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alparlaboratories · 28 days ago

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Yuri Game Jam 2024 - Retrospective, thoughts and five recommendations.

As my favorite yearly pre-holidays tradition, the Yuri Game Jam has once again come and gone, giving us a staggering 110 games, comics, zines and pieces of writing to gnaw on for the remainder of the year. The timing is, as always, on point. A 2-month period where I’m given the task to make something is just what I need to keep the stress of the dying year at bay and avoid losing my mind, and I’m sure it’s the same for a lot of us.

And though the Yuri Game Jam has been going strong for nearly ten years and I’ve only been part of the last two, I’m amazed by how much it’s grown. Not just in the amount of entries, but in the scope and craft of the games themselves. I always strive to play every single entry from a jam I’m part of to the best of my ability, and though I haven’t gone back yet and played the submissions for the eight yuri jams I’ve missed (like with everything, I just gotta find the time) just comparing last year to this one gives me a lot of appreciation for the people who put so much work into it, especially those I recognized from 2023’s jam, whose craft has definitely evolved. And some others making their debut who absolutely blew my socks off with their entries. More on that soon.

Regardless, hi. My current online moniker is Inyssa; I’m an Argentinian creature who’s very new to the world of Original English Visual Novels, and someone new to VNs in general, but who’s fallen in love with the genre and wants to learn all about it. I’ve made two VNs so far (Don’t Die Digging and Blunt Soul Trauma) both for Yuri jams, though I still feel like I have a lot to learn, which is why I try to play as many OEVNs as possible, and also read/watch what inspired them.

I’m not in the habit of writing long pieces like this one, but I just had a lot of thoughts bouncing off after playing a good chunk of the entries for this year, and I had to get them out somehow. So here we are.

First off, a shoutout and big thanks to nadia nova and SabrinaTVBand, the organizers of the jam and two amazing creators in their own right.

So here’s my idea. I’ll give a small introduction to my thoughts on this year’s jam after this, and then I’ll recommend five (maybe a few more) recommendations from this jam for you to play. Except a top-5 would be, I fear, a little repetitive. I know what I like in terms of VNs, and if I just listed my five favorites there’d be a bunch of the same type of VN, which is not my intention. I want a little variety.

As such, I’ll list out five different types of games, five categories decided completely arbitrarily by me, and assign a ‘best game’ to each of them. Because while I went through these entries, there were times I saved the heavy ones for when I was in the right headspace, and some of the softer ones for when I needed a break. So hopefully there’ll be a little something here for everyone.

Yeah? Yeah.

Some barely-connected thoughts about this jam, and my impressions so far.

Again, I’m speaking as someone who’s only been here for the past two jams, so I’m not sure how much insight I can give here. It’s just my thoughts and my impressions.

What caught my attention the most about this year’s jam, what pleasantly surprised me, was the variety of submissions. And I don’t mean that in genre or themes. Though there is a very healthy mix of those, but it’s more the types of stories, the way they were told and crafted, the skill that went behind them, that was so nice to see. And not to say it wasn’t good last year. I was just as impressed in 2023, playing game after game the likes of which I didn’t know I could have access to before.

And it’s not until I had this year to compare it to, I think, that I noticed how much more diverse the jam has gotten. And less streamlined, more blurry in a good way when it comes to intent, craft and themes in a way that kind of feels like a genre’s growth into something like negative capability, though that’s maybe too much to speculate for someone so new to it.

To put it more plainly, looking back I see a lot of what seem like similar through-lines, similar family trees you could say in the way a good number of the games were made, in what they reminded me of. You could tell there were some convergent inspirations. Which is common when it comes to artists and writers who know each other, and who surely recommend other works to each other that they’re particular to. Vonnegut, Nabokov, Mishima, Joseph Heller, Dennis Cooper, Dostoevsky and a pinch and a dash of Mark L. Danielewski; those are a few of the authors I kept thinking back on in retrospect as I re-visited last year’s games. And while they are fantastic inspirations, there’s a lot of intersecting lines in between them. A cultural and geographical quirk/fascination for a type of individualistic apathy that’s to be expected in a mostly English-speaking jam, and certainly not something that made me enjoy it or those games any less, but a scope I’m very happy to see widen in 2024’s set of submissions.

It’s just nice to have variety, you know? Also a bigger pool of myth re-imaginings and re-tellings, which I’m so happy to see this year. One of my favorite parts of any game jam is to play/read something and then immediately go experience whatever it was inspired by, and that this year’s jam gave me that opportunity many more times shows its growth alone, in my opinion.

And now I’ll give some examples. Not all of the categories will be about what I wrote above; there’ll still be a good amount of that goodness reminiscent of last year that made me fall in love with the jam in the first place. But there’ll be more of it than last time for sure.

In any case, here’s my five recommendations (plus a couple more) of games to play from this jam, each with an accompanying song of my choosing, most/all from my own country. We make good music, what do you want me to say?

Without further ado:

5 - “Porque no hay tiempo de amargarse ni llorar por un pasar mejor (Because there's no time to cry and feel bitter about what might’ve been).”

(Or: Psychosexual capitalist hellscape games)

Accompanying song: Cartonero by Ataque 77

This is, I’m sure, what many know the Yuri Game Jam best for, its bread and butter. And for good reason. You go to your favorite neighborhood food joint for the sandwich that reminds you of home, and you go to this particular game jam for the sopping wet pathetic girlthings being ground into paste by the masticating gears of capitalism.

This year’s crop didn’t disappoint on that front. It was actually hell to decide a best for this category.

But ultimately, I think the spot has to go to Heatwave by deaddeaddeath.

Content warnings: Dehumanization, self-harm, blood and violence, religious and sexual abuse, and more. Carefully look over the CWs in the game page before playing.

As I said before, this was so, so difficult. I knew that Heatwave deserved a recommendation as soon as I played it; one of the first games I played from the jam, actually. And then I played so many more that were just as good in that regard. Games that could’ve just as easily taken this spot… but none who reached this level of excellence, if only by a hair’s width.

One of those games is EasyXShot, which could’ve been the one chosen had I written this list some other day. It really was that close (if this were a straight-up top five, EasyxShot would be up there) and it’s a game that deserves to be played as long as you read the CWs beforehand. It has an immaculate dynamic between its two main characters, which is all you need to build a story really, but this one goes above and beyond. Another is No Dogs Under Heaven, which isn’t as much about capitalism, but definitely about grinding and crushing. Though it’s unfinished as of the time of me writing this, it made someone like me who has zero religious trauma deeply, deeply uncomfortable in a way I look for in these types of games, and also deserves a recommendation.

Anyway, onto Heatwave.

Catgirl suffers in capitalist hellscape

…is the main tag for the game, and it’s accurate. Angel (it/its) is a young cat hybrid who is in a not thoroughly explained and dubiously-consensual relationship with an older woman who runs a bar, living upstairs and helping her with whatever it can, whether it be its body or its skills. Unfortunately, even this isn’t enough for Angel to earn a living, and her caretaker needs money to keep it at her side. Left with no other choices, Angel applies to be a guide for the Heatwave, an impossibly vast and physics-defying space in between spots in the world where a blisteringly hot suburban landscape stretches into infinity, sapping the will and sanity of all who enter without being able to navigate it, which Angel seems to have an aptitude for. What follows is one of the best visual novels I’ve ever played.

Above, I said that I appreciate games that spark in me the curiosity to go and experience what they were based on, and Heatwave did that twice for me. Once with Roadside Picnic, and once for Not I (although that one isn’t as tied to the game per se).

But beyond that, I picked Heatwave for this spot because I genuinely think every part of it just works.

Writing, first and foremost. The prose is raw and evocative, a gut punch through words for every one there is textually within the story, and it reads so beautifully on top of that. ‘...wait until its shrapnel thoughts caltrop picasso’, as another reviewer commented, is one hell of a descriptive phrase. It’s the kind of prose that makes the eyes stick to every word.

The sound design and the use of sound assets is perfect for the setting. The visuals and the way they’re programmed, the sharp, static-y cut-ins and the PC-98 reminiscent decorative boxes around the game and around the character portraits are beautiful, and so are the portraits themselves. The expressions, the little facial animations, everything makes me want to learn how to do it myself.

Not to mention Del and Angel’s relationship, which is like watching a train speed full-steam ahead onto a concrete wall, and being unable to do anything about it. Angel’s struggles, its quirks and triggers and everything else about it is so well-thought out, and it’s all integrated into the setting of the game itself, into the Heatwave in a way that tells a story on top of another story without words.

Heatwave is an incredible piece of art, and it’s what I hope to see every time I play one of these games.

4 - “Los viejos reyes vendrán con la tempestad (The old kings will come riding atop the storm).”

(Or: Re-imaginings of myths and folklore.)

Accompanying song: El Reino Olvidado by Rata Blanca.

I couldn’t be happier that we’re spoiled for choice here, difficult though it makes choosing a best one amongst all these games. Though it’s not specifically mythological stories I wanted more of. It’s more the subtle differences like fingerprints that you can sometimes see in works made by non primarily English-speaking teams or developers, even if I’m not sure all the ones mentioned here count for that. Still, part of the reason I’ve been toying with the idea of launching a Global South game jam is to bring a little more spotlight to these kinds of stories, and to have them for myself so I can experience them, of course.

There were four games vying for this spot. First there’s Lanú, who I almost made the winner mostly because it’s a promising demo with an ambiance and a setting that really appeals to me, also being a Spanish-speaker, and the fact it’s also available in that language is a huge bonus.

Second is Night on the Bayou, a hilarious and very competently-made game about a Lousiana deadwoman rising from her grave as all specters do at the same time of year, and going on a quest to marry to her beloved before her time is up and she has to go back to the bayou. The art and the sprites are gorgeous, and it was also this close to winning the spot.

Third is Prisoner of the Mist, a beautiful T4T re-imagining of a few Scottish and Gaelic myths with a lot of love and originality thrown in. Very moving, very gay. I’d definitely recommend trying it out if any of that appeals to you.

But yeah, in the end it is Larut that takes the cake.

Fuck, the art of this game is gorgeous.

And not just the spritework, though that’s flawless on its own, but the whole presentation of the game, almost like reading an illustrated book of an old myth, the kind I used to read as a kid to give myself nightmares. Not to say that the game falls squarely in the horror category. It leans more psychological on that front, and there’s a good deal of intrigue and godly politicking going on that makes you want to know more.

Larut is a re-telling of the Indonesian myth of Nyi Roro Kidul, the godly Queen of the Southern Sea, a figure as enigmatic as she is regally charming, and who sees fit to take a young woman under her fins after she’s lost everything at the hand of her abusive family, making her into her lady-in-waiting. Said woman, Kandita, becomes grateful and infatuated with Nyi Noro Kidul in equal measures, to worrying degrees.

To what extent is this within the queen’s expectations, however, is not clear.

Despite being a re-telling of an already existing myth, the care and meticulous detail that went into every aspect of this game is easily on par with the best of myth adaptations. As I said before, I could see this being sold as an illustrated book in a library and I wouldn’t bat an eye. It’s clear the developers, artists and writers were not only on the same page, but knew exactly what they were doing, exactly what they wanted to make from this myth.

And they succeeded with flying colors. Do yourself a favor and give it a try; it’s not every day you get the chance to learn about mythology in such a beautiful way.

3 - “Quiero besarla hasta sentir dolor (I want to kiss her until it hurts.)”

(Or: So, how ‘bout that yuri?)

Accompanying song: Enamorada by Miranda.

Picking the best yuri out of the whole of the biggest Yuri Game Jam so far is as much of a tall order as I imagined, but at least the other four categories were able to take some games to themselves, because otherwise this would be impossible.

In terms of queer relationships, character dynamics and just the vibes of the yuri, there’s going to be a lot of room for debate. I’m not judging any of these in terms of real-life relationships. Nor am I trying to find the coolest, most interesting character dynamic; you could say this is a spot for something softer, a break from the intensity and trauma of the other categories.

It’s about girls kissing, is what I’m trying to communicate.

But it is also about vibes, about what game I enjoyed the most while being mostly invested in the main couple, if that makes sense. If not, sorry. I just want to talk about this specific handful of stories. First come the honorable mentions, though:

Gap Moe Mob Boss is exactly what it says on the tin; a harsh, commanding dog-girl mob boss comes back from prison to find another gang trying to encroach in her territory, and she must balance her role as a mafioso with her desire to spend all her time in the café where her bunny-girl crush works. It’s sweet, it’s nice to play and it has more research into organized crime than you’d think. Then there’s The Delicate Hearts of Sincerely Affectionate Girls, a hand-drawn and colored comic about someone coming to terms with her identity and the way in which she sees love, different from those around her. It’s hard to find good non-traditional romance, and this one is very realistic and sweet on top of that, so give it a try. Finally there’s Mechanical Relations, straight from the creator of my favorite entry for this year’s Menhera game jam; a short, adorable RPG about a robot girl and her girlfriend crashing into a scrap planet and having sex while waiting to be rescued. Simple, but effective.

The spot, though, ultimately goes to Signal Strength because I think it deserves the spotlight.

This is a videotome game about a small group of lesbians who work at an agricultural research station and a radio communications center in some far-off moon away from Earth, with little to do every day except talk to each other online or riding tractors. Ming, who works at the former, is bored out of her mind. With little else to do, she comes up with the idea of filming a home-made children’s show for her little sibling, using what little resources she and her friends can gather and roping them into acting and filming roles, including her ex and radio operator, who is very awkward around her.

Signal Strength might be the shortest of the games mentioned for this category, but there’s just something about it. It’s a simple game, but everything feels on point. The videotome aspect and vibes of the whole thing are immaculate; it feels as though you’re watching it all through a cheap video camera, and the ambient rural sounds are very well picked and utilized.

Though it’s the setting and how the characters react to that made me fall in love with it. It really feels like watching a group of young queer people stuck in a rural area who have to come up with their own entertainment, and there’s something so charming about it. Not to mention that the main relationship of the game is as realistically painful as these things usually are, especially when everyone knows each other where you live.

Also I thought the ending was very cute and appropriate.

It really is a nice, bite-sized gem of yuri, and that’s exactly what I wanted for this category, so go play Signal Strength. I doubt you’ll be disappointed.

2 - “I don’t actually have lyrics for this one.”

(Or: The best executed concept/well put together game).

Accompanying song: Fine, a small break from Argentinian rock. Go listen to the opening song for the 90’s anime adaptation of B’t X, it fucks.

I wanted a category where I could talk about the games I thought worked well from front to end, the ones that had a concept and executed it perfectly or those that were really nicely crafted, though I’m not talking about production values.

Basically, the games where I didn’t have anything I would’ve personally fixed about it. The ones I looked at and thought ‘Yep, everything’s perfectly in place, what a tight narrative, it’s exactly what it needs to be’. Believe it or not, it’s hell to do that on purpose.

And how wonderful that there were enough of these that I had trouble deciding, but also how stressful. These are the honorable mentions.

I feel bad I couldn’t give the spot to Monstrous Deep Blue, so you should go play it. The concept is simple; what if a tokusatsu episode but with sad trans girls who are terrible at expressing their emotions and being honest with each other? And it’s so well-executed. The story is exactly as long and as well-written as any of the best tokusatsu eps. and the spritework is adorable, not to mention the characters themselves. It’s a good one.

Then there’s Meat Girl! I loved this one. A short RPG about a girl who goes to the forest in search of her girlfriend who vanished months ago, but whom she couldn’t search for before because she was too numb and depressed. And in the meantime, it seems, said girlfriend has made friends with an angel who seems to want something from her. Also meat. Also mycelium networks. It’s short but quite punchy, definitely give it a try.

Anyway, I think the most impressive game of this jam is Bridgewater Deepwood Access Radio.

I would kill for Zinnia Braxton.

But anyway, this was the latest entry out of any of the ones in this list, but as soon as I finished playing I knew it deserved a mention. Even though it’s just a demo, it’s the game I enjoyed playing/reading the most, and I was really impressed all throughout by the care and polish that went into every little detail, big or insignificant.

