so...it seems like ruby wants to ascend to be like summer.
but given that it's been said that the tree and ascension are about "acceptance", i don't think ruby is really going to ascend in the traditional sense.
ruby's goal for herself and her identity has always been to "be like the heroes in the books".
and now we've seen how jaune has handled that mindset (hint: it wasn't a great way of thinking. ouch).
part of that identity has been centered around summer. she inherited her emblem. she inherited her silver eyes. she's always being compared to her, and she's been living in her mother's shadow—"super mom", the perfect hero.
Qrow: You're special the same way your mom was.
rather, that's the version of summer that ruby has held onto. she's trying to live up to an expectation that was never really set in the first place, because summer wasn't perfect.
Yang: Mom took a risk the day she left. And I don't think it went the way she wanted it to, but she's still my hero.
which—side tangent—i feel like is part of the reason yang didn't seem to notice just how far ruby was falling, so to speak.
yang doesn't see summer as such complete perfection, but she's still her hero.
Yang: It's not like we were asking her to be perfect.
and of course, she (and everyone but ruby herself, really) doesn't expect perfection from ruby either.
and don't get me wrong, yang still definitely idolizes summer—just in a different way from ruby. ruby's idolization of summer is much more...unhealthy. she feels like ruby rose is not enough, but that summer rose is.
Ruby: And it never, ever goes away. The feeling of not being...enough.
The Blacksmith: And how would you measure...enough?
that being said, i'm getting the feeling that we may be getting some insight into summer, whether that be through some flashbacks of her failures, or maybe even how she died (i can only dream).
through that, i think ruby might be able to finally accept herself, because summer wasn't perfect either. ruby is not her, she's her own person.
and she's enough.
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guys are you actually not supposed to treat fictives like their source. i did not know this until now
our fictive(s) is its source ........ like...... so close........... i thought everyone was like this i thought that was the point 😭😭😭
like if you cosplay as yourself in a game and a little kid player comes up to you and excitedly misspells your name most fictives are just like "ew" ???? like genuinely offended/uncomfortable ?? 💔 :0(
are ANY fictives close to their source or is it just me????? i thought i was normal LOL ??????????
im so confused like what even IS a fictive?? is a fictive just someone that stole a fictional character's face and ran ??? i am so fucking sorry for this ignorant ugly post i genuinely from the bottom of my heart thought when people say "im a fictive of The Guy" i thought they mean like "i AM The Guy, with minimal differences" (like, fictionkin?? unless idk what fictionkin is either) but now it seems more like "im a fictive of The Guy" just means "i have The Guy's face i am Not Him" ?
idk maybe im stupid and i dont understand because i havent had any bad interactions about my fiction identities (yet) but idk what someone could even say to me about fictionhood that would make me be like . ew get away from me. yknow ?? ugh this post is so embarassing. im so sorry other fictives reading this
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I got my little sister into watching Supernatural
The deal is she watches this and I watch One Piece (the anime with more than 1000 episodes). But we watch every episodes of each show together.
This is going to be a busy year for sure. She already knows a lot of things about monsters (like wendigo, djinn and all), so I hope she'll like SPN.
So far we watched the 6 first episodes of season 1. I asked her who she preferred between Sam and Dean. She told me Sam makes her think of Sam from Lord of the Rings. And that Dean is a cliché. I tried not to take it personally.
But she saw my reaction, so she added that it's too soon for her to choose. And I decided to focus on that, just to not be mad at her because she just insulted Dean and by this she attacked my heart.
ANYWAY I'm FINE. I want to watch more. I want her to meet Cas. I want her to feel as insane as me about those characters. But I need to be patient and hope she'll want to keep watching.
I'll keep you posted. Especially because I'll need to let it all out if she keeps thinking that Dean is a cliché.
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Hhmmmm I have been inspired. Have a Constantine and Billy drabble.
“Hey, John, you there? John? Hello? Is the mirror on? Jooohhn! I can see you, ya know. C’mon turn around! C’moncmoncmon pleeeaaas--”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Constantine threw the scrolls down on the desk and whipped around, snagging the cig from edge and glaring at the two-way mirror that sat innocently upon the bookshelf, right where he left it. Right where he could see and hear for whenever one trouble-prone Billy Batson could reach him. The little shit was lucky John deemed pants a worthy effort that day. “What?”
