into his own world.
Pushing the doors open to the dining room, Asmodeus shows you there are cards dictating where you sit. “Quickly find yours and we will start!”
Skipping off into the kitchen, you're all forced to look over the table, realising Luke and Simeon are together whilst they split Solomon and you up.
“Mc, who are you sat next to?” Simeon can’t help but question the seating arrangements.
Picking up the cards to your left and right, they read: Lucifer and Satan.
Mumbling to yourself, you place them back down. “You’re joking…” Looking up at Simeon, you answer, “Lucifer and Satan, what about you?”
“Leviathan,” Luke shows Simeon the card next to him, “and Luke is next to Beelzebub.”
Watching the others sit, you follow in suit, noticing the table has been set by Asmodeus from the astoundingly obnoxious amount of pink and flair.
After silently berating the tablecloths and other pink objects lying on the table, the brothers come out with trays and plates holding fresh foods, placing them in front of you all and swiftly sitting down. Beelzebub was a fountain of drool, quick to get into everything (you’re glad he’s not sitting next to you).
You listen in on the countless conversations happening all around you, refusing to join in on any and eating everything on your plate. You notice Simeon and Luke joining in, unintentionally staring at them: slightly jealous they can be so carefree.
Besides you, Lucifer, like you, is quiet and uninterested in the conversations. However, unlike you, he’s been interested in you. Watching your behaviour and how you react to things, seeing the disgust and displeasure on your face. Simeon had only told him bits and pieces of your story, but that alone caught his attention.
Noticing eyes on you, your head slightly turns, making you and Lucifer hold eye contact, with neither of you willing to look away. His reasons were interest, yours were to challenge his authority.
Michael created something powerful with you, something that could exterminate threats. He made you loathe demons, yet made you sinful: he knew challenging a demon without sin results in catastrophe. Pure childlike innocence and love are simple to corrupt and manipulated.
Someone clearing their throat makes you both look over at the noise. Simeon was nervously smiling at you. “Do you want dessert?”
Shaking your head, you stand, “No.” Passing the table, you barge through the doors into the main room.
Asmodeus is quick to complain, “Wait! But I worked so hard on them!”
Head in hand, you stare down at the floor whilst sitting on the couch in the living room, frustrated by the current situation. You didn’t want to be here, but you couldn’t leave without the others.
Footsteps go unheard until they’re directly in front of you. Wary your eyes promptly peer up, staring at the intrusion. Lucifer towers over you, looking down at you.
“If you truly want silence, my study is always available.” Lucifer slightly bends down, getting closer to you.
Despite the proximity, you don’t move. “Depends. Will you be there?” Narrowing your eyes at him, he smiles slightly.
“I have some work to do, but I won’t be a nuisance.” Standing back to his full height, he accompanies you to his study.
Dark wooden drawers and bookshelves lining the walls complement the wooden floors. His desk sits in the middle, facing away from the window, only dimly lit by the sparse lights.
Taking off his gloves and sitting down, he studies you. “I thought you wouldn’t have wanted me here. You’re not going soft, are you?”
“For you?” Venom spits from your mouth, “Not in a million years.”
“You are still here, Angel.” A sly smile appears on his face, awaiting your reaction.
Letting out a breath of vexation, you regain composure. “I followed you because you promised silence.”
Opening the drawers to his paperwork, he acknowledges you, “I never promised. I gave you a suggestion.” A pen scratching on paper stops you from formulating a response, leaving you silent, observing him.
After a few minutes, you notice him get out a group of files, seeing the little you can from your position you can only read out: Exchange students. Without noticing, you get closer, curious about what the files are about, especially if there’s one on you.
“Michael finds you difficult to accept, doesn’t he?” Lucifer’s sudden and hard-hitting question left you speechless, but his head is down, staring at the documents with your face plastered on them.
Confused at the sudden personal question, you answer harshly, “If he truly found me difficult, I’d be exactly like you.”
Putting the pen down, he rises, ambling towards you, “Wouldn’t that be a shame?”
His sacrilegious tone made your body tense, he backs you into a bookshelf. Some books fall from the impact. Despite being taught to deal with demons, you knew your limits, and Lucifer was beyond your strength.
“That’s truly surprising... usually angels like you would try to kill me,” his voice lowers as he whispers in your ears, “but you already know you can’t take me.”
Knock! Knock! You’re thankful someone’s interrupted as you watch Lucifer open the door. To your surprise, it’s Simeon looking for you. Asking for a minute, Lucifer closes the door, grabbing his gloves.
“We’ll continue next time, little lamb.”
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thatoneluckybee · 3 months
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inaccurately assigning the sbg kids marina songs
Yes, I KNOW these are NOT the actual meanings of the music, nor are they even that accurate. But I am being self indulgent here and you can't stop me (:
Ashlyn Banner
Solitaire: A major part of her character is learning how to balance her introverted nature with opening up to others. I like how she isn't shamed for being a private person, though, just encouraged to give others a chance, so I'm giving her the song about that.
Oh No!: Ashlyn is a very confident person as far as we've seen (though there are still some insecurities she has to work through) who isn't going to change her entire self for some random kid. Oh No! fits that kinda in that Ashlyn has flaws, but she is aware of them and she decides what's worth trying to change.
Aiden Clark:
Too Afraid: Aiden. Buddy. CHILD. He is incredibly extroverted, outgoing, social, and tends to take up the spotlight wherever he goes. This isn't a bad thing in its own light, however we've seen that it's largely become a coping mechanism for him. This kid's mind is or at the very least WAS in a very dark place before, and it's being repressed largely (at least, that's what it seems like.)
Primadonna: Like the exact same thing as above. Takes up the spotlight because the minute you stop off the stage, what's left?
Ben Clark:
I Am Not a Robot: Ben is a very stoic-seeming character. We've gotten to know him and he's a gentle, kind-hearted, nervous, and sweet person, albeit one with astoundingly destructive and angry tendencies. A bit part of his character, to me, has been seeing him balance not allowing his rage to run away with him but also not bottling up until it overflows. He is NOT a robot.
Valley of The Dolls: Yeah this song's about a book I've never read so uhhhhh ANYWAYS. Ben's past self was ANGRY. He was hurt and upset. No matter how many people he fought, or how much it hurt, he couldn't feel better, if anything at all. There was an emptiness he couldn't heal. Maybe it's still there. But he's healing.
Logan Fields:
Karma: I think this song could fit his relationship with his bully (Baron or Barron? Can't remember how to spell it), especially in the arcade fight scene (LOVED IT). Baron has been getting away with horrific acts simply because nobody knew, but now that it's come to light, now that Logan is stronger, now that he has people in his corner, karma's coming.
