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#i can acknowledge i did monstrous things while knowing i am not a monster
zelink-stan02 · 13 days
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So, I was surfing the grishaverse tag the other day and damn near every other post I saw was pro-Darkling "uWu how dare Leigh write her villain in a way that's supposed to make us hate him, he deserved better, he did nothing wrong", I actually think my eye started twitching. Literally every Darkling post I ever see on the hellish webbed site is about how he's hot or misunderstood and how he was right. Now I am all for loving whatever fictional characters you want, including villains and antagonists. That's all well and good, but the issue lies with people who look at a villain, who is clearly bad, no matter if their intentions were good or not, and try to justify their horrible acts. There is a difference between loving a character and justifying atrocity because you wanna fuck the hot guy in your book. You can love a character, make art, write fic, write incorrect quotes, but don't sweep the awful things under the rug and pretend they never happened. Acknowledge that they're awful and show that you are not.
(spoilers for the SaB trilogy and some graphic and potentially triggering language under the cut, check the tags for tws)
Now, I don't know what book y'all Darkles stans were reading, but in what world can you actually say that he made acceptable decisions that were ACTUALLY for the good of the Grisha? Yes, he wanted to help his people. But he never actually accomplished that. He may have formed the Second Army, but in doing so, he arguably put them in more danger. Yes, they were properly trained, but now they were forced to fight in wars where the opposing forces wanted their complete annihilation, on top of killing his own soldiers with his own monstrous, bastardized creation because they dare question him. He was using and manipulating the very people he swore to protect. Can you actually tell me that was a good idea? That wasn't an awful thing to continually put your people through for hundreds of years while you sat by and watched them die? That breaking your people's oldest law and summoning creatures to do your bidding was wise? He is LITERALLY a war criminal. What about all of the things that happened just in the events of the trilogy, not what we were told in backstory and can learn with context clues, and not to mention the destruction and death that was the Fold? Was it okay that he took Alina, a young, naive, scared SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL, that had just come into this incredible power and nearly destroyed her for his own gain with no regard for her safety even though he claimed to love her? He tried to kill her, he kidnapped her, abused and manipulated her, murdered and mutilated people she loved. What about what he did to Genya? He sent her, A CHILD, to be raped, neglected, and used for her unique abilities, all to appease a king and queen he hated so that he would gain their favor and to further infiltrate their court. You can't seriously believe that he didn't know what would happen to her, he was far too smart, too calculating and cunning to think that "gifting" Genya to the queen as a companion was all that her time in the inner circles of the Grand Palace would hold. The Darkling continually hurt and manipulated her. He pushed Genya into a life of servitude, that from the outside, looked like a life of glamour and favoritism which caused resentment from her fellow Grisha and alienation from them and eventually Alina, Genya's only friend. Then when she tried to think for herself and do the right thing, he nearly killed her for it. He took Genya, a girl who used her beauty as armor, a girl whose beauty he used as currency, and left her irreparably scarred. What about what he did to Baghra, his own mother? The creature he turned Nikolai into? The scars he left with Zoya after watching so many of her friends die? What do you say to Marie who was literally ripped apart by his demons? To Sergei who developed severe PTSD and survivors guilt after having to watch the girl he loved be ripped apart by monsters, after he held her mangled body while more of those same monsters slaughtered his friends? The monsters that the Darkling unleashed? He never tried to apologize, never showed an ounce of remorse. How can you continually place blame on Genya and Alina and literally anyone else rather than the person that caused their suffering? Why are they to blame for being used and thrown aside like yesterday's trash? All because you think that they were whiney and ungrateful, because they should have been nicer? If you actually think that anyone is to blame for his actions and their consequences other than the Darkling himself, then I think you need to reread the books, because we certainly weren't reading the same ones.
How can you get angry at Leigh for writing her VILLAIN in a way that is supposed to make you hate him? I can admit that I think he is incredibly interesting and complex, the Darkling is a well written character, but that does not nullify anything. Seeing the part of him that is likened to a scared child or that is vulnerable does not free him of blame. He was hundreds of years old and he still chose to do things that caused irreparable damage. Leigh wrote him that way on purpose, he was supposed to be someone you could find some sympathy for, that you could identify with in some way, because he is supposed to be like the abusive, toxic men we see everyday. He lures you in with false hope, fake smiles, conditional love, uses you to meet his own needs and then takes it all away the moment you cross him, the moment you do something that could threaten his power over you or change the glorified image of himself that he placed in your mind. He is THE critique of powerful men in our society, that is why we are supposed to hate him, because in so many ways, he is real.
I don't want to hear that it doesn't matter because he's fictional, because in this instance that doesn't apply (as fiction can and does affect and reflect reality). If you can justify those acts in fiction, then what can you justify in reality? How many of you use his own tactics in your daily lives? It makes me wonder how many of you have people in your lives that are abuse survivors, and how they would feel knowing that you're an apologist and that your favorite "uWu bbgrl perfect in every way" character is a fucking monster in every sense of the word.
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castingmysilver · 11 months
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...not engaging with the individual directly because I don't do that, I don't hate on random Tumblrs and I don't like debating topics where the stakes are super high emotionally in the first place these days. But.
I saw someone expressing... strong skepticism that religious homeschooling parents who wound up doing wrong by their children could be often well-intentioned. And like...
That's not whitewashing the truth, that's not a refusal to face the facts, and that's not excessively diplomatic phrasing. It's something we have to deal with *all the time.*
Even for those of us who believe what our parents did was not ideal, who are pulling away from the party line we were raised with on an increasing number of things... it cannot be as simple as villainizing and dismissing our folks?
Humans are not two-dimensional.
There are a number of people both in and influential to the religious homeschool movement who I am increasingly certain are, to put it simply, monstrous; and to be a little more nuanced, have their head so far up their ideological ass that they cannot see anymore that the systematic harm they commit and encourage is anything other than goodness in the name of a deeply hateful perception of God, which does not stop giving stones for bread and serpents for fish being *evil.*
While I firmly acknowledge that - there are still many, many people who fundamentally want to improve their children's lives, and soaked up a lot of bad advice and a generous helping of peer-pressure and got some very twisted-up ideas of what improving their children's lives would look like.
"Well-intentioned" does not mean "they got it right."
"Well-intentioned" does not mean "they did no harm."
All it *is* is a recognition that folks can have complicated motivations and be trying the best they think they know how whether or not they fuck up. *Yes,* even sometimes parents who wind up being abusive. Abusive humans are not automatically monsters who can't be understood. And if you sort them that way in your head, you both lose any leverage you have to potentially point somebody towards change, and you shut off your own ability to recognize abuse if it comes from anybody you know isn't a monster.
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blzzrdstryr · 3 years
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Signed in blood
Yandere!Zhongli x Yaksha!gn!reader
Wordcount: 2541
CW: Yandere themes, mentioned violence and death, unhealthy power dynamics
Long before Liyue’s borders had been established and the harbor bloomed into the prosperous city that it is today, the Geo Lord, Rex Lapis gathered all lesser deities and spirits dwelling in the current nation’s territory and concluded a contract with most of them, ensuring the protection of his country and people. Some of them signed a contract out of fear before archon’s power, some did it for mutual benefit and some out of gratitude and deep reverence. You are in the latter category, a simple forest spirit that was saved from the distorted monsters left after the archon war by his grace and power alone.
It was a simple day when you felt an enormously malicious energy surrounding your green abode, and soon they showed up, killing intent and will of dead archons seeping out of them. You were fast and agile enough to dodge creatures' hits, which couldn't be said about the others. Your fellow spirits and animals with whom you were sharing this forest soon fell victim to the perpetrators' attacks. Dark energy entered and desecrated the lands, poisoned the waters and even possessed the bodies of your old friends.
You were running away, fatigue finally catching up to you, despite the inhuman nature and you soon fell to the ground. There were a myriad of thoughts and feelings reeling inside of you - grief for your now dead friends and home, anger at the monsters and most importantly frustration with yourself. You aren’t human, not a single part of you is, so why were you so weak and helpless, unable to do anything as you left your loved ones for slaughter and massacre?
Guilt and shame washed over you, as you allowed tears to burst free - you were bad, you were disgusting for not doing anything, not helping anyone. Monstrous roars and growls got closer, a promise and a threat of what will happen to you. You closed your eyes, accepting the imminent end and bracing for the upcoming pain. And then the most unexpected thing happened - the earth underneath you vibrated, tremors knocking the beasts off their feet, as a tall basalt pillar rose from the ground.
Soon the stranger appeared, ending the monsters in one swift and elegant slash of his spear. He donned an otherwise simple white attire adorned with golden threads, with a long ponytail showing from the hood, but the most eye-catching details were piercing amber eyes and the glowing patterns all over his body of the same colour. You forgot how to breathe for a second as you watched your unexpected savior - he was beyond handsome, possessing the kind of beauty that would have mortals blushing and stuttering.
He then looked around, finally noticing your sprawled form. “Are you all right?”he asked, his tranquil and calm voice tinted by the shadow of concern and lending his hand. “I am”, you sputtered out and took an outstretched limb, feeling infinitely clumsy and ugly, face heating up from embarrassment. “That is good”, his voice despite still possessing the same serenity took a warmer tone.
As you learned later, you were saved by one of the seven remaining archons, a lord of geo. Filled with shame for your dishonorable escape and gratitude for your unforeseen salvation you signed the tightest contract with Rex Lapis - a blood written pact.
Unlike the contracts mortals establish, a contract between two immortal beings lacks the parchment or ink or a signature, they use magic and techniques that echo directly into their soul, preventing even the possibility of the terms' violation. Blood written pact binds to the vital essences of one, an ancient magic flaring up once the contractor intends to break the agreement, stopping and warning them of what's to come once they do breach it.
Your blood sizzled and boiled as you pledged your life to Liyue, magic singing in your veins and resonating with your soul - Rex Lapis saw the potential in you to be a great warrior and designated you to serve him as one of the yakshas, so you obeyed, training your body and spirit to withstand the endless calamities you no doubt will have to face. One day, after a grueling training you almost gave up, but forced yourself past your limits. I must redeem myself and repay Rex Lapis, you thought, gritting your teeth and taking a battle stance again, and then a miracle happened: a blue glowing orb materialized in the air - a vision bestowed by the hydro archon.
Sometimes you still reminisce about this moment and recite the oath you gave back then - I pledge my life to the protection of the Liyue nation and the will of Geo Archon, Rex Lapis for all the centuries to come.
Soon, you ended your training and started to protect Liyue just like other four adeptis all of whom were also saved by the Geo Lord. For centuries you five defended the nation as it bloomed and grew into something that you couldn't even imagine. And even after centuries of slaughter as your karmic debt started to slowly eat you from inside, slowly, but surely devouring your sanity by the smallest pieces you always found strength to move forward by recalling your first meeting with Rex Lapis, reverence before your God and guilt before the dead driving you further and further.
With time a dull, yet constant pain made its way into your bones. Sometimes it would make your eyes fill with unshed tears, sometimes wake you up in those rare times you slept without nightmares, sometimes it made your hands tremble, almost dropping the weapon in the middle of the battle. You couldn’t suppress and endure it like Xiao does, letting out a pained whimper here and there, yet you still upheld your duty to the Liyue. It almost felt like routine, until two awful events happened: the death and defection.
The fear and hatred of all those who fell victims to your weapons were slowly seeping in your minds, driving you mad with bloodlust. It all happened so quickly: you were watching out for other demons as Bonanus and Pervases were patching up Alatus after the intense battle, while Bosacius looked at the other front, weapons ready, and then Bonanus lashed out, aiming for Xiao's neck. The anemo yaksha quickly darted to the side, but the weapon still grazed the copper bird's neck, his blood forming a quickly growing pool underneath. You had to put the bloodlusted yaksha yourself, something inside of you breaking as you did so - it was one thing to stand against hordes of demons and monsters and it was another to kill your friend.
You couldn’t talk or look into the eyes of the other two after that, despising yourself for yet another failure - first your forest, then your friends, you were helpless to save anyone. And then Bosacius left, you had no idea where he vanished, but these two events prompted Rex Lapis to visit both you and Xiao, as yakshas shrinked in numbers from five to two in less than a week.
You kneel before the Geo archon when you notice his tall figure between the ancient trees - unlike Xiao, you prefer to live in the woods, the familiarity of nature reminiscent of a home you once lost. Your Lord ushers you to stand up, his face solemn and grim.
“[First]”, he starts, exhaustion evident in each syllable: "For centuries you protected my Harbor, and despite turbulent times passing you still uphold your duty. I find that admirable".
Your eyes go wide and you turn your head, unable to receive such high praise from your God, you feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment, acknowledgement of your hard work, and even constant pain or the death and disappearance of your colleagues became less serious of the issue for a mere moment.
"I am not worthy of such praise, my lord, I am only doing my job, fulfilling the contract", you deflect, looking at him again. Archon's eyes crease a little and a small frown appears as you say "contract", yet he quickly wills his face into an impassive mask.
"I suppose I made a mistake when I asked you to be my yaksha back then, I have misjudged your worth ", he continues, voice becoming distant and strangely tense, as he reminisces about the days long past, amber eyes looking both at and through you.
"My lord, I…", you start and then stumble over the words, unsure what to say next. Is this his way of telling you that you're bad at your job? You cast your head down, eyes lowered in shame, hands that spilled adeptus' blood trembling and burning. "I am deeply sorry for letting you down in that way, I will do my best to redeem myself from now on” .
A warm hand touches your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in a comforting manner. His palm is warm and firm, comforting in its steadiness like a tall cliff standing proudly against the raging tides, indestructible and reliable.
"You have no reason to apologize for this. Something like this would inevitably happen sooner or later, you have no fault in the events that occured. I suppose karmic debt would drive one of you insane eventually".
He sounds calming, reassuring, like a parent soothing a child. You still don’t lift your head to meet his gaze - you’re too guilty and unworthy to do that. There are no words you can speak now, not when you have been so thoroughly destroyed by your lord’s kindness - how can he look at you and see someone innocent?
“No, I meant that all those centuries ago, when I first met you I didn’t discern the gem hidden in the crude ore” he adopts reminiscent tone again, his hand now moving on your shoulder in slow and steady rhythm: “I knew I wanted you to be by my side, I didn’t know who I wanted you to be though. I needed time to understand my own feelings and the way I viewed you, and then I needed some more time to accept those sentiments”.
“What sentiments, my lord?”, you ask, finally looking up to him, brows slightly frowned in confusion and curiosity - it’s rare to see the Geo archon talk about his inner workings so openly, as he usually prefers to keep a cordial distance or masterfully redirects the conversation into a completely different direction.
“Over the years, as you protected my nation and my people, I finally understood it”, his hand shifts from your shoulder and now he cups your own two palms in a firm yet gentle hold: “I cherish you, [First]”.
The sudden declaration leaves you stunned and speechless for a good minute: you look at your god with wide eyes, mouth opening several times like a fish out of water. A myriad of thoughts and feelings go through you: confusion, disbelief, inferiority.
“I… That is very sudden for me to… learn about your affections”, you finally utter, forgetting to add respectful “my lord” at the end. Your voice comes off as small and hesitant as you say so. Rex Lapis doesn’t seem to mind your confusion as he takes a second to collect his own thoughts.
“The yaksha title I have burdened you with takes a toll both on your mind and your body. I severely miscalculated, so I want to redeem this mistake”, he sounds regretful now, one hand moving to caress and cup your face. You go stiff, still overwhelmed by the whole conversation. “I can free you from your contract if you decide to become my life companion”.
“But, my lord, it’s so sudden I can’t just..”
“Hush, I won’t pressure you into an intimate relationship right away. No, we will wait and learn about each other and once you will be comfortable enough to let me enter your life and your heart we will marry, uniting our fates with a contract that shall never end”.
You lower your head again, but this time in contemplation instead of guilt and shame. What do you feel for Rex Lapis? Admiration - he is a powerful deity, capable enough to flatten mountains and raise new ones with a single slash of his spear. Gratitude - he was the one that saved you and sheltered you, until you grew strong enough, he gave you a reason to live when you had none. Respect - he is a capable leader, smart enough to build a foundation and guide people of the most magnificent nation in Teyvat.
You feel no love for him, not the kind of love he wants anyway. You know about his patience and how affections sometimes take years to finally mature and bloom, but the thought of spending decades, maybe even centuries in hopes that one day you will reciprocate is nauseating to you.
How do you feel about it? A part of you wants it - it’s an easy way out to get rid of the pain, of the fear and bloodshed, of the death that clings to you at every waking moment. You remember how you spend most of your nights sleepless, drowsiness leaving you the same second you dream of blood and carnage and massacre. You remember your whole body throbbing and burning on especially bad days, when even Remedium Tertiorum can’t do its job. You remember crying and gasping for air after the weight of the slaughtered gets too heavy for you to handle.
You almost say yes, out of these reasons alone, but you stop yourself - you think of Xiao, of how lonely he will become once you leave. You think of heartfelt smiles that mortals gift you with on those rare occasions you have to save them. You think of the slaughtered spirits before whom you still have to atone to.
“I am sorry, my lord” You look him straight in the eyes, bracing yourself for the words you are about to say: “I can’t match your feelings, nor can I accept your offer, not now at least”.
Amber eyes lose their warmth in the instance, the comforting aura he was exuding earlier replaced by the weird tension between you two. Looking at this image, you suddenly remember how ruthless Rex Lapis can be on the battlefield as for a fraction of the second he looks at you as you’re an enemy.
A horrible pain shoots right through your body, and your short scream follows. You fall on the floor, gasping for air, deaf and blind from the overwhelming pain. Geo archon quickly takes your form, carrying you to your sleeping place, as you try your best to breathe and not cry.
“It must be a blood pact acting up, the magic must have taken your refusal as disobedience to the contract”, he says once the agony lightens, enough for you to focus on the conversation, “you did pledge your life to my will”.
You try to half sit on your elbow, to look him in the eyes and say something other than the pained groans and whimpers, as his next words instill a sense of quiet dread in you:
“I hope you will rethink and take back your words out of your own volition, [First]. I would hate to order you to”.
