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#- position is literally one of my worst fears it’s just humiliating
callixton · 2 years
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i am in such a weird place socially i love my friends and i’m so glad i’m getting closer with them but also everyone i know seems to hate each other and it is getting so exhausting. just be a good person why is it this hard
#there’s a reason i didn’t shit talk even in privacy and this is why it feels bad#like venting. fine whatever sometimes people fuck up#but i’m just. exhausted and it makes me feel bad. fucking get along with each other#also one of my very close friends keeps telling people about a crush someone has and yes neither of us like her at all but being put in her#- position is literally one of my worst fears it’s just humiliating#and also yknow. maybe i am sensitive and too earnest but also maybe some of y’all could stand to gain some of that.#and this friend is the one who i’ve talked to for days about how we both felt unwelcome last year and wanted to fix it and she just.#is sometimes genuinely mean and doesn’t seem to want to fix it#i know they’re good people but why is it so hard to do the right thing#i’m also just constantly aware of my position and don’t know how not to live in others perspectives. maybe to a fault but i would rather#- that be my fault#it’s also. i think it’s a little too easy for them to dismiss the marginalizations of others#i’m a . political person there’s no way around it but more than that like. if a system makes things better for disabled people maybe it’s#- worth the fucking extra effort. you’ve never lived with having things barred from you because of disability maybe. don’t be against it#- just bc you don’t like the person who proposed it#this is such a stupid vent ignore me this is what happens when i stop using finch#ted talks
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mymarifae · 1 year
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i want to talk about an.
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i want to talk about an in “kick it up a notch!” specifically, and correct a slight misconception i’m starting to see pop up about her character development and how it relates to the rest of VBS but mostly akito.
an is alone in her fear of being left behind and all her other feelings of inadequacy and jealousy in regards to kohane’s astounding growth as a singer. akito is not going through the same thing she is. for one, that’s not his partner. he’s not the one who plucked kohane out of a crowd and he’s not the one who designated himself as her mentor and expected to always be the teacher and never the student.
that was all an.
that’s why this is hitting her so hard. she assumed that she was the natural talent of the vivids - and i’ll get to why that is in a second; bear with me. and no, akito does not feel this way about toya. at least not anymore.
akito’s able to pick up on what’s going on with an so, so easily because he’s extremely observant and emotionally intelligent for his age. and because yeah, he’s been through his fair share of struggling with abandonment issues and feelings of inadequacy.
key words: been through.
akito isn’t... over his problems by any means, but he’s already felt what an feels now. all the way back in middle school, when he and toya were just BAD DOGS. hell, he felt it during that soccer game that made him quit the sport altogether. and just... in general, with the way the shinonome household is, he’s well-versed in feeling untalented, and like he’s not special, and like he will never accomplish anything in his insignificant life.
he’s gone through this shit before. he’s confronted those nasty, traitorous feelings of jealousy and the fear and the despair, and he worked through them with toya. and they came out on the other side stronger and closer than ever.
i’ll get into why in just a second again, just keep bearing with me, but i need to stress that an has never been seriously challenged before. that’s why this is happening the way it is. that’s why she has no idea what these feelings are or how to deal with them. it will probably be easiest for her to lean on akito as she works through this because he understands best the very specific circumstances of her emotional turmoil:
“i picked some guy off the street and made them my partner and it turns out they’re better at singing than me.”
but akito is old friends with negativity and he knows how to channel it into positive energy, into something that will push him forward and push him to prove everyone wrong. and you know what? he’s finally getting somewhere.
“find a way out” was literally about him starting to realize that he’s not... just endlessly chasing after the rest of vbs anymore. he’s managed to close that distance he’s felt for the past... 325734254889 events.
performing against the musician that bullied him all those years ago let him see his improvement objectively. he’s better than he was in middle school, and he’s better than the guy who humiliated him and that guy improved too! that’s just how much akito has grown. he’s surpassed a lot of his limits, barriers that he once thought were impossible for him to overcome. he’s flying high above many, many people’s heads now. that is what akito started to realize that night. (and i say “started” since he kind of freaks out afterwards - because he’s not used to thinking of himself like that. he’s not used to being proud of himself. which breaks my heart but that’s getting off topic.)
the point is. akito is very, very close to overcoming this idea that he will always be the worst at everything he loves. or he’s hell of a lot closer to it than an is. and even if he’s not, he knows how to cope with those feelings and fight against them.
an doesn’t.
why? because like i said, she’s never been challenged. everything has almost always just been handed to her. i don’t mean that like she’s spoiled or something; i just mean... everyone has always looked at her and seen Shiraishi Ken’s daughter first and foremost.
“you want to learn to sing? hah! of course you do! you’re ken's daughter!”
“look at you go! of course you’re a natural at this! you’re ken's daughter!”
“you want to surpass RAD WEEKEND? well, if anyone’s got the abilities to do it, of course it’ll be ken’s daughter!”
this is the dialogue an has grown up hearing. just an endless mantra of: “you’re naturally talented / you’ll be fine / go and do your own thing / you don’t need any extra help / you don’t need any push or shove.”
“you’re ken’s daughter!”
think of it this way: what almost always happens to “gifted kids” in school? they start off miles ahead of their peers. they are separated from those peers. they are not given the same resources their peers are given because they don’t need them. inevitably, those children once praised for being so so so much smarter, so much more talented and special, fall behind as their peers begin to catch up. they weren’t given the tools they needed to continue growing, so they stagnate.
that’s close to what’s happening here with an. the rest of vbs has begun to grow beyond what she was able to achieve innately, and that scares her so fucking much. especially when it comes to kohane because there’s no way around it: an expected to always be better than her. not in a nasty, self-centered way, of course; that’s not the kind of person she is. this was just her subconscious expectation because that was how she was taught to think about herself. but now reality’s catching up to her, and she lacks the tools she needs to keep moving forward with everyone else.
she doesn’t need breathing exercises or extra warm-ups or anything like that. what she lacks is an emotional tool set. she doesn’t know how to cope with feeling inadequate and worthless and good lord it took her like an entire event to learn what jealousy is.
an is alone in her feelings right now. she can lean on her teammates - she can lean on akito especially. but she’s the only one that can free herself from these chains rusted over with fear. no one’s going to save her. no one can save her. as painful as it is, this is the push she needs. if she never learns to process and deal with these feelings, she’ll never be able to keep up with the people she loves.
but don’t take these somber words the wrong way. this is project sekai, after all! this is a game about love and friendship and growing up, and accepting your flaws and shortcomings and pushing yourself to be the best you can be - to always strive for a bright future.
an will be okay. vbs will be okay. it’ll sting for a bit, sure, but they’ll make it through.
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civilight-eterna · 17 days
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Hiii requesting horndragora, having an angry and steamy encounter in a Londonium alleyway
(cw: dubious consent, toxic yuri, enemies with benefits)
---
The order of "pin down the caster" was probably not meant to be taken so literally.
Horn had routed around Mandragora's cadre, covered by the debris that fell in the explosion, and at first contact, she'd managed to get behind her, far at the back lines of the fight.
A hand over her mouth and a chokehold later, and she's dragging the kicking feline into the back alley, unseen in the chaos.
"I'm not going to kill you. Just take a cat-nap until my squad passes over and I won't have to tear your head from your shoulders."
Mandragora's legs go weak faster than she expects them to and she staggers to kneel with her as she collapses to the ground, her knees splayed to either side of Horn's thigh.
They struggle for a few more seconds, in the interim of which, Horn realizes-
Mandragora is absolutely soaking between her legs.
It wouldn't be the first time someone has pissed themselves with fear while fighting with Horn, but that's precisely why she can tell that this isn't that. She's shocked, but not enough to loosen her grip.
"Are you-" Horn flexes her arm, tries to keep focused, but she can't seem to spit out the second half of her question-
-seriously about to cum from being strangled?
It's so beyond anything she could have fathomed that her arm slips in her distraction, and Mandragora throws her head back into her nose the next instant in a way that tells her she didn't even need to say it aloud. Heat trickles fast down both nostrils and through her bitten lip as the caster reverses her position, closes her hands around Horn's throat.
"Fuck, you-" She's coughing the words out. One of her eyes is red with broken blood vessels. Her hands aren't even that tight, or holding her in the right place to do the worst kind of damage. She's probably never been in a physical fight in her life where she had even glimpsed the 'winning' side. "Fuck you, you corn-fed Victorian cunt, it wasn't enough to try killing me? You wanted, to humiliate me too?"
Horn puts all her force into her legs, walking them inside Mandragora's guard to pound her feet hard into her chest. The feline goes flying through a brittle glass storefront, and when she chases her inside, she finds her scrambling to her feet, clutching a bleeding arm. A wall of rocks erupts behind Horn, sealing the door, the window, everything.
"Still want to blow us up, toy soldier?"
Horn growls, wordless fury building in her chest. Her team is on the other side, bleeding, enduring, and she can't clear it without burying them both.
"No, but maybe I'll use that hard head of yours as a battering ram if you keep talking." She wipes blood from her lip and flicks it across the floor.
A surge of energy bursts out of Mandragora and the rocks grow to triple their size, closing in the storefront, leaving about half the room to stand in. Horn staggers in the resulting quake and closes the distance between her and Mandragora, pouncing on her. A wolf on a kill.
Pin down the caster.
"You really want to die so badly?" Horn can't keep the sudden strain out of her voice.
"Don't you dare act like it's unbelievable or something! You don't get to pity me now-you're about a decade overdue! As if you have no idea how I've lived!" She's wiggling her wrists under Horn's grip, twisting from side to side in futile struggle.
"Oh, I've an idea," Horn breathes out, "'Mandragora'. Something that is ripped, screaming and crying, from the dirt. Did you choose that yourself? Or was it a 'gift'-" Her glare is molten, haloed in the curtain of wheat-colored hair obscuring them, "-from that beloved Leader of yours?"
Mandragora roars, thrashing and kicking, her fingers curling downwards and grasping, desperate to scratch.
"I'd do it again-I'd claw myself out from under as many bodies it takes to make you Victorians bleed even another drop-!"
Horn suddenly realizes how she's going to get them out of this.
It's unpleasant. It's nothing she would ever consider in any other circumstance.
She knows it'll work so she knows she's going to do it.
But it is all kinds of wrong.
"Alright, little feline-" Horn grimaces, and pushes her knee between Mandragora's legs, eliciting a scandalized gasp, "-bury us here, then. And when historians come to uncover us, maybe ten years from now, maybe one hundred years from now, they'll find Dublinn's caster and the 'White Wolf of Victoria'-"
She readjusts her arms, one around Mandragora's waist, the other raised to press a palm to her cheek in the most saccharine and overtly romantic display of affection she can imagine as she presses her forehead to hers.
"-locked together as star-crossed lovers that deserted their battlefield to die in one another's arms."
"You bitc-mmph-!"
Horn kisses her, hard, leans into her with her full weight, pulls at her slight waist and runs her fingers through her hair like she's never loved anyone else in her life.
Mandragora's nails destroy her back. She's screaming against her mouth, biting at her lips, but Horn readjusts for every inch of purchase she makes.
"Fucking Victorians-!" Mandragora howls, as Horn shifts her mouth over her throat, smothers it with bruising kisses, "-Faking's all you're good for-!"
"What about you?" Horn breathes into her ear, "Were you faking it when you nearly came from being choked out? Or are you that much of a pervert in general? Could it have been anyone but me behind you?" Horn strokes her hair out of her eyes, and Mandragora grabs her wrist so hard her nails are drawing blood.
"I don't know, I think you just love me that much that you would die in my arms."
There's something wrong with the kiss that follows. Tears prick the corners of Mandragora's eyes as she tries to force Horn back, but she's no match for her physical force. They're both exhausted.
The kissing becomes ever-so-slightly less performative on Horn's part. Mandragora's lips part just a touch wider, and even though Horn has been avoiding it, she finds her tongue sliding deep into her mouth.
"Hh...Hhah, fuck-" Mandragora whimpers, trembling with the urge to resist using her arts, overshoot her power. Horn's knee rubs slowly between her legs and she swears louder before she's silenced with an even deeper kiss.
"Mmhm." Horn exhales hard and gasps as Mandragora's cold hands slide under her tank, drag it up just over her breasts. This wasn't in the plan, she thinks distantly to herself.
"Victorian pig-" Mandragora spits, "-I bet you're, hah-used to sweating like an animal-on a leash with some crystal-studded plug up your ass, some noble's concubine because they pay big money to fuck their soldiers-"
Disgusting. Horn should be disgusted.
There should be no other emotions present at the revelation of such a filthy fantasy that her enemy has fashioned for her.
"You think about me a lot at night, don't you? All alone with your preoccupying hatred. Hope it keeps you warm, little feline."
"I was born from a grave. I've never been warm in my life."
"Then may my love for you sow warmth anew that entwines us together for the ages. I'll save you. You'll never be cold again under my embrace-"
"SHUT UP!"
The entire store quakes, the roof blowing off into the sky, the rocks vibrating so violently they become dust and powder overhead. Everything comes crumbling down.
On instinct, Horn throws her arms over Mandragora's head, ducks and covers until it's over.
They stare at one another. A voice from afar breaks the reverie.
"Aye! Captain?!"
They're both rolling away from each other, running opposite directions. Mandragora stops at the other side of the store, hand on the doorframe.
"-This never fucking happened, toy soldier."
"-Agreed."
(It's not the first lie they've told.)
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sofoulandfairaday · 9 months
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Do you have any Peter hcs? There's not a lot of content with him so I wondered if you had.
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Sorry for the late reply anon(s).
Truth be told... not many. I think Peter is a fascinating character but not one I spend a lot of time thinking about beyond his role in the canon, ergo it's hard for me to have headcanons about him. This is more of a meta post really, or at least a mix of meta & headcanons & general thoughts.
He always had a mean streak. I hate when he's portrayed in the fandom as someone who was super jolly good, a lovable bumbling idiot, or worse a clueless innocent little guy whom Voldemort just happened to bamboozle, or even worse a suave, smooth-talking ladies' man with even one (1) ounce of charisma. Much like Remus, he always feared his position inside their group, unlike Remus he really was the lowest in the pecking order. As such, he would always look for someone weaker than him to make up for it. This is very clear in SWM when he's described as laughing (roaring with laughter) and looking on with a look of avid anticipation and hungrily at Snape's humiliation and sexual harassment by his two popular friends.
He isn't academically brilliant, but that doesn't mean he's stupid. He was called dumb his whole life, by friends and foes alike... There is literally not a single character in the whole book series who doesn't talk to him condescendingly: Voldemort openly mocks him and shows him even less respect than he does to his fellow Death Eaters, Snape treats him like a servant, his own best friends call him dumb:
"How thick are you, Wormtail?" said James impatiently. "You run round with a werewolf once a month-" and "Put that away, will you?" said Sirius [...] "Before Wormtail wets himself from excitement". Wormtail turned slightly pink but James grinned.
And yet, he (1) does manage to become an Animagus, even though we can mostly ascribe this to James and Sirius' help; (2) blows up a street, killing twelve Muggles and framing Sirius for murder; (3) helps revive Voldemort at his weakest - which, I mean, Voldemort was definitely giving the orders and detailing how to make the potion etc, but this is an unusual level of competence, seeing what the standard for the Death Eaters in the second wizarding war is (DoM anyone? Twelve of Voldemort's best Death Eaters vs six Hogwarts fifth years? Pathetic display if you ask me)
Was definitely a bit of an errand boy for Sirius and James.
His best subject was Charms (12 Muggles, you guys) and his worst was Potions. My funny little headcanon is that he was so bad at it that Voldemort had a bad time trying to guide him in brewing that Rebirth Potion - the actual reason it took them a whole year.
Asked the Sorting Hat to be placed in Gryffindor. Peter Pettigrew is canonically a Hatstall between Gryffindor and Slytherin (source). My headcanon is that he asked the Sorting Hat to be placed in Gryffindor. Perhaps it was because the kind boy he had met on the train (Remus Lupin) had already been sorted into Gryffindor before him, or maybe it was because he was always attracted to greatness and Gryffindor is the House of valor after all.