The Family Jewels: I'm concerned about Logan's home life, honestly. We don't know (as far as I'm aware) why he lives with his grandparents. Did something happen to his parents? Is he an orphan? Is he not with them for another reason? Also, what's going on with his grandparents? Is it because they're florists that they have access to painkillers and sedative type drugs, or another reason?
Taylor Hernández:
Orange Trees: I don't even know. I just really like the song. And I really like Taylor. And i think she would vibe to it. Taylor has a really fun personality and I think this fits her.
Can't Pin Me Down: On a more serious note, oftentimes Taylor (by both characters and the fandom, myself included) is unfortunately reduced to "aww happygolucky bestgirl!" Especially after Tyler's tragedy, we've gotten to see a new side of her: fierce loyalty and pure anger that stems from her kindness. She's going off the rails and I LOVE this for her, but I can only hope she doesn't lash at out the wrong people.
Tyler Hernández:
Are You Satisfied?: Giving him one of my ALL TIME favorite songs! Since the death of their father, Tyler has been caring for both his mother and sister and keeping the household afloat effectively. Through this, my dude doesn't seem to know what it means to take a break. He needs one.
Highly Emotional People: Furthermore on that note, I can see Taylor saying these lyrics to her twin brother. Tyler has gotten to used to being the caregiver at such a young age he doesn't seem sure how to be cared FOR. My dude is repressing and lashing out and everything in a very unhealthy way. If anything good comes out of the tree kebab, it's forcing him to accept outside help and let others take on some burdens. We're highly emotional people, and everyone deserves to show that.
Anyways I didn't expect this to take so long to type :^
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antianakin · 1 year
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Okay, feelings about Rex in the Darksider Ahsoka AU now, because wow is Rex having a lot of feelings about this.
If Rex meets up with Fulcrum Barriss and Reva at any point, he's going to find out about Anakin. If Obi-Wan opts to start doing more rebel work himself since Yoda's on Tatooine, Rex could end up running missions with Obi-Wan and figuring out what happened from Obi-Wan. Either way, he's not sitting on Seelos waxing poetic about Anakin to Ezra and Kanan the way he is in canon.
Because this Rex is someone who's been betrayed by BOTH of his assigned Jedi. This Rex has had both Jedi that he gave all of his loyalty to decide that he and his people weren't worth protecting. Both of Rex's Jedi that he put all of his trust in ultimately ended up using and discarding the clones for their own agenda. While he's going to have relationships with Barriss and Obi-Wan that are more positive, so he's not really anti-Jedi by any means, he's also going to be INCREDIBLY slow to trust himself in the care of another Jedi any time soon, he's not going to feel super comfortable "assigning" himself to a team where his life is in their hands if he doesn't have to.
And he probably still does retire himself off somewhere at some point, not wanting to fight and choosing to try to give Wolffe and Gregor the best life he can, until Barriss sends the Ghost team to try to bring him back in.
And oh man. Rex and Kanan's relationship in canon already gives me all the feels, it's such an astoundingly nuanced, subtle, and beautiful relationship as it grows over the seasons. Kanan has to EARN Rex's trust and loyalty, especially because Kanan doesn't trust Rex due to his own trauma with Order 66 and Rex knows it. A Rex who maybe doesn't entirely trust Kanan back makes things even more raw and difficult as they both have to learn to set aside their fears in order to work together.
But Rex probably isn't going to be entirely at ease with EZRA either the way he seems to be in canon. Ezra's young, sweet, eager to learn, and Rex is eager to teach and protect Ezra. But this Rex is going to remember another young, sweet, eager to learn Jedi Padawan who was caught up in a war and what that ultimately turned her into. He might keep more of a distance from Ezra for a while, not wanting to get too invested in a relationship that he isn't sure won't just end in more betrayal down the line. Kanan at least is an adult now, so he's been through war and being on the run for 15 years and come out the other side, which makes his personality and difficulties easier for Rex to acknowledge and handle. But Ezra could change, he's younger and more impressionable and still growing into who he is as a person, and that worries Rex a little.
And of course it won't help that round about the same time Rex joins up, Ahsoka starts making appearances and occasionally spending time with Kanan and Ezra. Rex is going to advocate for not trusting Ahsoka at all because she's proven herself untrustworthy before, she's proven herself cunning and tricky and entirely capable of lying to everyone around her even as she planned to betray them (she learned from the best, after all). Even as Ezra and Kanan and even Barriss try to vouch for how she doesn't really seem interested in violence even though she does seem sort-of selfish, Rex isn't going to make the same mistake twice.
So when Ahsoka shows up on Echo Base after Malachor, Rex isn't happy to see her. Especially since she shows up with all THREE of the Jedi who went on the mission injured and traumatized while she's mostly unscathed (she's definitely traumatized, she's just better at hiding it than Ezra currently is). Rex avoids her for a while when she chooses to stick around, doesn't trust the claims that she's turning a new leaf and on their side now. He's constantly wary of whatever plan to betray them she's setting up this time, even though logically he knows that that would be a really stupid plan given that everyone is going to expect it of her and be ready for it this time.
Ahsoka gives him his space, although she does try to approach him once to apologize for what she did, for the clones who died in the Temple bombing. Rex isn't ready to forgive her for it or discuss it, though, and tells her as much, which Ahsoka respects.
And then they end up on the mission where they get captured by the leftover Separatist droids and Rex isn't handling it very well. Ahsoka is the only one who is able to really reach him, the only one who fought with him back then and knows the tactics and plans he's going to come up with practically before he comes up with them himself, and her ability to keep up with him helps steady him a little until they make it through and to the tactical droid, where it's Ahsoka who has to help him calm down, who reminds them that they ALL have a shared enemy in the Empire and fighting each other does nothing but help the Empire that discarded them.
Rex approaches Ahsoka after that and tells her that while he isn't quite ready to forgive her still, he thinks he's ready to start trying to. She starts to promise that she'll never let him down again and he tells her not to make him any promises she can't keep, promises are just words after all and can easily turn to lies. All she can do is keep being better than she was.
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checkoutmybookshelf · 11 months
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Ok, having sat with it and thought about it, I want to talk about Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story for a sec.
There are things the show does astoundingly well. Everything about young Lady Danbury and young Charlotte, for one. The handling of women's relationships, sex, women's pleasure and desire, and sex after a marriage has ended were all done extraordinarily well. I particularly liked the interactions between Regency Lady Danbury and Regency Lady Bridgerton where they really talked openly about sharing their stories and talked as openly as possible about wanting sex and experiencing desire. All of this was done well and spoke to the whole of women's experience, it didn't suddenly kneecap sex and sexuality just because you're not 18 with a mint condition uterus anymore.