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variousqueerthings · 3 years
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Daniel LaRusso: A Queer Feminine Fairytale Analysis Part Three of Three
(another massive, massive thank you to @mimsyaf​ )
part 1
part 2
8. Queerness and femininity and masculinity and the colour red and *record breaks*
If we spin the record aaalll the way back to this paragraph: “…looking at what it is girls and women in fairytales have/don’t have, what they want, and how they’re going to get it. It’s about power (lack of), sexuality (repressed, then liberated), and men.” Reading Daniel as a repressed, bisexual boy in a society that doesn’t accept his desires it’s interesting looking at how he moves through the world of the Miyagi-verse, at how threatened other men are by him, at how obsessed they are with him.
He’s out in the symbolic woods and these large boys and men see him and decide for whatever plot reasons to come for him. And they are large and violent and attractive and apart from Johnny again, they don’t have the nebulous excuse of fighting over a girl and even that excuse dies by around the midpoint when Johnny kisses Ali just to get a rise out of Daniel. He’s not trying to “win her back,” he’s not even really looking at her. He’s just trying to get a reaction. They don’t have any of the fighters in Rocky’s excuse either of Daniel being a macho opponent. 
You can read whatever subtext into TKK1 and TKK2 (which becomes especially tempting once CK confirmed that the guys he fought at seventeen have been thinking about him ever since – for thirty-five years), but TKK3 is where it’s really At in terms of obsession and lust and forbidden desires.
Silver is presented as both a handsome prince who saves Daniel and mentors him (where Miyagi is undoubtedly cast in a fatherhood role) and later on becomes twisted into a dark secret that Daniel has to keep, while he turns that thing that Daniel loves (karate, it’s… it’s karate… it’s also men, but it’s definitely karate, because karate makes him feel… things...) into an abusive, violent version of itself.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing.
But he’s also offering him something liberating. Whatever is going on in that nightclub scene is about something other than breaking Daniel down. Even the bloodied knuckles aren’t just about revenge. It’s about giving him something that he isn’t, in the end, willing to receive, at least not from Silver. In that roundabout, strange way of these feminine fairytales, it’s exploring hidden desires through the metaphor of karate.
Daniel wears red because it’s his colour. In the movies he wears red a lot. Often in scenes with violence in them (the beach/the hilltop in TKK1 and the date/the destruction of the dojo/the final fight in TKK2), but he also has a variety of shirts (and in TKK3 pants) that pop up all the way through the narrative. He wears a red jacket when he accepts Terry’s training, when he punches a guy in the face, and when he tries to get out of the training again (as badly as that goes).
Did anyone consciously think about red’s link to desire, obsession, and violence when they made these? Eh. But is it there symbolically? When he meets Johnny, when he fights Chozen, when he’s in emotionally fraught situations with Terry? Hell yeah.
Probably the most lust-and-violence infused red is that aforementioned punching-board-until-knuckles-bleed bit – not that I thought Terry was going to pull him in for a kiss, because I knew, logically, of course he wouldn’t right? There’s no way… is there? Or later on when Daniel punches that guy and ends up with blood all over his shirt and Terry once more grasps him, euphorically. Blood is violence. Blood is also desire. Red is Daniel’s colour, even though he doesn’t acknowledge it come Cobra Kai. (Maybe he just needs someone else - cough Johnny Lawrence cough - to inspire it in him again).
Daniel LaRusso’s narrative is exploring that most feminine of fairytale tropes: To want and be wanted by monsters and having to hide those desires.
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“Maybe this time that strange churning in my stomach that feels like a mix of anticipation and fear will turn out good for me.” - Daniel’s mind.
At the end of the story, Daniel saves himself, with all of the strange mixed narratives around it, and the acknowledgement that the end of The Karate Kid Part Three isn’t satisfying and its aftermath will likely be delved into in the next season of Cobra Kai.
Nevertheless, he saves himself. Not from Silver or Kreese or Barnes, and not entirely, but he makes a decision not to give in to fear (and he continues to try and live by that decision, making it over and over again for the next thirty-five years, even when the return of Cobra Kai makes that difficult for him). 
He doesn’t do it by being the strongest in the land or even through a lucky shot (although that too). He does it by refusing to be like the male antagonists that surround him, by telling them they have no power over him. The narrative isn’t just his getting lost in the forest and all the monsters he finds there, it’s about how he redefines power for himself within that forest. 
He’s a man who isn’t violent, whose victories include helping out a girl whose ex-boyfriend just broke her radio, successfully doing the moves to a cultural dance he’s trying to learn, sitting with his father figure while he cries over the death of his own father, telling a girl that she’s just made her first friend, and breathing a sigh of relief that a tree that got broken has healed. 
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Daniel LaRusso is a good boy is the point!
Karate is a metaphor. It can turn into many things: A series of lessons learned about how to be his own man and take care of his own house, a respect for the history of the father teaching him and sharing his home and story with him, fear, desire, masculinity (and the different forms that can take). 
When a tall, handsome stranger offers to teach him karate in the dark, without Daniel’s caretaker knowing how to help him, and twists that karate into something that hurts him - when he reclaims that, over and over, that means something too. 
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This man is fine and definitely isn’t carrying the weight of buried karate-based queer trauma - could a traumatised man do this? *stares blankly at a former tormentor as blood runs down his forehead*
9. In Conclusion Daniel Has Kissed Dudes… Symbolically… But We Can HC Literally:
So there’s Daniel and his coded feminine fairytale narrative. It’s all a series of fun coincidences.
1. Ralph Macchio is just Like That
2. Red. All the red. 
3. large portion of his storyline is about lack of power. Yes, he regains that power by the end of the first and second movie through A Fight, but generally he is framed as powerless opposite these almost monstrously physically powerful boys/men. And in the third one it’s barely even about physical prowess (he’d still lose a real fight against Barnes or Silver) and more about regaining lost autonomy off the back of a manipulative, abusive relationship with an older guy.
4. The third movie in particular is narratively a mess, but if reimagined as a fairytale makes a lot of sense (because it’s secretly all about how karate is bisexuality and Daniel gets manipulated through that desire to be better at karate).
5. Queerness and femininity and themes about hidden desires that can only be approached sideways through couching those desires in symbolism: Handshake meme.
6. The fact that the more I think about it, the more feral I am for a Labyrinth AU.
7. To sum up over 5000 words of text: The inherent homoeroticism of wanting to be slammed against a locker by a bully, but extended over three movies and ever-more inventive ways of hurting pretty-boy-Daniel-LaRusso.
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Johnny’s not going to be happy when he realises Daniel’s got other ex-rivals buried in his closet...
10. Some Other Stuff Aka The Laziest Referencing I’ll Ever Do
Further reading on trans Matrix
Further reading on masculinity and rape narrative in The Rape Of James Bond
Youtube Video from Pop Culture Detective (Sexual Assault Of Men Played For Laughs)
Some film/TV references in this: Dracula (Coppola), Princess Bride, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Labyrinth, The Matrix, Rocky, Princess And The Frog, Cinderella, Enchanted, Shape Of Water, Swamp Thing, Phantom of the Opera 
Some fairytale references: Red Riding Hood, Cinderella, The Wolf And The Seven Little Kids, Alice in Wonderland, Wizard of Oz, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Beauty and the Beast, Company of Wolves (Angela Carter), Through the Looking Glass, Princess Bride
Also referenced is Alison Bechdel’s graphic novel and the subsequent musical Funhome. Further thoughts on this by @thehours2002​ and @jenpsaki​:
https://thehours2002.tumblr.com/post/650033577171533824/daniel-larusso-and-fun-home-click-to-enlarge
https://jenpsaki.tumblr.com/post/650530225997971456/cobra-kai-fun-home-inspired-by-goldstargirls
My list of Cobra Kai meta posts
I wanted to delve into fairytale movies more, but then I was like “fuck, I have actual work to do,” but I was interested in the ways male and female characters are written in these stories:
The Last Unicorn, The Never-Ending Story, The Dark Crystal, Legend, and Stardust.
The Last Unicorn is an interesting one because she’s not really human, until she is. It’s more like The Little Mermaid (the fairytale, not the Disney film) in tone, and of course there’s a pretty substantiated rumour that Andersen wrote that one as a metaphor for falling in love with another man (who eventually got married). 
Andersen in general is just fun to analyse as someone who popularized so many fairytales and exists as an ambiguously queer historical figure – might’ve been modern-day gay, bi, ace, but we’re just not sure. All your favourite fairytales can be read through the lens of queer loneliness and ostracization. Just like horror.
Anyway I didn’t go into the whole Little-Mermaid-Last-Unicorn transformation bit so much as the Monstrous-Desires bit, but I think there could be something to that too, with monsters representing otherhood and all. Stardust is a kinda-almost-this, except she sticks to her human form and all is okey-dokey by the end, she’s allowed to marry the handsome man and be a star.
The Never-Ending Story has Atreyu and Bastian and because of a lack of female characters, an interesting bond between the two of them, but mainly Atreyu is absolutely a go-gettem Hero Type and it’s just interesting to see how Bastian relates to him as both an audience insert, but also eventually as his own character in that world.
The Dark Crystal contains certain… androgynous elements of feminine and masculine coded characteristics in the main character because of how he’s not human, but also they do have a “female” version of his species that he needs to go save (and bring back to life) by the end, so in a way it’s both more and less heteronormative in its characters.
Legend sees another example of a monster (literally called Darkness and looking like a traditional devil) trying to seduce a princess through promises of power, and she “goes along with it” in order to trick him and succeeds in that trick, but is ultimately saved by the male lead. 
In conclusion: I don’t even have Shrek in this.
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bookwyrminspiration · 2 years
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It's Nilnaea again. The depiction of dragons is also Council propaganda to keep the elves from being freaked out by the other types of dragons out there. No one wants to know that a lindworm could come bursting through the ground at any moment or that if they go into the ocean there could be a wyrm in there.
okay it has been several days but the depiction of dragons in kotlc is still bothering me so!! i fully accept this as canon instead of what Shannon did!! also hello again, Nilnaea !!
it has been a theme in keeper for shannon to take this creatures that humans have thought of as monstrous and horrifying or at least very big and intimidating (woolly mammoths, dinosaurs, alicorns) and just...kid-ify them. like make them fluffy and brainless and just exuberant dogs. everything is a dog in keeper, they're just built different. definitely appeals to a middle grade audience, but for the rest of us it's like...what have you done to my precious?? (my precious being scary monsters, because I love monsters)
but also the council hasn't been opposed to lying to the public before and just generally keeping really big secrets...so for my mental health I'm deciding that there are actually horrifying dragons of unbelievable intelligence and violence just living out in the wild and it's kept as a forgotten secret in someone's cache. What if it's hidden in Fintan's cache, something about dragons and pyrokinetics feels linked, for some reason. I think it would be interested if the current council didn't even know about the dragons, because not all councillors know the same secrets, so maybe the real dragons have been so suppressed and hushed that not even the current rulers know about them and they fully believe the same thing the public does about dragons.
just imagine a world where dragons are so feared that you had to make the entire population forget so that they would actually go about their daily lives without being afraid of the things out their. curiosity can very easily turn into fear. oo idea!! what if these dragons are the only creatures the elves couldn't get to become vegetarian and brainless/domestic, and that terrified them because they were supposed to be in control of the world and yet here it is defying them. and the realization that if one could resist than more could got bad enough that they all needed to forget about it.
one more thing! we know there are several graves in the wandering woods, but we don't know how old they are or how they died. i propose that the majority of or at least a good portion of those graves are from elves who were killed by dragons. the dead are often pushed from memory in elven society and their families aren't understood by everyone else, so if they became reclusive like the ruewens it would make it easier to make everyone forget about the dragons. and people don't visit the graveyard often, so they'd have no reason to question why those people died or even know who they are.
dragons!! I love them so much, if it isn't obvious from my whole aesthetic. shannon did them so dirty, but I absolute love the idea that it's just propaganda. might be my favorite explanation that still respects shannon's artistic choices while also acknowledging I don't really like those choices and am going to find a way around them that doesn't actually change the current story but makes me happy.
this is such a good idea!! I love it!! thank you so much!!
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myinconnelly1 · 3 years
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The Omega’s Curse 4 (final)
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Square Filled: one character worrying anxiously about another Ship: Geralt x OFC Rating : Explicit A/N: This is Part 3 of the Omega’s Curse By popular demand (like 3 people) Warnings: 18+ NSFW,  a/b/o dynamics, canon violence canon gore, purposeful scaring, branding (kinda), unplanned pregnancy, non-graphic labor, labor complications Summary: When a sheep farmer thinks his daughter is cursed, he pays the Witcher to help. Word Count: 1346 Created for @anyfandomgoesbingo.
Special thanks to @firefly-graphics for the Witcher themed Dividers!! Check her out the stuff is amazing!
It took 3 days to sort everything out with the sheepherder.  Sharra seemed to recover from the wounds quickly, the magic aiding in the healing and scarring of the glyph.  Geralt spent some time with Sharra explaining that the Ifrit was trapped in her skin, but was likely not to fight back since she was an omega.  He had heard of something like this happen once before and the Omega lived a full and happy life.
“A life that I hope you can have back,”  Geralt said before standing and taking the coin bag from Sharra’s father.  “Sorry about the chickens,”  Geralt said to the man as Sharra snorted and the Witcher left to get Roach splitting paths from the bard.
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“Geralt!”  Jaskier called as he saw the Witcher on the road several months later.
“Jaskier, who have you pissed off this time?”  Geralt smiled at the bard as he continued to walk, mostly uninterested.
“Not me pissing people off this time,”  Jaskier almost bragged.  “I thought you made a point to not go through the same towns?”
“It’s been a while since I’ve been through here.  I’m sure they won’t mind me passing on,”  Geralt shrugged.
“Oh, it’s been a while alright.  Actually, I was on my way to find you with some interesting news I gathered,”  The bard dangled the gossip in front of Geralt like a carrot.
“I am not interested in the gossip of your high light dandies and rich ladies,”  Geralt rolled his eyes.
“Oh no!  This is not about my life or the people that I spend time with.  Actually, it involves a very pretty Omega girl and a curse… Do you know anyone like that?”  Jaskier was literally shaking as he attempted to hold the news in.  Geralt gave in.
“Alright, yes.  Sharra, what about her?”  Geralt asked.
“OH, You remember her name?!”  The bard almost jumped up and down with excitement.  “Well, I heard that a certain Omega was with child.”  Geralt looked at Jaskier with a pained and dirty look.  “And she is due any day now,”  The bard wiggled his eyebrows.
“I’m sure she and the Butcher are quite happy then,”  Geralt growled lowly.  He didn’t know why he was so jealous about the entire thing.
“No, the Butcher moved to a different town,”  Jaskier side-eyed him.  “There seemed to be quite a scandal when he tried to offer to buy her with a cow and no chickens?”
“I hope there is a point to all of this, Bard,”  Geralt’s patience with games was at an end.  His feelings for the Omega being brought back up to the surface.  Feelings he could not acknowledge because Witcher’s weren’t good mates.
“She’s having your pup?”  Jaskier had stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the witcher.  “Are you that dense?”
“Witcher’s can’t have children,”  Geralt said with a deep-seated anger.
“Sure.  Geralt, you should go there.  Just see her,”  Jaskier said quietly.
“Fine,”  Geralt growled.  “Fuck.”
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“This village was much more pleasant without you,”  Jaskier whispered as they met the cold and angry stares of the town-folk.
“I imagine,”  Geralt said as he stabled Roach.  “I’m looking for Sharra, has she moved from her parent’s house?”  He asked the stable boy.  He seemed unable to speak to the witcher and simply pointed out of the barn to a house that was several houses away.
“How long ago were you here?”  Geralt asked as he walked with Jaskier toward the house.
“It was several days ago,”  Jaskier said as they got close and saw the sign for the town’s midwife.  Two young boys were playing in front of the house.
“Is your mother here?”  Geralt asked the older boy holding up a small coin.  The boy ran over to him to take it.
“She is busy with Sharra,”  the boy said inspecting the coin closely.  “You can’t go in.  No boys allowed,”  He said nodding to the other boy he was playing with.  A cry came from inside the house as if on cue.  Geralt restrained himself from rushing in to help his omega.
A thought occurred to him as the impulse to run to her side passed.  He brushed off the notion that she was his omega.  He hadn’t thought that before when they had fucked.
“Let’s get a drink.  We can wait them out,”  Jaskier pulled at Geralt’s arm subtly, and the Witcher noticed he had taken a rather aggressive stance.
“Witcher!?” An older man called as he walked into the bar.  Several people turned to look at the scene, as the sheepherder came over to the table Geralt and Jaskier were sitting at.  “You’ve killed my daughter, Witcher.”
“She was alive and well when we left,”  Jaskier said standing defensively for Geralt.
“The child you left in my daughter’s belly won’t come.  She’s been at it for almost two days.  The midwife says it’s likely neither of them will survive,”  Tears were flooding the older alpha’s eyes.
“It’s not my child,”  Geralt sighed.
“HORSESHIT!”  Sharra’s father roared.  “The butcher rejected her when she was well enough to visit him again.  She was already pregnant, and you know better than anyone else here that she was a virgin before you came to town.”
“I saved her life,”  Geralt said uncomfortably calm.
“The child trapped in her belly is proof otherwise!”  The sheepherder cried.
“Trap…”  Geralt mused as Jaskier shot him a look that told them they both understood.
Geralt stood and pushed past everyone in the bar running back to the midwife’s home.  Jaskier was slower getting past people but he was close behind.
“Look out, boy!”  Geralt called as the young boy they had talked to earlier dodged to the side of the crazed looking Witcher.  Sharra’s hoarse cries were still coming from inside the house, and Geralt followed them.
“Wait?!”  Jaskier cried out as he saw Geralt pull out his dagger when he entered the room that Sharra was in.  
“Geralt?”  She panted.  Her hair was wet with sweat and her clothing was mostly removed to make her as comfortable as possible.  The scars on her belly were clearly visible. Geralt caressed her cheek, as Jaskier blocked the midwife from stopping Geralt.  The Witcher cut a shallow line through his glyph carefully.