He wasn't forced by Voldemort to give up the Potters' location or become a Death Eater. He went of his own accord. He started feeding Voldemort information a whole year before the Potters' death and he did so because Voldemort was winning the war. He had all but won. In my headcanons, 1979-1980 is his we are on the edge of a golden world moment. It all goes downhill from there. Peter was probably one of those people who fell inside Voldemort's web of charisma/intimidation. He was in equal parts scared and morbidly attracted, just like everyone else on that side.
I like the headcanon that Peter did most of the sketching on the Marauder's Map. It goes along well with my headcanon that he's a talented drawer and he made some mean caricatures of most students and faculty during his time at Hogwarts.
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spacecasehobbit · 2 years
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In spite of my pretty liberal blocking policy, I keep seeing this idea that Azula was betrayed by everyone she cared about, and that's what lead to her breakdown by the time Sozin's Comet arrived. I finally figured I'd put my two cents out there, though I'm putting it below a readmore. I like discussion and character meta, but I don't really want to incite a bunch of internet fights about what is at the end of the day a fictional character from a fictional kid's cartoon.
Azula wasn't betrayed out of nowhere by people who had no reason to leave; she was a bully, and her primary victims one by one refused to stay and help her cause more harm to others.
Azula consistently uses fear to control other people, starting from her first scenes in the show. She is also shown to be prone to bouts of irrational anger and impulsiveness just as bad as Zuko at his worst; unlike Zuko, she is her father's favorite and a known firebending prodigy who has the social and firebending power to make her impulsive anger and irrational demands much more potentially dangerous to those under her command.
The first time we see her in S2, she has been tasked with bringing Iroh and Zuko back to the Fire Nation as prisoners, on charges of treason for what happened at the North Pole.
Azula tells the silent crew of her ship that she will not hesitate to "bring them down" if any of them hesitate to act against two former crown princes - one of whom is also a former General known for his own powerful firebending - who are now considered traitors to the Fire Nation. She demands that the captain of her ship ignore the tides - a literal natural phenomenon that he would have no way of controlling - in order to bring the ship into port a few hours faster. She threatens her captain with death if he doesn't obey her irrational order, a threat he seems to take seriously when he chooses to risk getting the whole ship destroyed by the tides rather than go against Azula's irrational order.
She waits in Iroh and Zuko's room to catch them off guard; she lies to Zuko, using his deepest insecurities and his longing to be accepted by their father against him, all the while planning to put him and Iroh in chains once they're on the ship. Then, when one of her crewmen reveals the con too soon, she mocks Zuko with those same insecurities, baits him into anger that makes him sloppy, and nearly shoots him with deadly lightning after knocking him to the ground.
In her next episode, she terrorizes Ty Lee - and the entire circus in which Ty Lee has found a home where she is happy, by extension - until Ty Lee agrees to join her in hunting down Zuko and Iroh. Mai agrees to join Azula right away, but she still chooses to humiliate Mai's father in front of his family, pretends she is going to trade Bumi for Mai's baby brother only to call off the trade at the last minute with no advance warning even to Mai, and launches herself at the Avatar also with no warning to any of her allies the instant she sees him.
At the end of the episode, she tells Mai and Ty Lee that they have a new addition to their mission: capturing the Avatar - implying that this wasn't a part of her original mission, but rather that she has given herself this mission (the one thing her brother still clings to as his only chance of pleasing their father and earning his way back home in their father's eyes).
If Zuko goes home because she captured the Avatar, then he will be in her debt. As we see later in S3, if Zuko goes home because she captured/killed Aang and then lied to their father about it, Zuko will be both in her debt and in a position of maintaining her lie - with Azula once again giving no advance warning of her plan to her supposed ally, and thus forcing him to just react in the moment with no chance to prepare - or risk his own safety too.
Azula gives herself the task of capturing or killing the Avatar, she seems to give herself the task of capturing Ba Sing Se, and when she returns home at the start of S3 she chooses to lie to her father in such a way that Zuko will be forced to lie to him, too - with no chance to prepare himself or plan what to say - in order to keep them both safe.
Azula is smart, strong, and manipulative, and she relies on fear to maintain power over the people around her.
She is also a fourteen-year-old kid who grew up with a father who consistently encouraged all her worst, most destructive impulses.
She grew up the princess of an imperialist world power, the descendant of the man who started a war against the rest of the world that was still going 100 years later, the daughter of a man who praised her for exerting power over others. She grew up with a father who told her that strength was good and compassion was a weakness, a father who made himself Fire Lord by using his wife to kill his father and then banishing her for the very act that brought him into power.
And so Azula cultivates the traits that earn her father's praise, uses fear and emotional manipulation to control even her friends and brother, and responds with fury and threats of violence when anyone from whom she expects obedience so much as questions even her most irrational orders in a tone that suggests they might not obey.
Then Zuko leaves, not giving any advance warning of his actions to the sister who has a history of lying to him, manipulating him for her own benefit, and throwing him under the bus whenever it might help keep her safe and maintain her power over him.
Then Mai turns against her when she is about to kill her own brother, Mai's ex boyfriend who wanted her to care about things and who left because he realized that he cares about the world more than he cares about making his abusive, genocidal father proud, and Ty Lee turns against her to stop her from killing Mai in retaliation.
Finally, her father - the father she had lied to under the confident assumption that Zuko would never have the guts to expose her lie - seems to turn against her too, refusing to take her with him to burn the Earth Kingdom to the ground.
And that is what leads to Azula's breakdown. She has always relied upon her martial power, her status as her father's favorite, and her ability to read people to manipulate and control them. Discovering that she might not always know what the people closest to her are thinking, that they are capable of keeping secrets of their own from her and that her martial strength and threats of violence might not be enough to keep them in line through fear anyway, that is what shatters her foundation and leads to the breakdown we see by the time Sozin's Comet arrives.
It's a tragedy because she is a child, a child who grew up in a home soaked in cruelty and who internalized all of her father's worst lessons; but it is a tragedy of Ozai and Azula's making. Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee turned against her because she gave them no indication that she would be willing to prioritize anything, including their lives, over her goals and desires.
Azula learned how to treat everyone "beneath" her like tools that she had a right to use however she wished, including her brother and her supposed friends. The fact that they eventually stopped letting her use them to destructive ends does not make her breakdown their fault or their responsibility to fix.
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ae-neon · 1 year
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Reading Throne of Glass (1-3)
TW: mentions of slavery and suicide
Disclaimer;
I'm gonna be nitpicky but it won't reflect my overall enjoyment. Besides the racist Nehemia plotline (which I don't like at all) I don't mind the general vibe or story of ToG. Also because it's so popular I have been spoiled for the overall big points of the story like endgame ships and character death but I don't know anything about the world, the magic, the character personalities, histories etc
Chapter 1
I instantly prefer the 3rd person POV.
SJM loves using slavery - and like, the worst type of slavery - as trauma porn.
Notorious Assassin - are you not then just bad at your job? Why does everyone know it was you?
SJM knows how to write her protagonists being observant, it's maybe her best trait.
WAIT. WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING??
If they're escorting her and trying to confuse her or even just to treat her like a prisoner - why isn't she blindfolded?? Why not put a bag over her head?? Like SHE CAN SEE WHERE SHE'S GOING?????
Okay I know Chaol is gonna be important and a love interest at some point so he has to have a serious position despite probably being 17/18 - but CAPTAIN of the royal guard?? The whole royal guard?? Be fr. Just have him be the Prince's right hand or personal knight or something.
The Captain of the Royal Guard would be an interesting opponent. Maybe even worthy of some effort on her part.
She was scared of him 5 sentences ago:
...Chaol Westfall, Captain of the Royal Guard, and suddenly, the sky loomed, the mountains pushed from behind, and even the earth swelled toward her knees. She hadn’t tasted fear in a while—hadn’t let herself taste fear.
"How lovely it was to hear a voice like her own—cool and articulate—even if he was a nasty brute!" Sorry the slaves weren't well spoken and there aren't any political prisoners to keep intellectual company with
The only thing all the intended disorientation had accomplished was to familiarize her with the building. Idiots.
Yea, I agree, they are idiots - they should have blindfolded you
Why is this big manor?hall?thing? by the slave mines? Like so close it's literally next door to where they sleep
The world building is pretty good so far
"...the opulence felt like a slap to the face." sjm don't lie
Chapter 2
close-cropped chestnut hair >>>> team Chaol already
I might consider Celaena an icon for not bowing to the Prince, if I didn't know she ends the series as queen. What a waste.
I'll probably like Dorian but his words mean nothing. If he had a problem with people being forced to bow, he would have said something earlier.
Duke Perrington came from Rifthold to see the treasurer?? The treasurer doesn't live at court? Or at least in the capital?
(Gold crown+)...black doublet, an emblazoned gold rendering of the royal wyvern occupied the entirety of the chest. His red cloak fell gracefully around him and his throne.
Dorian's first outfit eating up all of Rhysand's 3 black on black outfits.
Black hair blue eyes, he was definitely the first endgame love interest. A YA classic.
Princes are not supposed to be handsome! They’re sniveling, stupid, repulsive creatures! This one . . . this . . . How unfair of him to be royal and beautiful.
This. And some other sentences (that also end with exclamations) come off as weirdly childish in their tone and don't fit with the rest of the writing. Eg
What a miserable state for a girl of former beauty!
Like stop. The vibe is she thinks she's gonna die and she's being humiliated by her enslavers. This is off
I won't rag on SJM's writing too much because she was young and it's her first novel but this:
At a passing glance, one might think her eyes blue or gray, perhaps even green, depending on the color of her clothing. Up close, though, these warring hues were offset by the brilliant ring of gold around her pupils. But it was her golden hair that caught the attention of most, hair that still maintained a glimmer of its glory. In short, Celaena Sardothien was blessed with a handful of attractive features that compensated for the majority of average ones; and, by early adolescence, she’d discovered that with the help of cosmetics, these average features could easily match the extraordinary assets.
"But now, standing before Dorian Havilliard as little more than a gutter rat!" Girl, stfu
Acotar ellipses >>> ToG exclamations
I like Dorian and I like the story of Celaena's escape attempt. BUT. It would have been better if Dorian and Chaol had heard the story and used it as their reason to recruit her - a hectic story that proved Celaena was not only all that her reputation said but also that the mines hadn't broke her.
Then later, when they have more of a connection, have Celaena reveal it was essentially a suicide attempt.
Secret business? The Crown Prince, the Captain of the Guard, a Duke and like a dozen + royal guards isn't exactly low profile. In fact, it's the highest fucking profile, Sarah
Chapter 3
Dorian 🤝 Cassian; ogling starved women's bodies.
"My father has gotten it into his head that he needs a Champion." Even Celaena knows the Champion is supposed to be a knight or a lord or a holy warrior or something, not an assassin and definitely not an enemy of the crown. If you need an assassin just hire her as one
No one gets hired in an sjm book without being offered a "considerable salary" I think she doesn't understand much about money irl
She barely heard his last few words. A competition! Against some nobody men from the-gods-knew-where! And assassins! “What other assassins?” she demanded.
“None that I’ve heard of. None as famous as you...
The exclamations... Also those assassins are better by simple virtue of not being famous
They're acting like she's weakened but honestly shouldn't she be absolutely shredded? Shouldn't her arm strength be crazy from a year in a mine?
...but could only recall a solitary line from the mournful bellowing of the Eyllwe work songs, deep and slow like honey poured from a jar: “And go home at last . . .”
SJM is actually so vile because I know this isn't gonna really matter in a way that centres these enslaved people.
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Overall not bad. I like these 3 characters and I much prefer 3rd person POV.
Celaena is a little erratic in her moods and thoughts but whatever.
Some nice hints of worldbuilding but also standard "sjm doesn't really understand the concept she's included"
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pb-dot · 11 months
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Why do I never rewatch Last Night In Soho?
Edgar Wright's Last Night In Soho is a strange movie for me. I enjoy a lot of the things it does, the otherworldly sleaze of the lighting, talented actors playing smart characters trying to figure out a mystery, truly jaw-dropping in-camera tricks to portray the impossible, and a saucy twist. It's the kind of movie I'd watch time and time again but somehow, I just can't make myself do it. More musings and Last Night in Soho spoilers under the cut.
Part of it, I suspect, is that Thomasin McKenzie is just too damn good at her job as the protagonist Eloise. She's instantly likable and does the naive enthusiasm of the young and ambitious with such intensity that I find myself entirely unwilling to, as it were, "put her through" the entire cavalcade of fear, humiliation, and doubt of her own sanity that is to follow by actually watching it play out.
It's odd because usually I watch horror movies for that specific niche. I love seeing characters going through fear, pain, and adversity and emerging stronger on the other side. The ghosties, ghoulies, and assorted monsters help to make the scenario sufficiently fictional-feeling, granted, but I get a similar rise from "man against nature/elements"-movies such as Fall.
It could easily be because the main source of horror actually is not the ghosts nor the time-traveling body swapping that lands Eloise in the increasingly unenviable nights of Anna Taylor-Joys fallen starlet Sandie, but rather how incredibly grim the lives of the two women get as the story churns along. Sandie finds herself forced into steadily more degrading sex work, and there are no ghosts or curses in play. The world has just historically been shitty to women, and although Eloise doesn't suffer from the same, she is still belittled, frequently harassed, and gaslit by her supernatural connection and the martial world both.
What really gets to me, I think, is that in the end, Eloise learns that her assumption that Sandie eventually got murdered was faulty and that she instead murdered her pimp boyfriend and several former clients, if not assaulters is the right term here. Not to go all #girlboss here, but frankly, who could blame Sandie? I'm not saying the girl deserves a medal, but surely Sandie is not a villain for this?
It is somewhat ambiguous whether the movie agrees with my take at all, seeing as Eloise's landlady, secretly an older Sandie all along, drugs Eloise and plans to kill her to ensure her crimes stay hidden. It's not an unrealistic reaction to learn your 60's crime spree has been discovered, granted, but it also makes the climax a bit of a bummer.
Eloise and Sandie are in such a powerful position to understand each other at this point. Sandie has been young, beautiful, and hopeful in a hostile city, and Eloise has literally been Sandie. I don't know what sort of peaceful compromise can be reached in this situation but attempted murder and accidental arson seems like a worst-case scenario. The movie to its credit seems to agree that this is a tragic one, but I'll argue that it's not a good tragedy if it isn't inevitable.
The movie does end on a happy note, but it doesn't quite fit, mostly because it didn't seem entirely connected with the rest of the story thematically. It's great that Eloise is doing better, of course, I could watch that girl succeed all day, but it hasn't really been the type of experience she has been having. She has withstood the world revealing itself to be a colder, eviler place than she thought, but she has reached no meaningful synthesis between this fact and her natural optimism. Things just working out for her right now, despite experiencing a small lifetime's worth of trauma and indignities. I guess it's nice if you can get it, but it doesn't feel true to me.
I don't really like to nitpick movies like this, especially movies that I like the vast majority of, but the ending in Last Night In Soho doesn't work for me, and it's probably because of this I haven't gotten around to rewatching it. I feel like there's a version of the movie, at least of the script, out there that I could really enjoy, and that's ever so slightly maddening.
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The thing that's stopping me from living my life to the fullest is literally so dumb and silly and it's my bone deep fear of someone who has power over me/authority figure being mean to me. Like government workers, doctors, the ppl selling bus and train tickets etc. There's this anxious scenario in my mind that always pops up whenever i have to take the bus somewhere and it always goes something like: i miss my last bus home because i didn't check the time/the bus left early/they gave me the wrong ticket and I'm panicking and now i have to tearfully ask the scary ladies selling the tickets if there's something they could do and they brush me off coldly and scold me for being late/ just dismiss me even if it was a mistake on their end and I end up stranded alone and scared.
This is just one example but there's hundreds, like maybe i don't know how something very important works (let's say taxes or bills or just paperwork/money in general) and i again have to go around asking these people who don't have the time nor the energy to gentle parent a legal adult through something they think is common knowledge and so i get yelled at or passive aggressively insulted at worst and at best i just don't end up receiving the help i need because i was too afraid to ask for clarification on things i don't understand since i felt like questions would annoy the person I'm talking to and annoyance often leads to aggression.