I think there were also things the show did really poorly. For one, I think not explaining where Reynolds disappeared to between the past and present is generously a massive plot hole and at worst a stealth version of the bury your gays trope. We objectively spent too much time with Reynolds and Brimsely and their relationship to not have some explanation of what happened there.
I also think that the handling of George's "madness" (and I use the term intentionally here, not with its sanist modern connotations but because that would have been the historical term and we don't have a more specific term to apply to it. I believe some scholars also use mad and madness in a reclaimed sense, so I also choose to give the show the benefit of that doubt and use both the historical and reclaimed sense. Terminology can get tricky, so I wanted to explain myself here.) Doubled down on ableist assumptions and tropes in subtle but nonetheless present ways. I won't get too deep into analysis here because I'm typing on my phone and that's a pain, but examples include the following:
- George's mother tends to infantilize him, insist that he is dangerous, and facilitates both the actual torture of her son and the removal of his bodily autonomy where his mental health and madness is concerned. Then the show frames it as a concerned parent looking after her child--who is a grown ass man at this point--and does not really go out of its way to say that she or the social assumptions and expectations are in the wrong for their treatment of George. The doctor gets blamed for being a torturer by Charlotre, which he absolutely is, but there lacks an indictment of the systems and social mores that prompt their treatment of George. It's not enough to point a finger at an individual and say "we removed the bad man, it's all better now." There are norms and systems involved in the harm that were not addressed, and we cannot allow parental mistreatment of disabled kids to go without condemnation.
- the show goes out of its way to tell us over and over and over that George is somehow dangerous, that he might hurt himself or others. His knives are dull. His windows are sealed shut. There are locks everywhere. You know what the show doesn't do? It doesn't support the gazillion number of times that someone says the George might hurt someone with evidence. Statistically speaking, disabled people are far more likely to experience violence than to perpetrate it, and while the show muddies this a bit with Charlotte's actions and attitudes toward George, there is a tacit reiteration of the myth that mad people are dangerous. It is the year of our lord 2023. We cannot keep spreading this myth.
- So this might be subjective, but I think the fact that every time George frames how.own experience of madness as lesser, a deficit, or a burden really highlights internalized ableism and the more general ableist and medical model framing of disability as a deficit that is located in an individual body and must be "fixed." I don't love that messaging, and as a chronically ill woman, I do not love it when characters in my media bemoan how much of a burden they are to everyone around them. That's ableist, pure and simple, and again, we cannot keep reiterating and reaffirming that this kind of framing is acceptable. It's not.
- There was also a bit of a narrative inclination to lean on the "the live of the right person can fix/mitigate a mental illness" which like...don't imply that meds and humane treatments aren't important. They are. Drink your water, take your meds.
I think that overall, Queen Charlotte did some amazing work with women's empowerment and Charlotte herself did some work to disrupt some ableist assumptions (I admit, I appreciated her line "let him be mad, if madness is what he needs." Thank you for meeting him where he was and for yeeting Dr. Evil's ass to the curb. Also, they didn't magically cure Goerge! Or kill him! Low bar, and probably only because of show continuity, but credit where credit is due with not leaning into the kill or cure trope.). That said, there were some insidious things that reiterated and reaffirmed ableist tropes and assumptions, and I would wish for those to be handled better on future.
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a-gal-with-taste · 2 years
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Baked And Battered (2/3)
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Summary: It's the classic story: Boy meets girl, Sumpsnipe meets Promenade-brat, baker meets rebel. And then it becomes so, so much more than that, for both of them.
(Inspired by @sweatandwoe ​ & Secret Ingredient, a must-read)
Warnings: SFW. Baker!Reader, fluff, romance, revolutionary-shenannigans, young love, flirting, time-skips, bit of world-building, slice-of-life-ish, hurt/comfort, humor, angst, eventual happy-ending
Part 1 Part 3
"You can be honest," Silco assured you, resting his fist against his chin to support his head, and you could see the corners of his mouth upturned, gaze mirthful. "I won't tell, promise."
".. .It's just so dry," You wheezed, causing his hand to raise higher to cover his cough as you glowered, hurriedly reaching for the flask of water he grabbed- likely because the bastard had predicted your reaction. "It's a honey-roll, how is it-... it's barely even sticky!"
"Astoundingly, it turns out importing important ingredients this far-down in the Entresol is a bit difficult," There's still laughter gleaming in his eye as he shrugs a shoulder towards the stall across the walkway. "It's been watered down so much, the honey probably had more in-common with fish than bees."
At this, you couldn't resist a small-snort around your next sip, rolling your eyes as you turned to look around, at lights at people at... how different the Lanes really were, you felt like you stepped from one world to the next... but far more incredible, was how different Silco had become.
He seemed to take a complete turn - there was always a standoffish-air about him during his trips in the Promenade, and that all but melted the deeper the two of you had gone into the lift.
There's nothing but confidence, practically radiating off his skin as he takes his hand into yours... and you daresay that the man almost looks relaxed.
"Checking me out, are you?"
You blink, then elbow him while the crooked smile of his only grows. "With charm like that, I'm not surprised you have half the Undercity wrapped around your finger," The obvious sarcasm is only met with a grin, the largest you ever thought him capable of.
"More than half."
"I'm sure."
"Doubt, from you?" Silco shakes his head, almost mournfully... but you see that dumb smirk still twitching at his lips. "Oh, the misery."
"Only misery here, is the food. You eat... things like that, all the time?"
You were never one to judge others taste, or culinary abilities - after the stunt with pasta, you would've ran Vander out with the steel cooking-prongs if that was the case - but you could swear there was still a spot on your tongue that was dryer than the desert from that honey-roll...
"Before you, I didn't eat much of anything," Silco said, snapping you out of your thoughts with a cold splash of reality. Reality that, Silco continued to map out for you in perfect clarity, with nothing more than an absent shrug, "Down in the mines, you're already well six-feet-under, and there's a million others willing to take the job. Foreman often figure, why feed one when there's another at-ready to replace it? Waste of food."
Passing by another stall, almost on reflex, you see his other hand flash out over the nearest basket of apples. You blink, a second time when his other hand comes to press at the small of your back, urging you at a calm, and sharp pace beside him as he continues to speak, as if nothing happened and there isn't a slightly bruised, round red-fruit in his hand.