Energy surged threw the house in a tidal wave-like surge knocking everyone back, before reforming into the smoky, monstrous Ifrit.  Sharra yelped in surprise as her water broke, and the midwife coached her saying something about seeing the child’s head.  Jaskier got back up from the ground and saw the Witcher get the Ifrit’s attention to take it away from the women.
“Stay here and guard the door,”  Geralt said to Jaskier as he led the monster away from Sharra.
“WITCHER!”  The monster’s fire-crackle of a screech roared across the field in front of the midwife’s home.  The boys scattered to hide as Geralt readied himself to fight it.  “SHE’S MINE!”
“You won’t touch her again,”  Geralt growled.  “She’s mine,”  he said without a second thought.  Then fought the monster.
“Alpha!”  Sharra whined just as Geralt’s silver blade plunged through the smoke and it dissipated.  He ran back inside to his mate.
“I’m here,”  He cooed comfortingly as he knelt next to her.  Jaskier came over with the midwife and he clasped a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“It’s a boy,”  The midwife smiled in an exhausted yet genuine smile as she handed a small bundle to Sharra.
“What should we name your son, Witcher?”  Sharra sighed looking at the babe with relief.
“You choose.  You did all the hard work,”  Geralt teased her.  Jaskier stood and walked to the doorway.
“I shall write this beautiful chapter, and no one will believe it,”  Jaskier pouted.
“Why not?”  Sharra giggled tiredly, looking over the dramatic bard.
“No one will believe the White Wolf has a child!  Besides, I’m not sure fatherhood would suit you Geralt,”  he teased in mock disinterest.
“I think it would suit me just fine.  If you’ll have me,”  Geralt hummed against his mate's forehead.
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@waywardbaby @destielhoneybee @snffbeebee @deangirl7695 @spnbaby-67 @maddiepants @ladywinchester1967 @woodworthti666​ @miraclesoflove @tumbler-tidbits @emilyshurley @akshi8278​ @mannls​ @wendibird​ @bobasheebaby​  @chelsea072498​ @donnaintx​ @justsomedreaming​ @supernaturalenchanted​ @kalesrebellion​ @prettydeaneyes​ @emoryhemsworth​  @dontshootmespence​ @its-a-spn-thing​ @vicmc624​ @idreamofplaid​ @anaelsbrunette​  @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @wayward-mikaelson​ @electraphyng​ @mariekoukie6661​  @katelynw93​ @manawhaat​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​
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creative-type · 3 years
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wake from death (and return to life) ix
AO3 first summary:  Zoro had always been told Kuina died falling down a flight of stairs. But she didn’t fall, and she wasn’t dead.
.
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It took Kuina almost five minutes of dangling over the rails of the ship to realize there was no wind. She was punch-drunk and giddy, the weight of uncertainty rolled off of her shoulders now that she had a clear path forward. She was a Revolutionary. She was going to be the greatest swordsman in the world.
Kuina allowed herself those five minutes. With everything she’d gone through in the last week and a half she’d more than earned them, and it had been so long since she’d felt any real excitement for her future. But no swordsman worth their blade would let themselves get lost in childish emotionalism. Kuina steadied herself with a few deep breaths, mentally drawing in the flights of fancy that had momentarily escaped from her imagination—daydreams of facing Dracule Mihawk at the behest of the Revolution, of proving once and for all that she could do what so many thought impossible, of reuniting with her father and Zoro proudly bearing the title Greatest.  
It was like trying to wrangle a gaggle of unruly children. The more Kuina struggled to contain herself the more her imagination tried to run free, but she managed to settle back into the state of tranquil serenity that was more befitting of her training. The practical side of her, the part that quietly disapproved of this most recent turn of events, knew that now that she’d painted the broad strokes of her future it was high time to figure out what the hell Aria de Gris was doing now. It was then, and only then, that she noticed that the air was unnaturally still.
The sailors around her were not perturbed even as the Valor’s sails hung limp from their moorings. Kuina could feel that they were moving on the clear, mirror-flat sea. Slowly, but that was better than being dead in the water. Kuina wandered to the ship’s bow, noting that the Valor was sailing almost due south. If the Revolution had followed the same heading since leaving Tolouse, and Kuina had been unconscious for two full days, that meant…
“Don’t worry, we should be out of the Calm Belt by the end of the week.”
Kuina flinched, sword half-drawn before realizing it was only Dara using what had to be the most annoying Devil Fruit ability in the history of the world. Dara laughed as she popped out of the deck, hooking her thumbs in her pockets as Kuina shot her a glare.
But most of Kuina’s irritation was at herself for letting herself be caught by surprise, and she returned her attention back to the water. It was impossible to sail through the Calm Belt without some sort of engine, which the Valor lacked, to say nothing of the danger presented by the innumerable nests of sea kings that buffeted the Grand Line from the Four Blues.
Even as Kuina tried to wrap her mind around it, a dark shadow emerged from the depths directly in front of the ship. A high-pitched, eerie wail, almost like a siren’s song, reverberated through the air and deep into Kuina’s chest.
A monstrous head breached the surface so close to the Valor it sent rippling waves across its hull. Sprays of water jettisoned thirty feet into the air, exposing only part of a stripped, misshapen body before submerging once more. Great flukes, as large as a whale, but covered with algae-like strands of hair, slapped against the surface of the sea and sent sprays of salty water against the deck. Someone in the crow’s nest above whooped out a cry of encouragement.
Thoroughly confused, Kuina looked at Dara, whose grin only widened as she pointed to a tiny speck bobbing to the space recently vacated by the leviathan. “Oh look, there’s Cam. Someone should send a boat after her.”
“As if she’d take it!” a Revolutionary Kuina didn’t recognize shouted from across the deck.
“True,” Dara said contemplatively. Beckoning Kuina to follow, she meandered to the starboard side of the deck and loosened a rope ladder into the sea. “It’s probably faster to just let her swim.”
If Kuina hadn’t been so amazed by the fact Camille hadn’t gotten herself eaten, she would have marveled at the speed with which she cut through the unnaturally-still sea. Kuina considered herself a good enough swimmer, but Camille looked like she’d been born for the water. She moved like she was part fish, each stroke strong and graceful, returning to the Valor in moments. When she climbed back onto the decks she seemed sad to be there, looking back longingly at the water.
“So, how’s Fin?” Dara asked.
“Good, good. I adjusted the harness to fit more comfortably.” Camille arched an eyebrow at her friend while adjusting a leather thong around her neck, from which hung the biggest tooth Kuina had ever seen. “And his name isn’t Fin.”
“Well since you haven’t said what his name is, you’ve left me no choice but to improvise,” Dara retorted. She nudged Kuina in the ribs. “Can you believe she went through the effort of taming a sea king and then didn’t name it? ”
“You tamed a sea king?” Kuina said. “ How? ”
Camille rolled her eyes. “I didn’t tame anything. We’ve just...reached an understanding.” She gave Kuina an appraising look. “I’m surprised the doctor let you out of her grasp so soon.”
“She almost didn’t,” Kuina admitted.
Dara wrapped an arm around Kuina’s neck, ignoring the choked yelp of alarm and Kuina’s efforts to squirm free. “Forget about that! Did you hear, Kuina joined up. She’s officially one of the team!”
“I thought that was a given.” Camille said, utterly disinterested as she wrung the excess water from her shirt.
“When did you hear that?” Kuina said at the same time.
“Pfft, Dara knows pretty much everything on this ship,” Camille said. “You get used to it.”
Kuina frowned. She didn’t like the idea of someone with Dara’s ability nosing her way into business that wasn’t her own. If there was anything she’d learned since sailing with the Revolution, it was that there was very little in the way of privacy while at sea. Ships crowded everyone together, crewmates eating, sleeping, and working in close proximity. While the forced closeness had its advantages, Kuina was used to spending great blocks of time alone. It was something to get used to, and to be wary of.
“Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me,” Dara said, tweaking the end of Kuina’s nose. “You saved me from losing five hundred berries, and to Lizard of all people. I am at your service.”
It took Kuina a moment to remember Dara’s ill-thought wager with Elizabeth, and before she could voice her protest Dara had taken her by the arm to make official introductions to the crew, Camille laughing a half-step behind.
There was John the cooper, and James the blacksmith. Among the deckhands Kuina was introduced to rapid-fire were Kojo, Zhao, Lin, Char, Sean, Jen, and Tiva, and by the end of it she had gotten them so thoroughly confused with one another she had no idea which one was which. Others were working belowdecks, or off-shift and resting.
Elizabeth was still regretfully in charge of cooking duties, while Lyudmila was the ship’s quartermaster and second in command. Kuina was surprised to hear that in addition to taming sea kings in her spare time, Camille was the crew’s navigator.
“And what is it you do?” Kuina asked as Dara dragged her back below decks for the grand tour.
“Get newbs like you up to speed. Now here’s Trini’s room—try not to get stuck in here unless you want to spend the afternoon feeding lettuce to snails.”
Kuina blinked in amazement. The communications room was packed full of terrariums housing snail phones of every size and color. At its center was an enormous machine that looked vaguely like what the marines used to send their faxes, with thin cords attached to half a dozen den den mushi. Behind the machine sat Trini wearing an oversized pair of headphones, deep in concentration.
“She’s scanning the airwaves,” Dara said in an exaggerated whisper, carefully closing the door once more. “Not that there’s much to intercept in the Calm Belt, but you never know with the marines these days.”
“The marines can cross the Calm Belt?” Kuina said. “I can barely believe we’re crossing the Calm Belt!”
“It’s all thanks to Fin. Sea king bulls don’t typically fight with one another unless it’s mating season, so even if he’s pulling along a tasty treat we should be all right. I think his song has something to do with it, too.” She made an exaggerated gesture. “As for the marines, I have no freaking clue, but it must be a pretty new development since Boss doesn’t know about it, and the Valor isn’t sea-king proofed either.”
“That’s right, this was a marine ship,” Kuina murmured, looking up at the planks with fresh eyes. It was funny, without the marine’s distinctive painted hulls, she’d never would have been able to tell the difference.
“Oh, yeah. Came with all the amenities, which is how Trini got her state of the art snail room.”
“So if you guys had a sea king snuck up your sleeve this whole time, why didn’t you use it during the battle?” Kuina asked. “A monster that size would have been useful on Tolouse.”
“Ach, must everything be about fighting with you?” Dara said. “You must never have seen a real sea king, but Fin’s practically a baby, not even half-grown. And it’s surprisingly smart—for all my teasing, Cam was right. The thing has a mind of its own and acknowledges no master. I don’t think we could get him to attack a ship if we wanted to.”  
“But he’ll pull a ship through the Calm Belt?” Kuina said.
“It’s better than going the long way around, eh?” Dara said with a shrug. “Come on, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
At the barracks, Kuina had her choice of seven open bunks. One, which happened to be closest to the door, had a small crate propped on top of the thin mattress. Inside was stuffed with clothes and basic belongings. When Kuina looked askance at Dara the light in her eyes dimmed.
“That’s Danny’s stuff,” Dara said. “The rest who died already have their things stowed for when we get back to base, but as far as any of us know she doesn’t have any family so we’re not really sure what to do with hers. I’d say for you to take the clothes since you don’t have any, but I don’t think they’d fit.”
Kuina drew her fingers over the box, trying to think if she’d said anything about any family in their short time together, but all she remembered her mentioning was an apprenticeship under a cruel master. Kuina’s throat tightened as the memory of Danny screaming hysterically echoed in her mind unbidden.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Dara rubbed her neck uncomfortably. “It happens. I already told Boss when I bite it to sell all my stuff and use the money to have a party. If you all can’t be happy, at least you’ll be drunk.”
“I don’t drink,” Kuina said.
“Then you and Mila can be mopey together,” Dara said with determined cheerfulness. “It won’t matter to me, I’ll be dead. Now, where do you want to be? I’d be careful about that middle one there, it’s next to Lizard, and she snores terribly. ”
Kuina took the hint, and changed the subject, trying not to wonder how many of the bunks available to her had only emptied after the battle of Tolouse.
After the tour came lunch, and with two solid, if not especially tasty, meals under her belt, Kuina was beginning to feel more like herself again. The itch to train was back, and Kuina wanted nothing more to test the limits she’d recently expanded and chase after the high of battle, but much like her time on Belo Betty’s ship she was first subjected to the humiliation of being the newest and lowest-ranking sailor on a large and understaffed warship.
“You’re kind of shit at this, aren’t you?” Camille observed from her perch at the ship’s bow, watching as Kuina ran her mop over the deck for what felt like the hundredth time.
“You could help,” Kuina said.
“And deprive you of the opportunity to learn? Never.” She gave a long, catlike stretch. “By the way, you missed a spot.”
Kuina muttered an oath as she stabbed the mop into the bucket. “It isn’t as if it’s dirty.”
“Water expands and seals the wood, salt protects against rot.” Camille yawned, as if bored by the conversation, and wandered back to their useless rudder. As she passed Kuina, she said, “If you want to live in a drippy, softwooded ship, be my guest. As for me, I’d prefer not to die the first time a Grand Line squall hits.”
She left Kuina with her head bowed and cheeks burning. But the words had their intended effect and Kuina redoubled her efforts, determined from that point on that no one could in good conscience reprimand her sailcraft ever again.
It was nearing dark when de Gris and Lyudmila emerged from the captain’s quarters to call a meeting with the crew. After a long day of labor, Kuina’s muscles ached and she yearned for the sweet respite of bed. And it wasn’t as if the work had been taxing, especially after Clara Cross emerged from the infirmary like an avenging angel to tell off the entire crew, but especially Kuina, for overexerting herself.
There were some things not even Devil Fruit magic couldn’t sweep under the rug, and apparently the exhaustion of a near-death experience was one of them.
“All right everyone, gather round!” de Gris yelled. “Watchmen too! There aren’t any ships out here, and if the sea kings come after us we’re fucked anyway. I want everyone to hear this. Where’s Trini? She can leave the damn snails for ten minutes.”
The crew scrambled to obey the order. Kojo (or maybe Sean) went to gather those who were still belowdecks. Minutes later everyone was assembled in a loose circle around the main mast, with de Gris at the center. She paused a moment to ensure everyone was paying close attention, and under her stern gaze the idle chatter vanished into deathly silence.
Rays of dying light cast against de Gris’s back and framed her face in deep shadow. “I know you all have been wondering lately why the hell we were called to the East Blue so suddenly, and why we’re leaving just as quickly. I’ve heard you lot asking where our next destination was and wonder why I’ve not said where we’re going once we hit the Grand Line. Well, the answer’s simple. Until today, I didn’t know.”
From the folds of her coat, she pulled out an old and crumpled sheet of paper. Kuina squinted her eyes and was just able to make out the blurry picture of a masked figure. The bounty underneath, however, was clear as the sky above. Master-at-Arms Gemini, Wanted Dead or Alive. Bounty: B48,000,000.
Beside her, Dara snorted. “Oh, I bet the marine who thought up that name thought he was very clever.”
It was difficult to tell much from the photograph, but the one detail that was absolutely clear was Gemini’s strange, double-segmented arms, too long for an ordinary human and vaguely insectile. Kuina, who’d never seen anything like it before in her life, wondered what it would be like to fight someone who essentially had two elbows.
She brushed the thought away and turned to Gemini’s face. Their mask, fittingly enough, was divided vertically into halves, one dark and one light. The side that was dark was completely bereft of ornamentation; Kuina couldn’t even make out an eyehole to see out of. The side that was light, however, was painted with a garish grin. A shock of wiry black hair fell past their shoulders, but beyond that it was impossible to discern any identifying features. Baggy clothing and the poor quality of the photograph obscured anything else, even gender, and after spending this much time under de Gris's command, Kuina knew better than to assume.
“Gemini is a prominent figure in the criminal underground,” de Gris continued. “Arms dealing, drug trade, slavery, the whole lot. Removing them from the equation will make the world a safer place.”
“What’s an arms dealer got to do with the Revolution?” someone to Kuina’s right called. “And what have they got to do with the East Blue?” A murmur of agreement rippled through the crew.
“Enough!” de Gris bellowed, silencing them once more. “Tolouse's government were slavers, that much is now clear. They called it political exile to a labor camp, but the end result is the same—the World Government gave the king kickbacks for human chattel, using the Callihan Trading Company as a middleman. And we now now that the CTC was taking orders from Gemini. If Gemini is willing to go through so much effort to set up a scheme in some East Blue backwater, who knows what other fingers they have stuck into various pies around the world.”
“So we’re going after them,” Camille said, crossing her arms across her chest.
“That's right. So far Gemini has been able to stay one step ahead of us, but with the intel gathered on Tolouse we have the upper hand.” De Gris marched to the mast. In one smooth motion she drew a dagger hidden in her boot, and stabbed the bounty deep into the wood.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to Kyuka Island. In the days ahead I’ll be divvying out assignments. Any questions are to be directed toward Lyudmila or myself—out of an abundance of caution, you’re not to discuss your orders with anyone else on this ship. I’ll keelhaul anyone who tries.” At this her gaze went directly to Kuina, who got the impression these instructions were given strictly for her benefit. "Kyuka is marine territory through and through. I pray none of us fall into Government hands, but if we do, it's safest for the Revolution that each individual knows as little as possible about our plans."
After a pause, and hearing no objections, de Gris lit a cigarette for herself. “I’ll pay anyone who finds any intelligence on Gemini that leads to their capture or death the full value of their bounty. I’ll pay double to anyone who brings me their head. This chase has gone on long enough, I want this bastard dead. ” She flicked a bit of ash off the end of her cigarette and added, almost as an afterthought, “Dismissed.”
A gap in the circle opened to let de Gris through. As she passed, she grabbed Kuina by the shoulder. “Come on, greenhorn. It’s time we sort out your position on this ship.”
For the second time that day Kuina was led to the captain’s quarters. De Gris’s desk had been cleared away, the sea charts rolled back into their proper places and ashtrays emptied. Kuina slid back into a chair that smelled like tobacco. “What is it? Does the Revolution have Articles of Enlistment for me to sign? Is there a manifesto I’m supposed to study?”