Basically I'm afraid that no one in the world will show me kindness or patience when I'm in a vulnerable position, and thus i don't put myself in unpredictable situations. I can't go somewhere I've never been to on my own, i can't start a long term commitment that requires lots of paperwork because that means i actually have to go and get that paperwork from a hundred different places and have a hundred different interactions with people who might be or might not be in the mood for my bullshit, i can't call in sick for work because that means having to go to the doctors and having to ask for a slip of paper that says that i am indeed sick and i need to get that paper delivered to my place of work and then when i get better i have to go again to have them say that i am not sick anymore and i have to do it all perfectly with no fuck ups because if i don't then it gets even more cumbersome and complicated and convoluted and i just —can't. I can't deal with this.
I remember in freshman year of high school the city passed this new system of getting monthly passes for public transport, it used to a paper ticket and since i knew where to get it and how i was fine, but then they introduced cards that you press against a scanner in the bus and if you had the old paper one it just wasn't valid anymore. I remember i was so scared to get that stupid card because the papers i had to fill out became different and they changed the location of the booth. Like i was in tears almost. I just didn't know how to do it. I couldn't ask my parents because they don't really know anything about anything, and i was too scared to ask my peers because i didn't want them to view me as an incapable cry baby. And so i just. Didn't do it. I just walked to school for the remaining three years.
The first time i had to use an ATM on my own i was watching instructional videos on youtube like my life depended on it, i wrote that shit down ffs. I was so afraid that I'd make a mistake somehow or that the other people waiting there to use the ATM would know I've never used one before. It went well but i still felt so sad and somehow humiliated. I couldn't even feel proud of myself for figuring it out because i was too ashamed that something so simple made me stay up late worrying.
I just don't know why I'm like this. It might've started in middle school, i recall the other kids making jabs at me when i'd be trying to have a normal conversation, i remember insults would be levelled at me regarding my weight and the way i look directly or indirectly from time to time (in gym class mostly) so i walked on eggshells often, trying not to provoke anyone into picking on me because i knew they'd go for the lowest hanging fruit which was also my biggest insecurity (my appearance) but i wasn't actively bullied, just... excluded. I was left alone for the most part, and even that was actually partly self imposed because i genuinely just didn't share any interest with the kids in my grade. So maybe it's my mom? That's a very Freudian conclusion, but my mom is a passive aggressive woman, she wants you to read her mood and if you don't read it correctly and act accordingly she does the typical angry mom things like: wash the dishes loudly whilst mumbling to herself, going around the house and saying that everything is a mess, how she can't believe her child is so lazy and ungrateful etc. But like. Loads of people's mother's are like this, even worse actually, because despite her faults i know my mother loves me and i know people who can't say the same. And even if the above mentioned things did leave an impact, I'm genuinely baffled as to how the hell they could've left an impact that is so huge and debilitating considering that i didn't even have it so bad, i didn't have it bad at all actually when you compare my situation with that of someone who's less fortunate. And i know that comparing situations isn't the right way to go about this but like come on. Really? A few kids were mean to me here and there and my mom would be angry sometimes and now I'm this? There's people my age out there who went through unimaginable pain and suffering both physical and mental and they're out there doing shit and living on their own and handling their business.
I'm angry at myself, not for feeling hurt about the mean things kids would say in my formative years or for the shame I'd feel when my mom would catch an attitude, no, I'm angry that i never got the fuck over it. Like, why didn't i deal with it by becoming loud and boastful? Or by becoming determined to prove them all wrong? Why don't i have that fire in me to adapt and overcome? Why do i just always give up?
I'm just so genuinely tired of myself and my bullshit. I want to go to college. I want to move away. I want to become independent and strong. I want to have spontaneous experiences. I want to gain more knowledge about the world through first hand experience. I wanna face adversity and persevere. I wanna fucking live man but I'm just so chicken shit about every little thing and i live in a constant state of anxiety and checking and double checking and checking if i double checked and getting scared when plans change and getting scared that I'll have something bad happen to me or to someone that i love and I'm constantly fucking observing myself and the way I'm perceived, i think about my thoughts and why i think them constantly, I'm never fully present, i feel like I've gone too deep into myself and i don't how to get out. I just want it all to stop. I wanna be normal.
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dzpenumbra · 1 year
Text
1/7/23
I had a lot of positive things I was carrying into today. I had momentum. I had motivation. I had confidence. Even despite being woken up like 4 times by my upstairs neighbors. I got up, I stopped myself from "helping" some local person realize that their crusade against the entire Goodwill chain was really because they were upset that the branch manager was rude to them when they denied their donations a week after new years, at the busiest and most stressful time of year. I didn't comment, I walked away. I was better for it.
I did my yoga. Brutal. I felt weak. I was weak. I fell over. I shook. I felt faint. But I made it through it. And I reminded myself that I've done 30 day challenges like this every year since the pandemic started, and every year I complete them. This will be no exception. Day 5, done.
I showered. I listened to an album that I haven't had good associations with since college. That two broken, damaged, unfair relationships ruined for me. And I vowed to reclaim that album. Its beauty should not belong to pain alone. It deserves to be appreciated, not feared. And I made it through the whole thing.
I got my TV. I paid 50 bucks for some woman to drive the thing 8 minutes to my door and have me take it out of her fucking car because she "dislocated her shoulder". The frustration of this didn't really hit until the walk back to the apartment. I was fucking awake anyway. I was up and moving anyway. I was just so fucking frustrated with myself. All because of this stupid trauma and anxiety shit swarming around me because I have a fucking wolf at the door every goddamn day. And I'm baiting the fucker to my door. And I answer the fucking door like almost every goddamn day. Like an idiot. I'll clarify in a second.
I sorted boxes. Finally. I took my momentum from getting my TV and transmuted it into sorting my recycling, breaking down boxes and organizing. The plan being, when the TV was done, I could break down that box too. Then I can load all the boxes into the cart and bring them up to the recycling and get it over with. Keep the ball rolling, always keep the ball rolling. Thats my strat, it's literally the only way I get shit done. What happened, you ask? Oh, I'll get there, don't worry. Don't wanna glaze over this bittersweet gem.
I got two simultaneous texts when I was in the shower. Surprising, because I never get texts. I mean that. I never get texts. So I heard the sound and I legit assumed it was part of the music. One was my mom, asking if I needed any support today. The other was my sister in law. My sister in law was letting me know that she and my brother and nephew (who I haven't even met yet, he's getting pretty close to a year old now) were nearby and wanted to see if it was cool if they dropped by. My place is an absolute warzone. It makes me wonder if they've ever really... even seen what any of my houses look like. I honestly don't think they have. I mean, the entire perimeter of my main room is packed cardboard boxes full of my possessions. I have barely any furniture. I look like I moved in yesterday. It's been over a month. It's humiliating. And it's really not kid-safe. And the worst part, it's 100% a mental health thing. And I really shouldn't have to explain myself. But if I don't it is kinda unfair to other people to blindside them with this when they show up.
I let my sister in law know that my place was a mess and... well... my confidence was high so I said if they wanted to they could feel welcome to drop by. I'd swallow that pill for the chance to finally meet my nephew. Here's the part that I didn't really process, that I'm just processing now. They were in town meeting a potential babysitter. You know, looking for child care. While I'm 20 minutes away, unemployed, have trouble leaving my house and I haven't even met my nephew yet. And I have several months experience babysitting my "former godchild" at the exact same age. And I'm just... not considered. Again, I would wager because of mental health. Or just... not getting to know me. No clue. Fucking odd that I'm not even considered for dogsitting, I just lost my fucking dog 6 months ago and it doesn't even pop into their heads that maybe I might miss it a bit? That maybe 10 years of experience raising the same breed of dog alone might be enough to qualify me? And maybe I could use some cash? Because I'm technically unemployed and I have no income? Like... I'm not kidding... it's really fucking weird that the babysitting thing... I used to get my goddaughter to nap and keep myself entertained, our compromise, was to put on Twilight Zone, the original series. She'd conk right out and I'd have something cool to watch. And now, this shit just feels like I'm straight up in an episode of it. I mean that genuinely, it's a big part of why I can't even smoke weed right now. Because I start to feel like I'm actually in some kind of fantasy series or something, that this is fiction, that some trickster god is fucking with me, or aliens or interdimensional beings or something. Because how could this be fucking real life?!
Glad I missed that (sarcasm), because besides overcoming the yoga obstacle... that was the best thing that happened today. I started setting up the TV and I was concerned about putting it on my glass-top coffee table. I called my mom to get her opinion. It started okay. Then I started setting up the TV. The setup stuff was kinda in broken english, which is always... it kinda feels like a bad sign? Like maybe corners were cut? You know? And a little anxiety about that whole "maybe this is was a bad investment, maybe i picked the wrong TV" came up. But I squelched it pretty quick. Then it came time to get my TV connected to the wireless router. And guess who hasn't entered his wireless password in... oh god... over 2 years? Because my PC and Xbox were hardwired and my phone/laptop just autosaved. Guess. It was me. I forgot my wifi password. But hey, check it out, Xfinity is super convenient, right? I remembered that their app lets you just pull up the app on your phone and hit a button and you can get right into your router, don't even have to do any of that admin browser entry shit. So I pop open the app and log in. 2-factor hits me, of course. Then I'm in and my fucking account says "INACTIVE". Yep. And the address is my old address. Yep.
So I try to get my mom to get into her account, in case... for some mysterious reason... it was set up in her name. She forgot her password. She tried to get me to give her my login and my password, for some reason. After like 10 minutes, I made it pretty fucking clear that I really do not feel comfortable reading out my login and my password out loud with paper-thin walls in my apartment building. It just started off with that goddamn tone where it was like... she was just doing whatever the fuck she wanted and she "knew best". Like what the fuck do you even need my password for? I'm literally logged in right now. You need YOUR password. Can you tell I'm angry? Well stuffing that down and repressing it for 3 fucking hours of pulling teeth will do that. Every time I asked for something, every time I asked a question, just fucking goddamn stonewalled. Like, I shit you not, I asked 4 consecutive questions and she flat-out acted as though the Men in fucking Black came in and neurolyzed her. Like I never even spoke words. I had to check to make sure I wasn't muted. But she was straight up fucking ignoring me and dodging. And I'd bring attention to it. "Hey, I've asked you a like 3 questions now and you haven't answered, can I get that information please?" and just... deflection. Dodging.
So why the fuck did I stick around this? Why was my hand glued to the goddamn lit stove? Because I do not have access to my own internet account. If anything goes wrong with it, I'm fucked. I don't have the password, it's not in my name, if I call support I strongly doubt they'd give me access without confirmation from the account holder. Because she owns that part of my life. And this has been done "for my convenience" for almost 2 decades. I got my rent out from her control. I got a few other things out too. But my internet is apparently in her name. And my insurance. And my car insurance. And my car itself. Which is why my car has been sitting idle in a dealership lot not being repaired, they haven't even ordered the parts. And they haven't even spoken to me. Because her name is on the fucking car. I'm 30 goddamn 6. I didn't choose this. I've literally known no other way. This is how things have always been. I mean that. I had no idea this wasn't normal until really recently. And I really feel like I'm in some kind of Britney Spears conservatorship or something, I don't know. It scares me, because I endured some really fucking abusive shit tonight. Like having the 3 hour dragging feet, power struggle, making shit difficult bullshit being blamed on me because I have memory problems. That I literally can't do anything about. That hurt me more than anyone else. I actually have to leave notes around the house for myself to remember to get basic things done. It's not an easy life when you live fucking alone. Shit falls through the cracks every goddamn day, every hour, it feels like.
I had to hang up again. I was very clear dozens of times that what was happening was not okay, and that it's a repeat of the same fucking problem over and over, and I was just told over and over that I brought it on myself. That it was warranted because she was simply "defending herself". And she wasn't even trying to control herself. Not even attempting. She was just... right. And I was wrong, and "aggressive" (not stressed, not frustrated, not having his problem be taken over by a geriatric woman who was not welcomed and asked several times to stop, "aggressive"), because that justifies her anticipatory "defense".
I get stressed with a problem. The "supporting" person misreads my stress as aggression towards them. The "supporting" person does not verify this assumption, but acts on it by "defending" aka retaliating. I get my ass beat by my "support" for being legitimately stressed out about a real problem I'm having. Totally healthy.
Now I guarantee that at least 2 of my neighbors heard my side of the argument. Oh fuck, I almost forgot the best part! Oh so my dad decides to barge into her room and just start talking to her when she was on the phone, and I asked her to relay a message to him and guess what? He fucking responded. Because I was on goddamn speakerphone the whole time. Yep. So next time, I'm super tempted to put her on speakerphone so that my neighbors can witness the entire reality show. Not just think I'm a complete asshole. Like I just fucking moved in and already it's like... fuck. AAAGHGHHHH.
My depression was at an all time high before this. It's been escalating super rapidly. I've been very open about this. And this is the second brutal beating in 3 days. I had one day of recovery. ONE GODDAMN DAY. And now. I feel like I've been up for a week straight. I've gotten one good night's rest in 2 fucking weeks. I feel like Christian Bale in The Machinist. I mean that. The skin on my face feels... tight and clammy. My cheeks feel sunken. My posture is like bullets are flying over my head at all times. I have bags under my eyes. I am constantly tense and in pain at all times.
So I reached out at 11PM, I called. Stupid, but I wanted to communicate clearly. I left a message. "Congratulations, you broke me. I need a list of all of my accounts that are in your name by 4PM tomorrow." I can't be the monk anymore. I'm too weak. I'm not going to lash out. I'm not going to explode. But I'm not hiding the fucking truth anymore. My will was broken today. Over a fucking wifi password. OVER A FUCKING WIFI PASSWORD. AND THE PASSWORD WAS FUCKING PASSWORD, OKAY?!?! AAGGGHHH. I am fucking human just like all of you, I have feelings too, very very strong ones. And this is the extent of how much I'm willing to express this one. Suffering and anger swirling together because my ability to live my life is being blockaded by a control freak who constantly shames me for not "being independent". I'm broken. And having a moment of weakness. But even in that moment, I have the clarity to know exactly what I need to fucking do. I need to be free. I. Need. To. Be. Free.
No more punishment because I didn't phrase things the way they wanted. No more looming threats. No more dangling friendship, bonding, affection, and social support... and making me pay prices like this and come out with less than I started. No more weaponizing my own mental health struggles against me. The only reason I dealt with this today was because that account is not in my name, I cannot legally access it and I don't even know where to start with getting legal counsel. I even tried to get the account changed to my phone number so I can change the billing info myself and access the router, talked to some dude in fucking India to get it set up and they didn't do it. I've already had my power, heat and cable shut off from missed bill payments and shit at my old place because of this "help" and "support" I'm getting. Just because I've never done this before and I have executive functioning struggles doesn't mean this is a guaranteed failure if I take these responsibilities on. It's scary as fuck to take on so much shit I've never done when I'm like... on the edge and super overwhelmed already, but I have to. Because paying this price?! Paying this price, I'm gonna be dead before I hit 50.
I'm not even leaving the house! The primate graphic novel idea was a great inspiration, but also a really great therapeutic tool, and I had a vision come to me yesterday of primate Me cowering inside the door and a bunch of gigantic beasts gnashing their teeth outside. Guess what? They ain't outside. They're in my phone. They're in my eardrums. They're crawling into my mind. Almost every single day. I can lock my doors, I can barricade the windows. And they still get in. Because I welcome them in. Because I, from the bottom of my soul, with every ounce of optimism I have, try to keep faith that people are redeemable. That they can change. And I give so fucking much of myself, my entire life, to support that effort. And I just get shit on for it.
So, fuck it. I gave it 3 years of trying. GG. Call me when you find God.