"So, we had to go out. Scavenge, steal... sometimes just hope, or fantasize to get through one hungry night, to the next... there were too many nights in a row, once. So, I decided to do the previous-steps, although a bit further Uptown," He eye glinted at you in time with the edge of a knife catching in the knife. You don't know where it came from - you hope not from his boot - but it shines cleanly as Silco reduces to fruit into slices.
And then you blink, when one is promptly offered to you on the edge of his blade.
"I never did thank you. That first night."
Pinching off the apple-slice, you regard it for a heartbeat - noting it at least doesn't look shriveled and dry - before popping in your mouth. "I don't think it needed a thank-you. You said it yourself, it was for survival sake."
"On my end, yes. But what was your excuse?"
You paused, and thought about it for a moment, silently walking beside him along a busy street, in a part of a city you didn't know.
"I could? So I did." Realizing that gives the impression of impulsiveness, you're quick to revise your words after taking another bite of fruit. "I mean... you needed someone to help you, and I was there. And it would've felt wrong not to."
"So you acted on ethics?" His tone impassive, but Silco's eyes peer at you intently, thoughtful and deciphering.
"No. Acted on... compassion, I guess."
There's silence for a moment, and it's quiet enough that you're about to take in every-detail of Silco's calloused palm, meeting with yours, squeezing tightly.
"... Thank you."
"I told you, Silco, you never needed to-"
"And you didn't either," He interrupts, and there's a long pause, as if Silco debates with himself, wrestling with what he does next...
But even though it takes him far, far too long, he leans down enough to brush his lips against your cheek, his warm breath tickling your warming skin as he breathes, "You didn't, but you could. So, thank you."
It's quiet for the rest of the night. But as you lay in your bed, back above the bakery, smiling and cheek still tingling warm at the kiss, you think you both said more than enough.
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You never knew how quiet it could be.
And indeed, alone in the bakery, it can be... extremely quiet.
Older now, and more alone than you've ever been, you subtly part the curtains with your fingers, just enough to take a peek outside. You don't so much sigh with relief, when you take stock of the absence of blue-and-gold armored Enforcers, but some of the weary tension saps from you at the sight, or lack thereof.
The baker took their leave the moment after the first curfew was enacted, and left you the bakery.
The establishment... the place you trained, worked, lived, thrived, all yours and all-empty. On one-hand, you were glad. You didn't hate your mentor, far from it, but there was a callousness, hot-tempered part of them that you were glad to watch go out the front door with two bags, and no intent to look back.
You were certainly glad to have the shop all to yourself too - even with business slowing down to a crawl in the wake of double, triple Enforcer patrols along the Promenade. But the fact that it was all yours, from the two-room apartment above, to the shopfront you'd frequent from the moment you were taller than the counter, to your beloved, and ancient kitchen, of which you had practically every inch of surface memorized by heart...
It was like a dream. But it was a dream far, far too quiet.
Even now, moving away from the door, your body twitched at the sound of your small-sigh, and how it seemed to echo around the building. It was just too empty, with your mentor gone, customers often too weary to risk the Enforcer-monitors streets...
Clenching the mug tight in your hands, your mind slipped back to Silco.
Silco, Vander and Benzo... and the fact that all three hadn't shown up at the bakery in weeks. On one hand you understood, on the other, you were pacing with fingers shaking around the ceramic, and you were worried.
Worried of what, exactly? You weren't sure... but even in the worst of time, where life, work or whatever else kept the boys busy down in the Lanes, they always found a way back. With sheepish smiles, apologies and a ravenous appetite, it had become habit to expect the three to sneak in from the front periodically, not to mention you had long since gotten use to their visits as a fact of your life...
You were, perhaps a bit desperately at this point, keeping one ear out on the front door as you reluctantly returned to the kitchen to complete the afternoon batch of rolls.
That's probably why you all but dropped your ceramic mug, when you turned the corner to see Silco, slipping in though the back door.
You were standing in front of him in less than a second, staring up and breathing his name. A boy no longer, the last growth-spurt had been the bane of your existance but looking up at Silco, and taking in his tired, weary and bruised, and... here.
Here, and you don't waste a second longer, before taking advantage of that fact to rush to him, arms tight around his waist and face pressed close to his chest.
"I'm sorry."
"You should be," You hissed - not sniffling, no. "Where were you?"
Silco is quiet, for just a moment. Raising your head slightly with a gentle rise and fall of his breath, one arm loose, and yet securing around your waist. "... shall I be honest, or tell a lie that makes you feel better?"
"The truth, Sil," Scolding a man would be odd to any outsider, particularly when you stepped back to place your hands on your hips, but it worked, with Silco having the decency to look sheepish at your insistence. "Look... life gets busy? I get it. Work gets hectic? Sure... But five weeks, Silco?"
You balled your hands into fists at your sides, to hide that they were shaking, even after his eyes flicked down to them. "You scared me, Silco," You admit, and his tone is apologetic.
"I know, that's... partially why I would rather tell you a lie."
"Silco."
"We," He pauses, again, and you struggle not to tap your damn foot. "... closed down a mine."
You waited, but he said little else, and so with a sigh, the directionally changed for you to walk sharply into the kitchen. He follows, and leans heavily against the counter as you return to the oven - Silco takes a moment to glace between the shut-windows and front-door, before jerked back to attention at your flat-tone. "I see."
You didn't, and he knew it, which is why Silco murmured your name almost weakly, before wisely shuting his mouth.
"Five-weeks, Silco," You repeated firmly, taking out the ready-rolls fresh and hot from the oven. Out of habit, one was scooped off the pan with a spatula, set out to cool and consume by the young man you were scolding. "Closing down a mine took you five-weeks? Without any words or messages or-"
"We didn't close it. We blew it up."
Mid-scoop, your arm jerked violently. You don't even mourn the fact that a roll bounces off the coutertop and is left to cool on the floor, as you turn to gaze opened-mouthed at Silco at his announcement. He doesn't meet your eyes, and when he speaks, it's as clinical as sterilized-steel.
"It's been opened for generations. Thousands lived, died, and are buried within it's walls, all under Enforcer command. No more."
You blink, inhale, and exhale lowly, shakily, "Did... was there... anyone...?"
"No. We cleared it, did it at night, but..." He hesitates, before jerking his chin, long dark hair flicking at the movement he makes towards the window. "If you were wondering why about the new influx of patrols, I know of a handful of reasons."
Body slumps against the counter. Your arms, thankfully, keep you propped up, but you can only stare at Silco. A million and one thoughts running through your mind, but from them all, you can only manage four words, "How are you feeling?"
"How do you think?"