“Don’t be stupid.” The sun had almost dipped below the horizon, and de Gris found a box of matches to light a kerosene lamp. The orange flame danced on its wick and flickered with the natural roll of the ship. “I’m told Dara gave you the runaround today.”
Kuina nodded.
“Clara never came screaming at me, so I have to assume you’re not feeling too poorly,” she mused, taking the time to light another cigarette.
“I’m fine,” Kuina said, rolling back her shoulders so de Gris couldn’t see the weariness in them.  
“And have you taken that sword out of its sheath even once today?”
“Uh...no?” Kuina said.
“Unacceptable.” De Gris leaned back in her chair and let out a long stream of smoke. “You’re not some swabby or rigging monkey, you’re here because of your blade.” She looked at Kuina as if she were an idiot for not realizing this sooner.
“I’m willing to work just as hard as anyone else on this ship,” Kuina said stiffly.
“And you will. Harder, even, since you’re so far behind. But a ship is like…” She gesticulated, trying to find the right word. “It’s like a person. A crew is its own organism, and every one of us has to fit into their part. You don’t expect a heart to do the same work as a kidney, and no matter how hard you try, you’re not going to be half the sailor as the people who’ve spent their whole lives on the water. It’s ridiculous to think otherwise.”
Kuina nodded. What she said made sense, and in many ways Kuina agreed with her. But there was something about agreeing with Aria de Gris that didn’t sit right with her, so she said, “I have to learn sometime.”
“Obviously. I’m not about to let you be a liability once we hit the Grand Line, but there has to be balance. You’re no good to me if you get yourself killed because you spent too much time studying the different types of sails instead of your swordsmanship.” De Gris was pensive for a moment. “I’ll have Mila set up a schedule for you in the morning. Half the day working chores, the rest training. A few of my men use katana, but you’re better than all of them. Most of what you’ll do will have to be self study.”
“That’s fine. I haven’t had a master in years.”
De Gris looked surprised to hear this, but didn’t comment. “We have regular sparing times as well, to help our less practiced fighters build their skill, and to give the mainliners a chance to get used to each other's styles. Depending on how this all shakes out, you might be pairing with Dara or Camille for the upcoming mission. Do you know how to use a gun?”
“Of course not,” Kuina said, caught off-guard by the question.
“Then you’ll learn.” De Gris cut off Kuina’s protests before they could begin. “Can you kill someone at twenty yards with your sword?”
“No,” Kuina said mulishly.
“Then you need to know how to fire a gun, and probably keep one on you as a backup weapon. I have no use for senseless pride on this ship, girl,” she said as Kuina scrunched her nose in distaste. It’s your job to listen to what I say, and it’s my job to try and put you in a position to not die. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Kuina said, still unhappy at the prospect of sullying her hands with a firearm.
Without warning, de Gris pounded her fist on her desk. The kerosine lamp tottered and threatened to fall, but her eyes never left Kuina’s, the scar on her cheek pulled taunt with her scowl.
“I said. Do. You. Understand ?”
“And I said yes, ” Kuina snapped. “I’ll learn to use you’re stupid gun, and when I figure out how to kill someone at fifty yards with my sword I’ll drop kick it into the ocean where it belongs." She crossed her arms across her chest. "I already told you I’ll do what you say so long as you don’t interfere with my ambition, so there’s no need to treat me like a child.”  
They glared at one another for a long while, hackles raised, but this time Kuina refused to let herself be intimidated into backing down. Slowly, still without breaking eye contact, de Gris eased back into her chair and doused her cigarette. “I have put too many people’s belongings into boxes because they wouldn’t listen. For your own sake, I hope you’re not one of them.”
For the second time that day, memory of Danny's last words echoed in her mind. “You’re in luck, because right now I don’t own enough stuff to fit into a box, let alone anyone to send it to.”
“No one at all?” de Gris said, eyebrows raising.
Kuina’s breath hitched as she thought of her father back at Shimotsuki village. Would the Revolutionary Army be able to return her meager belongings home without the marines knowing? Would he be able to stand knowing she’d joined Dragon’s cause despite all his warnings? What about Ipponmatsu? He at least wasn’t under suspicion by the World Government...Or was he, now that she’d attacked Tashigi?
Of everyone she knew, it was probably safest to give her belongings to Zoro , but gods only knew what part of the Grand Line he’d found himself in. She almost laughed at the thought of him using two of her swords for himself.
“No one,” Kuina said. Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging crescent moons into her palms, but she kept her voice calm and her tone even.
After another heartbeat of painful silence, de Gris said, “Well, you’re not the only one." The words were probably meant to be reassuring, but Kuina felt they were anything but. “If you think of anybody, make sure someone knows.”
“I don’t plan on dying,” Kuina said.
De Gris snorted and lit another cigarette. “None of us do. Now get some grub and get to bed. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”
Kuina rose to her feet. After a moment’s hesitation, she bowed slightly. “Thank you...Captain.”
De Gris waved her away with a dismissive flick of the wrist. “You don’t have to break your teeth saying it. I don’t give a damn what you call me so long as you follow orders. Just know I take discipline on this ship very seriously. Cross me, and keelhauling is the least you’ll have to worry about.”
Kuina didn’t doubt it for a second. Murmuring her goodbyes, she left de Gris to her cigarettes and her musings, grateful to be able to swallow the clean sea air once more.
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This post is a response to a reply I got on this post about Hades and Persephone HERE. It involves a LOT of discussion of rape as it applies to the myth, so massive Trigger Warning for Rape.
princess-nazario:
I'm not directly against modern retellings where Hades and Persephones relationship is consensual and could be about escaping toxic motherhood. Many people suffer overprotective/narcissistic mothers today, I think it has a good message- and besides, nobody really wants to hear a story about a girl being kidnapped and raped against her will.
But I hate when people try to say that this consensual version was actually the original myth all along and is ~cool~ and ~feminist~. I hate when people say Hades and Persephone are the most healthy, loving couple in all greek mythology when there are plenty of other underrated couples and figures out there.
I hate it when people try to write off Persephone trauma and allegory for the horrible things young girls had to go through in ancient Greece as "weak" or "unfeminist" labeling female solidarity of trauma and misogyny as "weak" is the exact opposite of feminist.
Like there are plenty of abuse victims out there there are also rape victims, victims of abduction, victims of misogyny all throughout history and today in the modern world. By writing off the pain and suffering of a protagonist who is a victim of rape you are disrespecting and victim-blaming all of these people.
Persephone meant something for all of these victims and survivors knowing that even the goddesses had to go through the things they went through. That even a victim of rape and abduction can still rise as a queen and a goddess, that even after she was raped her story was not done, and although she now has to spend half of the year with her rapist she also gets to see her mother.
In most greek weddings young girls are now apart of their husbands family and never get to see their mothers again. I'd love to see a Persephone retelling that maybe doesn't woobify Hades for once, or show Demeter's perspective and truly explore Persephones experiences in her point of view and shows her rise to power other than just "she was scared at first but now she loves hades and its okay!!"
Was she homesick? How did she adapt to her situation? Did she resent Hades for what he did to her even though he thinks he didnt do anything wrong? Did Hecate help her even though she was scared? How did she feel about being treated like a object or trophy? At what point did she go from a scared little girl to the Dread Queen of the Underworld?
I'm not saying the original versions of the myth where Persephone was kidnapped and raped are peak feminist and great for women, after all this was a culture that gave little voice to women- but what I am saying is that we shouldn't erase or ignore women's trauma and female solidarity for some dull romance story.
You can write a story about Demeter being a toxic mother and Hades/Persephone as consensual, Persephone perhaps being an idea of women's self discovery and independence and agency- but do not forget or refuse to acknowledge the misogynistic and non-consensual traumas of women this tale is allegorical too as well. Do not label THEIR traumas as weak or feminist.
@princess-nazario I’m not sure why you sent me this in a reply, I thought maybe you might be new to tumblr so just so you know, when you have a large response like this typically you start a conversation through reblogging rather than replying. If you had other reasons for it being reply-specific, I’m making the decision to respond as a post because this subject is really important to me and you’ve touched on something that I felt needed an open response.
So, to start with, I have to tell you that I believe you did not actually understand the context I was coming from with the original post. To be fair to you, I think this is a topic that has a lot of missing context, especially for younger people who A) may not have the same educational background (formal or otherwise) or familiarity with the subject or B) have not been around literary circles or fandom long enough to be familiar with what these kinds of archetypes have meant to women in those spaces. When I wrote the original post, I was kind of speaking specifically to an audience that I know is already familiar with these things.
So, while I think it’s perfectly valid for you as an individual to view Hades and Persephone through the very specific lens you’ve painted it, It is probably not completely accurate to what the original myth was about and is in fact in my opinion it’s own form of feminist revision of an ancient tale. Personally, I view this kind of take as part of the problem I was expressing in the original post, just from the opposite perspective. If that upsets you I hope you’ll please at least bear with me to get where I’m coming from with this.
Hades and Persephone comes from a culture in which rape was extremely normalized in comparison to ours. According to my historian partner, when soldiers conquered people/sacked a city they would rape en masse and this was not considered a war crime. Marriage involved rape via social coercion and likely via physical violence anyway. Whether or not rape was considered wrong had a lot to do with the status of the perpetrator and the victim, i.e. if a highborn woman was raped by a poor man, he was a criminal. But if a highborn man raped a poor woman, it would be fine. A serial rapist in a small community would probably get his head chopped off. While it’s not impossible that women told this story to process their trauma, it should be noted that this myth existed in a society where men were the dominant voices and they were pretty much cool with rape.
What happens in the myth is more representative of what marriage actually looked like for girls (and their mothers) of that time period, and was meant as a way to explain the changing of the seasons. When you hear the phrase “The Rape of Persephone,” it’s relevant to mention that the phrasing of “rape” is both a more modern interpretation of the story than the ancients (as in it’s a phrase from the last few hundred years, to my knowledge), and by today’s standards an older use of the term. “Rape” does not always refer to sexual rape, and in this case was specifically referring to the kidnapping aspect. Could literal sexual rape have happened? Maybe, in the context of how arranged marriages like this often involved coercive rape. But it’s worth noting that when Zeus rapes women, it’s never ambiguous like this, it just is a thing that happens and there are no euphemisms about it, no “fade to black”.
 Either way it’s kind of a moot point. To say that Hades and Persephone specifically was intended as a tale about an evil man raping a young girl  and was intended for girls to process that trauma ultimately isolates it from it’s context within all the other stories of the greek pantheon, in which rape happens all of the time and is normalized - let alone the actual culture it came from. It’s honestly viewing an ancient culture through a modern Christian framework, where the “god of the underworld” is akin to the monstrous devil.
Could women of the time have used it to process their trauma regardless? It’s possible, but I digress.
My point is, there are two extremes on the table here. Either a revisionist tale of Perspehone in which she willingly chooses hades and they have a tumblr approved sweet and pure relationship, or a revisionist tale in which Hades is the quintessential representation of a rapist and Persephone’s story is entirely about overcoming her rape trauma. 
Neither of which are true, and neither of which appeal to me. Again, if either appeal to you or anyone else is fine, but my original post was rooted in my frustrations with girls on tumblr who are unfamiliar with the very complex contexts of both the myths and of feminist reimagining that came before the time of tumblr.
It would be more accurate to say that what I was speaking of in the original post is how girls on tumblr have erased the complex power struggle inherent to the literary trope of the Demon Lover (think “Phantom of the Opera”). You can see this trope in many subgenres, including Gothic Romance and the current Monster Boyfriend trend.
Again, it’s very important here to understand that I am talking about allegories. Not literal people perpetrating literal power struggles or violence or having literal relationships, toxic or otherwise.
The trope of the Demon Lover in women’s fiction is often a framework about a woman struggling between the precipice of her own desires vs the patriarchy. He is often framed as an outsider to the normal patriarchy but a being who has the power to move within it, often more so than the average man. He embodies both the allure and danger of masculinity simultaniously. Often there is a solidarity between the heroine and the Demon Lover, because they have something spiritual/emotional which binds them. They exist in solidarity above the social expectations of women’s lives. And yet there is often a power struggle in that narrative, where the heroine must find her own power in balance with the Demon Lover.
In a lot of cases where the Demon Lover is written by men (aka many of the pop culturally significant iterations that women in fandom tend to love), he is indeed portrayed as purely a monster, or whatever temptation he represented is treated as something the woman must ultimately reject and return to social expectations of how she should behave and what she should desire. (Hence why you have so many women in fandom who like to reimagine these dynamics ending with romance).
In effect, the Demon Lover takes on a role for the heroines exploration of her own power in contrast to patriarchal expectations about her role in society and what her sexual and romantic desires should look like.
For a long time, this is how a lot of feminists viewed Hades and Persephone, the Demon Lover trope, and created art based on it. This too is a modern feminist reimagining of the tale.
However, what I see happening on tumblr is a refusal to engage with anything that complex. Instead, what a lot of girls are doing is forcing both Hades/Persephone and any other story which falls under the “Demon Lover” trope (Phantom, Labyrinth, etc.) to be categorized in boxes that fit “purity” sensibilities and are ultimately often embody an unwillingness to engage in challenging, complicated material that doesn’t appeal to black and white thinking. Either Persephone was never in danger because Hades was an uwu soft boy, or Persephone was always threatened by this terrible monstrous abuser and exploration of her reciprocation is wrong. 
Personally, I feel this kind of compartmentalizing robs the Demon Lover trope of what makes it compelling and valuable in the first place. It enforces this idea that all depictions of relationships in fiction have to adhere to one specific sensibility of what real world relationships should look like or else be condemned as morally inferior, which is absolutely not the point of the Demon Lover trope and is unfair to the rich history, feminist and less so, that still lives within it. We can do better.
As far as how this story impacts rape survivors, I want to point out that you have absolutely no clue what the people who enjoy Persephone’s tale as a romantic one have endured. Many of them whom I know are indeed rape survivors. Many of them, including myself, are victims of male on female abuse, or otherwise have trauma around the subject of male/female relationships. There are multitudes of ways that women with trauma have long since used the Demon Lover trope to process trauma, and I’m honestly quite tired of the way people on tumblr compartmentalize things in such a way that there is a built-in shame surrounding this subject that many women, including myself, have been trained over the past several years to feel about it. There’s a whole aspect to this that is connected with Twilight and 50 Shades (which are very poor renditions of the Demon Lover trope) and how we as a culture responded to these stories, and how much that has poisoned the ~discourse~.
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shinneth · 4 years
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So... the way Steven Universe Future ended. As its own season, as a story, as a franchise, ended.
I don’t think I can make a comprehensive list of all my thoughts on the finale in one post, so bear with me. I’m also not gonna be all that extensive with everything that happened because... well, plenty of others covered this stuff better than I will.
But I’ve got some things to get off my chest before I can get myself to write. also never got to play one piece pirate warriors 4 because it refuses to acknowledge my controller so no stress relief pre-finale for me
So... I’ll anticipate at least some degree of backlash, depending on how many people read this.
I don’t think the finale was bad. But I don’t think it was good, either.
It hit pretty much all the cliche notes I expected it to. While that’s not always a bad thing, there is one event that pretty much embodies what I did not want to happen more than anything else. And it’s a scene everyone really really loves. So... here we go.
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I hated everything about this scene.
What I hoped wouldn’t happen, above ALL ELSE, was for Connie to be glorified to the extent where she basically makes all the gems collectively come off as incompetent and dumb by comparison. 
They not only did that, but they made goddamn sure to put in the visual effects that she is the light of hope and everyone’s goddamn fucking savior because only she knows the full extent of Steven’s pain.
No, she isn’t.
I haven’t been a fan of most of the gems being written to be excessively dense in general during SUF, but this entire time, I couldn’t help but notice that Peridot, Lapis, and Bismuth weren’t blubbering about how they fucked up with Steven.
That makes sense. NONE OF THEM fucked up with Steven this season!
In fact, Peridot in particular witnessed Steven’s internal struggles not that long ago. Peridot resolved her misunderstanding with Steven in In Dreams, and for once Steven remained HAPPY at the end of a SUF episode! 
So.... what I’m saying is:
I’m not against Connie being part of raising morale and getting the group to get their shit together in concept. 
I AM against the concept of Connie being the only one to do this.
This would have been so much more powerful if we had Connie, Bismuth, Lapis, AND Peridot doing this speech together! As I said, none of the aforementioned gems were wallowing in a pity party.
And I felt so insulted when Connie basically grouped them together with the sadsacks anyway.
Brushed to the side, just so Connie alone can be portrayed as the true remedy for Steven’s monstrous form. 
Of all the times for the writers to go “fuck continuity”, I think this is a moment where it actively pissed me off the most. 
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I’ve said before that I don’t think the fanbase really acknowledges how human Peridot especially has become over time. She’s adapted to Earth life, Earth culture, and Earth society better than most other gems - including the ones who’ve lived there thousands of years longer than her.
I did personally love that Steven gave Peridot one of his old shirts, telling her to “be the Steven you want to see”. 
Honestly, I think Peridot’s done her best to live by Steven’s example ever since her redemption arc. I fully believe her investment in befriending Lapis and endearing her to Earth was inspired by how Steven went to great lengths to help Peridot adjust to Earth life.
So in Steven’s absence in Beach City and Little Homeworld, Peridot has basically taken the mantle of “Steven”. And she’s the best candidate for that position, by far.
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And not too long ago, I thought of the coolest thing: what if Steven doesn’t necessarily need a human to get back in touch with his human side?
Wouldn’t it be fantastic if the one who helped rebuild a broken Steven was a gem who he did the same for in the past? A gem, who Steven helped learn to embrace the human spirit, returning the favor? That would’ve been amazing.
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But sure, let’s just have this BS instead.
Because even if I shipped Connverse, I would say this afflicts the ship with the dreaded conditional foundation.
I said in the past I’d gain mad respect for Connie if she stuck to her guns and just kept things professional with Steven. She handled the rejection as well as anyone could, because Steven was an idiot through-and-through with his proposal attempt. Considering the circumstances, this is not the time nor place for a relationship when Connie has plans and goals for becoming the person she wants to be. Especially when Steven’s so mentally unhinged; he shouldn’t be in any kind of relationship until he sorts his shit out.