I found myself having a very dark thought earlier, and I want to be completely honest about it so I can not just shrug it off. So I can process it and move forward with it in mind. My cat is going to be 17 in about 2 months. She has osteoarthritis, hypothyroidism and kidney disease. She's a scrappy motherfucker, she always has been, but I'm afraid she may not have much time left. My dog is already dead, she died in July. I have no friends. You know what they say, "you can tell who your real friends are when the chips are down"? Yeah. Sad, but true. I have no family. Not really. My father was never a father. My brother flipped out on me because I asked him if he wanted to make music with me, and if he wanted a free art lesson while my landlords came over to inspect my house, to get my mind off shit, to distract me. My other brother hasn't had a real conversation with me since early high school, and communicates with me extremely rarely through his extroverted wife. That's all I got folks. So... my cat is really all I have left. Because I have to really strongly consider that my mom cannot actually stop herself from crippling me.
So what happens when my cat dies? All I will have is my art, my writing and my music. And without financial support from my parents, I'm pretty damn sure that's going down the drain too. No way I'm paying these bills on that kind of salary. So... yeah. That might be curtains. I mean. What kind of life is it really if I can't be myself? If I can't fulfill my purpose? How is that living? In this life, yes, I suffer greatly. Regularly. Likely shaving years off of my life. But at least I get to pursue my passions. When I'm not just perpetually recovering from the last brutal emotional beating. With the world the way it is now, with no connections in any field, not even any contacts... I don't see it happening. I see myself working somewhere, anywhere that I can. Just to get money. Just to keep food in the cupboards that are already bare. Just to keep a roof over my head. I will not be living. I will be surviving. And I honestly don't really know if that's a life I want to live, to be honest. I can't live a fulfilling life, I cannot fulfill my life's purpose, if I am merely surviving. The gifts that I have can not function when I am in survival mode. Ask Rimworld, they added it as an an actual game mechanic. Inspiration comes when good mood is sustained. Mental break comes when bad mood is sustained. Two sides of the same coin. I will be reduced to a miserable laborer, grinding the days away until I find the sweet release of death. And that's not a life, that's not living. So, I'm keeping that in mind.
This is insanely dark. I want to apologize, I feel compelled to. But I'm tired of apologizing for my own pain. I just need to get my pain out a bit, because I currently don't have any other coping mechanisms besides distraction and yoga, and I'm sore. Weed will make this worse, I've thought it over a dozen times and I really believe that right now. Drinking is not available, but I'm starting to strongly consider it. Prescriptions are not a thing for at least a month. Cigarettes have been dangling in my peripheral view for days now, I can hear their siren's song every day. "We can solve all your problems, my dear." For a price.
So, this is where my stress has to go.
I don't know what to do. I don't even know if I can sleep. It's 3:30 again, I'm exhausted, but I'm fucking terrified. And just... wounded.
But hey. At least I broke down some of those pesky cardboard boxes, huh? I'm sure cleaning my house will make shit right as fucking rain.
I've tried so hard to be a beam of pure light for as many others around me as I can be. And that light is a barely flickering ember right now. Even Jedi have their limits.
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bugscrew-diary · 1 year
Text
Late night ramblings about some work and some trauma and some nightmares... all the same really.
I said in my last post that I would be going out to do deliveries after I wrote the post, and I actually did try. I scheduled my delivery time and was about to walk out the door, but there was snow on the ground. I didn't expect to see it at all considering I hadn't looked outside all day and it was the first snow of the year. I think this wouldn't be a problem for most people but driving on snow scares me, especially with the context that it was 33 degrees and my weather app predicted rain. The only thing that sprung out in my head at that point was There's just gonna be ice everywhere and you're gonna crash your car. To be fair to myself, this is a valid fear because I crashed my car in these exact conditions last year. So moral of the story, I didn't go do deliveries.
I think I decided as soon as I saw the snow that I wasn't going, but I stood for a few minutes lying to myself that I might gather the courage and just go work. My dad was sitting on the couch and I have a weird fear of disappointing him, especially in small contexts like that. It's just a few hours of work, but in my head, rejecting that in front of my dad is just a display of weakness and laziness. This is a bigger thing for me than I usually realize. Every time I am put in the position I was put in last night, I feel like I am 14 again, suicidal, being taken to the psych ward because my last straw was being called weak for quitting my first job.
In reality, I made the right choice then. There's literally no good reason for a 14 year old to be working 10-12 hour work days in the blazing sun, even if it did pay a lot. And that's not even the reason I quit. The real reason was that one of my coworkers was taking advantage of the fact that he knew I liked him and would do a lot to gain his approval. His job was difficult so he would always ask me to help him, and of course I would do it because I thought he was asking me to come with him because we were friends. But as the days went on, he asked me to do more and more, and eventually, I was basically just doing his job for him while neglecting my own. It actually got to a point where I didn't want to do so much of his work anymore, but I also didn't really know how to just say no yet. I was just an anxious kid. Saying no felt like telling someone you smashed their phone by accident or something.
It culminated one evening, when he asked me to help him with some of his work at the end of the shift. It really wasn't even a big deal this time because I typically finished my work early, and the coworkers who did the same job as me usually just left when they were finished. I had to wait there though, because I went to work with my cousins, who did jobs that required them to stay longer. My coworker needed to carry some trash bags to the dumpster out back, so we each took a bag and started walking. I started to notice that I was getting some looks from other coworkers, but didn't really understand why. I turned around and my stomach felt like it could have actually dropped out of my body. I was hauling this heavy ass, filled to the brim trash bag that I could barely carry. When I turned around, I saw that he was carrying just one, barely used trash bag in one hand, and a milkshake in the other. Everyone knew this was happening right behind me, except for me. It was such an obvious thing for someone to have noticed, it looked like I was doing it on purpose. Doing the bulk of his work while he simply watched me. There was no effort for him. He was getting paid to watch me do his job instead, for everyone to watch me do his job instead. He humiliated me.
He humiliated me there and it wasn't even the worst part yet. Well, logically, that was the worst part. However, the worst part for little 14 year old me was that after all of that, when we were all going home, we saw each other again, and he didn't even say bye to me. I waved and he looked directly at me and acted like I didn't even exist. Like the eye contact we made was nothing but the coincidence of his eyes passing me before landing on something else. Sometimes I still think he must have just not seen me, but I know that's not the case. I felt humiliated, and weak, and taken advantage of after that. I was nervous to go back to work the next week. I didn't want to ever see him again, so I made sure I didn't. I just never went back. Anyway, when my dad found out I quit, I was too embarrassed to tell him the real reason. I don't even think I fully understood that what happened to me was wrong. I don't think I could have coherently explained why I quit because I didn't fully realize why my fear of him was actually valid until much later.
But I actually think made the right choice yesterday too, anyway. It's not always about courage. I would have been driving around in the dark in conditions I didn't feel comfortable in, going on streets I had never gone to before, and probably encountering situations that could end in a crash, one way or another. It might have been perfectly safe to go out, but I don't think I made the wrong choice by deciding it wasn't. What's a few hours of work in the grand scheme of things? I don't think there was a "wrong" choice.
I think if there was a fear of losing something, it was the motivation I had at the time of writing yesterday's post. I struggle with losing momentum, but it's usually because there's no momentum to begin with. I trick myself into thinking that any effort at something is "momentum," so I stop trying to make myself do the thing almost immediately because I trick myself into thinking I'll just be in the swing of things forever now. I thought because I got this sudden burst of motivation, I'd be killing that "momentum" by refusing to go out and do deliveries and putting it off until today. That's actually not what happened at all because I went out and did deliveries twice today.
The morning was pretty slow. I woke up around 9am from a really unsettling and quite gory dream. I don't remember every little detail like I do for some of my dreams, but what I do remember is that the dream was basically about a little boy. He couldn't have been older than 10. The dream was framed almost like a verbal story about him even though I was seeing images of what was being told to me. It was about how much of a good kid he was and how he was good at sports and I think he had superpowers or something but basically the moral of the story is that he seemed like a really good kid, but he got bullied by another kid. And then the dream took a sudden turn because it moved to a classroom and I was basically told that he was murdered by his bully and I saw his gory body just dead in the classroom. It wasn't even a body at that point, it was just gory sludge that I only knew was the remains of the boy through the context of what I was told in the dream. I actually just remembered the boy had a name, Joey. Anyway, I was suddenly in the classroom and I ran out into the hallway crying and trying to hide in a room. I cried harder in this dream than I ever have in real life. I remember I was crying so hard that it caused some kind of physical effect but I don't remember what it was, just that it was bad.
I guess I had formed some kind of connection with this imaginary boy over the course of the dream, because even after I woke up I felt really bad. I knew if I wanted to catch lunchtime for deliveries, I would have to get up soon, but I spent a really long time just consoling myself from the nightmare with sweeter daydreams. It's a sordid excuse considering, valid or not, I blew off deliveries last night, and at that point I was just either being a baby about it, or really just enjoying the milder and kinder morning daydreams. However, that is the real reason I was late on starting lunchtime deliveries even if it is a stupid reason. I don't actually think it's stupid, though, so I don't know why I wrote that as if it should be negative. I still did my deliveries and even went out again for dinner and killed it for a Wednesday.
I don't know, this has just devolved into rambling and it's taken me way too long to write so I'd better just send it off. I want to talk more about feminism and how I feel about my friends soon, so hopefully I'll actually give them each separate posts dedicated to their topics and not just keep doing this daily log of all my thoughts for the day. I do also kind of like this format though, I just have to get all these thoughts out so I can make them shorter and have them not take me over an hour to write.
Hopefully I'll have a dream to log tomorrow or something. Goodbye.
-parker
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guzhuangheaven · 3 years
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Guzhuang Appreciation Month: badass dialogues
(but in the novel)
legend of ruyi :: ep 5 // ep 78
This drama is so amazing, demonstrated by these two scenes. Here you have Ruyi and Hongli watching the same play at two different stages in their lives. In episode 5, they are still clearly in love and are happy watching the play together, leaning lovingly against each other and moving in unison as one. They are also being watched fondly by Aruo, who has yet to have ideas of betraying Ruyi. Many years later, in episode 78, we have Ruyi and Hongli watching the same play, but they are physically far apart and their emotional distance from each other is also clear on their faces. They are literally being divided by the presence of Ling Yunche standing between them.
I find the parallel between the closeups of Aruo and Ling Yunche the most heartbreaking, because Aruo, despite how happy she looks for them in ep 5, would eventually try to break Ruyi and Hongli apart. And yet for all her efforts, she never succeeds because Hongli never actually believes her. On the other hand, Ling Yunche never tries to get in between Ruyi and Hongli, but just the mere presence of him is enough for Hongli to drive a wedge between himself and Ruyi. The presence of Aruo and Ling Yunche in this scene drives home the stark contrast in how the relationship has deteriorated between Ruyi and Hongli, and how Hongli went from trusting Ruyi despite all evidence against her to believing the worst of her despite no real evidence. 
What is even more heartbreaking is the play they are watching. It’s not made very clear in the drama, but the plot of the play has great significance in the novel. The play they are watching is called 墙头马上 / Over the Wall and Atop a Horse. The play is based on the poem 井底引银瓶 Silver Vase at the Bottom of the Well by Bai Juyi.
The poem by Bai Juyi, writes of a broken relationship/friendship where two people once lived happily in harmony, then one person wronged the other, causing the other person to leave and never come back; the relationship is thus severed. 
When the poem was adapted into the play 墙头马上 / Over the Wall and Atop a Horse, the play tells the story of Pei Shaojun falling in love at first sight with Li Qianjin when she was standing by a wall and he was on a horse riding by her house. The two then eloped, and lived together for seven years, having two children together, before they were discovered by Pei Shaojun’s father. Upon the discovery, Li Qianjin was condemned for getting into a clandestine relationship and Pei Shaojun caved to parental pressure and divorced her. She went back to her hometown. Many years later, after having achieved political success, Pei Shaojun went looking for Li Qianjin again, and just happened to discover that the two of them were actually engaged as children. In the play, they then reunited, got remarried and lived happily ever after.
There is however a plot point in the Ruyi novel, where Qingying does not like the ending of the play, feeling that the happy ending was forced. In the novel, Hongli and Qingying only know each other in passing at first. Then on the day that Hongli chooses his wives, Qingying is made to attend by her aunt. Before the selection ceremony, everyone is invited to watch a play, and Hongli chooses Over the Wall and Atop a Horse. Qingying, because she dislikes the happy ending, asks the theatre troupe to change the ending of the play so that in the end, Li Qianjin does not actually get back together with Pei Shaojun but stays firm in her resolve to end the relationship between them. After the play ends, Qingying leaves before the selection, but Hongli becomes intrigued by her changed ending and chases after her. This conversation below ensues, in which you can see clearly how Qingying’s belief on the matter stayed constant with her through the years. In fact, she practically predicts her own fate later with her changed ending.
~*~
Qingying stepped lightly ahead, her gown fluttering in the breeze like a white butterfly in flight. Aruo’s face was robbed of all colour and she was crying in despair. “Gege, what is wrong with you? Everything was well, why did you change the ending of the play? If Huang Hou Niang Niang hears about it, what will you do?”
Qingying shrugged. “At most, Aunt will just scold me a little. I just don’t like that ending. Today, I finally got to see how it should be played out. I’m so happy!”
“Gege might be happy,” Aruo said miserably, “but today is the consort selection. If Gege you are not chosen, then what would we do?”
Qingying’s aunt had already intended her to be the Third Prince’s bride, and now that was not successful, she should be pushed to the Fourth Prince instead? If they needed this one forced marriage to prolong their family’s glory, would that mean all women of the Ulanara clan were little better than slaves? It would be better this way. Regardless of whether she succeeded at being chosen to be a prince’s consort or not, she got to see things done her way, for once.  
She only managed a few steps more when suddenly a voice called behind her. “Qingying Meimei!”
No one had ever called her that before. Everyone in the palace simply called her “Qingying Gege”. Curious, she turned her head to find that Hongli was chasing after her.
Thinking that he must wish to reprimand her, Qingying made herself as small as possible.
Hongli only laughed. “I chased after you to comfort you. Xiyue Gege was rude in speech, I feared that you would be offended.”
“Offended? About what?” Qingying asked in a low voice. “Fourth Prince, do you mean to mention the fact that I was rejected by the Third Prince?”
Hongli nodded, frowning. “I only fear such talk will destroy your reputation.”
Qingying laughed, all her teeth showing, against all rules of decorum, which seemed to astonish Hongli.
“I don’t care!” she declared. “There are many things that women can’t necessarily decide for themselves, such as marriage, or family. But at least, I can decide whether to mind those mocking talks, whether to care about them and let them hurt me.”
Hongli looked sad for a moment, whispering, “Your family…” But then he trailed off. Then, with a humourless smile, he said, “Over the Wall and Atop a Horse is the play I chose myself, why did you not like the ending and asked them to change it? I pick a plum blossom, lean against the wall. / You ride off among the bending poplars*. Is that not a lovely image?”
“Yes, it is very nice, it’s just…” Qingying thought a moment then said, “Over the wall and atop a horse we gaze at each other. / I know you, too, must be heartbroken*. From this beginning, the play is full of conflicts, ups and downs, all very compelling, yet in the end, there is a forced happy ending, everyone is forced to be happy, I really don’t like it at all.”
[* excerpts from the poem by Bai Juyi]
Hongli looked displeased, asking, “To be able to mend a broken mirror, husband and wife reunited and at peace again, is that not good?”
“When Li Qianjin was being insulted by Pei Shaojun’s parents, he did not protect her. He watched her leave in humiliation and did not stop her, as if all the love and years they shared did not matter. Such a heartless and weak man who dares not protect his woman, why would Li Qianjin want to get back together with him?”
Her voice was soft, but also full of conviction. Even though it went against Hongli’s beliefs, he wanted to keep her talking.
“To be reunited and together in harmony is the wishes of all families on earth. If Pei Shaojun is willing to start over, why would Li Qianjin not forgive him?”
“Why must a woman always forgive a man for his failings? Wouldn’t that teach the man that it doesn’t matter what hurt he causes? I don’t care, if he hurt her, she shouldn’t forgive him.”
“Women must be soft and gentle, and give into her husband. If she sacrifices a little, bears a little hurt feeling, they can be reunited, isn’t that happiness?”