Billy grinned at him, all bright eyed and apple cheeked and very obviously up to no good. It was hardly a wonder why John liked the brat so much. “Do you know how I can get to the veil without actually going through it? I mean, how Marvel could?”
Sometimes, he also really hated how much he liked him.
Through the steady stream of smoke as inhaled and exhaled, John squinted suspiciously at the kid as he tossed the words about in his head for a moment. “Why the fuck do you wanna go there? Not trying to bring someone back from the dead, are you? Cause necromancy is nasty shit, especially for the Big Cheese.”
“No! I am not doing necromancy. I just need to get to the... the midpoint. Not quite here, but not there yet.” And he said all that in a way John was sure Billy thought he was being rightly clever. That he could dance around saying outright what he wanted, using half truths and side steps, as if John Constantine wasn’t the fucking master of that particular game.
“You mean you wanna get to the Crossroads.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
Well, John had to give him that - he knew when to not bullshit the bullshitter.
“No.”
“John--!”
“Do you even know what the Crossroads are? Literally and figuratively and spiritually - do you?”
“I mean--”
“No, no. Lemme finish.” He took a long drag just to give the kid time to pout and rethink whatever nonsense he wanted to get into. “The Crossroads aren’t for the likes of you nor me, got it. Because you know who resides?”
“Well, kinda--”
“The fuckin’ Fates, that’s who! And unless you’re going to them to tell personally and explicitly to fuck off, you’re not setting foot passed this plane of reality. Understood?”
Billy sighed loud and dramatic. A 50/50 on if John’s words got through. “I’m not trying to contact the Fates, John.”
Oh. Well, that was good.
Still, woulda been a joy to hear about bright and shiny Champion of Magic telling Fates to shove it.
“Then, why the fuck- This isn’t another stupid fuckin’ game Klarion is trying to rope you into, is it? Or a sorry sob story some poor dead sop gave to you about not wanting to move on? Cause there is no goddamn reason you should be having any sort of business there.” And the more Billy delayed telling him the actual truth, the antsier John got. But he knew, deep in his rotted, wicked heart, he knew how to follow these steps. Knew the script Billy wrote by because that was how he lived this long - testing the waters before going head first. John appreciated every wary bone in that kid’s body. Something had to balance out the overwhelming sense of compassion.
This time when Billy sighed, it was more resigned. More coming to terms with the inevitable fact that he was the one that contacted John because he needed to know something, and no matter what, John would tell it to him straight. Wouldn’t tell him no on the sole basis of whatever bullshit the League of Goody Fucks would feed him. Constantine may still very well say no, but he at least gave a good damn reason, thanks.
Blue gaze right on John, “I have business there cause I need to contact the Goddess Hekate to invite her to dinner.”
Oh, for fucks sake.
“Oh, for fucks sake, kid.”
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himh I'll make a Dark Urge that's so fucking scared
big scary bloodsoaked killer, tearing through armies with her literal bare hands? nah. a quiet, scared girl who doesn't understand why she does what she does, why she can do what she can, but is, at the same time, deeply disgusted by herself because she has just enough self-awareness to know to be repulsed.
maybe it's because I'm a tiny bit obsessed with clinging to the thought that people, at the end of the day, are fundamentally good, no matter what. that there is a fundamental human goodness in all people that makes them worthy of redemption, or at least of the opportunity for atonement.
maybe the way I want to play a story like that is with someone who, stripped from indoctrination and free for the first time to think for herself and embrace and be who she is, finds that in the deepest, most hidden pits of her soul, she is not the strong, kind, resilient person she might want to be. try as the might, she is not someone who can bear the weight of her own past, she's just a... a terrified, broken little girl, cowering in the shadows and unable to look herself in the eye. (which also gives me ideas for her relationship with Orin but that's a little bit beside the point)
cathartic self-insert who. therapy? what is that. is it on Steam or Epic.
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