But nope! Connie backpedals, gives Steven exactly what he wants (well, not a “yes I’ll marry you”, but the kiss thing is close enough, imo), and now that cures him.
I mean yeah, I know it was a collective effort with all the gems, but...
I earnestly believe this scene would have been just as powerful if Connie just fucking hugged him like everyone else.
Speaking of that group effort...
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I can’t believe nobody has brought this up...
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I AM MY MONSTER’S RESOLUTION IS LITERALLY IN DREAM’S RESOLUTION - ONLY WITH HIGHER STAKES AND MORE PEOPLE
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OKAY? IT TOTALLY FUCKING IS
And that’s why I say In Dreams is still the best SUF episode overall, by far.
But hey, way to make that whole affair a red herring just so Connie can look super mega cool, right? 
So yeah, that’s the story of my least-favorite part of SUF’s finale and how the CG B-Team, Peridot especially, got robbed.
Guess I’ll end that here. Other parts of the finale rubbed me the wrong way, but with all the Connie worship I’m seeing around me lately, I just had to get this off my chest.
Because I couldn’t get my controller to work with a game to let me beat up thousands of grunts to let off my steam, you see.
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project-ohagi · 4 years
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Tamaki Amajiki x Reader
Buy me a coffee!! <3
----
(Y/n) -
I love your cute smile.
I love your amazing laugh.
I love your silly jokes.
I love the way you make me feel - all warm and tingly inside.
I love that we have similar interests.
I love looking through your pictures.
I love smiling to myself when I think about you.
I love how enthusiastic I am to talk about you.
I love how dedicated I am to you.
I love the idea that we could be something more.
I love you, inside and out.
Tamaki's pale, pointy ears twitched nervously. The note he had written (after around seven failed drafts), conveyed almost all his feelings, but it still couldn't quite capture the real essence of his love. You seemed way out of his league - unbelievably pretty, sweet and kind, popular with students and staff alike. He always felt dejected, never hopeful, but his best friend (the exasperatingly energetic Mirio Togata) finally managed to convince the timid elf to let his emotions bleed on to paper. Tamaki wasn't about to let you find it, however, relinquishing any chance he might have had with you. Opening and closing his butterfly-embellished A5 notebook, an expression of utter embarrassment plastered on to his features, he made a point to sigh loudly. Thankfully, this didn't attract any unwanted attention, since he was currently alone in the classroom. Not even Mirio was eating with him today, which he thought odd, but perhaps the outgoing, bubbly boy had ultimately admitted defeat - Tamaki was surely a lost cause.
His Sasuke-esque indigo locks ghosted the notebook as he lowered his head, bashing it lightly on the table. How stupid could he be? Why would he even bother writing out something so humiliating? What if you did get hold of it? You might make fun of his feelings, although this stabbing sensation in his gut told him otherwise.
"But," He started, voice trembling like white noise. "T-This is my first love...if she rejects me, that will confirm I'm worthless, right? Not worthy of being a hero - not even a human being. I might as well be a potato, but I probably wouldn't be a good potato; I'd be the kind of deformed potato that gets thrown away before it can be sold. A worthless potato..."
Someone laughed a monstrous laugh, startling Tamaki out of his seat.
"You really like potatoes, huh Tamaki?"
"M-Mirio..."
Tamaki placed a hand over his clothed chest, feeling the vicious vibrations of his heart, pounding against his rib-cage in an effort to be released. Where would it run to, he wondered. The answer was blindingly obvious, yet he chose not to believe it. Surely you wouldn't accept the invitation into his deepest, darkest parts, where the monsters burrowed and the beastly thoughts dwelled...Who was he kidding? There was nothing cool or mysterious, extraordinary or interesting about him. That would likely be the reason for your distance. Tamaki's head hung low as he processed this, a frigid air seeming to hang around him alone. Other than the righteous blonde who stood before him, Tamaki was always alone. He always had been, and figured that he always would. Some things were simply destined never to change; they remained the same regardless of time or events. If the two of you weren't meant to be together, the universe would soon tell him definitively.
That smiling mass of muscle noticed his friend's dismay rather quickly.
"Let me guess - is it (Y/n)?"
Hoping that a hole in the ground would suddenly appear to swallow him up, Tamaki only nodded. He was afraid that the more he spoke of his love, the more his voice would break. It was a secluded classroom for now, sure, but the door was slightly ajar, and anyone could walk past. This image alone made him quiver on the spot.
"Haha! Why are you on the ground, Tamaki? I'm sure if you just tell her, everything will go your way!" Mirio beamed, although he didn't manage to instil much confidence in the indigo-haired boy.
Tamaki shielded his eyes. "Too bright..." He mumbled, but Mirio seemed not to hear him.
Instead, he resumed his monologue: "(Y/n) is really nice, so she'd never let you down! D'you remember that time she stayed after school with you to help tidy up, even though it wasn't her turn? Or what about when that guy tried to play a prank on you in our second year, and she stopped him? She was so badass, and I'm sure she likes you back! Why wouldn't she?"
"Because..." Tamaki stammered, almost incoherently. "I'm nothing compared to her. She's so amazing, and I'm...just me."
"Maybe she likes 'just you'!" The blonde pressed, desperate for his friend not to fall deeper into despair.
Tamaki shook his head, signalling his complete denial - it was too convenient to ever come true.
Soon, the bell echoed across UA, and students rushed in for their next class. Tamaki took his place once again, that always-present, gloomy aura repelling everyone. Almost everyone. Your seat was directly next to his, and he had yet to realise, but you were slowly moving your desk closer to his. Midnight made her entrance, and the lesson began. You spared a few glances to the side, gauging Tamaki's current mood. Mirio was seated a couple of desks away, but he made a sort of bird-call-like gesture to you. Midnight didn't notice, but some of your classmates sniggered. Mirio pointed to Tamaki. His notebook had been haphazardly tucked away under a pile of books and stationary, but you could see a beautiful blue butterfly - an Adonis Blue, and a male at that. A smile enveloped your face, as you wondered what secrets were buried within the pages.
Glancing back towards Mirio, you saw him nod. Not two seconds later, he stood up to brag about a presentation he had done for homework. It was bound to be awful, but you appreciated the signal; it was a distraction, to ensure that you could swipe the notebook without getting caught. It worked, and soon enough, it was splayed out on your desk, a range of colourful butterflies appearing to stare up at you. Tamaki still hadn't acknowledged the theft, so you decided to read. This was okay...right? After all, if it was something Mirio wanted you to examine, then it must be important, and it definitely involved you. Mirio wasn't the type to be cruel to his friends. You turned the cover, and started to flick through. You frowned - what was going on? Gazing towards the boisterous blonde, you shot him a quizzical look. While everyone was concentrating on Midnight, he mouthed a singular word: poem.
You tried again, and this time, you found exactly what you were looking for.
(Y/n) -
I love your cute smile.
I love your amazing laugh.
I love your silly jokes.
I love the way you make me feel - all warm and tingly inside.
I love that we have similar interests.
I love looking through your pictures.
I love smiling to myself when I think about you.
I love how enthusiastic I am to talk about you.
I love how dedicated I am to you.
I love the idea that we could be something more.
I love you, inside and out.
Tears were welling in your eyes, but you refused to wet the page. This was such a heartfelt confession. You dried your eyes, determined to write a tribute to love more eloquent than Tamaki's. However, your mission was a disaster. Words abandoned you and there was only one thought swirling around in the vast potion of your mind. So, taking a deep breath, you inked it on to the paper, watching your simple phrase manifest with pride.
Tamaki, I love you more than you will ever know.
[Word Count: 1306]
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the-oak-owl · 3 years
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Submitted by @merleyfox
A story of mine, that I would like a stew from! It’s pretty long, and I apologize for that, but I hope you enjoy!
Bushes cracked and swished, almost like angry claws tearing at the young woman’s clothing. Each swish of the leaves whispered in her ears
“You won’t outrun him”
“He sees all.”
“You know you won’t escape.”
She pushed herself to run faster, not caring where she ran, as long as it was far away from her pursuers.
The sky was dark and eerily silent, each cracking branch like a gunshot.
Then the howling started up.
The howling began behind her, urging her to run faster, her breath coming in ragged pants. Like echoes, howls came on either side of her.
She wasn’t running away, they were forcing her to go where they pleased.
The young woman skidded to a halt, pale eyes wide as she searched the forest around her. Her long blonde hair hung limp with sweat, ragged, torn from the clawing branches. The howling was getting closer on all sides.
They were already here.
The wolves were silent, almost as if their paws were floating above the earth, as they pushed through the foliage. Their slavering jaws hung open as they began to mill around her, close enough for her to feel their ugly breath, but they never touched her.
The young woman clasped her arms around herself, crying out in prayer.
“Creator, I fear for everything I’ve done. If I am saved from this horrid death, I will never break your laws again.” She paused, a sob breaking from her throat as she watched the wolves. She squeezed her eyes shut, raising her voice.
“Deliver me into the hands of the Creator, oh wicked Fiends!”
As if commanded the wolves leaped upon one another, piling one on top of the other in a horrible tower of fur, silent as they devoured and smothered each other.
Her eyes flew open and the woman leaped backwards in fear. She fell back to the ground, scrabbling back through the frosty grass away from the writhing mass of wolves.
In a heartbeat the pile of gray bodies cleared away, like a dirty fog, and He rose.
Three times larger than any of the wolves that had been there a moment ago, the great wolf stood on his hind legs, his long grey-green tail wagging stiffly, and his face...
Her gaze traveled to his face, what she saw there caused her to cry out and tear her eyes away from his terrible visage. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, willing the monster to leave her.
His muzzle was split in a grin, teeth pulled back to show his dripping fangs. Above his sickening smile, more than enough eyes glared back at her, gleaming a terrible gold.
This was the Five-Eyed Wolf.
“Well, well, well. It seems you can’t run forever, my dear.” His voice was deep and deceptively smooth. “You do know that your actions have consequences, hmm?”
The woman kept her eyes shut tightly as she spoke. “I.. I’m sorry! I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to break your rules.”
“You just can’t stop, can you? You may want to think of what you’re doing.” He paused, golden eyes set on her like a helpless dove. “Let me give you a hint… It is rude not to look at someone while they are talking to you.”
The woman’s eyes ripped open, flying to the wolf’s face, trying to focus on him and not make contact with any of his eyes.
“This town is very strict on the Rules of Civility, and you madame were not being very civil. If you can’t seem to remember, let’s take a look back at it, shall we?” The wolf took a few steps forward, and seated himself gingerly beside the woman. Using one huge paw he reached towards her.
“May I?”
She hesitated, eyes wide and fearful. Not wanting to anger him any longer, she managing a shaky nod.
The wolf touched his paw to the side of her head. As soon as he did, the scene of their first meeting played like a movie infront of them.
~
The sea wind gently puffed the docked ship's sails. The salty warm air seemed to hug the people as they went about the festivities of the day. On the large docks, people waved their hats and kerchiefs to the men, women and children who departed from the bellies of the docked ships.
One of the people coming off of the ships was a young woman, eyes and hair pale. This woman was Jezzabelle. Dressed in dark green finery, she wore the outfit of a merchant’s daughter.
The young lady retrieved her things, a small wagon piled high with luggage, from a ruddy shipworker, dismissing him without much more than a click of her tongue. As she left the docks she made her way deeper into the town, wheeling her cart behind her, heading towards the place she would stay alone for the next few days.
Jezzabelle made her way through the winding roads, eyes flicking up to the wobbly buildings, face pinched unpleasantly. She was glad she was heading for the nicer end of town, further away from the salty water that wore away paint and shape, happy her father hadn’t boarded her in any of the buildings portside, all of them in need of a fresh layer of paint.
After a ways of walking Jezzabelle noticed a boy, who couldn't be much older than her, about seventeen, walking on the other side of the street. She frowned, not having noticed him before, as if he materialized out of the shadows cast by the afternoon sun.
The boy was wearing scrappy clothing, pants patched at the knees and shirt at the elbows. He wore a crooked flat cap on top of his ruffled hair, which lingered somewhere between green and gray.
He whistled as he walked, glancing fondly at the tall buildings. His eyes wandered down the building before landing on Jezzabelle. He paused in his whistling to raise a hand in greeting..
She cast a glance at him, and tipped her head. Her gaze flicked pointedly away, and she marched on like she had never seen him in the first place.
With her acknowledgement the boy crossed the street, and settled into pace beside her. “Hello Miss.” He said with a tip of his flat top hat, hands adorned in thin gloves patched much like his other clothes. “How are you doing on this fine day?”
Jezzabelle gave the boy a soft hum, not turning her eyes towards him. She had interacted with his kind too many times.
The boy’s lips turned down at the corner, and yet he continued. “My name is Lupin.” He offered.
Jezzabelle once more, didn’t give an answer, this time not even deaming to look at the boy.
His lips once more twisted down. “And you are?”
Jezzabelle heaved a sigh and frowned. She stopped in her tracks and whipped around.
“Alright, streetrat.” She pointed a neatly manicured finger at him. “I didn’t come here to be harrassed by some kid. Now go try to steal money off some other traveler.”
Lupin didn’t react, eyes flicking from Jezzabelle’s face to the finger she had stuck in his chest. His expression darkened, and he furrowed his brow. He took a step back from the angry woman, straightening his tattered coat front. “If you don’t mind me saying, Miss, that was rather rude. And if you don’t mind, I’ll now take my leave.”
“Yes, get out of here, you slightfinger.”
Lupin then turned, and disappeared just as he had shown up, melding into the shadows. It was like he had never been there at all.
Jezzabelle huffed, happy to be alone once more and went on unbothered, finding the hotel her father had booked her quite easily. She received her room key and left her baggage with the rather surprised desk-woman, telling her that it would be returned to her room after washing.
“These people,” She murmured to herself as she mounted the stairs. “Is the entire town full of fools and thieves?”
She went to sleep early, turning in after a long week of traveling, happy to finally have a bed on sturdy ground again. The desk-woman still hadn’t returned her things by the time she had turned out the light, leaving an irritated Jezzabelle to sleep in her traveling clothes.
The silent night air was broken by a knock on her door. Jezzabelle awoke with a groan, sitting up in the bed. “Who is it?” She called, voice bleary with sleep.
Whoever was on the other side of the door knocked again, and she tore back the covers, padding to the door. “If that is you, desk-woman, with my clothing I will not be very-” she opened the door, mouth dropping open. It was Him.
The Five-Eyed Wolf stood there, face set.
Instantly she knew this creature had been the street rat she met earlier.
“Hello Miss,” He said, “Would you care to accompany me to tea?”
“T-Tea? At night? No, I think not. Goodbye now.” Jezzabelle’s face had gone deathly pale, eyes locked on the monstrous face of the wolf.
“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s horrible rude to stare?” His lips curled back, all five eyes narrowing.
“I…I apologize.” Her eyes didn’t leave the wolf’s face.
A growl lifted in his throat. “I ask again, would you accompany me to tea?’
“No.. No thank you.” Jezzabelle said.
“Wrong answer.”
~
The wolf removed his paw from her temple, and Jezzabelle crumpled into herself.
“That’s right. You were not very civil the entire time you were here. And manners mean very much to me,” He pulled back, padding over to a felled tree on the edge of the clearing. He seated himself on the stump, which as if it had always been, swiftly transformed into a wrought iron chair.
“Now that I’ve found you, I will be taking you back with me down the Path of the Fae, and you will serve me.” He leaned on the body of the fallen tree, absentmindedly, slowly, tapping each one of his massive claws against the wood. It followed suit of the stump and swiftly transformed into a long garden table, laid with steaming tea cups and desserts of all kinds.
“Hopefully you will find some manners while you do.” His lip curled, eyes shifting back to land on the girl. “Now,” he said, picking up one of the teacups to take a near silent drink. “Mmm. I’m sure you have heard of me, even from where you hail from. I am the Five-Eyed Wolf. I am also known as Lupin, Gela, and The Grimmwulf. You may refer to me as Lord.” He paused for a moment, glancing at the table. “I know you turned down my offer before, but would you like some tea?”
Jezzabelle shakily nodded, not wanting to anger the Fae, and climbed to her feet. She walked over to the table, perching nervously on a branch, long broken from the tree, which almost instantly shifted into a dazzling wrought iron seat.
“Good, now you’re beginning to understand.” He chuckled dangerously, nudging a cup towards her. “Drink, drink, please.”
As she did, savoring the flavor like nothing she had tasted before, he leaned forwards. “And your name is?”
“Jezzabelle.” As soon as the word left her lips she regretted it, wishing she had given something, anything else but her true name.
A grin split his maw once more, and he set the teacup down with a soft clink.
“Jezzabelle…” as the word left his lips, it was as a powerful clawed hand gripped her mind-matter. “Now Jezzabelle, this whole predicament could have been avoided if you had manners. Every person, and fae, you meet is worthy of some respect.”
Jezzabelle didn’t answer, nervously sipping from her cup of tea.
“Some acknowledgment, yes?”
Pain shot through Jezzabelle and she shot to her feet with a yelp, dropping the cup with a clatter. “What was-” The pain doubled, and she fell to her knees, a low whine breaking from her throat.
The Five-Eyed Wolf gave her an exasperated look. “Manners, Jezzabelle… you will learn them.”
“Yes.” Jezzabelle strangled out, crying out as the pain increased yet again.
“Yes, what?” The Five-Eyed Wolf seemed to be getting tired of her.
“Yes… Yes, Lord.’
“Good! You’re learning already.”
The pain released Jezzabelle, and she gasped, scrambling to her feet once more. She didn’t want to be at this horrid tea party any longer. Anything would be better than this. “Oh creator, that was horrid.” She snapped her gaze to The Wolf. “I want to leave.”
“Already? Proper etiquette for tea is to take your time, sweet Jezzabelle.” He said, and Jezzabelle readied herself for another lash of pain.
Instead The Wolf stood, nodding. “But yes, it is rather late. We should be going.” As he stood, the tea set and furniture resumed their wooden state. Even the splattered tea from when Jezzabelle had dropped her cup disappeared without a trace.