“If she must be hurt, must sacrifice herself for this forced reunion, then it is already not a good marriage,” Qingying said stubbornly. “In my eyes, Li Qianjin is a woman who is willing to walk away, to severe the relationship, because all trust is gone.”
“If she walks away, wouldn’t that mean she spends the rest of her life alone? Everyone has their own difficult moments, if Li Qianjin is so stubborn, Pei Shaojun is put in a difficult position too.���
“Who isn’t in a difficult position?” Qingying asked. “If the woman can understand the man’s difficulties, can a man not understand a woman’s pain of being cast aside and humiliated?”
Hongli thought for a moment then laughed. “Qingying Meimei, you are much too unbending.”
Qingying merely nodded. “It’s better to live the rest of your life alone, rather than live to old age with someone who already betrayed you once. So it might be harmonious today, but if a conflict arises, what is to say Pei Shaojun will not just forsake Li Qianjin again? It is easy to change mountains**, that is the principle here.”
[** there is a Chinese saying that it is easier to change the course of rivers and shapes of mountains than to change the character of a person… aka old habits die hard but with more stakes.]
Hongli still did not agree with her logic. “Women should place obedience before all and be pliable. If she does not restrain herself and be more accepting for the greater good, then she would just suffer.”
“If one must accept being humiliated for a so-called happy ending, then I don’t want that kind of happy ending,” Qingying repeated.
“Then is Over the wall and atop a horse we gaze at each other so easily forgotten?” Hongli asked, astonished.
Qingyin turned and stared at Hongli. “If it is not easily forgotten, then why didn’t Pei Shaojun protect Li Qianjin? Hasn’t he too forgotten how they once loved each other when he cast her aside?”
Hongli could not argue against her, and finally admitted defeat. “Meimei, you really are something, I don’t know what else to say.”
Qingying laughed in delight.
“Meimei,” Hongli said, stepping closer to her, “you argued so animatedly, you must love Over the Wall and Atop a Horse. Why don’t we go back and hear the play again?”
Qingying hesitated, thinking that it would be a great loss of face if she were to return now. But Hongli was looking at her so earnestly, she found it hard to immediately refuse.
“I’ll go back first, and prepare good tea to wait for you.”
He said ‘wait’, as if he would not move the day along if she did not come. Her heart softened, and she suddenly stopped in her path.
[And then of course Qingying comes back to attend the selection. Hongli, who had originally intended to choose Langhua, changes his mind and chose Qingying to be his di fujin, but then Yongzheng interfered and put a stop to it… But the play is one massive foreshadowing plot device that doesn’t get explained much in the drama, but packs a punch when you read this scene.] -h
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im not very sure if you're doing abcs for the trio but if u do could u pls maybe do C N O and S for vlad? <3
No worries! I don't see why not, my knowledge is just a little more limited for them is all~
Hope you enjoy these, lovely! ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Aight y’all it’s time for me to put on my clown shoes as god intended
Though man, what a delightfully rainy day today to write =v=
Fluff ABCs Template here
Cuddling -- How does he like to cuddle?
He is a simple man, with simple needs.
That being said, I think he’s one for a lot of gentle affection. Despite appearances–I mean hell, he literally wears a necklace of thorns–he’s actually a very tender lover. Loves hand-holding, scooting close under umbrellas, making shapes out of the little beauty marks that dot her skin. He will take any excuse to hold her and run with it.
Ideally, I think he prefers privacy above all else, most typically in his room in the castle. This side of him, so soft with his love for her, belongs to her and her alone. He refuses to let anyone else kill his immersion the moment (cue Charles dragging Faust away from doing something disruptive and stupid), or indulge in the sight of her so rosy-cheeked and loving. Loves dropping little kisses to the crown of her head, her shoulders, the backs of her hands. He’s waited so many long years to be able to hold her close like this, to feel the heat of her blush and the tinkle of sweet giggles when he nips and pecks at her pretty skin. All of this, every single second, is beyond value to him…he cherishes each memory close to his heart, crystallized fragments of joy in a life so bereft of it.
His favorite position for cuddling tends to be a kind of side lean. Usually she’ll be lying down (or turned towards him, sometimes) while he’s on his side beside her (usually against a wall or the back of a sofa). He loves that he can gaze at her as much as he likes this way, he really can’t get enough. The person he was searching for all this time, right here, no sign of leaving…
Nightmare -- What is his worst fear?
Oh boyo boy. Oh boy...
Honestly, I really don’t see anything horrifying him as much as losing MC. I don’t think he’s a man above fear. He hates being abandoned, he’s afraid of the world being torn apart by humanity’s indifference.
But nothing compares to the shattering fear of losing MC.
I think he has a very particular intense fear about losing loved ones because of the nature of his life history. He is still deeply affected by his entire clan being wiped out by hunters, leaving him alone to carry the weight of that legacy and loss. While he couldn’t help but give his heart to the woman who saved him, the reality of his terror is undeniable. After so many centuries of searching, after so many years of feeling hollow and alone…Even now, he has never come to terms with the way his family was ripped away from him. To know the gentleness of love again, to finally have a hand to hold only to lose it…
Well, I really can’t imagine the terrifying result of that. I imagine he would be far beyond reason.
Whenever he has bad dreams of the very same fear, he is nigh inconsolable. He holds her very tightly without saying a word (which is unlike him) and she'll know not to let him go for a while. She murmurs calming things, promises of things they'll do together in the future, strokes his hair and rubs his back. They only leave the bed when he's feeling somewhat stabilized again, but even so he'll hold her hand for longer than usual days after. Embraces her more, finds any excuse to hide away.
Oddity -- What is one quirk he has?
I think one part of him that is overlooked is that he is a man very interested in the nature of contradiction, the duality that resides in all things–himself included. Some parts of his preoccupation are more obvious than others. For instance, he loves flowers due to the nature of their ephemeral beauty, but also enjoys trying to preserve them to let their appeal survive. There’s also the fact that flowers can look or smell lovely, but can harbor poisons strong enough to kill grown human beings. (Not unlike him.)
He is a vampire in which the front-end of his operations is a cathedral, and I imagine that was a purposeful move as well. There are so many angles to consider here, namely two obvious ones that come to mind. There is the non-threatening concept of the cathedral: in which people assume it is a safe haven, a place to seek care/assistance/prayer (not entirely so in this case, even if Faust plays priest.) There’s the possibility that vampire hunters are typically supplied by/supported by the church (not sure if this is the case here, but it is a common trope). That would mean Vlad would be using the face of the very human institution that ruined his life to enact revenge, to say nothing of the potential risk of hunters seeking sanctuary only to run into a den of vampires.
There is also wondering whether or not he purposely wears that necklace of thorns ;;;;; (For anyone unaware, there was the whole Jesus wearing a crown of thorns specifically as an extension of humiliation, branding him the “fake king" of the Jewish people.) My contention here would be that he is basically saying “lmao, I’m your suffering saint now.” Or maybe he’s just really into masochistic jewelry, I have no idea.
He appears to have a kind of obsession with subverting norms/conventional expectations, and I have to wonder if it runs with his general underdog theme…
Secrets -- How open is he with her?
Despite his generally guarded nature, with MC he is entirely transparent when they’re in a relationship. Unless he doesn’t want to scare her or simply feels something would be best shared at a later time, he makes no real attempt to hide anything from her. If she asks and he knows the answer, he’ll spill.
(Okay but sometimes it gets hilarious, because say Faust has been trying for years to get info out of him about some stupidly specific thing. And Vlad is always very evasive, dances out of reach, plain ignores him. MC asks and he’s just like “oh yeah, in 1582 I remember–” It’s a wonder Faust never throws hands about it, pisses him off so much LMFAO)
Before their relationship was established he hesitated more, largely because the nature of his existence and his ties to her were a lot to take in at the time. I think he prefers not to overwhelm her whenever possible. It’s very much a kind of “I won’t info drop on you thoughtlessly, but if you ask me a question I’ll do my best to answer with the truth.”
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savagesbonergarage · 3 years
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Are you looking for prompts? 👀 Can I offer you predator/prey kink with Maul (or Savage?) I’ll just... leave this here...
Oh?
I know that @fallenrepublick has already written an excellent Maul one here, but Savage...I can't say I've seen one with the big boye anywhere yet (though correct me if I'm wrong)...
Guess that's my duty now...oh no...😏
A/N: Smuuuuuuuut, it's kinda long, wilderness survival, taking a leak (like just peeing outdoors in general, if that makes you uncomfortable you can skip it), maybe a pee kink though?? Is it a pee kink if there's no real indication of it being one? Someone will have to let me know lol, general roughness, rough sex, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, aftercare
Savage
"Instinct"
The wind rustled softly through the trees, the scent of fresh mountain air and the the temporary security of your height advantage almost offering you a moment of respite. You had stationed yourself near the top of an adequately concealed tree, it's sturdy branches sufficient enough to keep you up and away from immanent danger for the time being.
You were feeling quite pleased with yourself, if you were being honest. It had been a few days that you had managed to avoid his pursuit, a milestone you weren't quite sure you'd ever be able to achieve, and yet here you were. The few wilderness survival tips that you had learned in your youth inevitably seemed to pay off, as you remained cognizant of as much as you could regarding yourself and your environment that could potentially alert a predator. Rarely did you ever touch the ground of the forest floor, opting to remain high up in the forgiving trees that allowed for your nimbleness to be used as an advantage. You moved slowly, always making sure that your sounds blended together alongside the other calls of nature that wouldn't give way to your position, and you always shifted with the winds to ensure that the breeze never dispersed your scent around.
Savage was certainly the epitome of a predator, and an enhanced one at that - however, you'd studied him enough to understand the drawbacks that came with his awesome power. By his very nature, stealth wasn't his defining trait. At all. Were he to get anywhere within your field of vision, you would know about it without a doubt by the flocks of birds that scrambled to the skies in the distance or the cracking of branches coupled with his screams of frustration that filled the open air. You had to admit, you almost found it cute how you were finally getting the upper hand on him for once.
Although, this only meant that when or if he did catch you, you'd be shown no mercy.
It seemed your tactics this time around were working rather well though, and you considered that perhaps after one more day of survival that you'd approach him and declare yourself the victor in this dangerous game. Oh, the humiliation he would feel from his failure...the mighty Savage Opress, unable to hunt down the creature he craved for the first time. It probably irked him terribly that you were remaining relatively stagnant within the treetops as opposed to frantically running about like a frightened animal, which was likely a large factor in the enjoyment of it for him - the thrill of the chase.
Normally, you might have indulged him a bit more and better acted the part that he desired you to play, but this time, oh, this time, you were determined. Back home, he'd jokingly let slip that if you were ever to evade him long enough, he'd don a fluffy tunic and ears and call himself an ewok. That right there was all the motivation you'd ever need - nothing was going to come between you and getting to see what would inarguably be the most hilarious sight in the galaxy.
Dusk was fast approaching, and although there was still no sign of the beast that was hunting you, it was detrimental that you carefully selected a sturdy tree with tall, wide branches that you could conceal with the surrounding foliage nearby while you slept leaning against it. It was hardly comfortable and you could only rest for maybe a few hours at a time, but it was certainly safer than sleeping on the ground. You gathered your necessities and carefully arranged yourself against a wide branch and drifted off.
It wasn't long before the chill of the night air roused you from sleep. You had to admit, the worst part out of all of this was how damn cold it was being exposed to the wind in inadequate layers for these temperatures. You quietly shuffled around in an attempt to get comfortable, but in doing so you realized an uncomfortable truth.
Damn. I have to pee.
This was gonna be tricky. Finding a place to do so safely was half the battle, since you'd be making yourself completely vulnerable for a short while and if Savage happened to be somewhere nearby, no matter how quiet you were, he'd likely be able to smell you. A slightly gross fact, but an important one. He was a predator, after all. You'd managed to get by this far, and you had been avoiding drinking water for this very reason - also, because he would likely wait near the water for you to show up to inevitably drink.
Being tired, dehydrated, cold and full of pee wasn't ideal, and you couldn't wait for the morning to get here so this game could finally end. You were even starting to wonder if this was really going to be worth it once it was over. Sure, watching Savage embarrass himself was always an entertaining prospect, but right now, you just wanted to be held against him and his warmth even more. You sighed. Only a few more hours, and then you could gloat in his face for a second before snuggling up to his blissfully comfortable frame.
But for now, you still had to pee. You debated over whether or not you could potentially hold it until morning, but the answer to that was a resounding negative. It would be fine. You'd survived every other time, and you'd survive this time. Tentatively, you carefully and quietly lowered yourself to the ground, cursing the night for being so dark. Ideally, you'd want to find a place far enough away from here to go so that you wouldn't be literally marking your territory - but you didn't have any light, or Savage's reflective night sight, and you didn't have his other senses that absolutely trumped your own.
For the first time, the fear was finally starting to creep over you. It was times like this that you got so deep in your own head that you started to forget that this was really all just a game, and not an actual quest for survival; but that's how Savage liked it. You scoffed under your breath when you realized this, resolving to unbuckle your pants and simply relieve yourself right where you were. If Savage did happen to come through here, it was likely that he would assume you followed your usual thought process of maintaining distance from where you actually were rather than look up that very tree. That's how you had been operating so far; besides, there were only a few hours left. What were the chances of-
You heard a faint rustle of leaves somewhere behind you, and the panic started to settle in. That could have been anything, you told yourself as you attempted to calm down your anxiety. You couldn't really do much about it right now, since, well, you were already going. If you tried to push it faster that would only make it louder, and if you tried to scurry back up the tree in the middle of it, it would get everywhere and act as a billboard to your location. You sighed quietly, counting down the seconds until it was done in an attempt to quiet your racing heart.
You had that sinking feeling that you weren't alone. Your eyes darted around only to find that you truly couldn't see a thing, and you determined that the best course of action now was to just calmly finish up and quietly scale back up the tree.
You had just gotten your pants back over your hips when an animalistic growl erupted from behind you, and just like that, it was over. Savage had you pinned between his muscular, gargantuan form and the trunk of the tree, your arms bound to your sides in the grip of his massive hands. There was no way in hell you'd be able to wriggle free, and the adrenaline coursing through you in being captured was making you tremble. You could feel the heavy beating of his twin hearts against your back and his hot breath against your neck, and with a growl he pressed his hips against you until you could clearly feel the outline of his massive, throbbing cock against the small of your back.
"I got you. You're mine."
There was a frightening agitation in his bellowing voice that shook you, and the feeling was only worsened when you heard the scrape of one of his long horns against the bark of the tree as he brought his mouth closer to your ear.
"You think you can get away with hiding from me...? Keeping me hunting you for so long, and then teasing me like that..."
You were breathless, unable to utter a reply even if you'd had one ready before one of his powerful hands yanked your pants back down to your ankles. His claws left mild scrapes against your thigh, a concern that he was usually more cautious of, but not this time. It was clear that he was going to punish you for making him wait so long. You could barely squeak out his name when you felt his teeth rip into the layers of fabric covering your torso. With the aid of his claws he tore the garments from your body, spitting the cloth from his mouth as he revelled in the satisfaction of "skinning" you. You shivered, the heat from the zabrak's body the only thing keeping you warm now.
He flipped you so that you were facing him, the harshness of the tree bark against your bare skin making you wince as you watched him pull his monster dick out from the prison of his pants. No matter how many times you witnessed that reveal, your reaction was always the same. You looked into his glowing golden eyes, a predatory hunger there that sent both fear and heat straight through to your core. You swallowed drily, gazing into his face with a submissive look of defeat as he continued pinning you by your shoulders.
"You got me," you breathed, "I'm yours."
That did it for him. Without another word, he palmed the meat of your thighs and hoisted your legs up to hold you in place as your back rested against the rough tree, causing you to hitch your breath as Savage hungrily lined himself up with your entrance, the sheer amount of precum he leaked serving as lube before he pushed his hips forward. It was a little more forced than usual, and on top of that it had been a while since the last time you'd taken him, with your walls struggling to adjust to the stretch in order to accommodate his size. Your jaw was hanging open and your head immediately rolled back as you felt more and more full with each thrust, Savage gripping your thighs harder and exhaling a groan when he finally bottomed out.