Bridgewater Deepwood Access Radio is about a pair of lesbian coworkers who do a late-night paranormal radio show together, taking calls and listening to people’s supposed paranormal stories, injecting their own thoughts and theories in between. Reb is the romantic out of the romantic/detective dichotomy, maybe not fully buying every story but doing her best to let people be heard, while Zinnia is very much on the opposite camp, a stubborn and sometimes rude skeptic that can barely wait for people to finish telling their stories before shooting ten different holes into them.

The dynamic is really well-written, first of all. Skeptic/believer is a classic for a reason, one of my favorites, and adding Reb and Zinnia’s wildly different personalities and the way they’re both obviously into each other yet only one seems aware is very entertaining to read. Also they’re funny. This game is really funny, which is something that’s hard to do on purpose.

Then there’s the framing of the story. Though six (or more) are planned for the full release, the demo counts with four callers, each one with their own paranormal story to tell, each written and illustrated by a different person, to give the whole thing a bigger ‘anthology’ feel. And it’s hard to overstate just how much that helps the concept.

Though there were four of them, I couldn’t pick a favorite out of the callers/stories told in the demo. Each is unsettling in a very different way. Each draws you in as much as it does Reb and Zinnia, until the latter has a harder and harder time denying something weird is going on. Not to mention the music and the illustrations that every separate artist/composer provide adds to its own tale wonderfully.

Then there’s the honestly beautiful UI work. You look at the girls as though from behind a producer booth, complete with a multitude of buttons and switches and little doodads you can stim with while you experience each of the stories, each one with their own distinct and satisfying click-y sound. And it’s not just the outline. Every visual and audio touch to the UI transitions, to the main menu, even to the transitions of the scenes themselves is so polished and satisfying to experience.

I can’t imagine how much work from so many different people must’ve gone into this. A real team effort. And after playing it, I had to give it a topping spot on this list just on that alone, even if there’s many more reasons why I think it deserves it.

Not the least of which being that out of all the unfinished games on this jam, this is the one I want to see continued the most. I remain on the edge of my seat.

1 - “Pero no detendrán la primavera (But you won’t stop Spring from coming.)”

(Or: A shield of love and a spear of pure spite against the onslaught of fascism)

(Or: “You can’t all be posting on twitter, some of you fuckers gotta help your community”)

Accompanying song: Primavera by La Mancha de Rolando.

This might be the least populated, least complicated of the five categories, but it’s the one that matters to me the most. And while there are a handful of games that could fit here if I stretched the definition a little, there’s only one I feel really deserves both the mention and the spot, and I want to jump straight into it because I have a lot to say here.

She Was Swallowed by the Sun is my favorite game of this year’s Yuri Game Jam. Which doesn’t surprise me, as the people who made it, Snek (writer), Blood Machine (artist) and CØL (music) are also responsible for another one of my favorites from last year’s jam, and I am obsessed with everything they make together.

Content Warnings: Bloody yet consensual sex scenes, state violence and sexual assault, unrelenting and suffocating fascism, gore, body horror and a lot more. Please read the game’s CWs written in the Main Menu and consider them before playing.

Previously I talked about how glad I was for the widening scope of this year’s crop of games in terms of themes and apparent inspirations, and while maybe running similar paths to some of those I mentioned, She Was Swallowed by the Sun veers in a completely different direction, in a good way. I’ll explain with a bit of a tangent before getting into the game proper:

Many of the transgressive fiction I’ve played on itch.io since developing an interest in OEVNs have done a very good job at depicting the realities of being queer, of being part of any minority while living under capitalism or fascism, probably far better than I could, and that’s part of what keeps me coming back to certain authors in the sphere. But there’s sometimes aspects of said games that fail to resonate with me fully. The… to put it unfairly, somewhat apathetic and individualistic view of one’s fate when living under these conditions does resonate, it’s true and raw and something I’m always happy to see, but there’s something about the flavor, the way it’s written that clashes with my own experiences having grown up where I have.

I guess it feels like it lacks some bite, compared to what I grew up reading? Which is no fault of the writing itself; not every story, not even this type, needs that kind of bite and I don’t want to imply that it makes those stories lesser in any way. I’m just describing the feeling of welcomed surprise that comes when you go to a restaurant in a foreign country and they make food exactly how you’re used to eating it back home.

To put it bluntly, and not to toot my own horn but more that of those who came before me, our works of the same genre tend to skew more hopeful and defiant than the Anglo/Euro/American literature I’ve been catching up on these past few years. I guess having been the first Latin-American country to put its CIA-backed dictators to trial, and to force the man responsible for the death and disappearance of over 30.000 of our most vulnerable to die cold and alone in a cell, shitting himself to death, does give you a bit of an ego when it comes to standing up fascism.

And right now, with those who would gladly follow in his footsteps, who would gladly throw our culture and history away and and gag on America’s cock currently in charge of our country, with our most vulnerable at risk again… Hopefully you can understand why I’d appreciate a game like She Was Swallowed by the Sun so much. A game about willing to put a bullet in your own head if it comes out the other end and goes into a fascist’s skull as well.

Anyway, enough about that. Watch Argentina 1985 if you wanna learn more, but now let’s get back to the game.

She Was Swallowed by the Sun stars One, a woman who was sent to prison for the supposed crime of trying to grow a Godseed, a dubious artifact that if fed by One’s body and the right amount of ‘shrines’ in specific locations, has the power to ‘call the sun’. To say more on that front would be spoilers. After spending a long time in prison, hiding the Godseed from the state within her own body, she returns to her old home where Anhedonia, her girlfriend and the one who’s been slipping her drugs that allowed her to halt the Godseed’s growth inside her, is waiting for her.

What follows is nearly 30k words of One and Anhedonia’s daily life as they continue their revolutionary work, using One’s body to feed the Godseed -which causes her indescribable pain- and putting in place all the necessary shrines for the day of reckoning, the only chance anyone might have to deal a fatal blow to the fascist state they live under.

And in the meantime, knowing full well that their deaths are swiftly approaching, One and Anhedonia live their lives. They cook stuff for each other, they go out on dates, they have bloody sex on multiple occasions and they hang out with their only friend now and then, being adorable gay dorks.

If that contrast sounds as interesting to you as it did to me, you might get why I love this game so much. Of course that balance can’t last forever. Of course things deteriorate. The Godseed continually feasts on One’s insides, sprouting eyes all over her that give her a near-divine cognizance that’s too much to bear, and the price she and Anhedonia have to pay in order to make it to the end is more than either of them can mentally or physically stand, and yet they do it anyway. To say more would, again, be spoilers, but the rounding third of the game is a series of scenes that feel like a knife is being twisted inside your gut continuously.

And yet One and Anhedonia never stop being cute, gay dorks in love with each other.

It’s not just the unfathomable acts of love they perform for each other, it’s not just the determination to die for their cause or the unfairness of it all. It’s the feeling that this is something that must have happened in the real world, multiple times.

She Was Swallowed by the Sun does not pull its punches. Its setting might have some fantastical elements, but the pain and oppressive hold of fascism are very real. And that, combined with the way the story itself is resolved, feels almost like a love story to those who have died maybe not for the righteous wish for a better tomorrow, but simply because they can’t live unless they push back.

The way self-sacrifice is shown in the game is refreshing. It’s often not a decision taken in the heat of the moment but a series of decisions taken deliberately over the course of months if not years. It’s sitting alongside the people you love and every day choosing to further a plan that you know will kill you, or them, or all of you, because you just have to. Those around you wouldn’t love you if you chose to do anything else.

And the way that is shown, brought to a boil and then a post-conflagration simmer deserves all the praise I can give. I love this shit. I love this game. If you can stomach the content warnings, I’d say give it a chance to make you love it too.

Closing thoughts

Hard to believe that a couple people working together to organize an event like this, plus all the support and encouragement from the other jammers in the Discord server, is all it takes to bring over a hundred yuri games into the world.

It boggles the mind to see a niche like this grow so much year after year, and it makes me very excited to see what 2025’s gonna bring on that front. Personally, I wouldn’t mind seeing some shonen yuri VNs. Nadia nova has done some good work there already, but there can always be more.

And again, big thanks to nadia and SabrinaTVBand for making this all possible and for moderating the community out of the goodness in their hearts. This jam means a lot to me, and a lot of people, and without it we wouldn’t have so many incredible games.

Until next year then, and do try to give these reccs a try. I’d bet you’re not gonna be disappointed.

#yuri game jam 2024 #visual novel #yuri #queer games #retrospective #larut #signal strength #heatwave #she was swallowed by the sun #bridgewater deepwood access radio

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ofbluesandyellows · 2 years ago

Text

Committed to the Cause - TASM! Peter Parker / Fem! Reader

Summary: Spider-Man gets injured in battle, he accidentally crashes into you and his hero complex comes into action. As he tries his best to redeem himself he can’t find a way out from the guilt and unbidden feelings.

Word count: 5,321

Warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, swear words, grief.

a/n: Hi! It’s me again, here I bring a story I started writing almost a year ago but i kind of forgot it existed until like four months ago. It’s a tasm! one, hope you like it! I divided it in 3 parts because it is a bit long so yeah, have fun :)

Part 1

Peter Parker sat down near Gwen Stacy’s grave, the sky was evenly gray and the cool air swirled around making the snowflakes dance away and float around. It’s been only a week since he came back to his universe.

“I wonder how Peter 2 and Peter 1 are doing right now.” He whispered to Gwen, while his fingers brushed through the colorful daisies he bought for her. “I’m Peter 3 you know? I guess 3 is just the best number,” he shrugged remembering the chaos of that night around his brothers from another universe, literally.

“Honestly Gwen, if you only could’ve seen them—see us. They were truly amazing, and the way we all connected and then we were shooting webs, the synchronicity that I experienced— I never had that. It was as if we could read each other’s minds and wow—it was fucking cool.“

Peter sighed, a hue of vapor escaped his lips. “I bet you saw it though, how I saved MJ? Peter 1’s girlfriend, I did what I couldn’t do for you Gwen. I’m sorry, I'll always be sorry for that.”

Adjusting his beanie tighter to his head when a sudden wave of wind made his skin form goosebumps. Deep in his heart he could feel that Gwen was actually listening to his banter, that this was her way of telling him that things were okay between the two.

Peter went to see Gwen every week, she was the love of his life, he was certain of it. But the truth was that Peter had lost all hope on love after Gwen.

He’d be lying if he denied the fact that he had found himself thinking of what Peter 2 said to him; that things worked out fine eventually in the love department, it put the seed of curiosity in him, what if things actually changed for him, in his heart, and he could finally let Gwen rest. He was clinging to her memory like a life jacket, if he let go he would drown, he would lose himself to the darkness.

His phone buzzed as a message showed him a text of the police department trying to contact Spider-Man.

“Gotta go Gwen, I’ll see you next week. Love you so much.” He put a kiss on his palm to then let it linger on her tombstone.

In a hidden part of an alley he put his mask on, he had to put his stuff between some garbage bags so people wouldn’t steal it, there wasn’t much to steal there, still he plastered it with web fluid, a force of habit. He swung between tall buildings and across streets, hearing sudden gasps and shouts announcing his presence in the city. It was funny how things had actually changed for him in the span of years; The Daily Bugle seemed to stop with the nasty propaganda; he was now on good terms with the police, he also had free health insurance thanks to the police department and he was doing well financially. Stark Industries was a place he never thought he would find a spot to fit in, to do the research he felt drawn to.

There were big threats still in New York but Peter didn’t feel that dread whenever he fought, the constant fear of losing someone he loved, those being the benefits of being alone, but how alone could you be to start missing the company of a partner after years of being lonesome?

Spider-Man quickly solved the robbery near the upper east side, it wasn’t a major thing, the thieves got webbed and delivered to the detectives, he got a bullet wound in his shoulder but nothing some tweezers, neosporin and a bandage couldn’t solve. Peter was even able to do so by himself now: the perks of being alone.

Peter had received several injuries and even more deeper wounds than the one he had on his shoulder but this one time as he shoot a strand of web coming from his right arm—the wounded one—his arm didn’t find it easy to carry his weight, and he was feeling somewhat dizzy, he thought it was the blood lose, because he hadn’t received a kick to the head nor anywhere his body could react the way it was doing now. He found himself screaming as he fell from a twenty four storage building.

“Watch out! Spider down!”

His instincts shouted at him to use his other web shooter, he did so, but Peter was being a little clumsy today. Slow motion turned on in his brain. The web-thread splashed on the building in front of him, but the height wasn’t enough to make him swing by without any implications. The chime of a bicycle bell was his only warning. After that he felt the clash of his body against something warm and then he rolled on the cold concrete.

That was embarrassing. People screamed and sooner than what Spider-Man could recover, people were surrounding him to help him get up.

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” He spoke under the mask, his shoulder throbbing with every move.

It took him a few seconds to register what just happened. He saw a mint green bike with a twisted handlebar, a bunch of flowers scattered and crushed on the ground and then panic started to bubble in his chest. A girl—a young woman was sitting on the wet asphalt, a few people were kneeling by her side as she held her arm against her chest.

Spider-Man ran to her side, pushing the pedestrians lightly. Squatting down, his eyes scanning her, a scrape on her cheek and forehead on the same side of what he guessed was an injured arm.

“I am so sorry, I swear this isn’t me, I mean it is me but I don’t know what happened I don’t— are you alright? Can I help you with anything?”

The woman had pools of tears on the rim of her eyes, she was holding them in, because that was just humiliating, she was late for the delivery and now she had lost the bouquets and she didn’t dare to accuse The Spider-Man of her bad luck. The day was not a good one since the start. This was the ultimate confirmation.

“No, Spider-Man… sir, It’s not your fault, I just, I think I broke my arm.” She was barely able to pronounce the words, she was in terrible pain, how could she know?

“Oh, let me see.” Peter gulped under the mask, his stomach churning. He had broken the woman’s arm, this was bad. Taking her elbow she winced, tears finally slipped down her cheeks, shit. “Ms. I need to take you to the hospital.”

“No, no I have work, I can't go to the hospital now.” He saw the panic take over her features.

“It’s the least I could do. I caused this, please let me do something.”

Guilt was eating him alive, the more time he spent there with all the witnesses watching and telling her she should take Spider-Man’s word.

She felt a little hazy on the head, like when you take a pill to not get dizzy on a long road trip, and everything starts to lose sense, sounds muffling. She shook her head trying to keep the masked hero away, she had to work, she needed to gather the flowers and—

“Ms.?” Spider-Man felt panic, a rush of blood like his spider senses were going off.

Her eyes rolled backwards and she went limp on his arms.

“No, no, no.” he mumbled, taking her in his arms he did what he could to swing through the city to reach the nearest hospital.

People, nurses, doctors, they all came to a halt when they saw Spider-Man arrive carrying a woman on his arms, this was quite the scene Peter could imagine but he was not able to think straight not when he had hurt someone—by mere accident that was true, yet the guilt was so heavy he felt like he could cry under the mask.

“I need help please!” He shouted and as if he had broken a curse, nurses and doctors moved again, some of them walking towards him.

“What happened?” a nurse asked as they started moving him to a nearby stretcher.

“uh, I… she had an accident on her bike and I think her arm is broken and she has a concussion or something I’m not sure.”

The nurse nodded as they put oxygen on the girl quickly moving her to the ER. Peter followed them until someone stopped him. “Sorry man, you can’t come in.”

“Oh, yeah ok. I’ll just wait.”

“You need to get yourself fixed too.” The same nurse told him, pointing to his shoulder. “You’re ruining the floor.”

Peter’s eyes looked down and there, from his shoulder all the way down to his finger tips a thread of blood was dripping down, leaving crimson drops on the floor.

“Sorry,”

A minute later another nurse got to him and made him follow her into a room.

“We know you can’t reveal your identity and if people keep on seeing you out there they’re gonna start asking questions and it’s gonna be messy. So mister Spider-Man can you take off your suit? The mask can stay on, I need to clean that.”

Peter was a bit shocked still and maybe the blood loss was not helping so he nodded, his suit landed at his feet in a pool or red and blue, at least he was wearing a nice pair of boxers.

“I recommend you to come back later, you will only cause drama here, mister Spider-Man”

The nurse said and Peter just watched her work.

He was good as new in no time. His head felt light still but he managed to swing back to where he put his belongings in that alley. With the last bits of adrenalin still in him, he swung back to May’s, he sat on his old bed, suit on, mask off. The uneasiness he felt in his chest was suffocating. Why did he leave the hospital then? He couldn’t be at peace now. And why did he end up at May’s when he had his own apartment in Manhattan?