She stared at where the tea had been for a moment before looking back up at the Five Eyed Wolf.
Where he had just been standing, the same pack of gray-green wolves stared back.
They were silent, golden eyes unblinking.
Jezzabelle shivered, taking a step towards them, nervous that they would devour her like they had each othee.
But they didn’t move, except for those golden eyes.
The young maiden dipped into a hesitant curtsy, and she could swear the wolves began to smirk.
In turn, the wolves of the pack dipped into a series of bows.
And in only a moment they were around her. They pushed against her, flipping her off of her feet. She screamed as she fell, the noise echoing in the cool night air.
Landing on the backs of the wolves, Jezzabelle struggled. They were carrying her like a wave as they ran, always a wolf there to catch her. Jezzabelle dug her fingers into their thick hides, holding on for dear life, squeezing her eyes shut against her fate.
The wolves carried her onwards, only slowing as they came to their final place.
A ring of old hawthorne trees greeted Jezzabelle’s eyes and she tried to scramble upright on the roiling tide of wolves.
She was set to the ground, the wolves once more leaped upon one another, quickly turning into the Five Eyed Wolf.
“Here we are!” His voice was joyful. “I welcome you to the Fae Path.” He said, motioning with one paw to the trees around him. “This will take us to my plane of existence.” He turned, fixing her with a gaze. “You must walk freely into the circle, and once there we will depart.”
“If I have to walk freely then I won’t go.” Jezzabelle said, taking a step back from the circle of trees.
The Wolf looked at her for a moment, then sighed. “You just have to keep making things more difficult, don’t you?” He lifted a claw and pointed at the ground beside him. “Please come here, Jezzabelle.” His voice was like that of a strict father’s.
As soon as he said her name it was as if she lost all control of her body. Even as she fought back she obediently took the place beside him. Tears began to stream down her face, asage realized the depravity of the situation.
The Wolf looked at her, politely averting his gaze until the sobs became nothing but sniffles. He cleared his throat, and turned back to her.
“We must go now. It’s terribly rude to show up late, hmm?”
She gave a stiff nod, and took a shaky breath. “I’m ready.” She would put up a strong face. She would do what her father always told her to. Clasp fate’s hands in the waltz of life.
“Good,” The Wolf cleared his throat and announced to the trees. “Take us to the summer court manor, if you will.” And immediately they began to thrash as if a mighty gust of wind had come on suddenly.
Jezzabelle wrapped her arms around herself, cowering from the whipping branches, “Death be sure to take me,” she whispered.
“Not yet, my dear Jezzabelle.”
She jumped as the wolf responded to her, withering under his gaze:
A jolt of pain ran through her and she gasped, clenching her fists tightly.
The Wolf clicked his tongue “And I thought we were making progress on manners already,” he shook his head, “No matter. We’ll be sure to fix that,” A wicked grin had split his maw. “But the important thing is, we’ve made it.”
Jezzabelle looked to see everything had changed around her. The dreary winter forest had disappeared, though the ring of hawthornes still remained.
In its place was a field, warm and ripe with grain, grasshoppers singing among the tall stalks of wheat.
She looked back at The Wolf, surprised to see the beast now adorned with a suit of fine silk, finer than anything she had seen at the Merchant’s Balls. Golden rings adorned his paws, and perched between his ears sat a small golden circlet.
The Wolf stood aloft, looking proudly over the land, before turning his gaze back to Jezzabelle.
“Welcome to my court.”
—————— 
Goodness! What a story, such vibrant penmanship. There’s a strong voice here which I do hope I was able to portray well.
Here’s your stew, friend!
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mirthmire · 4 years
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His bite is worse than his bark 
No ships really, but it can be seen as Regis x Geralt if you want
Day Six: MONSTER
The Witcher: Wild Hunt (Blood and Wine DLC)
NOTES: Another drabble! This one is a little longer 
WARNINGS: Blood, graphic violence, character death, spoilers for Blood and Wine
SUMMARY: Detlaff’s bite is WAY worse than his bark OR the final battle with Detlaff doesn’t go as planned
Word count: 1,451
@geraltwhumpweek
           Regis had Detlaff pinned down and Geralt raised his sword to end the fight. But Regis stopped him, raising a clawed hand to ward Geralt off. I’ve got this, his eyes said.
           But, of course, he didn’t. Detlaff squirmed free and slashed at Regis’s throat before vanishing into smoke. Geralt had no time to react as Regis was pulled away and was thrown into the crumbling stone wall with a brutal amount of force. The other vampire was buried under rubble, and thus, was no longer a threat to Detlaff. With that, the enraged vampire turned to Geralt, and clanged his claws together in an intimidating matter.
           “I only wanted the lass!” he screamed. “You two tricked me!”
           He rushed forward and disappeared into a huff of crimson smoke. He reappeared and Geralt had to dodge to the side. He took a chance, and swung his sword at Detlaff. The silver connected and the vampire recoiled with a pained hiss.
           “I wasn’t planning on it,” Geralt grit out. He knew being honest wouldn’t do much for his current situation, but it had slipped out. In all honesty, he hadn’t wanted to fight Detlaff, but as soon as the vampire lunged at Syanna, all talks of peace were forgotten.
           They raged at each other, a dance of claws and silver. Geralt was able to land more blows onto Detlaff, and the vampire was flagging. That’s when Detlaff decided to transform into a monster. Massive wings sprouted from his back and his face lost all human features. His claws rivaled the sharpness of even the most expensive rapiers and his teeth seemed too big for his mouth.
           “Witcher!” He lifted himself into the air with a mighty flap of his wings. “If you acknowledge any gods, pray!”
           Time blurred. It was the same cycle, but Geralt felt himself start to tire. Detlaff was too fast, and his shield did nothing to the swarm of bats that rushed at him. But in return, he saw the vampire becoming more desperate; this will surely leave an opening for the witcher to rush in.
           Then… Yes! There it was! Both parties threw their bodies at each other, and Geralt curved his sword in an arc and hit his mark. Detlaff froze momentarily as his wings slopped off and hit the ground with a sickening thud! He drew himself up, a snarl escaping his lips. Geralt ran forward, all intentions on ending this fight. But Detlaff was ready.
           He batted Geralt away with a massive clawed hand. The witcher was struck with so much force he fell onto his back and slid a good distance away. The bruising force left him gasping for air, and before he could regain his feet, Detlaff was on him. He was pinned down, and all Geralt saw was a flash of stained fangs before the vampire bit down onto his neck.
           Geralt heard a tearing sound, and for a moment he wondered what it was, and then the agony. He screamed, and tried to form a sign, but already his body was failing him. He struggled, but his movements were useless against Detlaff’s overpowering weight.
           Geralt could feel the growing puddle of blood under him and as it became deeper, the witcher’s struggles slowed. No… No! Geralt fumbled for any potions on his belt, but he met nothing but empty air. Shit, he must’ve used the last one while fighting Detlaff earlier before his whopped his wings off.
           Detlaff let out a cry of victory, and suddenly the weight was gone. But Geralt couldn’t find himself to care; he knew he had lost too much blood. Any normal man would be dead by now, and Geralt could thank his slowed heart beat for that, but now it just seemed to prolong his suffering. He looked over to Detlaff as the vampire pulled himself away, most likely to try and regrow his wings.
           Geralt felt the urge to cough, and when he did, blood sprayed from his lips. Only now was he aware of the steady stream of crimson flowing from the side of his mouth. He turned his head to the side and let out a huff of surprise as blood spilled from his mouth and onto the ground. That wasn’t good.
           The ground was becoming warm and wet, and it smelt of iron. Geralt was not an idiot, but it was hard for him to wrap his head around what was going on. Suddenly, Regis appeared in his blurred vision. He was bruised and bloody, but seemed alright. The vampire slowly pulled the witcher to his chest, and Geralt found it slightly easier to breathe, but not by much.
           He suddenly arched as something was pressed against his wound. He heard someone crying out but it sounded too muffled to make out. Maybe it was him?
           “It’s okay, my friend,” Regis’s voice was in his ear, and it made him jolt. “Shh, it’s alright…” He felt the vampire cradle his head into the crook of the vampire’s neck, and Geralt allowed his eyes to slip shut. Regis was safe, and Detlaff was gone- at least for now. He would take this opportunity to rest; slip into a meditation state, or maybe even sleep. He had become awfully tired….
           Regis wouldn’t mind, but Geralt did feel bad about bleeding all over him. He was a recovering addict, and some friend Geralt was being,with having placed Regis in a position where he had temptation all around him. He huffed a laugh, but instead he shuddered. Then breathing became impossible, but Geralt couldn’t find himself panicking. Instead he gave into the void that was looming in his eyelids, and then… nothing…. Although, he thought he had heard Vesemir’s voice somewhere around him….
           Regis had just gotten himself free of the rubble when he saw Geralt get hit. He struggled to his feet as his friend slid backwards, and broke into a run when he watched Detlaff pounce onto him.
           Then, there was the unmistakable sound of tearing flesh, and a harsh cry from Geralt. Regis stopped, shock freezing him in place. He watched as Detlaff twisted his monstrous head back and forth, causing irreparable damage that not even the most skilled surgeon could fix.
           He found his limbs again once Detlaff had lumbered off of Geralt, limping into a safe spot to try and regenerate lost appendages. Regis fell to his knees once he reached his friend. “Geralt…” he breathed.
           The damage had been done: Geralt’s jugular had been sliced, while the flesh around it was mangled and torn. Blood was coating the ground liberally, and Geralt seemed to be out of it; his eyes glazed over, but he was still breathing.
           Although it was too late. Regis knew this couldn’t be helped. Instead, he pulled the witcher up to his chest. Even though it was a fool’s errand, Regis ripped a piece of cloth off and pressed it to Geralt’s wound. It seemed like the appropriate thing to do; he knew he couldn’t save him, but at least he could try. Geralt came alive and cried out, and Regis held him tighter.
           “It’s okay, my friend,” he murmured into Geralt’s ear. It surprised the witcher, and Regis felt a pang of guilt. “Shh, it’s alright….” He cradled Geralt’s head and guided it to the crook of Regis’s neck. This way, he could feel Geralt’s breaths on his skin. But those were becoming erratic and shallow.
           Regis kept whispering to him, knowing by now Geralt wasn’t hearing him anymore. At one-point Geralt huffed out what sounded like a laugh. The vampire felt an odd feeling of surprise; what was he laughing at?
           Then the witcher shuddered, and Regis froze. A death throe. The vampire couldn’t help the tears rolling down his cheeks and he sobbed into Geralt’s hair. He no longer cared about Detlaff, who had gone suspiciously quiet. Even the overpowering smell of witcher blood didn’t seem to bother him at all.
Instead, squeezed his eyes shut as a new kind of pain wracked his body when he felt Geralt give one last breathy exhale before going completely limp in his arms. Regis knew Geralt would die here, once he saw his wound, but it still didn’t prepare him for the overwhelming grief that shook his body. He let out a cry that ripped at his vocal cords; it had started as a man’s scream but abruptly broke into a monstrous howl.
His screams gave way to him wailing like a child, and hugging Geralt’s still-warm body to his. There was nothing he could do, and all he could whisper through his sobs was:
“My dearest friend, I am truly sorry….” 
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bigskydreaming · 4 years
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remember when devin grayson wrote about green arrow flirting with teenager dick grayson and then bruce and dick have an incestuous relationship............................
Listen, I have no idea what this ask says, I just see a string of random letters followed by dot dot dot. 
In completely unrelated matters, the only dynamic between Dick and Ollie I abide by is one where the nicest thing Dick’s ever said to Ollie is something like “hey why does your face look like you killed a squirrel and glued it to your chin, is that what you were going for or do people just not like you and so nobody ever told you til now that that’s what it looks like.”
And even there, that’s still just the best Dick could manage (or was willing to even aim for) after Bruce gave Dick a totally and one hundred percent genuine and sincere Talking To about how he needed to be more polite to Ollie. Cuz the way I envision it, all that’s after Dick initially opened with something like, idk, “hey wanna hear a funny joke, it goes “what do you call a known Errol Flynn fanboy who thinks putting on a domino mask when he fights crime with a bow and arrow like, magically makes his goatee invisible? A dumbass who doesn’t get how secret identities work, that’s what. Get it, its you, you’re the joke.”
LOL for the record, I don’t actually hate Ollie and have no really strong opinions on him one way or another, it usually just depends on how he’s being written in whatever story or issue I’m reading with him. Its just canon that Ollie is like, one of the few people that Dick just openly can not stand, pretty much, with this stretching back far enough that personally, I like to headcanon it goes all the way back to even before Ollie took Roy in and has absolutely nothing to do with Roy whatsoever.
Idk, its just really fucking funny to me to picture that like, for whatever reason, ten year old Dick Grayson decided upon meeting the Justice League that they were all awesome except for Oliver Queen. Dick doesn’t know why, he doesn’t care why, he just knows that like, “I do not care for that Oliver Queen guy, not one bit, and no, I am not open to constructive criticism on this matter, UGH BRUCE STOP TELLING ME I SHOULD AT LEAST TRY AND BE NICER TO HIM, I SAID HE WAS A BUTTFACE AND I MEANT IT, WHERE’S THE CONFUSION.”
Because see, while Ollie is not Actually The Worst, he IS one of the League heroes who is prideful and petty enough to like, absolutely take offense to someone hating his guts for no discernible reason, while considering this more than reason enough to hate their guts right back. Even if that particular someone happens to have both miles and years left to go before they hit either puberty or the top side of five feet tall, and thus in the meanwhile, Ollie must literally lower himself in every sense of the word in order to return fire at his pint-sized and prepubescent critic.
Like, if Dick for whatever reason decided he just doesn’t like Superman or the Flash and he’s not gonna and you can’t make him, then I mean, Clark or Barry or someone else along those lines would just be like, oh, okay, that’s fair I guess. No, its totally fine Bruce, the adorable little human incarnation of glitter, cotton candy and all things Cute and Precious and Wee that you just took in is allowed to hate me if he wants to, its absolutely *wheezing sob* not a big deal. I’m a big boy, I don’t need you to intercede on my behalf with him. Now if anyone needs me, I’ll be wallowing in my room for the next 84 years, trying to figure out if I was some kind of monstrous puppy-kicker in a previous lifetime and that’s why my fate here in this one is to be despised by a ten year old with the superpower of Absolute Preciousness. Its my punishment, clearly, for being just the worst kind of monster to ever exist, the only kind that could actually be hated by someone like your adorable little Fun-Sized sidekick of joy and sunshine and l-l-laughter......no, don’t look at me, I’m hideous! *bursts into tears and scurries away to hide from the light*
But see now, Ollie, on the other hand, like.....he’s not a monster but he’s not about to let even some paragon of preciousness go around painting him as one. Why the fuck does he spend so much money on publicists if he’s just gonna roll over belly-side up the first time one of the people bad-mouthing him just happens to be like, a toddler instead of the usual TMZ?
So Ollie’s not about to admit that he’s actually miffed and even a little bit wounded that this cherub who seems to like even most supervillains more than he likes Ollie, just like, can not seem to be in his presence longer than sixty seconds before drawing his weapons and stabbing Ollie with words that hurt, dammit, because he has feelings too, y’know, he spent a lot of money on pricey therapists figuring out that yes, those are feelings he’s feeling and he can even name some of them.....
Like, he’s not quite on board with actually ACKNOWLEDGING that hey this stings, and that he really just wants to know what the hell this kid’s deal is and why don’t you like me, tiny human, what did I ever even do to you??? But all of that is like......Advanced Level Therapy stuff that he hasn’t quite gotten around to finishing yet at this point in time. Like yeah he’s already dropped a mint on the A-list of the head-shrinking world by now, but apparently he was supposed to keep coming back or something like that, they all keep making a really big deal about that for some reason, and look, he’s been busy. So he really just hasn’t had the time to finish up the course on How To Make Peace With the Fact That Sometimes Tiny Humans Don’t Like Me Even Though I’m A Fucking Delight, Dammit.
But even if the why of this kid getting under his skin so much eludes him for the nonce, Ollie is perfectly clear on one thing: he doesn’t typically go around making enemies of the twelve and under set, but if you prick him, he doth in fact bleed, you little prick. So if this knee-high nightmare is gonna keep coming at me and trying to start shit, then I am more than willing to throw down, is basically Ollie’s take here. 
“He wants to dance? Then c’mon, let’s do this thing. We can dance if he wants to. I’ve got the time,” Ollie says to himself and any other nearby Justice Leaguer who might be looking at him with that swiftly-becoming-familiar expression of mingled judgment, pity, exasperation and something a bit more ambiguous but which probably lands somewhere in the ballpark of “We honestly don’t know what to make of all of this but we’re all a little concerned This Is Not A Good Look, Bro. And also, we would like to formally request by way of this petition with all 200+ signatures of Leaguers and auxiliary members and support staff: please don’t escalate this into something where Batman might actually kill you, because that’s definitely not gonna make any of this less awkward for the rest of us, and uh....not to be indelicate here, but all those times we’ve all said things like no Ollie, we don’t think Bruce is a better fighter than you and we absolutely agree with you, you could totally maybe take him in a fair fight if you had your bow and arrows on you and he had the flu probably.....like. Umm. How to put this....Okay, soooooo....here’s the thing. There may, perhaps, ever so slightly be a possibility slash definite hardcore certainty that there were fib-like qualities to those conversations. A little bit. Oh hey, look at the time, we gotta run, there’s a fire somewhere, hopefully. Lol wait whoops did we say hopefully, that’s so weird like where did that even come from. We definitely meant to say probably. There’s a fire somewhere, probably."
But look, at the end of the day, the thing is, Headcanon Ollie is not like, proud of any of this, but he’s not unproud of it either. He is hashtag justified and he wouold appreciate some validation of that Ugly Truth, even if it might go against the grain and not ever exactly be a POPULAR opinion with the “please don’t tell the ten year old that nuh uh, his face looks like a hairy butthole, nobody wins there, that is not the victory you are looking for” crowd.