There was a brief moment of hesitation, a pause for a reality-check as Savage lightly tapped his fingers against you. It was a subtle way of asking for permission, acknowledging that although this was your "punishment" and his reward, he still needed to know that you really wanted it like this, and that you were okay. Your response was an affirmation in the form of a squeeze on his forearm and a slight roll of your hips, with the look in your eyes pleading for him to take what he desired.
So, he did. With one strong, massive arm supporting you under your ass and the other pulling you closer to him, he backed away from the tree entirely and moved your arms to wrap around his neck so you could leverage yourself while he fucked the absolute life out of you. The noises that were escaping your lips were just as perverse as the sound of skin-on-skin echoing with vulgar, wet slaps throughout the forest, your mind already turning to mush. He was hitting everything, even when he wasn't really trying, so it took hardly any time at all before your eyes were rolling back and you felt that knot building up in your core. He didn't let up, his pace almost quickening with every desperate whine that escaped your throat.
"Savage, I-"
"Not yet," he commanded, pressing your chest firmly against his as he continued, "not until I say so."
You whined even louder, your hands moving up to hold onto his horns as he continued fucking you without mercy, that ache in your stomach growing more and more unbearable the longer you tried to push it back. Your breaths were desperate and rapid, with your face and chest flushing as red as a Dathomirian sunset with every passing second. You didn't know how much longer you could last, but you wanted to try your best for him.
"Please, I can't...!"
"Just a little more," Savage replied, relishing in the way your body was trying so hard not to break as he resumed his deliciously aggressive thrusts. Your hands moved from his horns to dig your fingers into his broad shoulders, your desperation reaching near-unfathomable limits.
"Savage, I can't-I can't-I can't-I'm-!"
You screamed as he finally allowed you to tip over the edge, having timed his release with yours so that you could ride out your highs in tandem. It was almost too much, the ecstacy of your edged climax intensifying with every twitch of Savage's pulsing cock so deep inside painting your gripping walls with heat. Even minutes later you were still quivering, barely coherent as your whines eventually began to die down and your lover held you tightly in his arms, before gently pulling his softening dick out of you once you had stopped clenching around his length.
He pressed a firm kiss against your temple as he waited for you to catch your breath, also ensuring that the majority of the unbelievable mess the two of you had made spilled out onto the grassy ground. Once he was satisfied, he moved one arm beneath both of your knees used the other to support your shoulders, keeping you close to him in this more comfortable position as he planted another long kiss to your forehead. He always thought it was cute when you were entirely spent like this, limp in his arms like a bag of grain as you relaxed in the afterglow.
"Are you alright?" He whispered against your forehead, lovingly stroking your arm as he did so. You responded with a soft smile and an affirmative hum, resting your hands against his broad tattooed chest as you curled in closer to him.
"I'm ready to go home," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
"Agreed. Let's get you some water and a hot bath."
Your heart fluttered, filling your chest with silent praises for him and rhetorical questions of what you did to deserve being here in the arms of this gentle, fearsome predator. He began the trek home, smiling to himself as a thought crossed his mind.
"You know," he began conversationally, "if you wanted to see me dressed as an ewok so badly, you could have just asked. I would have done it for you, anyway."
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geekgirles · 3 years
Text
Full Disclosure
“I’m sorry for the way I used to act towards you when we were fourteen,” she admitted before softly adding, “especially when you and Danny were beginning to connect.”
Or
In which Sam and Valerie clear the air between them.
Word count: 5176
READ ON AO3
Before we go in, I just wanted to say that I hope I did the characters justice. Really, it’s all I ask because I’m still fairly recent in the fandom (as in, actively participating rather than fangirling on my own) and I’d hate to make a travesty of characters that mean so much to me. Oh, and this one-shot can take place in whatever timeline you want: you hate PP with a passion? Don’t worry, it didn’t happen. You actually think it’s a good finale? That works too. There shouldn’t be anything that indicates this story takes place in anywhere in particular other than Amity Park, so... All you need to know is that Valerie knows.
Please, enjoy!!
As an intense throb manifested itself in her right side, eliciting an involuntary groan to escape her throat, Sam was more frustrated at herself than aching from the hit. It had been two years already since Danny had the accident that gave him his powers, consequently beginning the constant battles against ghosts that made their teenaged life significantly harder, and, as they came to appreciate their lifestyle, significantly more interesting, too. Once Danny gained his ghost powers, she and Tucker took it to themselves to make sure their friend was always supported and aided when fighting his ghostly adversaries.
And with that came the injuries. 
They certainly didn’t get hurt as often or as gravely as Danny, since he was usually the one facing the mischievous spirits head-on, but they still had to get used to their own fair share of beatings. The teachers were understandably surprised when they effortlessly completed their first aid training in Health class. 
All in all, Sam was used to getting hurt. 
Which made the fact that Valerie had landed such a perfect kick that it literally left her breathless all the more humiliating.
Valerie Gray, a.k.a. the Red Huntress. Danny Phantom’s longtime pursuer and Danny Fenton’s one time girlfriend. The once popular girl was now their trustworthy ally. And, as much as Sam hated to admit it, she was thoroughly kicking her butt. Perhaps she should have expected as much from a ninth degree black belt. 
“Had enough, Manson?” Valerie taunted with a raised eyebrow. 
Getting up slowly, Sam sent her a smirk alongside a challenging, determined look. “Never.” And with that she leaped on the ghost huntress, using her momentum to connect a punch to her face. But Valerie was faster, blocking the Goth girl’s attack with her forearm before sliding her leg under Sam’s to make her lose her balance. Seeing what her opponent was up to, the violet-eyed girl quickly got out of her way, widening the space between the two to give herself some time to think up a new strategy. 
Smirking at Sam’s maneuver, Valerie appraised her with pride. “Not bad, Sam,” she said before changing her stance, ready to pounce, “but the extra space won’t save you from this.” Leaping into the air, the Red Huntress didn’t waste a moment to knock Sam to the floor with a roundhouse kick boosted by her movements. 
Even if the Goth blocked the attack by keeping her palms up in front of her face, the sheer force behind it was still enough to knock her down. That was gonna bruise in the morning, she was sure of it. Glancing up she noticed Valerie looking down at her with a smug look on her face and her hands on her hips. Sam barely resisted the urge to scowl darkly at her. Panting, she conceded, “Alright, alright. Maybe now I’ve had enough.” 
Chuckling at Sam’s proud nature, the green-eyed girl bent down slightly to offer her friend a hand and lift her up from the floor. Once Sam was at her eye-level, she looked down on her watch, now serving as a chronometre. “Five minutes. That’s a full round! Congratulations, Sam. So far, you’re the one who’s lasted the most against me.” She applauded her, but her face betrayed her. She was about to burst out laughing. 
Snorting, the Goth girl elbowed her slightly on the arm. “Knock it off! Even if I lost, I still managed to land a few hits myself.”
“Yeah...Trust me, you don’t have to remind me.” Valerie complained with a pointed look as she rubbed her lower back. Early on in the match, Sam kneed her there. Thank goodness she wasn’t tasked with unloading the Nasty Burger’s products that week. “I’m serious, though. Danny without his powers lasts a minute and a half, tops. And Tucker...well, let’s just say that taking one hit without passing out is already a victory when it comes to him.” 
“Yeah, he and Danny really should do more exercise.” The two girls laughed at that. These past two years Danny’s skill when using his powers had skyrocketed. Enemies that used to give him a hard time were now more of a headache. He didn’t even have to pay attention to the fight to get rid of the Ghost Box. Now, as Danny Fenton… He’d gotten taller, that was for sure. But he still had the nasty habit of relying on his powers a little too much, which didn’t do his P.E marks any favours. And Tucker was still far more interested in whatever his PDA had to offer than the wonders of physical exercise. 
In truth, everyone had changed during that time, if only a little. 
Sam was still as Goth and ultra-recyclo-vegetarian as always. Her raven hair was slightly longer, now reaching her shoulders, but she still wore it mostly loose and framing her face, except for the one strand she kept in a high ponytail. Her fashion sense hadn’t changed much either. She wore a black crop top with Danny’s logo on it instead of the old purple ovalーthe town began selling merchandise of its hero to attract, and basically rob, tourists. Since she created the logo herself, she made her own outfits and nobody was none the wiser. She also stuck with plaid skirts, but this time she favoured a purple and black one instead of her old black and green. But her combat boots, accessories, and make-up were sacred. Everybody knew impending doom was near if Sam ever changed even the tiniest detail in her appearance when it came to that. 
She was still outspoken and an avid defender of animal rights, individuality, and most importantly, of Danny Phantom. Even though most people celebrated the boy and thanked him for his services, there were still some who criticised him and believed Amity Park was better off before him. Needless to say, Sam was always at the front of the line in any protest to defend Amity Park’s greatest protector. The fact that he was not only one of her best friends but also her boyfriend may have something to do with it. But even if they weren’t together, Sam knew Danny. She’d always known him. She would always defend him from those who couldn’t even begin to grasp just how noble, responsible, and compassionate he was.
The corners of her mouth curled up slightly when she remembered she’d just been sparring with what once was one of Danny Phantom’s greatest detractors. 
In a way, Valerie had probably changed the most out of everyone she knew while simultaneously not changing anything at all. 
In terms of appearance, just like Sam, she’d only modified her look slightly. She cut her long, dark brown curls so they now barely reached her shoulders instead of cascading down her back. According to her, long hair just got in the way with her suit. She originally wanted to get an undercut, but her dad almost had a cow so they compromised with short hair for now and leaving the undercut for when she was a little older. The huntress still favoured spaghetti-strapped yellow t-shirts, but now she completed her outfit with dark blue jeans or shorts (depending on the temperature) and white sneakers. She also dropped the headband due to her hair, but she kept the earrings. 
The most obvious change, though, was that she was now an ally rather than an enemy after Danny Phantom’s head. Sam feared for the worst when Valerie found out her ex boyfriend was the very same ghost she’d vowed to destroy (could she really say she and Danny were exes, though? Sure, they went on a few dates and they genuinely liked each other, but Valerie pseudo-broke up with him right when he was about to ask her to make things official... Ugh, the wonders of the teenaged heart... Always bound to give her a headache. This is why she preferred her Goth indifference...most of the time). As much as they wanted to trust Valerie was going to be sensible about it, her track record wasn’t the best, forcing them to keep an eye out in case she decided to send her more positive opinion of Danny Fenton to Hell and shoot him with her ecto-bazooka. 
Thankfully, one day Valerie just sat down with them at lunch, and when Danny tentatively asked her if they were okay, she just smiled and said, “We’re okay.” So they ate lunch in peace...until the Lunch Lady showed up and they had to send her back to the Ghost Zone. At least that time the Red Huntress was there to help them out. Ever since then, the girl sometimes fought alongside them, but for the most part she did her own thing. 
And that was something about Valerie that hadn’t changed; her hatred of ghosts. Valerie was still hellbent on getting rid of all the spirits that haunted Amity Park, with half-ghosts being the sole exception ーexcept for Vlad, Valerie held a huge grudge against him for having used her as his pawn; not like the team could complain, they all hated Vlad, after all. And that made her ruthless, determined, brutal… More than once Danny had tried talking her out of her grudge against the paranormal, explaining to her that, albeit not as numerous as the troublemaking ghosts, there were still some that just wanted to be left alone. But Valerie would not budge. She believed all ghosts lacked the humanity and self-control necessary to resist whatever crazy obsession that tied them to our world and would eventually attack. 
To Valerie, ghosts were ticking bombs. 
Seeing as, so far, most ghosts they faced were malicious or seriously causing trouble, Tucker suggested they just let her be, but the moment she actually targeted an innocent ghost (say, Wulf), then they would have to get serious with her. 
All in all, Valerie was their friend. A friend who had agreed to help her train so Danny wouldn’t have to worry so much about her safety when they were out fighting spectres. Not like he really needed to worry, she could take care of herself, but the more prepared they were, the better. And Valerie was helping her with that, and yet, the air still hadn’t been completely cleared between them. 
As much as Sam would’ve loved cutting to the chase, a part of her still wasn’t prepared to address the elephant in the room. “Not gonna lie, Valerie, I wiー” she stopped mid-sentence. The last thing they needed was to have Desirée roaming free around Amity Park just because she hadn’t been careful with her words. Clearing her throat, she went on. “I mean, I would do anything for your fighting skills. You must have every ghost shaking in their boots...or whatever they have to shake in.”
As Sam sat down on the floor of her family’s private gym, which Valerie still couldn’t get used to being in, the green-eyed girl made her way to the other side of the room far away from  the training tatami, where a middle-sized fridge was located. Pulling the door open, she grabbed two water bottles before going back to Sam. “Yeah, what can I say? I am pretty awesome.”
“And don’t forget modest.” Sam replied sarcastically. 
“Girl, when you’re as good as me, you don’t need to pretend to be modest.” She joked as she handed Sam her own water bottle, which she accepted gratefully, before sitting down on the floor next to her. “Believe it or not, though, I became a ninth degree black belt long before I started hunting ghosts.” She looked at the floor, a pensive look on her face, “...we couldn’t have afforded the classes otherwise.”
Sam did her best to suppress the urge to do a spit-take at her words. Valerie almost never brought her financial situation up. The most she used to do was remember Danny why she hated him back when she still was after him, but the topic was dropped altogether once the secret was out. Looking around her ridiculously lavish house, Sam felt like facepalming herself. How could she have been so insensitive as to remind Valerie of the life she lost?! 
“Valerie...I-I’m sorry. I should’ve told you to meet up at the park to train, but I…”
“Sam, don’t.” The huntress cut her off with a stern tone. “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for.”
“But it was insensitive of me toー” Again, she was interrupted by Valerie, who silenced her by raising her palm up in front of her.
“Please, let me talk. You don’t have to apologise for anything because you’ve done nothing wrong. I’ll admit, it’s a bit paradoxical finding out that while I was mourning my losses you’d been hiding the fact that you’re stinking rich all along. But I’m not offended by it. Actually, I think I understand.”
“You do?” The Goth girl asked in disbelief, her eyes wide open. 
The African-American girl just shrugged. “I think so. I didn’t realise it until my so-called friends kicked me out of the group, but having money attracts a lot of fakes and shallow people. People who’ll only be there when it’s convenient for them and who’ll throw you away like a used tissue the moment you have nothing else to offer. I know that better than anyone…” When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she looked up to see Sam smiling kindly at her, doing her best to get out of her comfort zone and offer her some comfort. She returned the smile. “Bottom line: you want real friends, so you never talk about your money ‘cause you don’t want to attract the wrong people. I get it.”
“You really do.”
“And I guess I’m also flattered.”
Sam blinked slowly at her. “Wow, Valerie. It usually takes a lot to take me by surpriseーwith the ghost fighting and allーand yet, here we are!” 
The huntress just chuckled softly in response. “What I mean is that I understand that it takes you a lot to let people inーand quite literally tooーbut you still invited me. That means you must trust me, if only a bit.”
Sam couldn’t help but blush at her earnest words. It was true, wasn’t it? She trusted Valerie. She would have never invited her to her house if she didn’t. And, now that she thought about it, Valerie had to trust her too if she was willing to show her vulnerable side to her. Somehow, the thought made her smile. Knowing she would have to bring up uncomfortable topics soon, the violet-eyed girl decided to alleviate some of the tension first. “Well, I’m glad you could at least get your black belt first! Otherwise we would be in for a major asskicking from some ghosts.”
That comment actually made Valerie laugh. “Oh, hush, you flatterer! Or I’ll tell Danny his girlfriend has been hitting on me.” She could only snort when Sam gasped in fake shock. “Seriously, though. I personally would love to be as genre savvy as you are. I mean, you always know what to do or have some obscure knowledge about whatever we’re facing. From the Fright Knight’s legend to how to train your dragon ghost.”
Sam merely shrugged with a lazy grin on her face, “What can I say? Obscure knowledge sort of comes with being a Goth.”
The two girls started snickering after that. As their laughter died down, Valerie noticed Sam’s smile fading from the corner of her eye, concerning her. “Sam? Is everything okay?”