Maybe his injury affected his brain, his eyes checked his shoulder and the little wound was almost closed, thank goodness for fast healing but what about those who didn’t have that… What about the girl?

He wanted to make sure the girl he hurt was okay, it was an obvious statement. Yet he couldn’t go as Peter because he didn’t know anything about her and ugh, he grunted against his hands. Then he could go as Spider-Man. He knew the nurses would let him in if he asked kindly. However, he was scared of the reaction of the girl, what would she think of him of his idiocy. Spider-Man was not known for hurting pedestrians, he was supposed to save them not harm them.

His phone chimed from inside his backpack, Peter was on a streak of bad luck.

The news on his mistake quickly spread, he shook his head reading the article The Bugle had just released, how were they so fast? He wondered as his messages continued to pop up, Jonah Jameson wanted photos of Spider-Man, Peter’s former boss couldn’t let the other news sites win the exclusive so when it came to Spider-Man he still contacted Peter for exclusive photos, and Peter delivered, just because the news always made him look nice, but not this time.

Peter groaned even louder, this was not how he planned his day to go. Whenever he visited Gwen he usually had the best experiences afterwards, once he found a fifty dollar bill on the subway, just lying there on a seat, and then there was this other time where he got a free coffee because the owner proposed to her girlfriend and the drinks were free.

But that luck seemed to be long gone.

“Peter, are you in there?”

Peter’s heart jumped, he didn’t know May was home. “Yes it’s me, May!”

“Are you okay?"

“Um, yeah. I just got work to do and you know me… I’m complaining.”

“With the amount of hours you work I’d complain too. Are you heading out? I need you to bring me some bread and milk, are you staying the night, right?”

“Yeah, sure, May. Why not! Are you working today?”

“Yes, but the car is at the mechanic,” Shit, Peter totally forgot about that, he made a mental note to give May some money to get that car fixed.

“At what time you’re off?” he asked, putting a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie on. “Do you want me to pick you up?” he said, opening the door.

May shook her head, a sweet smile on her face, “No, Peter. Jamie, my coworker is driving me back, you’re fine. Just don’t come back too late okay.”

Her hand caressed Peter’s cheek, making his anxious body feel slightly better. He gave her palm a light kiss and nodded. “Of course not May, when have I been late for our weekly dinners?”

He let out a chuckle watching May drop her hand as she rolled her eyes, she shook her head and with a tired sigh she only added. “Don’t forget the bread and milk!”

“I won’t!”

His smile dropped once he heard his phone buzz again. Plopping on the bed, with furrowed eyebrows, and a guilty mind, he took the decision he guessed was the most appropriate, maybe was a little over the top either way his hazy mind was calling the shots for the day.

He found himself crawling up the walls of the hospital at night, after finding the girl’s room. Spider-Man found a way in, the windows were tiny but not too tiny to not let him sneak his body inside. Crazy, he knew, he had no other option.

Seemed like none of her family members got informed because no one was there making her company. Peter felt even worse. Gulping, he took a step closer to her bed, she was sleeping. It gave him enough time to assess the damages he caused. She had butterfly closures on her forehead, her lips were chapped and her arm was in a cast resting on her stomach. Her face was resting on the pillow in a weird angle almost over her left shoulder.

The IV made a rhythmic noise with each drop, the monitors were checking her heart rate. Somehow seeing her like that made the guilt and worry grow, Peter wanted to fix this.

His eyes landed on a clipboard over a table at the feet of the bed. He grabbed it and checked every detail. Name y/n, heart skipped a beat, now her face had a name. You were a year younger than him, you had health insurance, well that was something good he could cross from the list of his doing wrongs.

No concussions, no internal bleeding, you had surgery on your broken arm, Peter winced, the radius broke in two and now you were half a robot with the pins and rods attaching your bone together. That definitely was not helping Peter feel better.

“Shit,” he mumbled, placing the clipboard back down. His hands were up to his head.

When his eyes found your face you were looking at him, with wide eyes and parted lips, Peter felt his soul leaving his body.

“Jesus fuck!” He gasped a hand on his chest. “You scared me,”

“I—um sorry? I’m, what… how did you get in?”

His hands went to his hips and shrugged. “Through the bathroom window.”

“Why?” you tried to reincorporate on the bed but whined when you moved your arm, like you forgot you had it in a cast.

“Because there was no other way to get in,”

“But there’s a door there,” you pointed with your head. “It’s easier,”

Peter furrowed, you were not able to see him. He sighed. “Yeah, I know that. But it’s the anonymity of the visit that I want to keep… anonymous.”

What was he saying now!

He shook his head. “Um, how are you feeling?”

You scoffed, Peter deserved that disdain. “Like shit, well not as bad because I’m on medication but still not great with a useless arm.”

The casted one got up as if to show him, he nodded. Taking a step closer, his hands grasped the plastic railing at the feet of the bed.

“I can imagine— I owe you an apology, I wasn’t feeling too well and it wasn’t my intention to hurt you… or anyone. I don’t do that, you know? Goes against the hero thing.”

Your eyes were shining either for the low lights coming from outside or because you were on very strong medications, Peter couldn’t tell, what he saw was a little smile on your lips.

“I suppose it’s not on the hero policy… It's fine Spider-Man, sir.”

Peter chuckled. “Spider-Man it’s fine, I’m not as old as you may think I am.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Really? I thought you were like thirty five or something.”

“Ouch, I… hmm no, no I—listen. I'm gonna tell you this because I think I owe you something so I’ll answer this one concern of yours, I'm around your age. So think twice before calling me old again, young lady.”

Now he saw a full smile blossom in your face, it made him feel better, a lightness finally reaching his sore shoulders.

“Um okay,” you laid deeper on your pillow, a smile still tugging at the corner of your lips.

Peter felt suddenly so overly conscious of his body and presence in front of you in a dark room, the darkness was helping but he felt your eyes on him as he paced around.

“Do you know how many days you are gonna be here?” he asked.

“I have no idea, I woke up surrounded by people, then I passed out when the nurse extended my arm and woke up like two hours ago to go pee and then fell asleep and then you were here.”

“That bad huh?” Peter crossed his arms as he leaned his back on the wall right in front of you.

“The pain was bad, but now it’s light. I do feel like I’m in a cloud when I don’t move.”

“That must be nice,” his back cracked unbidden.

“That, on the other hand, sounds bad… Are you better now? or why did you crash into me?”

Peter blinked, scratched his forehead and watched you, you looked tiny and sleepy.

“I got a bullet wound right here,” he touched his clavicle. “Lost blood and that’s when I accidentally crashed into you I was feeling dizzy, but yes I am better now.”

“I see… well, at least you are not in risk of losing your job,”

Peter straightened, a knot in his throat. “You lost your job? because of me?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, making his agony longer.

“Not really, just my weekly payment. My dad’s the owner so he wouldn't fire me, but still he didn’t even come see me, so” you shrugged. “you’re all good Spider-Man.”

“Hmm for what it’s worth I am truly sorry and I want to make it up to you, so if you need anything, really I am here for you.” Peter walked to your side, his hand lingered over your shoulder, debating himself if the touch would be too much.

“I don’t think I need anything, but thank you.” you were blinking more often, heavier.

“Are you sure?” his hand dropped by his side, forming a fist.

He wanted you to ask him a favor he wanted to feel useful, to prove to you he was good and not an asshole.

Your eyes grew big for a moment. “Wait, there is something… but I don’t think it’s safe,”

Peter clasped his hands together. “I’ll do it, what is it? I mean I’m Spider-Man, if something is not safe I am your guy, I do unsafe things for free all the time.”

“Hmm… right, okay yeah. I mean it’s not safe for me but why not, what else could happen to me, right?”

You laughed, Peter grimaced, fair enough.

“My dog, I have a little dog and he hasn’t been fed since I left this morning so… I mean if you don’t have any crime to fight right now, would you feed him?”

And his heart melted, maybe because you looked very worried and the way you were observing him made his chest flutter.

“Yeah, of course. I love dogs, I can do that, easy peasy. You got it!”

You grinned at him, teeth and sparkly eyes, Peter felt weird.

He let you explain how much food he had to put on his plate, and to refill his water bowl as well, to not step on his little grass square where he peed and to leave the window just ajar for the air to circulate.

And at the end you gave him your address, hesitation still on your voice, but Peter promised you he was going in and out fast.

“I’ll check on you later okay?” Spider-Man said, as he walked to the bathroom.

You nodded, giving him a lipped smile. “You can use the door,”

“Nah, not my style… see ya later y/n.”

Peter struggled to get out, it wasn’t as easy as getting in. He considered using the door next time.

Your apartment was small, not too small but it wasn’t big as in rich family kind of big. But it was small as in cozy. Your dog, Percy, was barking at him as he entered through your room’s window. It smelled like coconut, he sighed.

When he opened the door to reveal the hall leading to the living room, Percy jumped at his legs, looking at him with curiosity, and the barking resumed. Peter started petting him on his tiny head and as soon as Peter reached his bag of food, Percy sat at his feet.

“Oh good boy!” He scratched tiny Percy on the back of his ear. “Okay, Percy, show me your bowl…”

It surprised Peter to see Percy run from the kitchen to the spot dedicated to the little Yorkiepoo, two bowls rested side by side on a corner as his bed was placed right beside the largest couch in the room. Toys were scattered around and Peter smiled.

“Okay so your kind owner said half a cup and two treats, right?” Percy tilted his head, Peter laughed. “You are too cute”

The bowls got filled with the respective things and as Percy ate throwing Spider-Man curious looks, Peter roamed around the room. His mask forgotten on the couch. You were messy but not too messy, your apartment was clean and you had flowers everywhere. A big vase of daisies in your bedroom. Another one with lavender carnations and purple monte casinos, it made your house smell fresh. He watched a photo of you with friends and he noticed how different you looked, dressed up in casual clothes, hair brushed and yes, without a cast on the arm.

You were pretty, he noticed, how your hair fell over your shoulders and your eyes were big and sparkly. Maybe your eyes were always shining.

A bark took him out of the trance, Percy was at his feet again looking up to him. Peter squatted down and patted the dog, until the latter laid on his back showing Peter his chubby belly.

“You want me to scratch your belly? Okay, but just once because I have to go, still need to go buy some stuff you know? I need to fight bad guys and do groceries, not like you!” he kept on scratching until Percy moved his back legs as if he wanted to scratch himself. “Look at you, living your best life.”

With a sigh, Peter stood up. Ready to go back to his life, this has been a nice way to stop for a second but for him there were not many breaks.

A flick of a wrist, the window slid open a little, he gathered his web with his hand so Percy wouldn’t eat it, put his mask on and jumped off the balcony window.

Spider-Man had a busy night, some guys robbed a few trucks with chemicals inside that ended with an explosion on a dock. He felt a bruise forming on his back and arms, but he managed to get out of there, leaving the robbers webbed onto a wall of a building, the police and the firemen arrived in time for him to take a minute to recover from the smoke and the harsh hits his body received.

He filled in the police with the information and as the sun emerged, the warm sun beams calmed the pain and the coolness of his bones as he made his way back to the hospital.

Spider-Man was not in condition to sneak in through the smallest window in the room, so he entered through the emergency exit and took the elevator. People threw him furtive looks, a kid hugging his mom’s arm had his eyes glued to him, so he did what any other person would do, Peter waved at him and the kid beamed. With excuses and hand gestures Peter sighed, exiting the elevator, no nurses were around but once he entered your room, he got surprised by the one nurse who had received you a day before.

“Oh mister Spider-Man, good to see you.” She smiled at him and Peter saluted her as she made her way to the door. “She is ready to go,” she winked at him and Peter knitted his brows together.

His eyes landed on you, gathering your stuff in a tote bag as best as you could, your left arm was not as trained as the right, he noticed.

“Hey!” he said, waving at you.

You nodded. “Would you help me?”

“Sure,” Peter opened the bag and you literally threw everything in.

“Thanks… how was your night?” you asked, dark circles around your eyes.

Peter shrugged, regretting it instantly as his muscles complained. “Nothing out of the ordinary. What about you?”

You sat down on the bed. “I feel weird, but okay I guess.”

“Are you walking home?”

“Nope, got to go see how work is doing and then I’ll go home.”

Peter nodded, well… this must be it then. “Percy is a cute dog, very well behaved.”

It made you smile, hence Peter did so too. “He is… thank you by the way, for checking on him and for coming by too. You didn’t have to but you did anyway.”

Peter felt a flush and warmth coming for his cheeks. “Nah, it’s nothing. As I said I owed you so it was the least I could do, really. I’m glad you are okay, sorry for the arm though.”

Peter smiled even if you couldn’t see.

“Well, it was fun to see the famous Spider-Man up close. No offense but hope this is the last time,”

“Ouch, no, yeah I get it, hope that too. Don’t get in trouble, okay?”

“You got it spidey.”

You looked at your feet and the whole mood in the room felt weird, so Peter knew this was his cue.

“I’m gonna go now, need a bit of rest after a long night. See you… well… yeah whatever, bye y/n.”

He heard you chuckle, Peter shook his head feeling a bit dumb, closing the door at his back he made his way out the hospital.

When he got back to May's, he came to the realization that he didn’t buy the bread nor the milk, May made sure to remind him.

“PETER!”

“I’m on it, May! Sorry!”

•••

Peter was late for his date, his date with Gwen. He fell asleep on the subway and now he had to swing all the way back to get her weekly bouquet.

The place where he always bought flowers was closed, mumbling obscenities as he crossed the street.

How funny was that only half a block down another flower shop was open.

He bought flowers only for Gwen and for May’s birthday, so he didn’t know much about them other than the classic red roses for his aunt and the colorful daisies for Gwen. His jaw almost hit the floor seeing the flowers on display, buckets of color and the smell so fresh and so sweet and so magical.

After a second of admiring the shop he went to the desk where a guy was wrapping pink roses for a woman. He gave him a lipped smile which Peter replied with a nod.

“How much for a small bouquet of daisies?”

The guy waved to the woman and put all his attention on Peter. “What kind?”

“Um.. normal? I don’t know.”

The guy looked at him funny. “We have pink daisies, african, chicory, fire wheel, gerberas, japanese…”

“Just the cheapest bouquet you can give me.”

Peter was late and he was not in the mood to know the kinds of flowers. He also forgot his wallet and now he had like ten dollars to survive the day.

“Okay…” the guy shook his head. “Y/n,”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat.

Suddenly you appeared from a door he hadn't noticed until now, cast still on, but you looked healthier.

“What?!”

“Price for a bouquet of daisies…”

“What kind?” you sounded exasperated.

“Cheap,” the guy said in a tone that made Peter want to roll his eyes.

You squinted at the guy and Peter almost laughed. “Umm… eight dollars.” You finally looked at Peter.

Peter felt naked without the mask, and even if it was a crazy idea that he would deny later on the day, he, deep inside, was hoping you’d recognize him.

“Uh, um yeah that’s okay.” Peter spoke, a little choked.

“What colors do you want?” you asked him.

“All of them?”

It made you smile. “Nice.”

And you disappeared through the door, Peter let out the trapped air in his lungs.

The guy was just staring at him weirdly. “cash or card?”

“Cash,”

“Of course.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, offended. “Whatever man, I don’t want anything, thanks.”

Peter came out of the store mad, upset, shocked and disappointed. Crossing the street he tried to look for another flower shop. He didn't care he was late anymore, Gwen was a priority and he shouldn’t feel this shitty prior to his date.

“Hey, hey… dude..”

He heard and looked over his shoulder, you were running towards him, a bouquet in hand, cheeks red and no coat on. Were you crazy or what?

Peter stopped and waved his hands to stop you.

“You forgot your flowers!” you said, a hue of vapor came out of your lips.

“I didn't pay for them,”

“I know,” you looked embarrassed. “Sorry about Jerry, he's a little bitch, here take them! They’re on the house.”

Peter’s eyes went from your eyes to the happy perky daisies on your hand.

“I will follow you around until you take them.” You grinned. “Go on.”

Peter with a little smirk on her lips, sighed. “Just because you have no coat on and it’s freezing… Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, have a nice day.”

Your smile made him feel funny inside. “Yeah you too.”