Honestly though, at this point Ollie’s list of Big Asks is quite small. Miniscule, even. All he wants, all he really really wants, is for someone, anyone, to join him in grasping the one essential corn kernel at the heart of this whole clusterfuck. The thing that nobody but Ollie seems to get and that Ollie’s pretty sure would be enough to allow him to die happily, if he could just manage to find one other person to sign on to the one single extremely obvious observation he keeps trying to point out to everyone, with a whole lot of nada to show for it:
Because see, the one thing about all of this that drives Ollie just absolutely up a wall, is that for some reason he can’t seem to get anyone to understand that like.....this whoooooole ridiculous mess, just like, even in terms of its very existence in the first place?
None of it is Ollie’s fault.
Dick started it!
Mere moments after frustratedly trying to convey this to Dinah for the umpteenth million bajillionth time:
“Okay, could you at least say something?” Ollie asked exasperatedly. “Anything? Seriously, I would take you counting to ten in Cantonese as an acceptable response at this point.”
“I’m just trying to decide which concerns me more,” Dinah said at last. Several epochs and the equivalent of the entire Jurassic Period later. But whatever, its not like Ollie was holding his breath at this point or anything. “The fact that you are genuinely trying to find and occupy the moral high ground in your feud with....a ten year old. Or that you actually think you’ve found it. That this is it, this is what that looks like. ‘The ten year old started it.’”
That was apparently all Dinah had to say. She fell silent again, and said silence lingered through a recreation of now the entire Cretaceous Period, before continuing into a revival of the whole Paleozoic Era from start to torturous finish.
“Well?” Ollie said with a patience that belied the urgency of the many pressing matters he had to attend to. Like the vanquishing of a ten year old archnemesis most foul.
Dinah just continued to frown pensively.
“Hang on, I’m still deciding.”
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orionsangel86 · 4 years
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15x04 Episode Review - What a Meta Rollercoaster THAT was!
Jensen Ackles directed this. Let that sink in before you read on. Because this means EVERYTHING.
Davy Perez said on Twitter that he had a lot of help with this episode from Bobo, Dabb, Meredith, Even from Jensen and Rob. Which seems pretty clear from me as I was blown away by what I consider a meta masterpiece.
There is a lot to unpack here so let me just jump straight in with my favourite part:
THE REDEEMED FANGIRL AND THE BRONLY GOD
In an episode directed by Jensen Ackles it both astonishes me and pleases me immensely that the strongest and most interesting plot didn’t involve the brothers. Every single scene with Becky and Chuck was a galaxy brain of meta and my head is still buzzing about it. 
**Meta Essay under the cut**
Becky has changed. She has grown up, has gone to therapy, has channelled previously unhealthy behaviour into a stable and successful Etsy business. She is the model fangirl. No longer the source of this shows mockery. Becky shuddered when remembering what she did to Sam. Showing her regret and guilt over her former actions leading the way for this fanbase to forgive and redeem her. Formerly Becky was portrayed as a mockery of those in the fandom who irritated Kripke, now she has grown beyond that dark and hateful corner, has welcomed Castiel into her home as the character whose form appears most often on her shelves. Clearly Becky is a Cas stan now. I bet she ships Destiel in those domestic AU’s she writes on AO3. Only Cas stans and Destiel shippers proclaim “not enough Cas” when referring to the source material after all.
However even though the positive message of the reformed fangirl from obsessive incest fetishist into healthy Cas fan filled me with joy, it wasn’t my top take away moment from these scenes. The entire message of Chuck and Becky’s conversation makes me want to cry tears of joy. After all, it isn’t often your favourite show includes an avatar of yourself arguing with an avatar for the writers - or at least, the villainous arrogant writer who refuses to acknowledge you. 
Becky likes the character drama. Chuck likes the monsters. Becky doesn’t care for the monsters. Chuck brings up the Leviathan (because of course Chuck would enjoy the season that first tried to “go back to the shows roots” and reduce the format back to just “Sam and Dean alone on the road”). Chuck tells her that fanfiction doesn’t count, but our strong willed fangirl avatar tells him “writings writing!” and damn right you are Becky. It counts.
Then Becky goes and blows my mind by speaking aloud in my favourite show the kind of things that I think and talk about every time this show brings out another generic MOTW episode:
“If I had to give one note, the jeopardy Chuck, its feeling a little thin. No stakes. It’s fun to hear the boys voices but a story is only as good as its villain and these villains are just not feeling very dangerous. Not to mention there’s no classic rock, no one even mentions Cas, the climax is a little stale. The boys tied up again while we get the villains monologue which frankly isn’t one of your best. A hint of originality wouldn’t… hurt.”
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(x)
At this point I might as well be on the floor because holy shit Becky is me. When did the writers become so very aware of their fanbase? It’s taken them 15 years, but they are finally here. Chuck is fuming of course. How dare a fangirl criticise his work, so instead of taking her advice on board, he plays up. He gets mean.
Chuck’s perfect SPN ending is tragic and in some weird insanely meta way this feels like a message from the writers telling us that they hear us because Becky once again says what we have ALL been screaming on Twitter about a tragic ending:
“It’s awful. Horrible! It’s hopeless! You can’t do this to the fans! What you did to Dean? What you did to Sam?”
I keep thinking that the SPN writers have made Chuck into a parody of the GoT writers. Chuck is arrogant, egotistical, and completely incapable of taking criticism. He went to Becky hoping she would fluff up his ego, but she shot him down and unfortunately, he destroyed her for it. 
The message here though is one of hope. Everything about Chuck is framed as negative, as villainous - this includes the tragic ending. Therefore if there is one thing I am practically certain of after this episode it’s that the actual finale will subvert Chuck’s vision. We will not be getting a tragic death ending to the show.
The other thing I can’t quite believe that the writers have done here, in an episode directed by Jensen is the shaaaade. I’m honestly feeling a little sorry for the bibro’s right now. Because the writers have been shading them HARD this season. Chuck has proven himself to be one of them. Imagine having the writers see you and the things you like about the show, and make you into the actual villain? I mean... ouch.
Reasons Chuck is a Bibro
He has tunnel vision on Sam and Dean (ignores Castiel completely)
He is all about the MOTW episodes. Doesn’t pay attention to depth of character
He clearly enjoyed season 7 MOTW brother only season
He believes a tragic brother only ending would be loved by the fans
He wants a dark tragic ending
When Becky recommends he write something else, he moans that he only likes Sam and Dean and only wants to write about them.
He is arrogant, egotistical and doesn’t listen to criticism.
(this is technically a crack intermission to an otherwise serious meta post but ADMIT IT there is truth to this crack!)
SAM AND DEAN - CHUCKS PUPPETS?
Whilst Becky faces Chuck and makes all our meta writer hearts pound with excitement, the other main story was a rather generic MOTW episode. But wasn’t that the whole point? What a genius twist on a MOTW this episode was. We all know the formula, so overdone now in the show that it has grown tiresome. Yet to have that tiresome format called out in the very episode that... includes... that...format... well, that’s gotta be one of the most meta things this show has ever done. I’m in awe. 
Sam and Dean investigate the mysterious death of a cheerleader at Beaverdale high school (and even though I don’t watch Riverdale even I can see how this school is a blatant nod to that terrible show #sorrynotsorry). It starts off pretty boring and normal. Sam and Dean do their thing, they wear the suits and pretend to be feds. They suspect Veronica (again Riverdale fans are probably enjoying this) but realise that she can’t be their vamp. The boys seem quite lost as to who is responsible... until Chuck starts writing that is. Then suddenly a random car driving past the crime scene on CCTV is enough for them to enter someones house with a machete. It’s a sloppy MOTW storyline, but this seems intentional IMO. From the moment Sam and Dean are back in their lumberjack chic and storming the family home to accuse the father of being the vamp, something feels off - or it did to me anyway. 
In fact, as this was all playing out right at the moment that Becky critiqued Chuck’s writing, it felt as if she was critiquing the very MOTW hunt that we were watching, at least from that point onwards. 
Suddenly we are back in Chuck’s world and he’s made it dark and tragic. 
The son in this nuclear family is Jack. unwillingly monstrous, innocent and guilty at the same time. The father, so desperate and self sacrificial for his child - heartbreakingly Castiel:
“You don’t have children do you, because if you did you would know that to see your child in pain, rips your heart out, and you’d know that you’d do anything. You’d die for them.”
The mother, wide eyed, armed and dangerous - Clearly Dean:
“Or kill for them.”
The son plays his part perfectly. Chuck be proud:
“I killed someone that I loved” 
“I’m a monster” 
Compare this to Jack in 14x20 saying to Dean as he stares down the barrel of the gun “You were right. I am the monster.”
But we as the audience know that this situation is wrong. There is no real monster here other than Chuck. The boy is a victim just as Jack was. The parents forced into desperate circumstances out of love. They may be the stereotypical white middle class American family made of privilege and self obsession, but what they do is still purely out of love. It is a situation they are forced into by Chuck, just as he forced the TFW family into the same situation at the end of last season, and we are made to look on in horror as what happened in the season 14 finale happens again, and yet Sam and Dean barely blink or question their actions. This is the strangest part of all. 
Sam’s reaction is interesting, because he knows this is wrong. He knows they shouldn’t be killing this kid. He can see the mirror, the repeated story here. He can TELL that something isn’t right... but he doesn’t speak up, doesn’t protest, doesn’t stop it. 
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Dean doesn’t question a damn thing. He plays his part perfectly. It’s haunting. Chuck almost had his clutches in Dean before, but this time his hold is tight. 
Look at how this was framed and tell me this whole thing isn’t Chuck’s doing?
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In both scenes Sam looks on in horror knowing that it isn’t right. But this time no one protests, and Chuck get’s his horrific ending.
Chuck banishes Becky and her family, and arrogantly proclaims that he “can do anything, I’m a writer” and the next scene cuts to Sam and Dean in the car ready for the classic Bro Melodrama moment as to be expected of all standard MOTW, but this time, it feels like they are reading from a script - at least at first:
Dean: “Well that was an interesting one.”
Sam: “Yeah. What Henry did. We’d have done the same thing. For Jack, if we’d had the chance.”
Dean: “Yeah. Yeah we would. Look man I get it. I get it we have lost way way too much. And its hard enough to feel like just cashing up. I felt like that. After Chuck back at the crypt. But you know what brought me back, you did. You saying that what we do still matters.
That’s why I wanted to drag us out here, to work the case, to save lives. Ya know. Because it is, it’s a crap job. We do the ugly thing so people can live happy.”
Sam: “Lucky them.”
Dean: “Yeah lucky them.”
Sam: “But it doesn’t change a thing. Ya know you still do the job. We don’t do it for us. We do it for Jack, for mom, for Rowena. We owe it to everyone whose ever given a damn about us to keep putting one foot in front of the other. No matter what.
Hey man like you said, now that Chucks gone. We’re finally on our own. We are finally free to… move on. Ya know.”
Sam: “Yeah I dunno I dunno if I can move on. I can’t forget any of them. I still think about Jessica. I can’t just let that go.”
Dean: “No man that’s not what I’m talking about.”
Sam: “I know I know I’m sorry I know. What I’m saying is that I don’t feel free. What we’ve done, what we’ve lost, right now that is what I’m feeling and sometimes its, its like I can’t even breath. Maybe tomorrow, maybe ill feel better in the morning.”
Dean: “And what if you don’t?”
Sam: “I dunno.”
First of all, would they REALLY have done the same thing for Jack? Kidnapped and bled an innocent girl to feed him? Because I don’t think they would have. Then Dean goes into a monologue that we have heard over and over again and it feels like he is reading from a script. It’s like going through the motions. We are back in Chuck’s worlds. There is no freedom here. Even the lack of Cas mention which we can argue is because Dean is burying those feelings and in denial, even so it feels jarring in the episode where the lack of Cas mention was already called out directly by Becky, so it only further adds to how disjointed this whole scene is. Like this scene is pure wank fodder for Bibro Chuck. Quite frankly, it is. But this time it feels like the writers are aware of this and are doing it purposely to MAKE it feel off.
The one time the script seems to trip is when Dean mentions moving on - triggering Cas’s words from last week, which he struggles with, and then Sam protests and actually opens up to how he is really feeling. The brother’s are back in Chuck’s maze, and this time it seems like he has made it impossible to deviate from the path - but I do wonder if Sam is going to be harder to control because of the connection...
The final shot of the episode only seems to further confirm that the Winchesters are once again being manipulated by Chuck. They are his puppets again, and this time it may even be worse:
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There is a huge sense of foreboding with this final shot. The shaking funko pops seemingly in fear of what Chuck plans to do. The two feathers behind them indicating their missing guardian angel (as Chuck continues to neglect Cas’s role in classic Bronly form) the tree indicating a garden? Heaven? and the grey paper with the Winchester tattoo potentially the gravestone that Chuck visualised? 
Whatever Chuck has planned, it appears to have played out in some form in this episode. Whilst I don’t think that the boys have been completely robbed of their free will, it is safe to say that they are back to playing by Chuck’s script, but this time with the confidence of men who think they are free. 
CASTIEL AS THE CATALYST FOR FREE WILL
For years now, I have been one of those annoying people irritating Cas fans by being irrationally happy when Cas isn’t in key episodes because I can see him so clearly in the negative space that his absence basically forms its own overshadowing presence instead. 
When I have rambled on about negative space in the past, it is almost always connected to MOTW episodes following some big DeanCas drama, and on the surface level, people have moaned about how the Cas mention wasn’t enough, or Dean hasn’t acknowledged him or something like that.
Well, this episode is no exception. But this episode IS different in that this episode textually calls out the lack of Cas blatantly within it’s script. Which is just some next level self awareness from this show that I am amazed by.
The entire first three episodes of this season spiralled around this DeanCas tension and drama which us Destiel shipping meta writers could barely believe we were watching since it is practically unheard of for this show to set its emotional A plot around Dean and Cas rather than Sam and Dean. But that is what Dabb has done. When that tension came to its climax in 15x03′s final scene, it was well speculated that 15x04 would understate the DeanCas break up due to the episodes being filmed out of order and therefore Jensen not knowing exactly the impact of the break up when he filmed his scenes for this episode. 
Well, we were certainly right that it was understated, with Dean basically burying his feelings in denial and work and food and drink. Until Chuck started writing and therefore took control back of the script, Dean was eating or drinking in practically every single scene. As he is well known for using food and alcohol has coping mechanisms when spiralling into a dark mindset. Other than these key clues, Dean doesn’t mention Cas once. So we can speculate that he hasn’t told Sam what happened, and probably made up some excuse about Cas leaving so that Sam wasn’t concerned. Though no doubt we will find out the extent of what Sam knows fairly soon.
On a surface level, DeanCas shippers and Cas fans have a right to be somewhat upset by this lack of acknowledgement of Cas, even though it is perfectly in character for Dean to bury his feelings in denial and distractions. But beneath the surface this meta masterpiece of an episode was so full to bursting with Cas it left me very happy. Lets go through the key Cas positive areas:
1. The AU world vision of Sam’s that opens the episode is dark and depressing and indicates a world in which Sam's demon blood obsession got the better of him, which was a season 4 story arc (which we all remember as Cas’s introductory season), and yet Benny appears as Dean’s right hand man, a season 8 story arc founded in Purgatory (which we all relate heavily to Cas). Castiel is mysteriously absent from this vision though, even though the two key story lines here in the OG world heavily revolved around Cas. The question has to be asked, in fact the entire vision demands we ask it, just as Becky points out later: Where is Cas? This AU world is sure to appear later in the show, and I have a feeling Castiel’s absence will be explained.
2. Becky’s house - The crew clearly had a lot of fun filling this set with fan made merchandise (and what a wonderful way to reward your fanbase by including their creations in the show itself?). As a Cas girl my eagle eyes were mainly looking for any Cas merch and I was not disappointed. In fact there wasn’t a single scene in Becky’s house where a Cas figure of some kind wasn’t in frame. Whether that was Jensen’s decision or not, it makes me very happy. I talk here about the specific arrangement of Cas merch paired up with Dean merch which blatantly proves Becky is a Destiel shipper). In fact, Cas looms in the background in every scene until Cas sits down at the end to write his tragic ending when the camera pans to the Winchester funko pops bobbing like puppets. Cas is jarringly absent from that scene which only further indicates that he has been overlooked and is therefore still free of Chuck’s manipulations.
3. “No one even mentions Cas” - Obviously this was the line that pulls everything else together. For this to be said in an episode in which the very complaint actually occurs is a whole other level of self awareness and by including it the writer is of course reminding the audience to question this very thing. Like with the first scene, like with every moment that Sam and Dean are on screen together stubbornly not mentioning Cas or the extremely dramatic emotional break up scene at the end of the last episode, this line links everything together and forces the audience to keep Cas at the forefront of their mind.
4. The Bro Melodrama scene - As I mentioned above, this whole scene feels like the brothers are reading from a script and going through the motions but particularly Dean, whose stubborn refusal to mention Cas when he says “ We do it for Jack, for mom, for Rowena. We owe it to everyone whose ever given a damn about us to keep putting one foot in front of the other. No matter what.” it feels so intentional that they have left him out here. Thanks to that one line from Becky, the lack of Cas mention is impossible to ignore. He is so present in the negative space that its like a brick to the face. There is no way that there isn’t an agenda here regarding Castiel.
5. Castiel as the self sacrificing father - The second most glaringly obvious mirror in the episode after the son that mirrors Jack, the father of the vampire boy was far too ready to be killed by the Winchesters if it meant saving his sons life. Neither Sam nor Dean ever willingly offered themselves up for Jack, but we as the audience know all too well that Cas did in one of the most heartbreakingly emotional moments of Season 14. In an episode where the Winchesters stubbornly refuse to mention Cas (though Dean’s drinking on the job and overeager consumption of meaty food are a good indicator of his repressed feelings), Cas forces his presence on them anyway. It is a clear indicator of how close and important Cas is to the story that it is impossible for the boys to ever really forget about him, and I suspect that this will start to eat at Dean very soon.