“Valerie...I’m sorry.” 
That took her by surprise. After a few seconds of shock, the Red Huntress rolled her eyes good-naturedly before gently nudging her friend with her shoulder. “C’mon, Sam. I told you already. You don’t have to feel sorry for inviting meー.”
This time it was Sam who cut her off. She shook her head. “No. No, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m sorry for the way I used to act towards you when we were fourteen,” she admitted before softly adding, “especially when you and Danny were beginning to connect.”
One would think that a semi-professional ghost huntress would have seen it all, and honestly, so did Valerie, but she was genuinely shocked at Sam’s apology. The shock didn't last long, though. “Are you seriously apologising for that? Sam, that was two years ago!”
Of all the things she could be apologising for...She just had to pick that one, didn’t she?
Sam groaned, frustrated and clenching her gym shorts with her hands. “I know it’s been two years, but that doesn’t change that I wasn’t the most pleasant person in the world to you for reasons that weren’t...completely pure.”
“So what?” Valerie insisted. “Neither was I for the longest time! You and Tucker were right when you called me out during Pariah Dark’s attack; how could I expect to be treated like one of the group when I used to be such a brat to you? You still eventually forgave me.” She pointed out.
“You don’t understand…” Sam whined as she rubbed her face with her hands. “While it’s true that part of my animosity towards you came from how you used to treat us, and another good chunk came from your eagerness to vaporise one of my best friends,” the Red Huntress actually had the decency to blush embarrassedly at that, “I really, really disliked you because I was...well, I was jealous. Plain and simple.” 
There. She’d said it. After years gritting her teeth and burning with envy whenever Danny and Tucker (mostly because of Danny, obviously) drooled over Paulina or any other pretty girl, she had finally admitted she was mostly jealous instead of simply not understanding what the fuss was about. Hanging out with girls more often, namely Valerie and Jazz, instead of only spending her time with the guys had really helped broaden her horizons. Especially when it came to her opinion on other girls. She was proud to say she was finally moving on from her “not like other girls” phase. 
Even if Danny’s crush on Paulina had driven her nuts more than once, it was his budding romance with Valerie that truly pushed all her buttons and caused her deepest insecurities to rear their ugly head. Even if dating her was dangerous, Danny still wanted to be with her! He was willing to throw caution to the wind if it meant they could be a couple. And he was so protective of her when Technus attacked… As much as Sam hated to admit it, as much as she wished (to Hell with Desirée) she could ignore it all and just focus on protecting Danny from being hunted by his new girlfriend, that hurt.
That hurt a lot. 
Albeit annoying, Danny’s crush on Paulina was safe. Paulina only liked Danny Phantom. Danny couldn’t really get closer to her as his alter-ego without putting her in danger, and Danny would never put an innocent person in danger. And just like that, Paulina became unattainable. But Valerie…
Valerie liked Danny Fenton. She and Danny often just wanted to have a normal life, away from ghosts and burdens that no 14-year-old kid should shoulder. Even if the Red Huntress wanted to kill Danny Phantom, Valerie genuinely liked Danny Fenton. Despite the danger, she was closer than Paulina. And despite their close bond, she was closer to Danny than Sam herself. Because Valerie wasn’t afraid to admit her feelings, unlike her. 
In fact, hadn’t Valerie put her job before her love life, Sam knew without an ounce of a doubt that she and Danny would still be together. Because she had been too afraid to tell Danny how much he meant to her sooner. 
Yes, she had been jealous of Valerie. 
She had been jealous of the attention she received from Danny. She had been jealous of the fact that they went out on several dates and nothing could embarrass them or ruin their little moment. She was jealous because it would’ve meant things would change. 
But most importantly, she was jealous of Valerie’s guts. 
And she finally confessed it.
...which made what Valerie said next all the more jaw-dropping. 
“Yeah, I know.”
Her jaw hanging low and eyes as wide as saucers, Sam slowly turned her head to look the huntress dead in the eye. “You know?” She asked, completely flabbergasted. 
Valerie snorted. She actually snorted at her question! And while Sam was looking at her with the most comically astonished expression on the face of the planet, Valerie just regarded her with a coy smile. “No offence, Sam, but it was kinda hard to miss. I think only Danny wasn’t aware of it.”
Sam had nothing to say in response to that. 
“Besides, didn’t I tell you before I even started going out with Danny? When you like someone, if you don’t make a move, somebody else will. What did you think I was referring to other than your feelings, chess?”
“That...is true.” The Goth admitted quietly. 
Seeing her usually outspoken friend acting so despondent all of a sudden didn’t sit well with the green-eyed teenager. She sighed, “Look, Sam. I understand that you were...difficult because you were jealous. I can’t deny I once or twice acted petty towards you because I was jealous, myself. But even if I hadn’t decided to just stay friends with Danny, I don’t think we would’ve worked out in the end.”
Not for the first time that day, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last time either, Valerie had taken her completely aback. Furrowing her brow in confusion, Sam insisted, “What are you talking about? You two are the best ghost hunters in Amity Park, you guys would have been the ultimate power couple!”
Leaning back on her elbows, the Red Huntress sent the Goth a smirk, “Ah, but you’re forgetting I would’ve had to know Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom were one and the same first. And I…”, for the first time since their sparring lesson began, Valerie found herself hesitating, “I don’t know how I would’ve taken that.
“Sure, I really, really liked Danny, but I had spent far longer hating his ghost half. Ever since the Cujo-related incidents I blamed him for the turn my life had taken. And even when I was growing fond of Danny Fenton, his actions as Danny Phantom still drove me nuts! I mean, he literally unmasked me right before my dad! He forbade me from ghost hunting until I got that upgrade in my suit. Could I really put all that aside in favour of having a relationship with him?
“That’s why it took me so long to face you guys once I learned the truth; I was trying to make peace with it all. I figured I could learn to forgive Danny, maybe even trust him with my life...but never with my heart again. There were too many imbalances between us for me to be comfortable in a relationship with him...and you guys are honestly better together anyways.” She winked at the ultra-recyclo-vegetarian.
“You really think so?” Sam could feel the heat making its way to her cheeks the moment Valerie nodded at her question. “I-I mean!”, ugh, how she hated stuttering!, “Danny’s always been super important to me...obviously! And we’ve always done our best to be there for each other and have each other’s backs, but there are times when I can’t help but wonder if perhaps we’re just making a mistake and we were better off as friends…” She finished with a defeated sigh. 
At the sensation of an arm wrapped around her shoulders, she turned to look at Valerie. “Sam, trust me. This is no mistake. You’re one of the very few people who understand there’s no difference between Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom; they’re both Danny and you’ve always known that and done your best to show him just that. And unlike Paulina or me, even if you hadn’t known his secret from the beginning, I’m willing to bet my right arm that you would’ve accepted both sides of him equally either way.”
At her words, Sam could only smile warmly, “You really think so?”
Valerie returned her smile. “I know so.”
Still replaying Valerie’s words and organising her own thoughts in her head, Sam turned to face her, one hand resting on her lap and the other on Valerie’s shoulder, “For what it’s worth, I still think that after a, very understandable, initial bump in your relationship, you two could’ve made a great couple too. I meant what I said when I told you that, if Danny liked you, then we would only have to make room for you at our table. I can’t think of any girl I would be willing to do that for but you, Val.”
Valerie almost gasped at Sam’s words, but she recovered rather quickly, “Thank you, Sam. That means a lot coming from you.” Resting her own hand on top of the one on her shoulder, she winked mischievously at her, “And don’t worry; I don’t go around stealing my friends’ boyfriends.”
The Goth girl snorted at that. “Glad to hear that.”
They remained like that for a moment, just enjoying the comfortable silence that had settled between them and their secret understanding. They were friends. They had similarities and differences. But that would never change the respect each felt for the other. 
Finally, getting up from the floor and dusting herself off, Valerie broke the silence, “Come on, there’s still many moves I haven’t used to kick your butt.” 
Sam smirked at the challenge, “Oh, you’re so on!”
................
The Fentons’ Emergency Ops Centre had, ironically, become their safe haven. 
Whenever they wanted to enjoy some alone time before they had to part ways or a ghost attack took place, they would simply climb up the roof and enter through the door leading to it. Although Danny could just phase or fly them there if they were really pressed for time, which was their usual way of getting there because they were always pressed for time. 
The Ops Centre was really just an excuse to spend some time together, really.
It didn’t matter what they did. Sometimes they would make out because they were a couple and couples made out with each other, didn’t they? Especially when said couple consisted of two hormone-driven teenagers. Maybe if they’d been a pair of octogenarians, the fuss of the relationship would have been elsewhere. Like how incredible it was that they’d survived that long in the first place.
Other times they just talked about nothing and everything at the same time. Sort of like what they usually did, but without Tucker. Sam would often talk about the latest hideous monstrosity their parents had intended she wore ー”Oh, you’re laughing now! But trust me, Undergrowth had much better fashion sense than my parents!”ー, or how rapidly the poles were melting and nobody was doing anything about it, or how her latest poetry reading went ー“Kwan’s getting better, actually. This time he wrote about the new scabs he got during the last game”ー, and how they could defeat the villain of the week who was somehow harder to beat than the previous one because, really, they always got harder to beat. 
And Danny would recall his parents’ latest shenanigans, or Jazz’s newest psychological experiment with ghosts that she was sure was going to work because it was just flawless; or he’d warn her about the food in his house ー”I know you don’t eat meat anyways, but don’t open the fridge. The ecto-weenies are back and this time they’ve brought BBQ sauce.” He would also complain about the workload of homework Mr Lancer had assigned them; sometimes because he didn’t think he’d have the time to finish it all, and sometimes he just didn’t know where to start because what the Heck is irony anyway? Didn’t anyone realise that what they often called irony was actually more of a paradox? How could they be teaching something wrong in English class?! And, sometimes, in those rare moments where Danny finally realised, only to forget his lesson all over again the next day, that he could count on her, Tucker, Jazz, Val ーand his loved ones, damn it!ー and confide his deepest secrets, he would open up about how being Danny Phantom was taking its toll on him. How being famous was more often than not more suffocating than flattering. How he was getting tired that his enemies only ever came back, or became stronger, or multiplied. How he feared, no, how he felt it was never going to end until he was 100% dead and not just 50%... He even still had trouble understanding what truly happened to him the day of the accident. 
And maybe they just would never know. 
And then, there were days like today. Days where they would just stay in silence, watching Amity Park since the makeshift observatory his zany but genius parents had built all on their own. Because, sometimes, watching the sunset in silence with that special someone was just enough. 
While Danny leaned against the railing, Sam was sitting on top of it, enjoying the soft breeze blowing around her and caressing her skin. “Today I trained with Valerie.”
Perking up at the sound of her voice suddenly breaking the silence, Danny turned his head slightly in her direction. “Oh?” He let out, “How did it go?”
“I managed to last a full five minutes and land a few serious hits myself.” She stated proudly. 
The ghost boy whistled appreciatively, “Five full minutes! Now that’s impressive.” He sent her a sly look and a smirk, his admiration turning into amusement, “And how many hits did you cushion?”
Curling her lip in annoyance, Sam muttered, “The fact that I’m even sitting here is a miracle in itself.”
That had Danny snickering like crazy, before a sharp pain in his arm stopped him, “Ow!” 
To his surprise, instead of a smug Sam as he expected, he found his girlfriend gingerly rubbing her arm, a pained expression on her face. “Okay,” she panted, “that was so not worth it.”
“Here, let me help.” Gently resting his fingers on her arm, he used his ice powers to send a chilly sensation across her limb, effectively alleviating the pain. “Anything else I should know about? Did the training turn into a battle to the death?”
“Actually, we talked things out and we finally buried the hatchet.” She said seriously.
Danny furrowed the brow in confusion. “Uh, Sam? I was kidding. And I thought you already did that when she found out the truth about my powers.”
Chuckling softly, Sam could only roll her eyes with a smile on her face as she leaned close to leave a tender kiss on his lips before whispering, “Clueless.”
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dekalko-mania · 3 years
Text
Things That Lurk in the Dark (Pt. 1)
Amity changed the day the portal opened, in more ways than one.
....
As a young child, Danny had an immense fear of the dark, so severe that he had slept with his parents until they'd attached glowing stars to his ceiling and assured him there was nothing wrong. He'd assumed the problem was no longer there, pushed aside by the many other obstacles he'd faced in his past year of ghost-fighting.
He'd assumed wrong, it seemed, when he began to once again see the shadows in a sinister light.
Danny had first attributed it to his increasing paranoia, an overactive imagination fueled by being constantly alert. He was used to seeing things that were not there upon second glance, accustomed to jumping at any figure he saw from his peripheral vision. This was different, he knew, when he found himself knocking on Jazz's door more often, asking if he could sleep on her floor.
"This is the third night in a row, are you sure you're okay?"
His sister asked the question every night without fail, despite only ever receiving a lie as an answer. His nightmares were back, that was his response, knowing all too well that to get them he would have to have slept at all.
He lay awake that night, lulled into a rare sense of calm by Jazz's soft breaths. Maybe if he counted them, like one counted sheep, he could finally rest.
He planned on doing just that, when a familiar humming filled the room, coming from beside his sister's desk. He sat up, head snapping in the direction of the intrusion as tendrils of darkness formed into abstract shapes.
He stared, not daring to take a breath as he waited. Tonight, he would let it be for longer, observe first and then shoot after. As he watched, cold waves of terror creeping up his spine, the shadows formed into what looked like a door.
He had previously predicted they would become something outright threatening, a creature that lurked in pitch black, or a hand creeping out from beneath their wooden floors. This was somehow much worse, a gateway from who knows where, into their world.
Getting on all fours, he crawled forward, reaching out towards the handle. Before he could make contact, it began to jiggle, beginning as a gentle side to side, and rapidly shifting into an aggressive attempt to enter.
Without sparing a thought, he lit a fire on his palms, green and incredibly bright to ward the door away. That somehow always seemed to work, destroying whatever fragile arrangement had made its place near him.
Deciding that sleep was out of the picture, he shifted into a sitting position, keeping his eyes out for any more potential threats. The following morning, Jazz found him that way, both hands set ablaze and drooping eyes filled with apprehension.
....
It had been difficult explaining away Jazz’s worry, even more difficult to explain to Sam and Tucker why he was acting so strangely. He had grown as Phantom, realized that when facing his fears it was better to be strong and fight through them. If he let his guard down, people would be hurt. 
Yet, somehow, after literally facing death, he found himself once again fighting against a childhood fear. It was humiliating, having to admit it, so he kept it hidden as best as he could.  
"Daniel!"
Danny shot up, snatching the arm waving in front of him on instinct, earning a series of giggles from the class. He tightened his grip, realizing that the lights had been dimmed in the time he'd been nodding off. Already, in that short time frame, he was beginning to see the darkness curling into itself like smoke, caressing the walls in unnatural shades. Surely someone had to have noticed?
"What, he’s gonna fight the teacher now?"
"Loser."
Danny took a sharp intake of air, seeing who exactly the arm belonged to. With an apologetic expression, he released Mr. Lancer’s wrist, lowering his head and mustering the most sincere “sorry” he was capable of in his current state.
“It’s alright, I’ve faced worse at PTA meetings,” Lancer grunted, upset but with a kind tone. “I noticed you dozed off. I know educational movies aren’t preffered, but unless you pay attention, you’re going to fail the upcoming exam.” 
“I’m sorry,” Danny repeated. “It’s just, the lighting here is making it hard to stay awake. Could we maybe flip a switch?” 
Danny did his best to hide the tremor in his voice, all too aware that the gaze of Dash and co. were pinned onto him. Lancer, unaware, surveyed his student, face unreadable as he apparently didn’t like what he saw.
In a low mutter, he told Danny to grab his backpack and wait for him in his office. As someone who had been sent there countless times in the past, he needed no direction, quietly making his way out of the classroom with a mental groan at seeing Dash smirk in his direction.
Great, among his cryptic visions he would now have to deal with his long-time bully. 