Pivoting on your post you made your way back, Peter stood there perched, waiting for you to get inside the shop again, his cheeks went fully red when you looked back at him and smiled.

“No,” he simply said, shaking his head making his way to see Gwen.

Part 2 - Part 3

162 notes · View notes

romirola · 1 year ago

Note

for the WIP game, lets seeee… can you tell us what inspired you most during the writing process, like maybe a certain song or Redacted video?

by the way I’ve got to tell you how much I admire you conviction I deeply envy your ability to have one WIP and fuckin knock that shit out the park my undiagnosed ADHD could literally not fathom it you beautiful mythical creature

-Lexi Sun ☀️

From this ask game!

@weightedblanketjoyfriend, thank you so much for this ask! It's always a joy to talk about fics, and to talk about the process of a fic!? You spoil me!! (And that's why you get a few short snippets!) Thank you for those kind words, but honestly, forcing myself to work on one WIP is less about conviction and more about my own sanity. It's too hard for me to keep all the plots in my head. I just gotta get my head down and focus on the one, or else I'll feel too pressured to make progress on everything and make progress on nothing, not to mention suck all the fun out of something I find to be so, so enjoyable. Onto my writing process for Balancing Act:

Most of my fics start with a bit of dialogue that I hear inside my head and really, really like. So much so, that I get obsessed with it. From there, I start to construct the immediate scene/context of that dialogue. Who said it? Why? To whom? What's happening to prompt that speech/situation? (Fun fact, I can point out the "starter" dialogue snippet of every fic I have written, because it just turns over and over and over again in my head before I even start drafting.) In the case of Balancing Act, the starter bit of dialogue was:

“It… It hurts!” they half-cried, half growled. Sharp teeth pushed up from out of their gums, shooting lightning bolts through their jowls. Angel sputtered and choked, overwhelmed with the onslaught of stretching and expanding every part of their body somehow experienced all at once. “Hurts bad… Make it stop! Please, I can’t…” They wrestled out of David’s arms, rolling over to the other corner of the bed. They teetered near the edge before toppling onto the ground in a wriggling heap. “Ahh!” David vaulted after them. “Angel!” He quickly ran to his whimpering mate. When David stepped to the side to reach Angel on the floor, he gasped sharply. An enormous black wolf lay sprawled out on the ground, awkwardly trying to balance on massive paws and twisting their sleek head in every direction to get a good look at their furry, beastly body.

Yeah, 9.9/10 times, my starter dialogue is hurt/comfort... Very predictable Romi behavior right there...

Eventually, a story starts to form around the moment, and I follow that story backwards and forewords. If I'm lucky, more "starter moments" form in my head and the connections between moments becomes clearer. For example, once I realized Angel struggled with a spontaneous shift, and that their instinctual confusion with experiencing the process would probably lead to the shift causing them immense pain, I also realized I'd love to see Angel thrive as alpha, which led to me to hear this little bit of dialogue:

Janelle’s smug grin faltered. She flinched away from Angel, her pegasus suddenly wanting to flee from the predator before her. “I…” “And say that breach happened in front of an unempowered human who decided to go hunting shifters for sport, trying to bring home a mythical pelt, thinking they’re going to be the one to show the world Bigfoot exists,” Angel pressed. “What then, if shifters were compromised? If bounties were put out on our heads by unempowered people who see shifters as animals? If shifters were hunted for sport, maybe legally, if the unempowered government were afraid of the half-monster things they'd fear you to be? Or, maybe instead, you want shifters all to be rounded up and caged like animals by some amatuer-wanna-biologists? Is that how you want to live? Trapped? Experimented on? Always tranqued out your mind? Kept as someone’s pet, with an electric collar to keep you on your best behavior?” Angel felt the wolf within howl and groan at the mere thought of the pack being subjected to such cruelty. <em>Pack. Protect. Threat. Shift. Shift now. Attack.</em> Their need to take down the pegasus and punish her for her insubordination was growing into a painful ache. How dare this woman be so cavalier about covert? Didn’t she understand the stakes? Didn’t she realize how brutally and power-hungry the unempowered part of society could be? Angel did.

Or sometimes, the moments are totally unrelated! And that's a fun part of the process, too, because it means I have to get creative to see how the moments lead into each other. For example one has nothing to do with alpha!Angel, but it wouldn't leave me alone until I figured out how to include it:

“Watch yourself,” Sweetheart warned though their yawn undercut the normal edge with which they spoke. “Because that cute little girl is going to grow up to be the strongest stealth anyone has ever seen.” They held out a threatening finger. “And if anyone tries to deter her from that path in any way, shape, or form, I'll rip their guts with my bare hands and cloak the evidence before they even knew they were missing organs.” Milo shuddered at the graphic imagery Sweetheart used. “Okay, okay.” He wiggled Sweetheart over so that they were tucked in close to his body, turned inward so that their head could rest on his chest. “I think someone is up way past their bedtime, and their exhaustion is once again making them a little bit too vengeful for their own good.” He brushed a hand across Sweetheart’s forehead, letting his fingers linger on their temple until Sweetheart's blinks began to slow. “You are so hot when you're violent,” he whispered softly enough so that only Sweetheart would hear. “I love you.”

It's the *moments*, Lexi! For me, the *moments* make the process. I am not one to draw inspiration from songs, though if there are any songs that you felt resonated with the fic, I would be very excited to hear your thoughts!

This was a long-winded answer to your question, so thank you for indulging me.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted fanfiction #redacted david #redacted davey #david shaw #redacted angel #redacted milo #milo greer #redacted sweetheart #thank you!#redacted power swap

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eloquent-vowel · 3 years ago

Note

I have had a few bucky x read fic ideas bouncing around in my head and i cant write! So here is one,

Sam find a person who stairs and doesnt talk a whole lot because they uses ✨telepathy ✨. So Sam think they would be a good fit for Bucky, but he doesn’t know they have that power he just thinks they are mute. Then there is a thing where the reader is telling Buck how it works and they if they have something to connect them together like an object *reader motions to dog tags* they can have an unbreakable mind link. Then they fall in love or something. This is dumb, thank you for coming to my TedTalk

Hey! Thank you so much for this request, it wasn't dumb at all. I really enjoyed writing this. I may have gotten a bit carried away, this may sit close to 4000 words but we vibe. I hope this is what you had in mind! Please enjoy! <3

Click here for my masterlist of other fics and check in my bio for requests if anyone wishes to ask!

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Bucky had been enjoying a moments peace, he loved working with Sam but sometimes all he wanted was to put his feet up, put on some vinyl and enjoy a good cup of coffee all while reading a brilliant book. He had been trying to get into Game of Thrones lately, on Sam’s insistence, and he had been enjoying it. With the crackles of Glenn Miller from the turntable he missed the clunky footsteps coming up the stairs.

The sight that greeted Sam needed to be photographed. Bucky was lounging back on his ‘old man armchair’ feet up, hair in a towel, in a bathrobe, coffee in hand and facemask on, this was definitely one for the family album.

At the sound of the phone shutter Bucky practically launched himself out of the chair.

“Oh, you are never gonna live this one down old boy, it’s going to haunt you.” Sam almost cackled evilly as he began to email the photo to himself- he had learnt the hard way that Bucky was very proficient at breaking phones.

“You better not upload that photo anywhere, Wilson, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Pfft, reputation, that’s funny.”

Bucky scoffed as he stood up, placing his book carefully on the side table, “Big scary super soldier, people hardly run-in fear from a guy in a bathrobe.”

“I disagree, a man in a bathrobe is definitely something you should run from. AH NOPE!” Sam jumped backwards, on top of a nearby chair, as Bucky lunged for the phone, towel turban falling off in the process. “You are not breaking this phone as well.”

“Fine. But you gotta promise not to post that anywhere.” Bucky huffed.

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

“As long as- “

“Oh no, I’m not doing anything for you.”

“Think of it as payment for the last phone you broke and insurance for this picture.”

There was silence for a moment as the two friends eyed each other up. Sam raised his eyebrows, Bucky’s eyes narrowed. It was an intense staring match between a guy in a bathrobe and a precariously balanced man. A clock ticked.

“Fine.” Bucky conceded. “What do you want?”

“For you to come to a meeting.”

“The families of Veterans ones?”

“Yeah.” Sam slowly started climbing down from the chair. “And before you get your old man pants in a twist, I’m not trying to force you to talk or anything, kinda.”

“Kinda?” Suspicion laced through Bucky’s voice.

“You know sign language, right?”

“Which kind?”

“American? I think?”

“Yeah, I know ASL, might be a bit rusty but I’m sure it still holds up. Why do you ask?”

Sam shifted slightly on his feet, “There’s this person, they come in every week and listen. I tried to talk to them, but they communicate through sign language, and I don’t have anyone there to talk with them.” He cast his eyes to the floor, “I feel bad. They were brave enough to come to the group only to basically be ignored ‘because we didn’t plan well enough.”

Bucky smiled, face mask crinkling around his smile lines, “You could have just asked me to Sam. You didn’t have to blackmail me into this, of course I’ll help. When’s the next meeting?”

“This evening. You gonna be ready or do you need some more ‘me’ time.”

Bucky simply chuckled at Sam’s teasing tone, patted his shoulder making sure to squeeze just a bit too hard before retreating to his room.

“I’ll be there, Wilson, and I will look so much younger than you!”

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It was frustrating to you, going along to these meetings and not being able to communicate. You could always speak into someone’s mind but all that usually accomplished was a very paranoid person. But just listening to other’s stories really helped the grief from losing someone so close to you. You related to most of the people there and even though they didn’t understand you a lot of the time, you were always made to feel welcome- with friendly pats on the back and the odd tissue thrown your way.

You bustled into the familiar building with a new sense of excitement as Sam had promised to bring a translator for you this week. It was finally time to say your thanks to some of the people there and finally let the group know about your brother, so that it wasn’t only you that remembered him.

You all but ran through the hallways until you caught sight of a familiar smiling man. Sam was facing you, talking animatedly to another man, the strangers back was to you. He was tall, broad shouldered and dressed in a vintage looking leather jacket and rather well fitted trousers. Now the debate was: does the tailoring make the ass, or does the ass make the tailoring. You were halfway through the arguments on either side when Sam shouting your name disrupted the intense debating in your mind. You blushed at being caught, then blushed some more when you caught sight of the stranger’s face. Twinkling blue eyes under a deep-set brow should have made him intimidating, but he was smiling, and his face was dazzling. There was an immediate fluttering in your stomach.

“Hey, I’m Bucky.” Dear lord even his voice was nice, what made you smile even more was the fact that he signed as he spoke. Well, Sam certainly knew how to pick them well. “Sam introduced me; said you wanted an interpreter.”

You nodded as you signed back, “Nice to meet you, thank you for helping out.”

“No problem, Sam has told me a bit about you.”

“Good things I hope.”

“Okay I recognise my own name, you two better not be conspiring against me.” Sam piped up, to be honest you had forgotten about him for a moment.

Bucky laughed, and it sent a little thrill down you, he really was adorable.

“No worries, Wilson, just letting them know all your dirty little secrets.”

“Right, you two get in there, before you make me sleep with one eye open.”

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You and Bucky caught each other’s eye, his eyes were twinkling with mischief, and you couldn’t help the smile that overtook you. You had a feeling that the two of you would get on just fine.

The meeting passed easily. Bucky translated your signs and you finally felt like you could actually take part in these meetings. Everyone listened intently when you spoke of your brother and when you had thanked the whole group for being so open to you a couple of people shed a tear. By the end of the meeting though you were tired and very accepting of Bucky’s offer to walk you home.

It was a lot of side glances and hidden smiles and you walked side by side. Drawn to each other under the moonlit sky, it was nice to just be in the presence of someone who had such a kind aura. You spent the walk trying to work up the confidence to sign something, anything but nothing came to mind and Bucky seemed quite content to just walk in comfortable silence.

You soon reached your home, you turned to Bucky with a smile on your face and signed,

“Thanks for today, Bucky. You were really helpful.”

“No problem.” He signed back,

You hesitated slightly before signing, “Would you be happy to have a coffee with me, tomorrow?”

Bucky went a little red in the face, and chuckled, “I would love to, I know a nice place, real cosy. I’ll text you the details.”

“You know how to text?”

“Hey! I get enough stick from Sam, don’t need you getting on my case too. I’ll have you know that I am very adaptable.”

“Sure, Sure.” You smiled at his flustered tone. “I’ll wait for your text then, have a good evening.”

“You too.”

The two of you stared slightly awkwardly at each other, neither wanting to be the first to turn around. You shuffled your feet away slowing, smiling awkwardly once more at Bucky before turning. You heard his footsteps start to fade away as you walked towards your home. You were but three steps to the door when a large figure in a hoodie slammed into you, you raised your arms instinctively to block them when you noticed your shoulder was lighter. The bastard had stolen your bag.

You immediately took chase, chasing around the corner you just walked down but they were fast, faster then you at least. As you rounded the corner you caught sight of Bucky walking ahead. The thief wouldn’t stand a change against him. Without a second thought you cast your thoughts towards Bucky,

“Bucky! Thief! My Bag! Behind you!”

You saw Bucky flinch slightly then turn bewildered, his eyes widening when he saw you hurting towards him, chasing the hooded figure. He caught on and launched after the thief as well, with barely any effort he knocked the thief to the ground, grabbed your bag and whipped out his phone to call the cops.

Well, that was hot.

You took your bag back, immediately checking that you brother’s lucky coin was in the zippy pocket, to your relief it was still there. You looked up to see Bucky staring at you with a very puzzled look on his face. You sighed before casting your thoughts to his head once more,

“I’ll explain later.”

Bucky let out a strange, decompressed noise of shock, it made you giggle. The two of you waited in silence until the police came and took the thief away. The police car had barely driven away when he turned to you.

“Did you just, talk in my head? Or did my conscious just suddenly get really loud.”

“I did. Hi. Sorry about that.”

He waved his hands dismissively. “Believe it or not, not the weirdest thing I’ve encountered.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.”

There was an awkward silence.

“So,” You started, resorting back to sign language, it felt less invasive, “Still down for coffee?”

Bucky smiled, “One hundred percent. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Bye Bucky. Thanks for getting my bag back.”

“No problem, see ya.”

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The coffee shop that Bucky invited you to, was tucked away, it was the kind of place that you would stumble over on accident. With a simple door and a big window out the front, that lead soft orange light filter out onto the alley. There was the faint sound of jazz leaking out of the building, you smirked. It was such an old fashioned place, of course this was where Bucky frequented.

The bell tinkled slightly as you entered the café, where you were greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods. You caught sight of Bucky’s broad shoulders sitting in the corner, and you made your way over to him, smiling at the barista as you passed.

As if sensing you, Bucky turned to smile and wave. He was dressed in casual clothes like last time, but this time his hair was loose around his shoulders. You smiled back before settling into the seat opposite him.

His hands moved hesitantly as he signed, “What would you like? I can recommend their hot chocolate, its very warming/”

“Hot chocolate it is.”

You could tell he wanted to ask you a million questions but to his credit he walked slowly to get the drinks, he even took his time carefully carrying the tray of drinks back to your table. He placed a delicious looking hot chocolate in front of you. You watched as he took a sip.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1-

“So,” Here we go, “What is it you can do, you can speak in peoples’ heads, can you,” He lowered his voice and leaned in, “Can you read people’s minds?”

You giggled slightly, his eyes were basically sparkling, he was definitely nerding out about this.

You set the hot chocolate down before casting your thoughts to his head, “I can speak in peoples heads relatively easily, it’s how I talk most of the time to people I know. I guess you could call it Telepathy.”

Bucky’s eyes were as wide as saucers, “So you can’t read thoughts, only… speak them?”

“I like to call it casting, makes me feel like a sorcerer. I can read thoughts, but it takes a lot of energy. I used to be able to talk with my brother from across the house. That usually requires some kind of connection.”

“Oh, so like a blood or family connection? Do you have to know the person very well?”

“That certainly helps but it’s not always necessary. If I have a personal object that belongs to that person, something I can hold and connect to them it isn’t hard to make a two-way connection. Especially if that person is willing to open their mind.”

Bucky seemed to be caught in thought for a second. “So, if I were to give you something of mine, we could both talk in our… heads?”