6. Chuck overlooks the most powerful player - What ties in everything I have mentioned above already about Cas in the negative space, is Chuck. Because the whole point of this episode is that whilst he argues with Becky - the avatar for an inclusive healthy fandom that clearly adores Castiel and surrounds themselves in his image - we are left watching a stale and relatively boring MOTW episode where the Winchesters really do act like nothing more than shallow two dimensional bronly versions of themselves - because that’s what Chuck forces them to be. Chuck, who sits down and types with his Sam and Dean puppets metaphorically shaking with fear as they are condemned to live under his pen once again. It isn’t an accident that in a house surrounded with Cas merch no matter where you look, the one time his image isn’t in frame is that all important last shot - an indication that whilst Sam and Dean may now be under Chuck’s control, Castiel is not. Therefore Castiel’s importance in freeing the boys from Chuck’s villainous tragic ending becomes elevated. This episode symbolically makes Castiel the catalyst for true free will - after all, Castiel himself finally took control of his life and his mental health last week when he chose to walk away. In an episode where his presence in the negative space couldn’t be more obvious - he is the metaphorical elephant in the room - I can’t help but wonder just what role he has to play in Chuck’s vision, because right now it seems Chuck has simply forgot about him. A terribly foolish thing to do given everything Castiel has proven to be capable of.
OVERALL
As a quick summary, I’ll say I loved this episode and everything about it. Even the puppet bronly Winchesters because they were so clearly framed as being wrong. It’s such a hopeful episode, that indicates a hopeful non tragic inclusive TFW ending at least. Chuck is the villain and he will be beaten in the end. Dean and Cas will reunite and it will be the kind of scene that will rip all our hearts out in its emotional investment. Jensen Ackles directed an episode that threw major shade at the Bronly fandom corners, that celebrated TFW inclusivity through the reformed healthy successful fangirl Becky. That villainised the dark tragic brother only ending. This was a thoroughly validating and satisfying episode for me as a meta writer to watch. It has elevated my hope for the rest of the season, and following the incredibly emotional Destiel break up scene that held the focus of the last episode, I can’t stop myself from feeling joy just knowing that right now, everything that I watch this show for, all the things I adore about it, are the same things the writers of this show enjoy and are making the focal points for the series.
This isn’t a show for people that only care about seasons 1-3. This isn’t a show for people who hate Cas. This isn’t a show for people who fetishise the dark, depressing tragic game of thrones style brother ending. This is a show for people like me. Who actually enjoy it and celebrate it and can’t wait to see what happens next.
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makiema · 4 years
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I was just reading Snk 123 again and somehow I’m just so sad that Isayama literally flipped Levi out of Eren’s life just like that. I mean this has been hard to accept for a long time now but with all the miscommunication between AM and Eren in this chapter, it is even harder to take in. Levi has played such a big role in Eren’s development and has always understood Eren better than anybody. His pov is extremely important at this point. And I’m just a lot frustrated at how Isayama keeps pushing him out of the whole conundrum. So basically I wanted to write a meta but I was just too sad to write a meta so below the cut is just a whole rant about Levi and Eren and why we need Levi back in Eren’s life. Eh, it’s like really long but I just had to get this off my chest.
I just want Levi to talk with Eren once more before the manga concludes. His POV is extremely important rn, more than ever, given that he was the only one who acknowledged Eren for his whole self ( yes both his darker side and the baby side). Additionally he was the only one who talked to Eren in his language (like freedom and choice) something that would later influence Eren’s outlook and consequently his speeches too. I don’t have anything against AM (in fact I love both of them a lot) but really the fact that they CHOSE to see only one side of Eren is something that’s undesirable and unfortunate. I mean, every living person has a darker twist associated with them. Nobody is flawless and it’s important for us as well as people around us to acknowledge the flaws, to accept a person for who he is. Choosing to ignore the darker aspects and accepting only the idealised version of someone is rather naive and immature behaviour.
And here I just wanna point out how Levi was always aware about the darkness that Eren possesses inside him. He has always spoken in terms of duality when it came to Eren like to him, Eren was both a “tameless monster” that might be dangerous and also his “source of all miracles” ,i.e., his hope. Levi is someone who never had a Romantic perception of Eren. But for AM, it was just the opposite. Could it be because AM were somewhat afraid that if they chose to see Eren’s darkness it might make them love him less and also shatter the idealism they associate with him? And am I blaming AM for having this outlook? Hell no. It’s a personal take but tbh as teenagers that’s not uncommon. I mean we do like to think that the people closest to us are absolutely perfect. We like to believe that they can never be in the wrong, specially when it comes to family and childhood friends who’ve been there for us since forever. It’s hard to accept that they might have a darker side to them. AM love Eren so much that it makes them turn a blind eye to reality and they “did not want to see” the slow transformation in Eren because that could lead them to confront Eren’s demons. 
However, coming back to Levi, he really foreshadowed Eren’s whole character arc in his understanding of Eren’s nature. Yes, Eren does have a darker psychological side: he is essentially a monster that cannot be hold in check by anybody. Mikasa and Armin tried in 112, but sadly they couldn’t get through to him. And also, let’s talk about the difference in approaching Eren when it comes to AM and Levi. Armin, in all the instances he managed to talk Eren out of his delirious state, has always made references to the outside world and elaborated on the beauty and variety that lies there. It was kind of like projecting his own dreams onto Eren and not realizing that Eren doesn’t care about oceans or mountains or deserts or anything. For Eren, it is not about the beauty of the world or the variety in it, it is the FREEDOM and the FREEDOM OF CHOICE that a person who’s not oppressed has when it comes to seeing and experiencing the world. In contrast to Armin’s way, we have Levi’s way of approaching Eren where he talks about the different taste in air outside the walls because the outside has what BOTH OF THEM value: FREEDOM. Levi also talked about how hellish the outside is, in contrast to Armin always associating beauty with it. And when Eren later talks to Falco he tells that what awaits him might just be another hell, but it could be hope too- the hope of finally being free. Levi has a superior understanding of Eren, of what he needs to hear, etc.- something that can’t be just thrown out of the window. (Isayama did just that by denying any involvement from Levi when it comes to Eren’s recent actions/attitude. He denied us the talk that was much needed)
Now the VN isn’t exactly canon given that it wasn’t written by Isayama but we can consider it semi-canon as it required Isayama’s approval. So, the whole thing highlighted the message that “Humanity’s strongest understands Eren Jaeger very well” and yeah, even going by the manga we know Levi is integral in Eren’s development and is the only one who saw through the duality in Eren, understood his drive and his will. So why all the focus on Levi’s understanding of Eren if it is supposed to amount to nothing in the end? I get that Isayama wanted to set it up like Levi’s role in Eren’s life is over but it is just so abrupt?? I mean, okay I accept that when Levi said “He’s fifteen. Everyone has a phase like that”, it was an indirect reference to the fact that Eren is in the teenage phase™️ where he wants to be left alone with only his friends and therefore, Hange shouldn’t be so inquisitive (and maybe Levi too should not concern himself with Eren as much as he used to before??) Like, if we look at this way, it justifies Levi’s distance from Eren post the basement revelation. Since then, we got no other moment of conversation between them while before that, there’d be plenty. I get Isayama’s motif of taking Levi out of Eren’s life to add fuel to Eren’s gradual isolation from everybody but then why did he bother to put so much emphasis on Levi’s understanding of Eren in the beginning? It should have some ulterior purpose right? If the Rumbling does happen and the world is really destroyed (i’m not ruling out the possibility of the world destruction not happening im just considering the situation if it really does comes to the worst), there has to be someone who reproaches Eren, someone who berates him in a way that he understands and reflects on what he has done; someone who brings up the topic of if this is really what freedom demands and actually gives us the answer to the pertinent question: if this was the only way? And I cant think about anyone else really suited for this other than Levi- someone who realized the potential for danger that Eren holds? someone who always realized his desire for freedom? (Also, Levi and Hange are the only senior officers left right now so it ideally should be either of them but because Levi played a greater role in Eren’s life compared to Hange, I side more for him being the one to deal with Eren.)
Also, Armin pointed out how he always thought he understood Eren even more than Mikasa but it turned out that he actually didn’t; the same went for Mikasa in 123 when she accepted that she’s been seeing only one side of Eren. Both of them could never accept the plausibility of Eren doing something so monstrous. But, Levi could. From the very beginning. Not that it made him love Eren any less I mean, he did say that he’d willingly go to war again to protect Eren. Besides the vow he made to Erwin, the fact that Zeke could be controlling Eren and it’s Zeke’s fault that the higher-ups don’t trust Eren, also became a crucial factor for Levi to decide going against authority and killing Zeke. That’s how much Levi still loves Eren, even after Liberio. So all I am saying is that Levi should be let in Eren’s life once this all is over and the manga concludes because imo there is no one better qualified to address Eren and talk to him as he is now. Only someone who had a vague idea about Eren’s darkness can and also should talk him down. If the Rumbling really happens, and all hell is really let loose, then is this really the freedom that Eren wanted? Is this a price worth paying? Given that Levi is the only one who has spoken explicitly about freedom to Eren, his take on this becomes extremely important and that’s why we need a Levi-Eren talk or at least Levi’s pov on Eren and the Rumbling. 
The manga has established that Levi understands Eren’s drive for freedom and his monstrous essence better than anybody else. In fact, it is an undeniably important aspect of his character arc and unless he gets to have a final conversation with Eren then his arc will never really get a proper closure. At least, this is how I feel and I’m also sad that Isa made him so non-inclusive in Eren’s life just like that and in his place, AM couldn’t understand Eren at all. I mean let’s face it he is Eren’s mentor and his influence on Eren is so visible that this cutting away of Levi from Eren’s life just doesn’t sit well with me. Maybe it’s because I’m biased idk but I strongly feel like Levi should get a final say on Eren and his behaviour, because right now, as it stands, he is the only one who got the closest to understanding Eren, all of him.
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coleisunderrated · 4 years
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Season 11: The Destruction of Zane Julien
You read that right. Season 11 ended up doing nothing more but destroy everything about Zane that made him who he was and was one big middle finger to all the character development and hardships he went through. Follow the cut for why and my biggest rant yet and the bane of my time in this fandom
Making one of the ninja evil was kind of a given seeing how much the fandom wanted it. I wouldn’t have had a problem with it either but the writers decided to ‘play it safe’ by using Zane simply because he’s a robot who can just be reprogrammed. It really dehumanized him, especially after he struggled time and again to be just as human as the rest of the ninja. I know Ninjago’s writing has never been stellar but there was a whole bunch of problems with Zane being the Ice Emperor. What was the point in making him evil if he had no real reason other than a shoehorned case of amnesia? which was the laziest way to go And why would they do it if they won’t go into the undoubtedly traumatic effects it will have on him or even the changes that could’ve happened within the team?
And worst of all, all the damage from that lazy and bad writing has been done. Season 11 ended up completely destroying his character.
Before season 11, Zane was the sweetest person of Ninjago. He grew and learned about himself and the world just like any other human. He was always the odd one out but soon earned his place in the team. He had a very sweet and loving relationship with his father and even if it’s been retconned, he was also accepting of his brother Echo. He found his true potential by embracing who he was and knowing the love he had for his friends. He even sacrificed his own life to stop the Overlord, dying as a true hero. He was a true protector and went through way more than any ninja did (besides Lloyd) to save Ninjago time and again. Even if he was a robot, he was, in a way, more human than many other characters in Ninjago. His story has been told and the only way to add more was to explore more of his past such as his encounter with the previous Master of Ice or his life between his father’s first death and meeting Sensei Wu. But all of that, all the character development and growth he had, and all the suffering he endured to uphold his duty, has been rendered meaningless and thrown down the drain the moment Zane was revealed to be the irredeemable and monstrous Ice Emperor.
Zane was made to protect those who can’t protect themselves. As the Ice Emperor, he did the exact opposite by ruling not just a city like Garmadon did but an entire realm with an iron fist. He also killed countless innocent beings. He committed genocide on Krag’s species and most likely many others who weren’t lucky to have any lone survivors. The formlings and the villagers being frozen wasn’t treated as such because ‘oh hey they’re still alive, they just can’t do anything’ but it was really no better than if he actually killed them. For the formlings, their culture, way of life, and knowledge of shapeshifting, had been wiped out for countless years. He killed so many people and living things, brought so much suffering to a whole realm, and committed countless atrocities that are absolutely unforgivable. Nothing could ever make up for what he did. He jumped beyond the moral event horizon further than any villain in Ninjago ever did and yes, that includes Harumi.
Much of the fandom and even canon put all the blame on Vex and while he can be considered the true villain of the Ice Chapter and him manipulating Zane to do his dirty work for him made him all the more vile, what is often overlooked is that Zane still did these terrible things out of his own will. The scroll corrupted him but didn’t erase his will and tyrant or not, he could still disagree with Vex, make his own decisions, and even did things Vex had no say in such as imprisoning Lloyd.
And then the writers only made it even worse with the way they ended it.
When Boreal was defeated, the other ninja finally realized the Ice Emperor is Zane yeah Ninjago has never been good with subtlety I’m actually disgusted that they, especially Cole, took him back. They knew he was a genocidal tyrant who caused decades of suffering to the whole Never Realm yet they don’t have to do any fighting and let Lloyd take all the credit and welcome him back to the team like all that never happened. They all took a backseat throughout the whole Ice Chapter so Lloyd to get all the spotlight and do everything himself yet again (which is a whole other issue in of itself). And once they meet up with Zane, all of his crimes and atrocities they know he did are forgotten just because he’s their friend and the protagonist who should always be treated as a hero no matter what he does. And Krag doesn’t even seem to be scared or angry when he sees Zane, who killed his kind. And then he gets to be with the ninja for a bit before they go home while the denizens of the Never Realm don’t seem to react at all to his presence. Even if he never really showed his face up to this point, the ninja and Vex would’ve surely said something but no, he's not an evil dictator anymore and was a good guy all along so he won’t have to face any repercussions or fess up to all the horrible crimes he committed. Then again, what’s the point if nothing could ever redeem him after all that?
And the message at the beginning of the Ice Chapter has also ended up being irrelevant. It strongly implied that not only is Zane no longer the good-natured nindroid we all know and love but that there will also be no going back. The only way it could’ve had any impact at all was if Zane was actually going to be gone for good. The possibility of it being the key to restore Zane’s memories also a waste of potential. Speaking of which, it was unrealistic and a blatant deus ex machina that Vex only had to say ‘protect’ and boom! Zane’s memories are back and he returns in a flash and everything is all good and normal again. He didn’t have to struggle one bit to recover his memories. Regaining memories is not that simple and Zane didn’t even acknowledge all the harm he caused nor does he really do anything to Vex other than freezing him for a bit. At this point, he has devolved into nothing more than the unsympathetic and unforgivable karma houdini he now is.
All this makes me think of a Twitter post I saw earlier of how ‘we were not ready for the ending’. With Nya learning to control ice at one point, the writers seemed like were seriously going to kill off Zane or write him off permanently and replace him with Nya. What could’ve also happened is somehow, if Zane survived, the First Spinjitzu Master’s spirit may sense what Zane did and would be so disgusted by his actions he takes away his elemental powers and pass them on to Nya or Zane himself does so. With Zane powerless and traumatized, he ends up leaving the team for good. He certainly won’t be able to stay in the Never Realm either given all the harm he caused and everyone there would most likely want him dead. If he didn’t die, he either shuts down permanently or leaves for some completely different realm and never comes back. I remember when the whole fandom was scared something like that would happen but looking back now, those would’ve been way better than that awful finale we got. Killing off Zane for good or him leaving permanently would’ve been a very huge move and Ninjago is no stranger to this stuff but that leads to another problem. The problem isn’t whether or not the writers will make any big moves, it’s that they often end up doing a bad job at it.
And the finale. Goddamn the finale.
The finale only made Zane look even more unsympathetic and undeserving of the happy ending or anything resembling it. You can forgive the monster who killed and harmed countless innocent people and caused a devastating eternal winter to a whole realm simply because they happen to be your corrupted friend who doesn’t remember you but they’re memories came back in a snap and you can fix them in an instant with the Power of Friendship(TM)! That is complete and utter bullshit! And it completely destroyed his place in the team. He can’t be seen as a ninja or a good guy anymore and the ninja know they’re siding with a murderer and tyrant who’ll never have to face any consequences for all the terrible things he did and will most likely never address all the trauma he’ll now have. And while I may not ship Pixane, can you imagine how devastating it would be for Pixal to know what Zane did? If the Pixane episode doesn’t address any Ice Emperor stuff or her trying to help him, it’s gonna feel very... off. Honestly, Zane’s relationship with the ninja and even Pixal is now very toxic.
And no, Zane apologizing or the ninja helping him being 'behind the scenes’ just won’t cut it. We can only get so much from what actually happens in the show. Even if it appeared in the show he’s done way too many things that are too terrible to deserve even an ounce of sympathy.
Gonna diverge a bit here but am I the only one who thought Vex also got off way too easy?
Anyway, with all said and done, Zane now feels completely out of place in Ninjago. The writers most likely had a different ending in mind that would result in Zane being gone for good but they changed it at the last minute and as a result, it doesn’t feel right with him there. It no longer feels like he’s part of the team and while the ninja still serve their purpose and have more of their story to tell, Zane doesn’t seem to fit in anymore and is... just there. The Ice Chapter completely threw away all the development he had and made his story a total waste. I’m also starting to fear this will affect Pixal, who (as far as the writers are concerned) is most relevant as a love interest, not a samurai or even her own character.
The only way the writers could salvage Zane’s character at all is to consider this season nonexistent and they’re doing a pretty damn good job at that and that isn’t really a good thing. As for the next season, I’m feeling ‘meh’ about it and while Cole seems to finally get some attention after that, I have some bad feelings about what’s gonna happen. Besides all that, Zane’s presence and status as a good guy now feels unearned and forced. And if he goes into any ‘protecting others’ spiel, what was once a core element of his character has become hollow and now makes him a massive hypocrite. That’s how bad this season ended up being for Zane, his story, and everything that made him who he was.
All in all, congratulations Ninjago writers. You took one of your most beloved and well-developed characters who deserved the world and completely ruined him beyond repair. I can’t wait to find out who will be the next character you’ll destroy.
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