Danny leaned against the lockers, running his hand along them for stability in the all too quiet hallway. The humming was everywhere, within the walls, under the cracks in empty classrooms. Anywhere scarce of light, they always lingered, the vague figures, never tangible except for the doors. The longer he stared at one spot, the more Danny noticed them.
They had always been there, waiting for him to spot, knobs twisting as the unknown tried to worm themselves inside of him. They appeared to him as Fenton the most, weak human Fenton, rendered useless with limited access to his ghost powers. He’d found himself growing bitter of this half of him more as of late, wishing that he could always carry the confidence of Phantom, the fearlessness. 
He pushed open the office door more aggressively than he’d intended, dumping himself onto a leather chair with a heavy sigh. He inspected the room in his wait for Lancer, fingers twitching with impatience. The man meant well, setting him aside from a situation that obviously made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t find it within himself to appreciate it just yet.
Maybe he would be more grateful if the humming would stop. He clasped his hands over his ears, overwhelmed by the frustrating noise that never ceased to grate on his nerves. As if taunting him, the sound seemed to travel through the flimsy barrier his fingers provided, emanating from his right side.
Thump, thump, thump
He glanced over to the source, teeth clenching at the old storage cabinet that filled his vision. Its drawers rattled, forcing themselves open, before crashing closed. 
The surreal qualities of Amity were everywhere, strongest in the darkest places. Objects disappearing in the blink of an eye, room layouts changing completely on a daily basis, all things that the residents should’ve noticed. But no one did, not even his family or closest friends. 
He was alone, the only one who was aware of his bizarre surroundings, now stuck in a room with a seemingly haunted cabinet. Danny stood, shifting into a fighting position. 
“Whoever you are, get out of there right now!” 
The slamming stopped, relieving him for a minute, before restarting again with increasing vigor. It was like it was mocking him, the whole town was. 
“Cut it out! I can’t deal with this crap anymore!” He readied a blast, uncaring if he would get detention for the rest of the year. “I’ll give you until three-”
The rattling came to an end, leaving the room quiet except for the ticking of a clock on the wall. 
“I can’t believe that actually worked.” He relaxed his posture, though only by a margin as he’d learned to never underestimate his luck’s ability to run thin.
“Daniel?” 
He jumped, realizing Lancer must’ve walked in while his student was glaring at the cabinet. He stuffed his hands into his pocket, attempting to seem unfazed. 
“Was that you yelling? I could hear it from the hallway.” 
“Um, yeah sorry. I thought there was a ghost.”
“Is that what it is?” Lancer closed the door, gesturing for him to sit down. “I wanted to talk to you about your behavior lately. You’ve been more taciturn than usual, perhaps it’s due to the increase in ghost activity?”
Huh, so there were some who had noticed something odd, even though it wasn’t to the full extent. Danny thought for a moment, testing the waters. Maybe Lancer saw more than he let on, noted the gradual changes to their city. 
Quietly, uncertain with his teacher’s response, Danny spoke. “I’m fine. Things have just been a little odd lately, besides the ghosts.”
“Well, I have an hour until my next class. Perhaps you can explain it to me,” Lancer leaned forward, showing his undivided attention. “You’ve been doing well this semester, I don’t want us going back to square one.”
Danny thought back to his freshmen year, bombarded with the change of his lifetime, having absolutely no time for his assignments or anything else in between. It was an arduous effort adjusting to his new life, or half life, and he wasn’t keen on losing control of everything he’d worked so hard for. 
“No, I don’t want to either. It’s the changes that are bothering me, I think. Amity.” He glanced over at Lancer’s face, eyeing any changes in expression. 
“I don’t think I follow.” He looked slightly confused. 
At this point, Danny would’ve usually given up, swept the issue under the rug and moved on with his day. He didn’t enjoy sharing his emotions, his burdens, but he just needed to know that there wasn’t something wrong with him, that someone else could see it too. 
“Don’t you ever see...I don’t know, weird things that shouldn’t be happening? Maybe hear noise and see light under a door, but walk in and there’s nothing there?” He steeled himself, looking up to meet Lancer directly in the eye, hoping that the man saw that he was speaking with clarity. “Or have you ever been behind a locked door and felt that someone was trying to get in? Or the dark...that’s where it’s the worst. Do you see any of that?”
“I can’t say I do, Daniel.” Lancer frowned. “And if that was the case, I would say it was the ghosts.” 
“But it’s not the ghosts. I know it’s not them.” His ghost sense would’ve gone off by now. “Entire buildings shift positions at night, there’s this dark fog everywhere. I know it sounds crazy-”
Lancer held up a hand. “I’ll have to stop you there. Nothing is ever too far fetched in this place, and I don’t like my students discrediting themselves before they get a chance to fully speak.” He paused, considering, before continuing with a grim tone. “Look, I know you won’t particularly like this answer, but do you think it possible you’re being haunted? It’s not unheard of for ghosts to become attached to a host here.”
“I don’t...” It wasn’t possible for ghosts to haunt other ghosts, was it?
“Before you decide, I suggest you talk to your parents. I know people your age don’t like to approach them for help, but they’re the biggest paranormal experts in town. You’ll find a solution there.”
Realizing that was the best response he was going to get, Danny slumped into his seat, disillusioned. “Alright, I’ll try bringing it up to them tonight.” 
“Good, and in the meantime, you know my office hours. I’m always open to helping you catch up.”
....
Danny had absolutely no intention of approaching his parents about his findings, confronting them was his very last resort. He remembered the incident with Youngblud, how their first instinct was to scare the crazy out of him, and he wasn’t keen on repeating it. 
Still, Lancer had unintentionally given him an idea, one he was surprised he hadn’t thought of before. If by any chance something was going on in Amity and his parents knew about it, they were sure to have kept data, information that the entire Fenton family was privy to. His parents were unconventional in the sense that their work was not kept secret from their children, all security activated by fingerprints or face recognition. 
It was, he knew, done with the hope that their kids would become just as interested in the study of the paranormal as they were. It was also, what they did not know, partly responsible for contributing to his accident. 
After double checking that his parents were not home, he snuck down to the lab, beelining his way to their work computer. As expected, it was easy as usual to log in, endless arrays of information at his disposal. To an untrained eye, his parent’s work was disorganized, even Vlad had said so. But he knew better, knew his way around their strangely named folders like he was reading the table of contents in a nonfiction novel. 
Ghost profiles, weaponry charts, data on present, past, and future projects, new developments...there. 
He clicked on the folder, apprehensive as it took a moment to load. Once it did, it took only a glance to tell that something was very, very wrong.
Unnatural levels of ectoplasm in the air, measurements at a high of-
Cognitive dissonance experienced by a reported 1 in 10 Amity citizens, signs of-
Missing teen, Ross Lucas, 16 years old, blonde hair, blue eyes, last seen in Amity Forest Reserve-
Polluted lake at Amity Central Park, no side effects reported, but water glows green-
Missing woman, 37 years old, brown hair, brown eyes, last seen in Amity Forest Reserve-
Reported disorientation, home layout changed. Upon further questioning, memory loss is reported, no reminder of filing the report-
Minor detail: green tint to sky at certain points of the day-
Missing man, 22 years old, brown hair, brown eyes, last seen in Amity Forest Reserve-
Poltergeist activity, Amity Police Station-
Missing teen, Jenny Lee, 15 years old-
Missing-
Missing-
-last seen in Amity Forest Reserve
From above, Danny heard the telltale rattle of the front door opening, lumbering footsteps and daintier ones tapping along the tile.
Acting on impulse, Danny shut down the computer, turning invisible and keeping quiet in case his parents approached. Sure enough, he heard them nearing the lab after a minute of rustling. He stood, holding his breath, while the Fenton’s chatter got nearer as they appeared. He noted that his dad carried a briefcase, unusual for a man who preferred his casual attire, one with the Amity Police Department seal along the bottom corner.
After what he had seen, he could only stare at the case in apprehension.
“Let’s handle this before the kids are home, Jack. I don’t want to scare them.”
“Why can’t we tell them? It’s dangerous right now, Mads. Vladdie wouldn’t risk the safety of his god kids for this.”
His mom sighed, plopping onto the desk chair and booting up the computer. “I want to as well. Especially Danny, he’s always sneaking off somewhere. I can’t imagine him leaving, seeing his name among the victims.”
“We don’t have to ask him for permission...”
“You’re right, we don’t. The kids know how to keep quiet.” Maddie went silent, gesturing over for the case. Jack laid it on the table, unlocking it with a quick passcode and handing her a series of documents. She placed them beside her, pulling up a series of weaponry profiles. 
“What I don’t understand,” she continued, “is why he was so adamant about them not knowing. Danny more than Jazz. What could possibly be the issue of keeping them safe?”
“Vladdie thinks ahead. Maybe he was worried they would try solving this themselves. Do you want me to ready the vault?” Upon his wife’s nod, Jack made his way over to the section of the wall behind Danny, waving a hand over a sensor to reveal hidden sliding metal doors. From behind them, hundreds of weapons resided, all of various types. He grabbed two, planting them beside Maddie. “Anyhow, this is one of those rare times I admit I disagree with him. Let’s tell them tonight.”
His wife chuckled, amused at the prospect of Jack disobeying his dear Vlad. 
“That’s rare to hear.” She bit her lip, eyeing the sheet. “What a tragedy. There’s a group that’s gone missing, we haven’t had so many at one time.”
“That’s five people! What were they doing in there?”
“I don’t know, the forest is rumored to have more ghosts than usual. You know how teens are, maybe it was a dare. The question is, how is it possible that our devices state the victims are in the vicinity, but none of them have come out?”
“Perhaps they’re being held captive, or maybe, maybe they’ve become...”
Jack didn’t dare finish the sentence, but Danny knew what he meant to say. If something evil lurked within the reserve, a being that wouldn’t allow a human to live, it’s possible their spirit hadn’t moved on.
Trapped within its confines as a ghost.
“I’m holding onto hope that’s not the case. We’ll get them out Jack, we’ve got Amity’s biggest experts joining us in the raid tonight. Vlad himself will be there, it’ll be alright.”
Deciding he’d heard enough, Danny kicked off, uncaring of the clatter of beakers he left in his wake. There was someone he needed to see, a person who owed him an explanation and who deserved the sucker punch of their afterlife.
His parent’s were optimistic, and whatever raid they spoke of obviously included thorough planning, but if there was anything he’d learned about fighting the paranormal, it was that one was not sure if those on the front lines would make it out alive.
He couldn’t allow that, he had placed that responsibility onto himself, and he would be damned if someone else would have to bear it.
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comradekatara · 3 years
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omg amazing do you have Thao songs you would assign to the gaang+?
instead of answering this ask like i did, for example, the fiona apple one, i’m gonna answer it like i did this ask, focusing on a singular album and the feelings it evokes. i’ve been listening to temple a lot lately so i felt that it made sense to focus on, especially considering its overarching themes. 
temple is about intergenerational trauma, specifically between a mother and daughter, and the pressure of the daughter to live out the dreams her mother could not due to the ruination of war. therefore, i feel like it applies to katara in multiple ways: living out the dreams of her mother, grandmother, hama, and other waterbenders and/or women whose lives were lost to genocide, imperialist warfare, and even arranged marriages. but also, as a victim of that war herself, and reconstructing the southern water tribe as the only southern waterbender left, passing on that legacy to her daughter, and to korra, (and her other waterbending pupils, i would imagine,) knowing that they got to have the childhood free of war she had always longed for. i believe that korra would feel that mantle of responsibility strongly, as an extremely privileged kid growing up in a society that was on the brink of extinction less than a lifetime ago, and being mentored by someone who was exposed to the worst horrors of the war firsthand when she was only a child, and spent the rest of her lifetime trying to repair the damage. katara and korra’s relationship just means a lot to me okay.... 
phenom okay this song can definitely apply to lots of different characters: katara (”when the scorched of the earth / come back by sea”), toph (i know she’s extremely upper class but she’s also a disabled woman and as we see that puts her in an extremely tentative position that forces her into a position of docility and humiliation that she staunchly resists), mai & ty lee (irt their relationship to azula, their families, and the fire nation at large), but it first & foremost reminds me of hama, her overwhelming power, and her unquenchable thirst for revenge after the horrors the fire nation put her through. 
lion on the hunt reminds me of azula’s rage & despair when she realizes that ozai doesn’t care about her and was only using her for his own ends, taking credit for all her (evil imperialist conquest) hard work while he just sat on his throne basking in the glory of having finally taken ba sing se. obviously the original context of the song itself is nothing so insidious, but the lyrics “they said I polish and astonish, and so why not me? / and then they said it's complicated and some wah, wah, wah / I made the map and you put you on it, pay me handsomely” really does remind me of that scene in “sozin’s comet” when we see azula’s reaction to ozai discarding her. 
pure cinema this song is absolutely fuel for my “mai and sokka become best friends after the war” agenda because it totally resonates with both of them! they both feel like hollow shells driven by fear, a mere fraction of a person, just one incomplete piece of a puzzle. crucially, the difference lies in sokka’s eventual growth, later helping toph and zuko with those same feelings of displacement from their families by finding a new one. despite having loving and supportive biological family members, sokka is a depressed cynic with a fear of vulnerability, and it is the fact that he reaches out to them from a place of understanding that solidifies their respective places in this new family (suki too but she’s a far less developed character). concurrent to sokka, toph, and zuko’s ingratiation into the group, mai continues to feel alienated by azula’s insincerity and fear-stoking, and it is only at the end of her arc that she is able to stand up to azula and act authentically, but once she does, she is finally able to realize that she had true love all along.   
marauders reminds me of the tension established in sokka’s relationship with suki in “the serpent’s pass:” how his guilt and trauma over losing yue makes him push suki away out of fear that he won’t be able to protect her. but by promising to protect him in turn, she proves to him that their relationship can be an equal partnership devoid of obligation––that their romance is not doomed despite his misgivings.  
how could i makes me think of sokka’s guilt complex when it comes to not being able to protect the people he loves. katara was present for kya’s final moments, but sokka was on the other side of the village when she was murdered, and didn’t know what had happened until it was too late. and then, he considers it his fault that yue sacrificed herself for the moon spirit, because arnook explicitly told him to protect her. her physical body literally died in his arms. and as we see later, in moments such as in “the swamp” or “the serpent’s pass,” even though it was the fire nation’s fault (yon rha & zhao specifically) that kya & yue were forced to sacrifice themselves, he is still plagued by guilt. 
disclaim evokes iroh’s legacy with his son(s), the guilt of realizing too late the devastation and atrocities for which he is responsible, and how he considers it his responsibility to shape zuko into the man he iroh should have been, and lu ten could have been. of course, the line “I was once an honorable man” is both incisive & ironic, since honor is an arbitrary construct, and iroh is no longer considered honorable because he developed morals. “I don't believe it's your destiny / to always chase my memory / how could it be insincere / to very clearly disappear” is interesting in this context because iroh clearly wants zuko to assume the throne and redeem the legacy of the fire nation, but in book 2, he’s also perfectly content to open a teashop and close himself off to the world outside the walls of ba sing se, along with his nephew. he knows that he and zuko have a duty to redeem the sins of their family, but there is a very large part of him that would be perfectly content with ignoring the outside world in favor of letting zuko heal. iroh is a complex character, but his love for zuko is never in doubt. 
rational animal reminds me of toph’s arc: abandoning her oppressive environment (specifically, her abusive father) and choosing to live authentically: not conforming to society’s standards and limitations for her as a disabled girl (who also rejects femininity). the bridge of “i believe my own eyes” becomes even more powerful due to the fact that toph’s experiences are constantly invalidated by authority figures due to her disability. she is keenly perceptive and empathetic––and not despite her blindness, but, in large part, because of it. 
i’ve got something is an extremely zuko song tbh. having the humanity & compassion stamped out of you to fulfill an imperialist agenda only to resist it due to your capacity for caring & overwhelming sensitivity that is impossible to ignore––that’s what it’s all about babey!!! 
marrow is actually about all of them because they are all children of war who are capable of being loved and of loving in return! but aang and katara’s genocide trauma and their unbreakable bond over their shared grief and desire for understanding, companionship, and happiness is especially potent, as always. 
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