"Okay, how... what's next?"
The weariness in bright sea-green eyes fade into determination, the kind you had seen that night in the Lanes, years ago. "There are others, willing to fight beside us, willing to do whatever it takes... it's possible." Silco says it firmly - not as if to convince himself, or even you, but perhaps to convince the world. "It's... our freedom, is possible."
You want to shake him, really. Thoughts of patrols, of cave-ins, recklessness, arrests, of Stillwater, fill your mind, while you know there's only the glowing hope of a better, grander future filling his.
He's scaring you, but it's with his hopes for a better future, a better life for himself, and for the people in the lower-parts of the Undercity.
How... how can you possibly dim that hope with your fears?
But maybe Silco sees it, when he looks to you fully, and takes in the slight shake in your arms as you lean heavily on the countertop. Pushing away from his own counter, he reaches towards you, and you're quick and eager to meet him halfway, grasping his arm tightly as you look up at him. "I... what... what do you want me to do?"
"Nothing."
A blink - from both baker and newfound rebel, as if neither could believe the force behind his words. Silco tries again, licking his lips, "I don't... want you doing anything. Getting involved with this. We reside in different seconds of the Undercity, and it's far-safer for you to continue up here..."
"But I want to help you," You insist, reaching up with your other hand, and though the young man jerks, bright eyes widening at the touch, you watch as he leans slowly into the palm that cups his face, eyelashes flickering, "Silco... whatever you need. However I could help. Let me, please."
For a moment, there's silence. From you, fear and worry, but also assurance that your support was far from shaken. And from him... his eyes open fully, and Silco gazes at you with a mixture of emotions, all swirling too fast for you to decipher.
He says far, far much more, with the way he leans down to brush lips to yours, than with words.
Another kiss, one made far too late, and far too sweet, that you almost stumble in the man's grasp at it.
It's so full of adoration, that you know even Silco couldn't put it all into words.
You canteen find your own, and a forehead presses against another for a long heartbeat, before Silco speaks again, quietly, and yet firmly, "It would help me to know you're here. Safe. Working, doing your business and... staying out of the Lanes."
"Forever?"
"No, just... just until."
"Would... would you be able to come see me?"
Another kiss, this one quicker to come, and this one far more firmly, as Silco whispers urgently against your lips, "As often as I can."
Those same lips smile, and you let out a small laugh - part hysterical, but Silco seems to share it. Euphoria and fear mixing together, a perfect and chaotic blend...
As he kisses you, a third-time that speaks not of the joy of the possible future and the anxiety of war-indeed, but of the joy sizzling between you at these long-awaited kisses... you try to ignore the fact that it feels like this perfect mixture, feels only one ingredient away from disaster.
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Disaster, it turns out, comes in many forms.
The Children of Zaun quickly turn into a disaster for Piltover. A group of children, the product of generations of apathy, misery and oppression, lash out with the full-force of descendents making up for their predecessors lack of fighting in the past, and it's simply a disaster for the Enforcers.
Patrols allbut swarm the Promenade, and the Alcoves fared even worse with harbors constantly under-watch, but it only helped the Topside efforts so much.
Smuggling became a full-time profession. The Lanes already made no secret of the extra items among their stalls, but now, there was no secret on the raids made, typically against Enforcers themselves.
It's impressive. It's sending a message, showing that the Children of Zaun are a legitimate force, with a real, clear goal of refusing to cow to enforcement.... and it's scaring you half to death.
A bakery, obviously, doesn't warrant any searches among the swarms of Enforcers that stalk the streets - in fact, they're almost cheery to get warm, fresh-made food at your little shop on your lunch-breaks, and while the gold is appreciated, the polite smile on your face forever feels frozen as each Topside customer.
You try to picture, which Enforcer gave Vander that walloping on the harbor last month? The one that threw that gas-canisters into a safehouse Benzo had been guarding? You can't even hate them - all you energy goes into the worry of what these Enforcers are doing to your friends, and for those trying to fight for their right to exist in a better life.
It shows in your baking too, though Silco, bless him, doesn't comment. Even as his brow twitches as he takes a bite of an turnover - apple. You both had developed a sort of fondness for them, since that night in the Lanes.
"Was anyone else...?" You don't finish. Maybe because a part of you doesn't want to know, but also because the stitch in his arm requires your full-attention - years ago, you would've balked at the thought of even attempting it. But times are changing.
"No. We had a decent force... as the leader, I worked to made sure everyone got out of their first." A pause, then he crams the rest of the pastry into his mouth, avoiding your gaze. Silco chews slowly, to avoid speaking (and also because you both knew full-well it was more chewy than flakey) before finally answering in an almost sheepish-tone. "And it is just a scratch."
"One that's taking a dozen amateur stitches to close. Sure."
"You're doing a good job," His assurance is met with a grateful squeeze on your knee, pressed against his own as you work closely. Nails dig faintly through your apron and your pants beneath it as you work to snip of the excess, and carefully tie off the stich, before it eases as you reach for a nearby wrapping. "Who knows? Could be my personal baker and nurse one of these days."
"I can't fix everything, Silco. And I would be grateful if you would... you know. Visit an actual doctor."
"Ah, but where would I get the opportunity to eat as you work?" His tease ends in a hiss, as you tie off the wrap just a smidge tighter than necessary... for his benefit, of course.
Leaving him briefly to wash up, clean yourself off, and remove your apron - he made a habit of showing-up at the tail-end of your shift. When he could show-up, that is. Upon returning, silently, Silco held his hand out to you.
You offered your own without hesitation, and for a moment just... tried to enjoy this.
Even with worry plucking at every nerve, and even fear spiking through you everytime you glanced at the carefully-curtained windows, knowing what the world was outside, you tried to enjoy this moment with Silco as much as you could.
It wasn't hard, as his thumb carefully strummed along your knuckles, and his hand was so, so warm in yours.
"... there's some benefits to all this."
"I know. Never said there wasn't."
"We're making progress," Mouth twisting in a sneer at Piltover's iconic buzzword, his eyes softened at your glance. "We are. The Sumps are all but abandoned by Pilties, and the central-Lanes are in our control. If we just keep pushing, keep working... we can do it. We could have the Nation of Zaun by the end of the year, so long as we keep up."
Smiling, you shook your head, "You'll work yourself to death... you could afford to slow down, Silco. You, Vander and Benzo." You couldn't even remember the last time you saw the other Sons of Zaun. Had Vander grown another half-foot in your absence? "You can take a break... Zaun will still be here for you, if you just slowed down a bit."