“Well yes, but Bucky we have only just met. Letting me into your head is a lot. I try not to pry but sometimes I’ve found that thoughts just burst through. Let’s get to know each other a before that happens.”

Bucky smiled at you before speaking and signing, “You’re right. Let’s get to know one another. I find you fascinating.”

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It happened on the fifth date. Bucky was just walking you home after a lovely dinner at a small Italian that he claimed he went to back in the 40s. Just outside your door, under the glow of a lamppost he turned to you and took a deep breath before speaking.

“I know this may be a lot, but I wanted to give you these.” He reached around his neck and pulled off something silver. You gasped slightly as he held out his dog tags, immaculately preserved after all these years.

“Are you sure, Bucky? This is a lot.”

“I know and if you aren’t comfortable with it then just let me know but I want to give them to you.”

“You know what this means Bucky?”

“Yeah, I know, I just figured that you’re already in my head all the time anyways, just can’t seem to get you out of it.”

“You cheeseball.” You smirked at him before taking the dog tags and placing them around your neck. You gripped the cold metal for a moment, concentrating on the man in front of you. Taking everything, you knew about him and stretching out a connection, like a hand reaching out to clasp another.

“Testing, Testing, Testing, one two, one two, can my Telepathic partner hear me?”

You laughed, “Yes I can Bucky, you big dork.”

Bucky whooped out loud before sweeping you up in a big hug. The two of you laughing under the lamp light. His joy was infectious, and you couldn’t fight the smile off your face.

“Oh, we are going to have so much fun messing with Sam.”

“You’re evil.”

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Of course, the two of you made a pact not to tell Sam until he worked it out, which wouldn’t be anytime soon according to Bucky. It led to some very memorable moments and Sam refusing to play any form of card or board game with either of you because you always managed to win, somehow. Not to mention all the times you had spoken in eery unison around him.

“I swear, its like you two can read each other’s minds sometimes.” Sam threw his hands up in frustration at another lost game of charades.

You smirked at Bucky across the room, “Should you tell him, or shall I?”

“I think he’s been through enough, I got it.”

Bucky cleared his throat, “We can.”

Sam whipped around to face Bucky, a look of sheer disbelief on his face, “Seriously Bucky-boy, if you think I believe that after all-

“Hello Sam.” You cast your thoughts to him, in the creepiest old lady voice you could muster.

Sam yelped, before turning accusingly at you, “You better be joking around with me right now, I am not dealing with any kind of ghosts in this house.”

“Sorry! Surprise I’m telepathic!”

“You’re serious.”

You nodded.

Sam put his head in his hands and sighed, “Not the weirdest thing ever. Wait, does this mean you have been cheating this entire time.”

You both looked guiltily at one another.

“You owe me. That poker night, void.”

You both laughed, “We’ll have a fair rematch this time Sam.”

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It had been close to a year since you had made it official with Bucky and you were now much more comfortable around one another. He no longer just dropped you off at the lamppost but cam inside with you. You had spent many lovely mornings together sharing glances over steaming cups of coffee. Fighting each other for who got to spread their legs out on the couch, there wasn’t really a loser though as it usually ended up in sofa cuddles for both of you, while watching a film.

Life was pretty great, you thought, as you smiled down at the sleeping Bucky beside you. Finally reaching over to turn off the lamp and put your book down, you were finally reading the hobbit at Bucky’s insistence. As you clicked off the light beside you and settled down you noticed the faster than usual breathing coming from beside you.

“Bucky?”

You reached out, thinking he was awake but instead as you opened up your connection you caught flashes of night terrors. You were falling indefinitely, snow all around you, and in the distance, there were cries of pain, people pleading for their lives, there was gunfire and explosions. You gasped and took off the dog tags. You only gave yourself a moment to breathe before trying to shake Bucky awake. When it became clear that he wasn’t stirring you steadied yourself and settled your hands on his temples. You didn’t care you tired this would make you, you just wanted Bucky to stop suffering. You focused, offering out that hand of connection again, this time picturing it in the shape of a fist and, although it wasn’t subtle, you tried to shake Bucky’s brain awake. You forced your way into his dreams, punching through the dark fog that clouded his thoughts and almost screamed at him.

“Bucky! Bucky wake up! You’re dreaming my dear!”

Bucky woke up with a start. Tears flowing down his face, he stared at you blue eyes shining. No one spoke as he pulled you into his arms. You just breathed together for a moment, counting the breaths and the spaces in between. When he finally pulled back, you saw his eyes flicker with concern before lifting a hand to gently wipe under your nose, it came back red with blood.

“You, okay?”

You smiled sadly, reaching out to put the dog tags back on.

“I should be asking you that.”

“But you’re bleeding.”

“Occupational hazard.” You tried to subtly get rid of any of the extra blood. “That was pretty intense. Wanna talk?”

Bucky looked down to the sheets and shook his head. You smiled at him, tilting his head to yours.

“That’s fine, want me to go? Or would you like to cuddle for a bit?”

Bucky didn’t talk again, just pulled you gently down to the bed once more. Snuggling himself under your chin, resting his head on your chest. You felt his arms draw tightly against your waist. You pressed your lips into his hair.

“May I help you go to sleep? Keep the bad thoughts at bay for at least one night.”

You felt Bucky nod and let out a little sleepy hum of agreement. You closed your eyes, focused on your connection setting up a golden wall against the dark fog at the corners of his mind and settled into a deep sleep.

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You woke to the smell of fresh coffee and the clinking of cups.

“Morning.” You opened your eyes at Bucky’s voice and took the offered cup greedily. Your mind still felt hazy from the energy you used last night.

You felt the bed dip beside you as Bucky sat and sipped at his cup as well, hair a bit of a mess from bed. He had evidently only just woken up as well.

He took a breath, “I had some pretty interesting dreams, sweetheart.”

You stiffened, “Good ones I hope.”

“Don’t worry, they were good. If a little strange.”

“Strange?”

“I was watching myself most of the time.”

You snorted into the coffee, “Sounds creepy”

There was a slight chuckle, “Nah, I was watching myself build a home, a family- “

“Oh God Bucky.” You snapped your eyes to his, you knew what had happened. “I am so sorry my dreams must have stuck in your head.”

“Those were your dreams?”

“Yeah, its only happened once before but when the connection between two people is very strong, it can happen- I call it bleeding. Perhaps we should- “

“If the next words out of your mouth are take a break, I will spill your coffee.” You clutched your cup closer to your chest, “Truthfully, those were some of the beset dreams I have every had. I really loved them.”

You looked back up at him, hesitantly “You did?”

“And I love you.”

“Huh

There was silence as you stared at him in shock. His face as nothing but adoration as the sunlight filtered over his face.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too.”

Coffee cups were cast aside as you both collided. Giggling and joking, radiating happiness as the two of you shared the sweetest kiss. Your feelings merging together, amplifying one another until they shone brighter than the sun.

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flyingfish1 · 2 years ago

Text

Robbie Thompson:

I think representation is invaluable. […] [I]f I’m gonna be personal about it, it’s also just important to me. My wife [Kalinda Vazquez] is a person of color, my mom is biracial, my grandfather immigrated from Mexico to here. And I don’t see them on the screen. I don’t see them. And when I do, they’re a horrible stereotype. And that’s horrible. No individual person should be made to feel that way. It’s just bad storytelling to me, because it’s not the world we live in. You walk down these halls and you’re going to see every single type of person, every single type of representation, to not have that in your story to me, is just bad storytelling. But also it’s just a shitty thing to do. […]

A movie like Moonlight is epic to me. It’s like a fucking Lawrence of Arabia scale in terms of, you’ve never seen that depicted before and done by people who really understand what that experience is. It’s an authentic representation. That’s why that movie connected with people, because people are finally getting to see either themselves, or, “Wow, I’ve never seen that story from that point of view.” […] If you can change one person’s point of view, or just as importantly if you can show someone, hey, you haven’t been deleted by culture, here’s you, here’s a version of you, it’s worth it. And it doesn’t always have to be a positive kind of version of it, it can be a complex depiction. […]

We had a Native American consult on one of the comic books for Marvel, it was a great experience. But people from diverse backgrounds should be writing these stories as well. They also shouldn’t be relegated to writing just the story about that perspective. People will say all the time, “I’d like to see more women writing female characters,” like I wrote Silk and people said, “Oh, I think a woman should write that.” Yeah, you’re right. But a woman should write Spider-Man. A woman should write Superman. A woman should write Batman. […]

Diversity is important, inclusion is more important. And making people realize like we can all tell these stories. It’s a bee in my bonnet, it’s a personal issue to me, but I think ultimately if you want to be good at your job as a writer, part of your job is to reflect the world we live in. And if the world you live in is completely homogenized, you gotta get out of your bubble if you really want to tell a story that’s gonna connect with more people.

-Nerds and Beyond interview, 2018

I’ve been rereading some older Robbie Thompson interviews – as you do, lol – and I came across this quote on diversity and representation and inclusion in media. It’s great: I’ve abridged it for tumblr but I recommend going through to the article and reading the whole answer (I'll include the link in a reblog), because he goes into more depth about diversity in the comics industry, about the impact characters can have on marginalized audiences, about writing complex female characters, and about building empathy through fiction.

What a mission statement, right?

The interview’s from 2018, so it’s well before he became the showrunner of The Winchesters of course, but my mind went to that show and to all the diverse characters who've been cast in it. I’m especially thinking about the character of Carlos, a Latino character written by a writer/showrunner who's of Mexican descent himself.

I’m glad he’s making this happen! I’m glad that – out of all the people who could theoretically have become the showrunner of this thing – it was him. I’m glad he’s a showrunner now, period. I bet he'll do good things.

#Robbie Thompson #media representation #spnwin #spn #The Winchesters #-adjacent anyway #I'm still not sure if I'm going to watch or not for unrelated reasons but if I do #Robbie Thompson will be a huge huge huge reason why #I don't want to generalize but I feel like maybe some of the fandom newbies don't really get the Thompson love #that a lot of the older fans have #and it's like *gestures* this! this is why!#anyway there's some other quotes from other interviews I might post later #but this one I thought was particularly nice #so I wanted to highlight it

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sortasirius · 4 years ago

Text

“Unity” and the Broken Boys

BOY Y’ALL BETTER SIT DOWN BECAUSE THIS IS AS LONG AS CAN BE AND I TOOK OFF WORK TOMORROW SO I’VE GOT TIME

This is....one of the best episodes in the show. Yeah, in all 325 of them, this is hands down one of the best.

First of all, stan Amara for clear skin.

That silent treatment babey, right out the gate with the Angst. Tbh Dean deserves it.

“Like I said, killing Amara, Jack dying...that’s the only way.”

“The only way. Our one shot. Our Last chance. You ever get tired of saying stuff like that?”

“We don’t have to like it, alright? But you and me, we gotta get it done.”

Amara is such a welcome energy in this whole episode. She’s warm and understanding, whip-smart and probably more powerful than Chuck. I love her.

Sam is a wonderful, understanding, loving dad. I love him eternally. He loves Jack so much, he’s trying so desperately to do what’s right for Jack but also what’s right for the world. Jack made this choice, but he can’t live with it. How do you support your child when their life is at stake?

“Come on man. Blindly following orders, lying to Amara, sending her to her death. Does any of this feel right to you??”

“It doesn’t matter how we feel! You know what? Stay. Stay. Someone has to be the grown up here.”

“Yeah well someone has to keep fighting for Jack!”

“He knows what he signed up for!”

“Last I checked, we don’t give up on family.”

“Jack’s not family.”

Y’all should have heard the noise I made. What a fucking line.

“I know how you feel about the kid, I care for him too, I do, but he’s not like you. He’s not like Cas. He’s just not.”

“I’m- I’m ready.”

You can see the regret, the heartbreak in Dean’s eyes. You can see how he wants to take those words back the moment he said them, and for Jack to hear them? It’s unthinkable.

Sam and Cas I’m just so fucking emo dude.

“Sam, you stayed behind to find another way huh? I woulda done the same.”

AMARA

First of all, LOVE this structure.

Amara and Chuck have such a fascinating dynamic. Rob and Emily do a great job (as they have all along) by clearly being siblings but...heightened. You can just tell they both exude power, and the other is the only one they consider an equal.

“You and Dean had that whole weird...thing.”

“That wasn’t you writing?”

“Ugh, not that part. Gross.”

What I took away from this is what I’ve suspected all along. They HAVE free will, just not total free will. Dean and Amara’s connection wasn’t Chuck, there are parts of the story he didn’t write. Obviously, this comes into play later.

I also have a hunch that Chuck doesn’t write romance. I also think that in particular will come into play.

“Balance. Something we’ve never tried before. Creation and destruction, light and dark, brother and sister united again, but on behalf of one world, this world. True balance. The way it was always meant to be. But you can’t. You only care about your pleasure, your story. Well, I guess that makes you the villain.”

“Villains get all the best lines.”

We see again and again this season, Chuck is irredeemable. He doesn’t care about the angels, he doesn’t care about the world, he doesn’t care about anything. He is a petulant toddler who has broken his toys. And when he realizes he’s trapped, he gets angry, he shouts and screams, completely at odds with Amara’s peace.

“You can’t hold me here forever.”

“I can hold you long enough.”

DEAN

Pain is the name of the game in this section homies. Because not only are we dealing with Dean’s pain, we’re also dealing with Jack’s. Jack says he understands why Cas and Sam mean more to Dean, but Dean clearly doesn’t, he, once again, wants to say more, but is stopped, still stopped by his fear: his fear of not beating Chuck.

Alright guys, gals, and non-binary pals. Let’s talk about Adam and Seraphina.

Adam. The first man. And Seraphina. The angel.

“My old lady. She’s the only one who could put up with me all these years.”

Yeah okay. Volume at 100 I get it lmao.

But also: Adam wants God dead not because he and Eve were kicked out of the Garden, but because he went after their sons. The theme of protecting the children strikes again.

“Killing God is your plan?”

“Yeah, Billie’s been giving us a hand but Sera and me, this is our baby.”

This juxtaposed directly with Dean’s own pain at what he has to do to kill Chuck, to gain his free will: the cost of his child.

Adam’s rib.

And who else might get his ribs hurt, only to be likely healed by an angel?

It’s fine, that’s fine. I’m fine with that.

“Jack, I don’t know how to explain it but, when I found out about Chuck, it’s like I wasn’t alive. Not really. You know like my whole life I’ve never been free, but like really free. But now? Now me and Sam, we got a shot at living a life, without all this crap on our backs. And that’s, that’s because of you. So, I want to say, I need to say...thank you, Jack. Thank you.”

I’m gonna have to do a separate post about just Dean in this episode, because there is so fucking much to talk about, but there are a couple of things that I think are important: Dean realizes how wrong he was, to say what he said. He knows that it’s not true, this is the way he’s always coped with loss, by pushing the person to be lost away, but for Jack to hear it? He can’t stand for that.

And:

Dean has finally pushed through the barrier. He won’t be quiet in the face of his doubts anymore. This is a breakthrough for him, and, of course, there are more to come.

SAM

Sam and Cas, my chaos duo.

The box, the inscription, the door.

Death’s library, filled with dead reapers.

And there it is. The Empty.

It tells Sam the plan, the plan for Billie to take God’s place. For everything to go back to the way it’s “supposed to be.”

This has always been the game, since season 13. This is the longest of long games.

Sam fuckin Winchester, lying his way out of a confrontation with the Empty like the legend that he is.

He comes back with a new purpose: to stop Billie’s plan, and here’s where we get to the heart of the episode and maybe the heart of the season.

“You hear that? Dean, brought to the edge of doubt. His sense of duty, his rage winning out in the end. And poor Sam, always gotta know everything. Can’t leave well enough alone. This is my ending, my real ending.”

The gun comes out, pointed at Sam.

Hmm...what did I say during 15x05? Oh yeah, this.

And:

Dean would never survive killing Sam, but he’s willing to do anything, anything to earn his freedom. His ending, where one brother kills the other and then kill himself.

Why, you might ask, did Sam not mention that the angels would be sent back to Heaven, why does he not mention Cas? I’ll tell you why, or rather, Becky will.

Plus, Dean looks back at Cas IMMEDIATELY when Sam says that, when he mentions Eileen, and THAT’S the first time he hesitates. He can’t lose Cas. But at the same time, he’s willing to do anything to have his freedom.

“Sam we don’t have a choice, Jack’s about to blow!”

“We always have a choice!”

You know me, just sitting here thinking about choice, the ability to choose, and how that translates to their free will.

And Sam...I don’t think there will ever be characters I love as much as these.

“I don’t care if Billie gets what she wants! I don’t man, I’d trade it all, I’d trade em all for Chuck. In a heartbeat!”

“What about me?”

“You’d trade me?”

“Chuck has to die. He has to! Otherwise he’ll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can’t live like that man, I can’t live like that, I won’t!”

“I know you feel like that right now, okay? I know you do, but you gotta trust me. My entire life, you’ve protected me. From Dad, from Lucifer, from everything. I didn’t always like it, you know? But it’s the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on. It’s the only thing I’ve ever known that was true. So please, put the gun away. Just put it away. We’ll figure it out, Dean, we’ll find another way, you and me. We always do.”

Okay I feel like this is going to be one of those scenes that I cry watching for years to come. Because fuck. After fifteen years they finally admit that not only did Dean protect Sam from Lucifer, but he protected him from John. John. On a par with Lucifer.

Dean and Sam have, for so many years, sacrificed themselves for the other. Dean’s demon deal, Sam and the trials, every season they have fought to see who can die the quickest for the other. But this? This is them fighting to stop the violence, to stop from killing the big bad. This is them growing, in our eyes, in real time. Sam has always been able to get through to Dean when no one else had a prayer, but for Dean to listen, for Dean to take his words to heart, to stop the hunt for Sam, for their family, that’s how you know they do have free will.

(Btw Chuck’s eye effect when he dusted Amara was sick as fuck but I’m emo for my boys so.)

Chuck knows it’s a loss, he knows that his story has, once again, been thwarted by the boys making their own choices. And he’s pissed, but in his anger, we get a bomb dropped on us.

“Spare me your contempt Castiel, the self-hating angel of Thursday. You know what every other version of you did after “gripping him tight and raising him from perdition”? They did what they were told. But not you. Not the one off the line with a crack in his chassis.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

Also, just worth bringing up this one as well:

Every Castiel pulled Dean out of Hell. Every one told him the same thing. And yet, immediately, with this Cas and this Dean, something was different. Because what has everyone seen about Cas, from the moment he met Dean?

And there’s our endgame people. Laid out on the line.

But we ain’t done yet, fam.

We’ve talked about the handprint, but you know:

So there you have it, our prep into the “monumental” 15x18. I have spec on that, of course, but I think a novel is long enough for this.

What to take away: Dean’s rage was always Chuck’s plan, they do have free will, their love for each other, for their family, is what will stop Chuck’s control, Death is about to come back with a vengeance, Cas’ deal is at play, and, most importantly, Castiel and Dean Winchester are a blind spot for Chuck, something he has never, not once, controlled.

#welcome to my essay lmao #supernatural #spn #spoilers #my meta #spn 15x17 #destiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #jack kline #castiel #amara #chuck shurley #lilly liveblogs supernatural

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eyes-talks-ocs · 2 years ago

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Tagged by @winterandwords !!!

Thank you for the tag. (And people please go check them out, since I created my writing blog I feel like I've been the lost shy puppy following them around haha. I love their blog so much 🖤)

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FIVE THINGS I NEVER TIRE OF WRITING!

Rules: list five things you never get tired of writing. It can be anything, tropes, character situations, themes - whatever brings you joy.

(let me know all of your secret self indulgence, haha).

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No.1: Contradictions.

My favorite characters I have, are nothing but a bucket of contradictions. Macaw, he's the brute with a nasty reputation and a sour attitude that will put you in the ground for looking at him wrong. But - he's gentle. He'll go out of his way to help or comfort random strangers or be a listening ear for someone. Just don't preemptently judge him before he speaks or initiates an interaction. That will determine how he treats you. Lucan, my DnD child. A genuinely kind and friendly guy who wants nothing more than to make the people around him happy. He's carefree and always in good spirits - yeah he's deeply traumatized with anxiety and guilt chewing at him in every silent moment he has. Before running into the current party he's traveling with, he was an honored member of a cult and by his hands, countless people were sacrificed to his gods. In any moment it's called for, he has no problem being brutal and unusually cruel to the point he scares himself by his own actions because he enjoys letting his frustration out a little too much.

No.2: I'll bring you down with me *insert crazy eyes*

Also a trait both Macaw and Lucan share. Just. A complete stupid disregard for their own life? I don't know what to call it. Both of them so jaded with their own actions of the past that it's led to both of them being reckless with no self preservation left to care. Will sink a ship with them on it just to make a point. Will burn a building to the ground with them in it just to watch their enemies burn with them. Fuck around, find out because I am no longer afraid of death and some days I welcome it. Definitely - hurt me so I can feel alive or else I'll do it myself.

No. 3: Symbolism, Symbolism, Symbolism.

Uff. Especially animal symbolism. But everything from the landscape to phrases, to little Easter eggs for myself when I go back through to reread things. It won't bother me if no one else picks up on them. I know they're there and what they mean. My mind works in weird ways and makes strange connections between things and you bet your sweet bippy it's littered throughout all the writing and art I create.

No. 4: Tragic Backstory.

I think that's enough said. I just. It just happens. I create characters just so I can hurt them I guess. Even the ones I make that WEREN'T supposed to be tragic somehow get a little bit of traumatic spice thrown in there. I mean. Look at Lucan. My goal wasn't to have a sad backstory player character. But a happy go lucky adventurer. Well after rolling stats and all that fun stuff I made a backstory that would fit his stats and abilities. Somehow that led to being a cult runaway? Now as the campaign has progressed more and more dark details have been added to his backstory to incorporate and fit into the DM's main storyline. But hey at least he's still a ball of sunshine to be around! (And my DM loves my character's story and every opportunity he gets, he goes ahead and throws a curve ball just to emotionally hurt my character too haha. Like the last one was a small fight with a Kenku and he used my DEAD FATHER'S VOICE to taunt me. Fuck that was something I wasn't expecting the DM to pull. I loved it.)

No. 5: EVERYONE IS BI.

Self projection. I know. I gotta keep reminding myself that not everybody is attracted to everybody. Ha. But reasoning for why basically all my characters are when I try to justify it ranges from: "This is DnD, how could anyone possibly be just straight?" to the dramatic "he's never been treated with compassion or has felt a soft loving touch. He'll bond with anyone who's willing to give him that." and everything in between.

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This tag is open to whoever wants to do it!!

#eyes talks #oc #social throwaways #dnd #dustin #lucan #original character #writing #original writing #writing tag #writblr #writing tropes #tag game

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ghoste-catte · 3 years ago

Note

I was curious what advice would you give to someone new to writing fics? I've been wanting to get back into it but haven't seriously written something since high school. I hope this isn't an annoying question or anything!

Not an annoying question at all! I'm just a little worried that I won't have terribly good or useful advice. To be honest, I also sort of stopped writing in earnest right as I finished high school, and didn't pick it back up until my late 20s. It's certainly an adjustment! But I think the few things that really helped me get back into writing fic as a hobby and something I spend quite a bit of time on would be:

Write for yourself first, then find your other motivations. My original inspiration in getting back into fic writing was that there just were not that many fics I liked for my favorite pairing, and I wanted more of them, and I especially wanted more with the tropes and characterizations I wanted to see. I think at the very core of anything you need that internal spark that drives you. At the same time, for me at least, if I just relied on my own drive, I would not get much done; I need some external guardrails. So having people send prompts, or writing for particular events, or writing stuff for friends really helps me to get my ass in gear and finish stuff. That may not be the perfect motivator for you, and that's fine! You just gotta figure out what is.

Be open to inspiration. Anything and everything can be spun out into a story with the right tweaking. Obviously stuff like music is a classic inspiration source, but I've also pulled ideas from poetry, from memes, from Reddit threads, from YouTube videos, from rambling conversations on Discord and from real life to make fics out of. So many times, someone will post a silly Twitter screencap, and I'll think, There's a fic in this. And a lot of the time, there is! Research is a wonderful thing, but so is serendipity. If you're out there actively looking for ideas, eventually one that you like will stumble past you.

Find your community. I can genuinely say I never would have finished more than one fic if I didn't have fandom friends to talk to about even stupid headcanons, to bounce ideas off of, and to encourage me (and to encourage them in turn!). Discord has been a godsend, and some of my closest online friends are people I met in the GaaLee discord server. As I've gotten more comfortable as a writer, I've also joined general writing servers and Reddit communities and have found them immensely helpful on both a motivational level (bingos, sprints, owe-me challenges) and on a craft level (plot workshopping and writing ethics and live grammar help). It's a lot easier to think about fic ideas and hash through problem moments when I have a constant stream of fandom-related chatter coming from the little people who live in my phone! Ao3 is an amazing website, and it's great as, well, an archive, but it isn't social media by design. If you want conversation and human connection and cheerleading, you've gotta forge out and find it.

Make it a habit ... If you want to produce anything longer than a couple hundred words, you really have to set aside time for it. And writing is just like knitting or dirt biking or painting little model figurines: the more you do it, the more easily it comes. When I was first getting back into the proper swing of things, I committed myself to 30 minutes of writing per week. Just 30 minutes. I didn't even hit that goal every week, but there were tons of weeks I got on a roll and went over that amount, and by the end of the year I'd written over 200,000 words. I used to spend an hour laboriously tip-tapping out 200 words, but now I can easily blow through 1k in a 50 minute sprint. It's all about training that muscle.

... But don't make it a chore. With fanfic, you aren't doing this as a job, and you aren't ultimately doing it for anyone other than you. That means you can take breaks when you need them, you can set deadlines and then fail to meet them, you can write stuff and then decide to never post it. When you start getting burnt out, when the practice loses the joy and energy, stop. There's no 'hustle' here. In our capitalist society we're so trained to push past our limits and keep going even when it hurts us, but the hobby you do for connection and relaxation and whatever else shouldn't be like that.

Ignore metrics. Sometimes stuff isn't gonna get hits, or kudos, or comments. There are some basic 'rules' as to the stuff that does and doesn't get traction, but every time you post something it's a roll of the dice. If you're focused on watching that kudos counter tick up, you will get bummed out fast. And any writer will tell you that the stuff you think is your best work will never be the stuff that gets the most accolades. So you have to find something else to give you a sense of success. For me, it's watching my wordcount go up in my stats and those occasional comments where someone has a lot to say and that one person who always leaves me a <3 emoji (and, shout out to @egregiousderp, having someone to have long one-on-one conversations with about the stuff that never made it to page).

Don't strive for perfection. It's really easy to want your first ever fic to be a complete showstopper, the best fic fandom has ever seen, hitting all the tropes and the ideas and the characterization that you just know fandom is missing and would be everyone's top favorite if only it was written. This is a trap. No one fic can be all things. Most people who want to write an epic as their very first venture will not see the end of that epic, because they haven't put in the practice hours to make something on that scale work. That's not to say you can't start out with a big, sprawling multichap, just don't expect it to be the greatest thing since sliced bread if you're just starting out, and be okay with abandoning it for greener pastures if you get to that point. Think of the first time someone makes a vase out of clay or bakes a loaf of bread. That's never their best vase or their best bread. If they keep up with it, they'll make more and better vases and loaves. Likewise, your first fic is probably not gonna be your best fic. See it for what it is: your launchpad.

You can't edit an empty page, but you can over-edit a full one. This kind of spins off of #7, but if the words aren't there, you can't fix them. Daydreams and headcanons are fantastic (and god, how many times have I wished for a speech-to-text engine that projected my falling asleep thoughts onto a Google doc for later perusal), but they aren't fic. If you want to write fic, you've gotta get comfortable with the idea of sloppy outlines and rough first drafts. You can't build a house without a frame and you can't build a man without a skeleton (I mean, you can, I guess, but he'd be one floppy man). The nice thing about fic is that it doesn't matter if that frame is structurally unsound or the skeleton has 18 too many bones, you can clean that up in the editing process. But you can't start hanging curtains and arranging furniture in something that doesn't even have walls. That's the process. But! Also know when to set down the editor's pen and say, "Okay, this is good enough for government work", and call it done. ("Done" doesn't have to mean "posted", but it does mean, "I'm done picking at this for now, and I'm gonna go write some more stuff".) Over-editing can make stuff seem laborious and forced, and it prevents you from actually improving. To continue belaboring the house metaphor, you can spend your whole life rearranging furniture in just one room, but the end result of that is a pretty narrow existence and a room with a lot of footprints and tracks in the carpet.

Write shit down. When you have ideas, jot them down--in a notebook, in a Google Doc, in the Notes app of your phone, in pen on the back of your hand. You think you will remember that brilliant line of dialogue or sparkling snippet of narration or genius plot that came to you in a dream, but you Will Not. Write it down. Write it down. Write it down! There have been so many times when a fic was completely saved by past!me having written down my shower thoughts about what happens next in the fic, that present!me had completely forgotten about and was floundering over.

Have fun with it! Try different stuff. Try stupid stuff. Try experimental stuff. Do stuff you've never done before that you aren't sure will work. It's important to get comfortable with your niche (for example, I know I'm never going to be the sort of person who writes intricate plots of intrigue or super long 100k epics or detailed battles), but you can't find that niche unless you explore lots of different niches! Figure out what you love and what you absolutely hate, and then keep doing the stuff you love.

Okay, so that was actually TEN things, but ... I hope you still found this helpful. Feel free to send another ask if any of this was confusing or unclear. Good luck with your fic writing and, if you want, send me a link to what you've written once you've written it! I'd love to read it.

#answered #anonymous #writing advice #i guess?#am i qualified to give this?#no #but im doing it anyway

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gardenerian · 3 years ago

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Mel, I've noticed you've mentioned your abundance of feelings re: Monica a few times, but I don't know if I've read them (outside some thoughts in your tags). If you feel like sharing, I'd love to read your thoughts and feelings on Monica.

okay alright sure, feeling very normal about putting this into words, not nervous at all totally confident okay yeah here are my thoughts -

first off, i gotta say that I’m biased. i freely and fully admit that. there is far more grace in my heart for monica than there is for frank because there’s a part of us that’s intimately connected. as such, this isn’t so much a meta post as it is me trying to verbalize some very visceral emotions 😬

what compels me most about monica, like what i find so tragic about her, is all the ✨ what if ✨ energy baked into her story. what if she’d crawled through anyone else’s window instead of frank’s? what if she left him, but not her children? what if she’d stayed in treatment for the long haul? what could she have been? what if her terrible fucking choices weren’t so readily enabled, what if she had a partner who supported her health, what if she loved herself and her children enough to commit to them? to commit to her own stability? or like... was she always going to be like that? i don’t know. we can’t know.

i firmly believe that two things can be true at once. monica was not a good parent. her illness did not cause this. ultimately, she probably should not have procreated. she made choice after choice that i would have fought against. but she was also a victim. she also suffered. she was so multidimensional, and it makes me absolutely insane when people write her off as just one thing. she was kind, but not when it mattered. she was selfish, but she loved so hard, even though that love was fleeting. she was warm, but she’d also burn them up. she was fun and so alive, but she valued fun and self-destruction more than her children.

the gallagher siblings have every right to resent her. she did not do right by them, and she let them down at every turn. i understand why fiona kicks at her, why lip pushes her away. i get why ian is so fucking scared of her. debbie and carl are absolutely traumatized by her. liam looks at her and asks who she is.... like, this is their reality. when you have children, you really forfeit the right to tank yourself. as a mother, she failed in every sense.

but as a character.... as a piece of a story..... as a story herself... i just think she’s something special. i can’t explain it. she’s important. she struggles and she suffers and she has such clear and specific experiences with this disorder that i can’t help but understand her. just a little bit. there are things that she does that make sense to me, just as there are things she does that make me want to shake her (this is true of every single character on this show, of course).

i have monicas in my family. i am very lucky that they are not my parent. but i completely understand what it is to want someone to chose you over their indulgences and self-destruction. to want them to try fucking harder, to put the work in. to crave them and want them, but to also fucking hate them and then hate yourself for wanting them. like there are moments with these people where i have to duck out and remind myself that they are not my future. but i still see them. in a way, maybe that’s what monica is for me too. like she is for ian. i don’t know. she terrifies me, but she’s fascinating.