"I can slow down when the Undercity is ours, or I'm dead." Stubborn as he was, there was a soft look in his eyes as the gentle notes of your voice, all but asking him to take care of himself.
"If I have to bury you, I'm going to be real upset." You tried. You tried to make it sound like a joke, tried to keep the pinched-note of worry from your voice, but you tried and failed.
Though, at the very least, the seagreen-eyes looked guilty at your words. It wasn't as much as a comfort as you would hope, but you kept focus on your joined hands... meaning you missed the way the soft look in Silco's eyes faded, and were replace by determination. A firmness that wasn't showed in his quiet, almost reassuring words.
"If I do-"
"Stop."
"If I-"
"No. Stop it. Don't you dare start that," Snatching your hand away like he scalded you - he might as well have, there was a sudden heat behind your eyes - you didn't get more than two steps before his hand shot out, latching and interlocking with yours.
"If I do," He starts again, far, far too calmly. "Then I want you to focus on you. Not me, don't..." Silco pauses, then shrugs the shoulder that isn't bandage, with all the casualness of a man discussing weather, save for a bitter smile on his lips. "Bit late to tell you to forget me... but it wouldn't be worth it, to keep going on life thinking about a dead man."
"Why are you so certain that's what you'll be?"
He laughs, and you blink at the way it sounds so dark, and worst of, knowing. "Because I know who I am? Because I know where I came from? Because dying is a risk I've known all my life...?"
You could shake him, for how careless he shrugged, and how he wouldn't even meet your gaze. "Death has always been the logical end-point... not the goal, but I know it's coming. I just want to make sure you'll be okay, when it does."
You're about to shake him. About to rip your hand from his, teeth-bared and eyes furious instead of releasing the embarrassing tears behind them, but you can only hoarsely whisper, "Why?"
"Why would I want you to be okay, when I'm no longer here?" Silco laughs, just as sullen, bitter as the previous. "I think we both know why... and we both know the feeling is mutual."
"Of course it is." You manage not to flinch as his fingers tighten, his gaze flashing to you with intensity, and for just a moment, pure and never faltering love for you. "But why... why are you saying all this now?" A swallow, before you add in a breath, "Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?"
Silence reigned, and not even Silco, pushing the chair back and standing, could break it.
Only your inhale, shaking and tight, broke it by the time he had stepped halfway across the shopfront to you. "Are you?"
Silco opens... closes, opens, and closes his mouth again. Losing his words and losing his thoughts - both first-time occurrences. His arms reaching out to you, wrapping around your waist and pulling you into an embrace against his chest, is far from a first-time occurrence.
But it's the first time you leave the front of his shirt wet, the bright, rebellious maroon color bleeding darker, like blood with your tears.
"Are you?" You whisper against his sternum, and you hear and feel the shudder in his exhale, before Silco speaks.
"I hope not. Gods, I hope not... but how can I stop? Change can't stop, anymore than this revolution can... the only end for change is death. And I've... always aimed to desire change."
"Can't you aim any lower?"
Again, the chuckle you both share is a little hysterical - for you, quite a bit more so.
Silence once again fills the space around you, and the smaller space between you. Enjoying the moment is impossible, but even as you cling to Silco, it's impossible to ignore the comfort he brings, as his hand cups your head, with fingers caressing though your hair as he holds you close.
"Promise me one thing?"
Silco hesitates. "I'll try."
"Try, to stay alive. For me." Even if he couldn't come every day. Even Zaun's freedom wasn't a guarantee, even if you had to sell the damn bakery to bail him out of Stillwater if he got arrested..."Just, stay alive. That's all I ask."
The quiet only lasts a minute, before you feel a small dip of his chin on your head, in the motion of a brief nod. Allbut slumping into your arms, Silco holds you even tighter to him, other palm now reaching to rub circles into your lower-back in an assuring motion.
"May I ask something as well?"
"Mm?"
There's a pause, and you brace for another promise. Extracted form you, assuring him that whatever happens to him, you would be okay. A promise, you weren't sure you could keep.
You're braced for all that and more. Not the kiss he presses to the crown of your head, firm enough that you feel his words, more than hear his words. "I miss your cooking. Promise to have something ready, the next time I come back?"
A laugh all but bursts out of you - again, hysterical, but actual comedy in your tone as you weakly smack his arm for such a silly request, in such a heavy atmosphere. Perhaps he's lightening the mood, perhaps he's just trying to distract... it works, for a moment, though...
"You moron...  what do you want?"
"Anything you make, is simply delectable, my dear. Though, I'm curious what your version of a honey-roll would be."
"Not dry, that's for sure..."
For just a moment, like children, you can almost forget how dark, and cruel the Undercity could be.
Despite the mirthful air between you, despite laughter, you pray to any God that hears you, that they won't try to remind you.
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utilitycaster · 2 years
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I know this is going to sound pretentious but I do think that the concept of fandom as it exists today in part fuels a lot of the really rigid and, in my opinion, childish ways people engage with works. I'm thinking specifically of the question I got earlier this week about violence, but it's definitely not the only aspect.
Social media fandom often rewards a lack of context. This isn’t new nor exclusive to social media, to be fair; AUs, in which the entire point is to strip out context, have been popular for a long time. But social media certainly makes it easier. Twitter, by design, cannot provide much context. But even longer form places like Tumblr are usually dominated by art or gifs, which may or may not actually engage with what’s happening in the work and which can only provide a moment or so from it. It’s very easy to only relive the highlights, or even a version that never existed. (I’ve seen some wild gif edits.)
Social media can also lead to the phenomenon of people getting into a fandom, more so than getting into the work, and I do think this is a newer thing in that entering into fandom in the earlier days of the internet, or even pre-internet, required a much more significant effort. Today, though, in really extreme cases you get people who only engage with fandom and not with the original in some kind Plato’s allegory of the cave hellscape, and in doing so perpetuate fanon over canon, and because they are in the end fans of fandom, not the work, everything they touch sort of swirls into a bland universal fanon that they overlay onto whatever they see. And because that fanon is meant to cover everything it applies rules that were never meant to apply to the originals.
There’s also a sense of belonging that people like with fandom; but again, if you start with the intent to get into the fandom, you aren’t here for the work itself and that, I think, is where people start feeling betrayed by the work or angry at it for not fitting an idea in their head. There’s a great post outlining, theoretically, exactly how this would happen for The Cask of Amontillado.
That, I think, is why people get so angry at the concept of violence in a work. I mean yeah some of it is privilege/conservative upbringings that they haven’t properly interrogated/the whole other can of worms that is how social media engages with mental health and personal responsibility, but I do think a huge factor is people saw a piece of fluffy art or an incorrect quote, said “this is for me!” without looking into the context or the genre, and then are furious that this was a picture not indicative of the larger themes (or even a picture of something that never happened in the original) because this was supposed to be comfort media! It was supposed to represent them! But it’s not, and it never was.
None of this is to say that art or gifs or memes or even divergence from canon in your fan works are bad. I like those things a lot! It’s just that it’s astoundingly easy to only look at the fan works to the point of ignoring what’s actually happening, and then being blindsided by what is actually happening coming to its logical conclusion. It's deciding to watch a movie because of the blooper reel and then being mad that there's more to it than that.
This ties into something I’ve said before about people focusing on the wrong aspect of recognized problems (”I don’t like labels”, fridging, bury your gays, “Strong Female Characters”). All of those are problems when they’re a dominant trend, but, well, they require a lot of context to properly understand, both in terms of the specific work, and also in terms of the genre and the historical cultural context in which they were developed and you can't just throw those words out to mean "a thing I don't like is happening".
All of this is a long way to say that you can like what you like, but you look like an idiot when you get mad at something for being exactly what it said it would be. If you don’t want a story with violence, then you’re going to have to actually put in the work to find stories without violence instead of glomming on to whatever has some art or memes you like and then clutching your pearls when it’s more than just those memes.
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lumine-no-hikari · 2 months
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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #43
A lot of really awesome things happened today!!
First: I got this thing called a Backpod. It's a green, oval-shaped half dome. You lie down with your back on it, and you let your body weight make your ribs and spine go CRONCH. That is what happened, and at least for now, I can breathe without pain for the first time in over a year! It's a marvelous thing!!
Along with the Backpod, I had gotten myself a couple of different teas as a reward for "adulting" successfully! One is a jam-and-toast flavored tea, and the other is a biscuit-flavored tea. In celebration of the good cronch earlier, I decided to make myself a mug full of the jam-and-toast flavored tea. And I must tell you: IT TASTES EXACTLY LIKE JAM ON DARKLY-TOASTED BREAD. And I have no idea how they made it taste like that, but it's ABSOLUTELY! DELECTABLE! and I wish so badly that I could share some with you, because it's so, so, so good! Alas, I cannot. And alas, it was so good that I drained the mug before I even thought to take a picture for you. I'm sorry. But I'll tell you what: I'll make sure to take a picture for you next time. It's a promise.
Later in the evening, I also went to hotpot with a bunch of my friends - a different group than the one we went to sushi with (except for my best friend; she went to both this thing and the sushi thing). I thought about taking pictures, but although the food was very good, I didn't think I'd be able to take a picture that would make it look good - at least not this time; it was crowded, and although I thought it was nice to be so cozy with my friends at the place, I think the coziness resulted in a not-very-photogenic table of snacks.
But we will go again soon, with a smaller group of friends! And I promise you that I'll take some pictures for you then!
While I was there, I reflected on how lucky I am to have such a wide and varied group of friends. All of them have their similarities, of course, but they are all talented in different ways, and they all have their own unique life experiences, stories, and points of view to bring to the table. My favorite part of the whole thing was being able to watch as these people, who barely knew each other, conversed and had a great time together. They are all astoundingly good people, and I'm really glad that I had the chance to watch them all interact over delicious food.
As before… I wish you could have been here with us. I know that such a thing is impossible for a variety of compelling reasons, but still, I think you could exist as you are amongst my friends and be very welcomed and very safe. I think you would experience and learn a lot of wholesome things. I think you would have a lot of fun. I think you would find many points of commonality with the people whose company I keep, I think you would find the experience of being seen and understood, and I think you would find many, many reasons to smile and laugh joyfully along the way.
At least for now, I'm able to see that I'm lovable and worthy. Something will probably come along later and I'll end up forgetting, because sometimes my brain is mean and it likes to tell me that I'm weird and unlikable and that the people who chill with me only do so because watching me derp around like an idiot is funny. I wonder if all humans get days like that. Do you get days like that? In any case, I know that when I inevitably end up with days like that, I'll be able to look back on this as evidence that all the mean things my brain likes to think about myself aren't at all true.
What things can you look back on to remind yourself that there's no truth to any of the mean things your brain likes to try to tell you? Maybe you look back at the way Zack seemed to enjoy listening to your memories as you spoke on them. Maybe you look back at the way Angeal loved both you and Genesis enough to try to protect you both from the recklessness that you both displayed in the Shinra Training Room. Maybe you look back on the back pats you received from Glenn, or on the head pats you received from Lucia, or on the way Glenn held you when you were trying not to cry after you got injured by the Rhadoran child soldiers.
What about the fact that some derpy autistic human all the way from another world is trying to write to you? Can you use the fact that some ordinary human from elsewhere is trying, albeit clumsily, to reach you, even over an impossible distance, as evidence for the fact that you were always lovable, worthwhile, and enough as you are?
…Probably not, haha. For a variety of very practical and down-to-earth reasons, I doubt that any of this will ever reach you. But that's okay. I'm going to try anyway. I'm going to try even though it probably won't work out. I'm going to try even though it probably seems irrational and stupid to most other people. I'm going to try, simply because, fictional or not, you're worth the effort. And you're worth enduring the pain for, if things don't pan out.
So I'll keep politely asking the void, over and over and over again, for peace, safety, healing, friendship, belonging, and happiness upon you. Because despite whatever self-loathing nonsense your brain might try to tell you, you're loved and cared about. You're necessary and important. You belong here, alongside everyone, striving towards a better world in which nobody has to get hurt or be afraid.
I'll keep striving towards that world, too, in whatever small ways I can. So please don't disappear, okay? Your existence is part of what gives me the courage to rise and face each and every day that still lies ahead of me, despite everything that happened before, and despite all the scary things that go on all around me all the time.
I suppose I'll end this one for now, but not before I leave you just a little song:
youtube
I'll keep singing those little lullabies, so make sure you get back home in one piece, okay?
You can count on me to write to you again tomorrow.
Your friend, Lumine
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admirableadmiranda · 2 years
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I feel like the view on lwj that he was lacking before he met wwx or fell in love is somewhat unfair and dismissive of his complexity as a character
I completely agree, anon. There has been a sad trend lately where people are now blaming Lan Wangji for not being perfect enough for Wei Wuxian, claiming that it's only on him that things didn't happen sooner and that he should have done more.
Lan Wangji is the deutoroganist of the story. The one who has the most focus and growth outside of the protagonist. He is astoundingly well-rounded and from those very first days in the Cloud Recesses, fascinating enough to draw and keep Wei Wuxian's attention on him even without meaning to. And that's at fifteen. When he's still a young sprout just beginning to really come into himself.