#......and that's that #again this really isn't a meta post it's just me freaking out #so we don't have to pick this apart okay? thanks #mel answers #monica gallagher

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danceswithsporks · 2 years ago

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On the 9th day of Batchmas I have to all of yooouuu!!!

Siiiiickkknnneesss!!

Alrighty so my entire house has come down with the flu so writing has been difficult. But I figured I’d try just a small ficlet of some of our friends being sick. Hopefully it’s coherent and I hope y’all like it!!

Now this will take place in the universe I’ve built for my fic A Star Above the Rest! Some may be sneak peaks at future events, little glimpses into past events, or things I wanted to do but couldn’t work into the story! I hope you all enjoy them and Happy Holidays!

“It’s a simple case of the flu. Give her a week and she’ll be back to normal.” Kix sighed as he closed his medic bag. Standing he passed Echo a few stims of medication. “Give her these every 5 or so hours to help with symptoms, make sure she’s drinking fluids and eating.”

An exhausted cough came from Zirena as she watched Kix speak to Echo. She barely heard any of it though, everything sounded like rushing water and her head felt heavy. “Thank you, Kix.” She reached a limp hand up to him and hummed when he took it.

Kix dropped the medic personality and instead looked at her as a friend. “You need to stop pushing yourself so hard, Zee.”

Zirena whined softly. He’d given her the same look the last time she’d gotten sick. “Somuch” a yawn came from her as she snuggled into the bed. “To do.” Her eyes began to droop.

A sigh came from the medic as he pulled the blanket up and tucked her in. “That first dose is kicking in, she’ll probably fall asleep for a while.”

“Mmm, no I won’t.” Another yawn came from her with eyes closed. Within moments she was asleep.

“Sure, Commander.” Kix pulled a thermometer patch from his pocket and placed it on her neck. “If she spikes a fever, this’ll work to bring it down. But you should still uncover her and get her a cool rag.”

Tech nodded as he wrote the instructions down before beginning to do his own research. “We’ll keep you updated on how she’s feeling.”

Kix nodded and began to leave the Marauder that was currently parked in one of the hangars of the Resolute. “I’ll let you know when her stateroom is ready and the halls are cleared for her to be moved. You boys will have to quarantine with her until we’re sure you’re not sick as well. Can’t have an outbreak on the ship.”

“Surely we can’t catch it? Aren’t we created with super immune systems?” Crosshair would be damned if he had to be holed up with a bunch of suck clones and a Jedi.

“You’d think so, but the flu is always mutating and changing. At some point our immune systems will only be able to fight off so much.” After a moment of thought he pulled out his communicator and began to try and connect the call.

“Who are you calling?” Echo placed the stims on the bed above Zirena.

“Gotta let the Captain know she’s sick and in quarantine until further notice. Last thing we need is for him to go looking for her and get sick as well.” General Skywalker and Ahsoka were currently out on a mission. Rex was the one in charge. If he went down as well, that would leave the ship in someone like Five's hands. A thought that made him shiver.

“How bad is it, Kix?” The voice of the Captain crackled through the connection. Even on the ship it could be spotty. Zirena had contacted him to tell him that she wasn’t feeling well. Now he’d been waiting for an update.

“Sorry to tell ya, but it’s the flu. We’ll need to follow proper protocols.” A straight route to her room would need to be set up. The Marauder would need to be disinfected to the extreme. A lot would need to happen quickly.

Well that was something he didn’t want to hear. Do what you need to do.” Was all he could say. So much for spending time with her. “What about the Batch? Are they sick?”

“Thankfully no. But I think it best to quarantine them as well. Just to be on the safe side.” He raised an eyebrow to Crosshair who grumbled angrily.

“Makes sense. Let’s go ahead and get the other stateroom set up for them.” With Zirena already sick it wouldn’t make sense to quarantine them all together. “We can set the hall up for them to help take care of her, seeing as she got sick with them.”

“Sorry.” Was echoed by Echo and Wrecker.

“At least Omega was here so she’s safe.” Rex looked over his shoulder at the young clone in question. She was currently chasing BD around the track.

“My thoughts exactly. I’ll get everything set up, Sir.”

-*-

When Zirena finally came to, she easily recognized the new location. Her stateroom on the Resolute. A familiar and happy place for her. A noise came at the end of the bed and she smiled at BD. “Hey, Bud.” The little droid ran over to her and nuzzled into her chest. Pleased that she was awake.

“Glad to see you’re awake, Zee.” Echo smiled at his friend, already typing a message to Rex that she was awake.

“Echo, what are you doing here? You’re gonna get sick.” She sat up slowly, her head spinning but thankfully not as heavy feeling.

Echo stood up and brought a glass of water to her. “We'll, according to Kix. I’m the only one who can’t get sick. Seems this ‘upgrade’” he made finger quotations at the word. “Makes it so that I can’t get sick.” One of the few benefits of it.

Zirena hummed at the water before drinking it all in one go. The cold water felt so good on her throat. “Well that’s lucky. How are the others?” They must have been placed in a different room.

“Well…the only one showing symptoms so far is Cross. So…he’s pretty peeved.” A smirk played at the clones lips as he took the now empty glass. “You should see him. He’s all gunked up with snot pouring out of his nose and he’s all swollen and puffy. Pretty funny really.”

“Tell Wrecker to send me a picture.” Zirena chuckled before sighing softly. The large window of her room was open and she could see the distant outline of some planet. She had zero clue where they were. But it was quiet and calm and for that she was happy.

“Will do.” Pulling one of the stims from his pocket he held it up to her. “Time for your next dose.” When Zirena made a face and tried to cover herself back up with the blanket, Echo laughed. “Come on. The faster you get better the faster you can see the Captain.” That did it. Zirenas head quickly poked out from the blanket before she offered her arm to him.

“Is he worried?” Last thing they needed was for him to be stressed while in control of the ship. She was honestly surprised he wasn’t already in the room.

“Very and before you ask.” He took her arm gently and injected the stim. “He already tried coming in. Took Kix threatening to leave the ship in Omegas care if he also got sick for Rex to finally give up.”

This time she laughed loudly before breaking into a coughing fit. Echo was fast to refill her water before rubbing her back. “He can be pretty determined when he wants to be.” Taking the water, she sipped it carefully. A few coughs still escaping her. “He can’t even come in with his helmet on?”

Echo shook his head quickly. “Sorry. He could potentially carry the germs on his armor and pass it along that way. Besides, we all know he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

Scoffing, Zirena wiped her nose quickly. “Oh yeah. Because I’m the image of beauty right now.” Blowing her nose, she made sure to loudly do it in order to accentuate her words.

BD whistled reassuringly. ‘ I think you look great!’ To her. Earning a pat on the head.

“Mmm, I think you’re required to say that. But thanks bud.” A grumble came from her stomach and she let out a happy sigh. “Finally. My stomach isn't doing flips anymore.” Pleadingly, she looked to Echo. Her big green orbs begging for food.

Chuckling, he raised his hand and scomp to her. “Ok ok, don’t need to even ask. Let me go check on the others then I’ll grab some soup for you.”

A bright smile came from Zirena as she fell back into the bed. “Thank you, Echo! You’re my favorite!”

Echo chuckled as he opened the door to her room. “I know.”

-*-

Crosshair grumbled in annoyance as a stim was placed in his arm. “How the hell am I the only one who got sick?”

Tech, Hunter and Wrecker stood on the opposite side of the room watching Echo administer the medicine. He’d informed them all of how Zirena was doing before moving onto the sniper.

“That’s a good question, Cross. How are you the only one who got sick?” Echo raised an eyebrow as he checked Cross’s temperature.

“One of the most obvious ways would be close contact with the Commander.” Tech looked over the top of his datapad. “Very close.”

A booming laugh came from Wrecker as he caught onto what was being said. “Oh! He was playing tonsil tag with her!”

Echo stifled a laugh as he passed Cross some water. There was no way that happened, right?

“As much as I’m sure she’d love the taste of a real man. That’s not what happened.” He knew exactly what happened and it pissed him off more.

Hunter raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms. “So what happened?”

An annoyed sigh came from Cross before he blew his nose loudly. He felt like he’d been hit by a speeder…or ten. “Went to check on her and she sneezed in my face.”

Now that didn’t sound exactly like her. “Think ya may have missed a few details.”

“I might have made a comment about how crappy she looked.” She did. She looked completely run down with snot coming out of her nose. He wasn’t gonna lie to her.

The group collectively groaned loudly as they listened. Well of course she’d sneeze on him for something like that!

“Sorry, Cross. But you definitely deserved that.” One day the sniper would learn to stop being rude to Zirena. But it seemed that wouldn’t be anytime soon.

Cross coughed loudly before laying deeper into his bed. “Shut up.”

#clone wars fic #clone wars oc #captain rex fic #captain rex x oc #fanfic update #fic update #clone wars fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #clone wars #star wars oc #bad batch #tbb echo #tbb omega #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #bd 1

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maxwell-grant · 4 years ago

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Cass wouldn’t even begrudingly tolerate [the Black Bat], because she’s even less lenient than Bruce on killing and far more willing to throw down.' - THANK YOU for remembering that.

Cass is my favorite Batfam member, the only one really that I have an active interest in reading about. I'd be incredibly ignorant to not bring bring up such a crucial aspect of her characterization. And even if I didn't personally care for her, well, last thing I'd want is to be another source of frustration for Cass fans. Lord knows there's enough of those to go around.

mousebrass also asked: On that note, how do you imagine a meeting between Cass and the Shadow going?

Fair warning: This one took me 6 hours to write, and it became a hell of a lot longer than I imagined. I liked Cass a lot, but I never quite realized I had this many feelings regarding her until I was tasked with writing this, and a lot of things clicked for me regarding my plans for The Shadow thanks to this ask. @mousebrass, thank you. I mean it. I think I may have found something here I've spent years looking for. Hope you enjoy the post.

I'm thankful that this scenario is only really taking place in a hypothetical fanon where both characters can get a fair shot, because I wouldn't trust DC with this premise. I don't trust DC with either of them as is.

There's a lot of ways that this crossover could go on about taking place naturally, initially because Cass is already connected to some of Batman's pulpier elements, due to her connections to Lady Shiva and the League of Assassins, and one could connect Cass to Myra Reldon (who really should just be race swapped if ever brought back so she can stand out as the cool character she is, without the yellowface gimmick holding her back). There's two things I think are crucial to making the most of this idea, and the first of which has to do with the subject of killing. I usually don't like to come up with hypothetical team-ups for The Shadow that focus too much on the fact that he kills, because it's far from the most significant aspect of his character to focus on, much of it is written from a wrong understanding of the character, and it never amounts to anything other than perfunctory. But here, not only is it completely unavoidable to discuss, here there is actually a very, very substantial grounding as to why this has to be such a big part of the story.

The first and foremost thing that's gotta be established to everyone reading that doesn't know already is this: Cassandra Cain, more so than Batman, more so than any other DCU hero, has a tolerance towards murder lower than zero, and this is completely non-negotiable. She will throw herself on the path of an assault rifle to stop men trying to kill her from accidentally killing each other. The defining moment of her incredibly grim backstory is that she was trained from birth to be the world's greatest murderer, and her first kill traumatized her so badly that she has pivoted as far away from that as possible. I stress a lot that the Shadow should not be written as the trigger-happy maniac comics made him into and that the pulp version killed mostly to defend himself and others, generally left criminals to the police if possible, offered plenty of second-chances, had stories dedicated to the rehabilitation of criminals and so on, but none of this would matter to Cass.

Cass has literally chosen suicide over the prospect of living with murder on her hands time and time again, and The Shadow kills. When he kills, he does so without remorse, with unshakeable certainty. He hates death, he doesn't want lives to be at risk in the first place. But people will die if he doesn't do anything, and what he can do, what he exists to do, is turn the tools of evil against evil, and murder is the oldest tool of evil there is. He doesn't kill because a war scarred him, he doesn't kill because he's got a demon in his soul, he doesn't kill because he's mentally off balance, he doesn't kill because he's evil or sadistic or arrogant or anything of the sort. He kills because the men he fights chose death when they sought to harm innocents and fire guns at him. He kills because he is Death itself.

Regardless of how compassionate he is or can be, regardless of the fact that he's motivated by a desire to protect people, regardless of how justified he is, he is still dropping corpses and laughing maniacally doing so. Cass's real arch-enemy isn't Shiva or David Cain, it's Death, it's the thing that she's fundamentally most opposed to. And guess what The Shadow gets compared to often enough? Literally the very first line of the very first book where we get to see him, this is how we are introduced to him:

So the premise here is that we are taking a character who is defined by her fundamental opposition to death with every fiber of her being, who understands death on a level no other human being does, who is traumatized and hard-wired to detest death at all costs and to choose suicide over it, and asking her to team up with The Grim Reaper.

Even if he received the most abject lesson conceivable on the sheer wrongness of murder, even if he does put down the guns around Cass out of respect for her, he cannot protect his agents and others if he cannot shoot or kill those who try to harm them, and the protection of the agents is absolutely non-negotiable and not at all something he's willing to fuck around with by trying out gadget kung fu superhero alternatives. The Shadow has chosen to throw his life away for their sake time and time again, and no matter how appaling or disgusting Cass finds his deeds, even if he concedes that she's right and should be right on all accounts and that he is fundamentally a monster who has no right to judge others, he would not concede on his mission and he would make it very clear she would have to put him down violently to stop him from protecting others this way, and death has not stopped him before.

And to be upfront in case there's anyone who doubts it, Cass would kick The Shadow's ass, if they had to fight. She is the strongest fighter in the DCU, she lives and breathes fighting and combat in a way no one else does. And The Shadow's not one of those characters who is supposed to be invincible and the best at everything all the time always, he can and does lose fights and scrapes to people far less adept at it than Cass. He's a great fighter, obviously, he hauls bigger men than him through doors and was disabling people with Vulcan neck pinches decades before Spock, and he would definitely have an edge in other areas, but he's out of his league here. Frankly, I don't see The Shadow raising a finger against Cass unless she's been brainwashed into killing people by bad writing. Not because she's a woman, that doesn't really stop him from dealing with evil. But because, for one, she's practically a child compared to him age-wise. Two, he'd obviously know beforehand of her capabilities and how futile it would be to fight or even provoke her. And three, the Shadow's whole thing is knowing. The Shadow Knows and all that. Knowing comes with understanding.

He'd understand very quickly that there is no way someone this young could grow so quickly into the world's greatest fighter without horrific treatment that no one should ever be subjected to. He'd see the movements too practiced and quick, the self-control, the strength and speed far beyond even the trained warriors he's seen, the places where she's been scarred and is good at covering it up. Assuming he doesn't already know about her life story, any meeting between the two would lead to him very quickly figuring out that there's something much deeper about her opposition to killing than just moral reservations, something deeper than Bruce's own gun trauma.

Denny O'Neil's 2nd Batman and Shadow story was about The Shadow secretly helping Bruce overcome gun trauma, and Bruce rejecting The Shadow's intentions to hand him a gun. And to make it clear, people tend to assume that The Shadow only helps people for utilitarian reasons, which is not true as I've tried to demonstrate many times now. I don't want to convey that he would want to help Cass overcome her trauma just so she could be more efficient or something, absolutely no, he'd help her because he helps people in any way he can. I think a story with The Shadow and Cass might involve a similar premise, The Shadow understanding that she has been traumatized very deeply by death and refuses to accept it on any terms, trying to help her overcome it, only to learn that she does not want to "learn" anything she doesn't already know, that she has weaponized her trauma into a source of strength, and wishes nothing more than to help others with it.

And here's where we get to the part that allows the two to be on less antagonistic terms, because one thing that also very strongly defines Cass, at least the Cass I like reading most, is her stubborn, almost desperate need to believe in the best of people, that people can and will change for the better. Like The Shadow, her strength too is knowing, it's perception, the things that she knows about people that words cannot convey. Just as there are many things The Shadow would grow to understand about her that others would not, there would be many things that The Shadow would not be able to conceal from her. Things that no one but her would figure out. Things that, despite her age and lack of experience compared to him, he would have to defer to her knowledge on, which reverses the usual dynamic The Shadow has with people. And perhaps one aspect of that reversal, it's that maybe it's she who winds up secretly manipulating The Shadow into overcoming a deeper issue.