Meeting Wei Wuxian definitely changed him in many ways, that's undeniable, but it wasn't like he was a blank canvas before that, just a sheltered boy who is so very good beneath the mask he puts up. He goes out and does things just because he can, setting out with plenty of time to walk to a lotus pond to try them with stems on because Wei Wuxian said they were good and ends up being too late because he keeps stopping to help people. He is titled by the common people for being so good that he keeps going out of his way to help them in the middle of a war. Even without Wei Wuxian he would have done this.
What Wei Wuxian really does for him is help him see that anyone is capable of being that righteous, of being that good. They are equals, they are both morally upright, they are both kind, they are both forgiving and able to see people as more than their worst decisions consistently. He is optimistic and chooses to believe that people will be better when given the chance.
He lacked the full world experience to see exactly what was happening in Wei Wuxian's first life until it was too late, but he didn't let that crush that optimism in him. He never turned his back on the world or his family despite their actions because he is not that person. It is a difficult thing to do, yet he walks that line gracefully and lives a life that anyone would not be ashamed to have lived by the end. He teaches a group of bright, open children who will make the future better by also believing in the world. None of these were things that he wouldn't have been able to do had he never met Wei Wuxian.
This is going to sound so odd based off of some of my older metas and arguments and I hope I can convey what I mean well enough to explain the difference, but I think there are sections of the fanbase that have leaned too far in the wrong direction again with Wei Wuxian. Sure he's no longer being written as a stupid chaos gremlin who can't do anything and actively makes things worse, but now he's starting to lose his personality traits that make him more interesting than most heroes like his kindness and desire to tease, giving him other people's strong morals and claiming that he cannot stand anyone who is not as morally pure as he is. Which is just wrong, he is not some avenging angel of justice. He is a man, a man who has made mistakes and has regrets and would choose things differently, who doesn't blame people for being human.
People are starting to knock down Lan Wangji to throw Wei Wuxian on a pedestal of godhood that he doesn't deserve and wouldn't want. They transform the people around him into either devoted peons who have also never committed a single transgression in their lives or repentant sinners who he magnaminously forgives their mistakes and allows them to stand in his shadow. It is a disservice to the people he chooses to surround him - Wen Ning commits treason and even betrays Wei Wuxian by spilling one of his secrets to his former sect leader, Wen Qing is just as smothering a big sister as Jiang Yanli or Lan Xichen ever were, yet those traits are ignored because they are seen as the perfect innocent victims, the Wens being cultivators is erased in favor of making them sad poor farmers who were unjustly persecuted and never held a weapon, weakening the strength of Wei Wuxian's decision to protect them because no one should be condemned for their name or their family. People bash Lan Xichen, Jiang Yanli, now Lan Wangji too for apparently being not supportive enough, not perfect enough for him to care about them, but that has never ever been Wei Wuxian's thought process on the people he chooses in his life.
I don't like it, anon. I don't like that people erase Wei Wuxian himself because his actual choices don't match with their illusion of his godhood. I don't like that people put down Lan Wangji for not being perfect enough when that was never the point. I don't like that people act like he somehow deserves to be ascended based off of prestige when it literally goes against things he directly says in the text.
You are right. It is unfair and dismisses Lan Wangji's character. And unfortunately the people pushing Wei Wuxian to overshadow everyone are the ones responsible because in the process of making him brilliant, they blot him out entirely.
When I joined, it was people feeling bad that Wei Wuxian didn't see Lan Wangji's brilliance. Now it is people complaining that Lan Wangji isn't good enough for Wei Wuxian. After a whole novel about how that doesn't actually matter because they never judged or blamed each other for any of the things that came between them and would never want someone to lift them up at the expense of the other. Wangxian adore each other so much.
And when I see it on either side, it just makes me so mad.
Thank you for the ask!
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symptoms-syndrome · 11 months
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Ok I'm at least going to write a little. And maybe post this tomorrow (Sunday) It can be hard bc some parts don't have names but like. They just won't be mentioned I guess. There's also ofc some esp vulnerable parts that aren't listed. Basically what I'm saying is don't take this as a full rundown or whatever.
Some parts. * Means they're around often but that's always subject to change
*Tomas (he/him) responsible. Weirdly I notice he doesn't use contractions often IDK why, but that's one of the ways I can tell if he's written a journal entry or something. Mostly keeps to himself, but not like. Shy or anything. Likes to get things done. Easily frustrated and overwhelmed but astoundingly patient at the same time. I think he likes to think he has the most control over himself, he's definitely got a lot of control over his composure. May or may not have parts of his own.
**Seba (who gives a shit. But I mostly use he/they.) Less responsible in the typical ways but responsible in the ways that keep us safe. Can be kinda aggressive sometimes. Least afraid of being an asshole. I can tell when he's written a journal entry or post bc he uses a lot of abbreviations and shortens words a lot (you -> u, etc) and just generally talks more crudely. Very cool. Gets along well w other parts. He's around a lot.
Hess (she) older lady. Most responsible, very well mannered and stuff. Very kind and friendly. Kinda motherly. Cleans up a lot and/or encourages us to clean up. She's usually not around front alone as far as I can tell. It happens sometimes but not super often. She used to be around more but sort of went MIA not sure why. She's a good advice giver and calm down-er though. Very comforting.
*Mimi (she) resident Girl with a capital G. Bubbly and cute and fun. Loves to feel pretty and tell other people they're pretty and that sort of thing. Has a hard time sitting still. Super super sweet both internally and externally. She's probably the clearest most obvious part because she likes to make her presence known. Also notably white, and sometimes forgets that we're not.
Aslan (he) kid, fun, cute. V curious about things. Most typical kid type part.
Anne (she) kid, not as fun or cute. Very well mannered/strong etiquette.
*Jesse (she...?) Hard to talk about. Can be harsh. Values freedom and fun but irresponsible and reckless.
Jay (he) don't know a ton. He feels like some sort of organizer or note-taker. Knows a lot. Doesn't share a lot. Has shown up for all our inner world things w therapist but AFAIK doesn't really front often if at all...?
Runaway (I've been using she) very stuck in the past. Teenager. Kinda broody. Depressed but also angry I think. Edgy. Has a very strong taste for aesthetic.
Sorta wish I could tell you about the "host' part but I don't think we have any part that feels strongly abt that role. I also am trying to figure out w some parts like. The whole "is this a different part or does it just feel different bc it's a funky blend."
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