Cass's perspective on killing is shaped not just through trauma, but from a painfully intimate understanding of not just what happens to someone at the time of death, but the cost of murder upon the human soul, the ways it warps people into things they never should have been. Killing is a deeply, deeply serious matter, much more so than fiction seems ever willing to go into. Of course we suspend disbelief for fiction, there's nothing wrong with that, but if a story starts asking questions, starts poking holes into fantasies, they should not be disregarded.

And so it begs a question: How has it affected The Shadow? Is he really as remorseless as he appears to be? Is the fact that he's only killing evil people really of that much use? What's the cost of living as someone who has to know so much about so much evil in so many hearts? Knowledge never comes without price, and knowing evil is his tagline. When he enlists Harry Vincent, he makes it very clear that he has lost lives as he has saved them. From when is that regret coming from? What lives did he lose then? Is he saving people by damning his soul or merely prolonging the inevitable by piling corpses on another end of the scale?

If there's a character that could meaningfully start bringing these questions forth, who could ever truly get The Shadow to stop and reveal things to the audience he never would otherwise, maybe Cass could be that character. A girl who was raised to be a monster, who is treated as a monster and an aberration in-universe (and even outside of it), and turned that into a strength she uses to help others, who cares about everyone and refuses to let others be dehumanized as she was. Who better to know what lurks in the Shadow's heart?

Sometimes when I get an ask, I bullshit my way through infodump walls of text until I can structure it into something vaguely resembling a point. And sometimes, and I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes I get a very, very clear word on my mind related to it before I start writing, that almost seems to be a beacon pointing where I need to get to, and I work my way into getting there. Once you sent me an ask about crossing over The Shadow with Cassandra Cain, the word that came to mind the very second was Language.

It's an interesting relation the two have with language. Language is of course a very substantial part of Cass's character, who does not process language and linguistic development the way most people do, and instead reads body language to the point of superpower. Many stories revolve around Cass's relation to the concept of language, the help she may require from others in getting around things beyond her upbringing, and ways in which she has mastered beyond anyone's scope. Though she is mute, language is her power, what makes her what she is, and she is someone that Batman freely admits could kick his ass if she ever felt like it.

For The Shadow, language is also his power. He speaks all languages and connects allies all over the world, he is an expert ventriloquist, he is able to project his voice beyond what's physically possible, he can imitate voices perfectly to the point of being able to conduct group conversations single-handedly well enough to fool even the people whose voices he's imitating, much of his presence and terror and manipulation are done through his voice, arguably the very reason he exists in the first place is entirely because a radio actor's voice performance was so good and captivating that it tricked people into thinking the character was a real star and not just a glorified narrator. The man you cannot see, but only hear, the perfect hero for radio. And then of course the laugh, which I have a whole separate post on and which, in many ways, acts as a substitute for language in the novels. He uses the laugh so often as a substitute for statements or words, even to himself, that it's pretty much his own personal language. And language is at the core of how he deals with people, as he knows the right language to use to manipulate and move and help them. He knows what to promise, what to reveal, what to omit. He knows what to say, how to say it, when to say it. Language is the strings by which he puppeteers the world around him (and he can talk to animals, at least of one kind).

The Shadow and Cassandra Cain have mastered two different types of Language as throughly as anyone can possibly master them. The Shadow can talk a group of hardened criminals into killing themselves, Cassandra can punch a heart into stopping without killing it. The Shadow echoes his voice "through everywhere and nowhere at once" to whip crowds of thugs into frenzies, Cassandra outraces missiles and was tanking bullets as a child. The Shadow can lie and usurp lives so masterfully to fool even the families of those he's passing off as, Cassandra is a living lie detector who gleams inner conversations from miniscule reactions. The Shadow can speak every language known, Cassandra is the greatest master of the world's most universal language other than music. The two are supposedly human, but every now and then, something comes along to call that into question because of the things they can achieve. They cannot hide secrets from each other the way they do to everyone else. They are driven by a deep desire to help others, to make something out of the circumstances of their lives. To weaponize that which dictates they should be evil and monstrous into a relentless force of good.

Language is the root of understanding. And if nothing else, as impossible as a conciliation of their approaches to crimefighting may be, I think there could be an unique understanding between the two. Perhaps, and this is a bit crazier a concept but one that seems to be where I might have been heading towards all along, even Cassandra Cain finding a calling away from the frayed dynamics of the Batfamily, away from the Bat's looming presence, to become The Shadow's successor, swearing to uphold a mission of justice through non-lethal tactics while he stays on the backseat guiding her. If The Shadow could trust the safety of his agents and the protection of the innocent at the hands of someone as capable and selfless and good-natured as Cassandra, I think he'd be all too happy to be able to trust someone in such a manner, to no longer be the Master of Darkness, but instead to serve the next generation that's weaponized darkness without submerging in it. To achieve, and perhaps return, to his strongest, highest self: A disembodied voice heard, but not seen. Once again the narrator, not the star.

It's a concept I've thought about very extensively for the years I've been a Shadow fan, but now it occurs to me that, if I had to appoint a successor of The Shadow, someone who could take up the mission but shine on their own right, even improve it with the right guidance and circumstances, it would be Cassandra Cain. The Orphan, The Shadow of the Batgirl. Daughter of the greatest assassins, meant to be the world's most lethal murderer, instead pivoted to being one of it's greatest heroes, but never allowed to shine as she should. But in the darker, less restrictive and wilder world of pulp heroes, in The Shadow's world, a beacon would shine all the harder. Perfect strengths attached to perfect opposites, joined together for a greater good, unstoppable after together having weaponized that which most take for granted: the power of language to move worlds.

#replies tag #pulp heroes #comic books #the shadow #cassandra cain #batgirl #i always had a feeling that a successor to the shadow should not be modeled on batman but someone within that range #i never quite found a character i would be happy with taking that role or a similar role #aw shit i just talked myself into a new favorite character #that just so happens to be another character brimming with potential that's denied them by corporate overlords #who could have seen that coming

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writtenbyevie · 2 years ago

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Hihi I’m nosy!! For the fic writer questions thing you reblogged: number 4 (about earth and moon), number 10, number 17, and number 27!!

Feel free to ignore any if you want to, I’m just very curious hehe big love you!!

jules!!! big love back to you and i’m booping your nose!! 💖💖💖

For the little details in earth and moon, my favorite is that Atsumu’s introduced in a mini chapter titled apollo (since he’s the sun to Osamu’s moon) and Kiyoomi is later described as having hyacinth curls.

In Greek mythology, Hyacinth and Apollo are lovers. So, that’s a little inside joke for me :)

Other little details include:

Rin comes home late in the final mini chapter because he got lost in the grocery store just like Osamu dreamed about. They then talk about hanging jerseys on his wall and slow dance to the song stuck in his head just like they fantasized about

Rui wears Star Wars pajamas when we first meet her. When she meets Motoya he is too

Osamu is constantly compared to the moon, “borrowing light and regifting it without the burn,” only to receive a bad burn at work

The (b)romance between Sato and Underwood

The first mini chapter in earth and moon is called afternoon eclipse (rin finds a moon at midday) the first chapter in sakuatsu’s story is called midnight dawn (because kiyoomi finds the sun in the middle of the night)

There are a ton more but those are the ones I thought of off the top of my head :)

10.

So I tend to create stories by taking a series of related images, lines, and ideas that I’ve had in my head and seeing what connects them. From there, I’ll take I’ll take those major concepts and try to fill in the gaps to create a story that I feel best expresses them if that makes sense? So I’ll draft out a basic outline, with room for revision, as well as select some major motifs and themes and go from there.

With earth and moon, I had several monologues and descriptions I had written at random that I felt fit sunaosa, as well as a series of images/scenes in my head. I took these things and combined them with my desire to write a sunaosa story that not only explored their relationship but it’s impact on their senses of self from when they met all the way through adulthood. I also thought about what I felt was missing from the existing canon (pun semi intended) of sunaosa stories and sought out to put it in my fic!

17.

So iwaoi will always be my first and forever loves. I have an idea for an AU that involves exploring oikawa’s origins as the demon king (there’s a twist I want to spoil but won’t unless I ever do write this), as well iwaizumi’s history as holy knight (in this universe he’d be a nephilium). It also involves shiratorizawa as demon hunters. I’ve always wanted to write it and daydream about it a lot. I love biblical imagery and metaphor so maybe one day!

27.

I don’t super know how to describe my writing process other than that I write almost every day. I don’t necessarily write A LOT every day (a good deal of the time I get caught up editing), but I try to sit in front of my computer at least once a day.

I have two notes on my phone. One for lyrics (I just started writing music!) and one for lines (both for scripts and fics). I try to write down ideas as they come to me. Sometimes they’re fully fleshed out. Other times they’re a vague idea of something and I’ll put in parentheses (develop this later)

I’m also someone who likes to write long form, so I’ll dump all of my ideas for one (mini) chapter and then go back and tighten it up later. I have a second doc for all my fics where I put all the lines I cut in case I want to use them for something later.

I’m also a fan of writing out all of the dialogue for a scene and then going back and adding action and description, just because I can over write both of those if I do them as I go. I love to wax poetic like the nerdy little lass I am, but ya gotta keep it in check.

I like writing to ambient sounds? Sometimes I write to music but I like using atmosphere instrumental music to set the vibes for whatever piece I’m writing.

I tend to write chronologically too. I really struggle to leave a section unfinished and move onto the next. So I’ll just stare at same paragraph for four hours until I get it Right™️.

The only other thing I can think of is that I like to write very rhythmically/musically. I tend to accidentally rhyme a lot. I find the pace of a piece very important and I feel like I have a fairly distinct style that relies on that. That and imagery. I love imagery and metaphor. I thoroughly enjoy creating visual throughlines, like in earth and moon I used different silver/gray imagery to represent Osamu and how Rin sees him. The gray, the storm, the moon. All introduced in the first chapter and used throughout.

anywho, that’s a bit of looksie into how I write! I hope that makes sense?

also thank you for all the queries jules I adore you and am kissing your forehead 💖

#I did not really proof read this so I hope this all makes a semblance of sense 🫠#jules!!#burning the trees #sunaosa #iwaoi #asks #writing #writeblr #ao3 #fic writing #evie’s jeevies

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theemptyskies · 4 years ago

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Real talk.

Note that this is all my own opinion.

In an Azula Redemption fic, in my opinion, she would not have to apologize for anything she did during the war to anyone. Not Aang for shooting him with lightning. Not Mai or Ty lee for imprisoning them. Not the Gaang for chasing them. The only one I might concede is targeting Katara during an Agni Kai.

What she probably should do, is apologize for the way she treated Mai, Ty lee and Zuko when they were children. If it takes place post smoke and shadow then she should apologize for what happened then as well.

She does not owe Ursa anything. While Ursa did love her, she very much neglected Azula which left her feeling that something was wrong with her. She has every right to never let Ursa in her life again. There is no argument that can be made against it. Azula's feelings are valid. She was neglected by her mother. Ursa's personal feelings don't matter. She may have loved her but I don't recall any instance where she actually told Azula that, or spent time with her, or showed even close to the same level of affection. Ursa did kiss her on the cheek the night she left, however I will point out that she woke up Zuko and made sure the last thing she said to him was basically I love you while she left Azula unconscious, unaware of the action. We never even see a scene where Ursa says "I love you" to her.

It's what makes the hallucinations so tragic at the end of season three. Those scenes can be read in a multitude of different ways. My reading of them, examining Ursa's relationship with Azula, noting that every interaction they had was shown to be confrontational, referencing "The Beach" where she did show that Ursa's relationship and abandonment did hurt her deeply, implying that she did want her affection, is this.

Ursa's neglect of Azula throughout her childhood caused Azula to develop feelings of inadequacy. This feeling pushed her to try as hard as possible to earn Ozai's affection, where she succeeded until he left her behind before the final attack in the Earth Kingdom. Coupled with Mai and Ty Lee's betrayal, this caused her feelings of inadequacy to resurface stronger than before. Everyone left her behind. Her mind conjured the image of Ursa, the origin of her feeling, saying "I love you Azula, I really do.", things we never saw her say.

I read these scenes as the hallucination saying things Azula always craved to hear. Affections that were always withheld from her, hammering away at her already fragile psyche. Reminding her repeatedly that she was never good enough for either of her parents.

So no. I don't think Azula ever needs to forgive Ursa or give her a chance and there isn't an argument that could be made to convince me. At most, I think Azula should confront her as the core of a majority of her trauma, similar to how Katara did with Yon Rah.

For me, an Azula redemption is about her coming to terms with her trauma. It's about her finding her place in a post war world. Her rebuilding her relationship with Zuko, the only family she was ever truly close with. It's about her seeing through the lies and manipulations implanted by Ozai from a young age. It's about her gaining a good, healthy support system that won't give up in her.

It's about her, in the end, finally finding peace, whatever that happens to mean for her in your particular fic. If it involves romance, that's great. A lot of people who make "shipping tier lists" rank almost every ship with Azula at the bottom, often saying things like "nobody deserves to deal with a relationship with Azula" which, as someone who grew up in an abusive household who also relates a lot to Azula, I gotta say it kind of hurts hearing people say those things. Everyone deserves love.

If your fic doesn't include romance and focuses on her familial relationships then that's also great. She definitely has a lot on her plate and building that healthy support system is an amazing route to take your fic, leading to a great heartfelt ending.

Please note, Azula's misdeeds should not be overlooked. Anyone you want to have her connect with, she will have to earn it. But I feel like it's important to understand why some people behave the way that they do. Not excuse thier actions, but to help map out how they can make up for them. That's why we were shown Zuko's tragic past while also seeing him burn down a village and threaten defenseless elderly people.

With the way she's portrayed, it easy to forget this powerful, intimidating character, is just a child. She's just 14 years old. It's something I think a lot of people who write off her character as irredeemable don't account for. Whenever I dig past her surface level "bad guy" traits with this in mind, admittedly, I'm often brought to tears. She's very much a product of her environment. It's because of that, that I think she can learn to be a better person.

To recap, an Azula redemption in no way shape or form NEEDS to include Azula trying to make the Gaang like her. It was war and every one of her actions during it have no bearing on her, from her perspective. If you want her to connect with them then you can, just don't be someone who talks bad about a redemption fic because she doesn't. 🙂

She did treat Zuko, Mai, and Ty lee very poorly as a friend and sibling. So she does owe them an apology and they are also under no obligation to give her another chance.

Ursa does not need to be forgiven, nor should it be portrayed that Ursa did nothing wrong. Azula's feelings are valid.

The core of a redemption fic (for me) is character growth, in this case for Azula.

Romance is ok in an Azula redemption fic. I personally enjoy Azutara fics where she helps Azula through her mental health recovery and trauma. Citadel is an interesting fic that takes place several years into Azula's stay in a mental institution. Here's a link if you wanna check it out. Keep in mind, it's nine years old so comic events aren't a thing 🙂 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6939866/1/5

Not having romance is equally ok. There are a multitude of great fics both post canon and AU that follow this route. Here is a fic recommendations for it. This one is an AU taking place during the war.

Her actions should not be excused because her story is a tragedy. She still did bad things.

Hopefully you all enjoyed my little ramble that I also hope is understandable. I tend to go off on tangents a lot. Considering it's 6:30 am where I'm at and I still haven't slept, this probably has horrible grammar and is likely riddled with typos. So I'm sorry about that bit lol 😅

#princess azula #azula deserves a happy ending #azula redemption #azula #this feels a bit ranty

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thebookreader12345 · 3 years ago

Text

750 Followers Celebration - Q&A

Thank you so much for supporting me through this journey! You guys don't know how much this means to me. Every single one of you is amazing.

Below the cut are my answers to the questions that you all submitted.

Q: Do you think Jay is going to become Sergeant this season? A: There has been a lot of debate over this question because of the past few seasons and all of the "Easter eggs", like the sergeant exam poster hanging in the background of the show. In my opinion, I do not believe Jay will become Sergeant. Yet. I think it won't be until the beginning of next season because, if this is a possible storyline, I would expect that the producers and writers would make the finale of season 9 about Voight stepping down/getting promoted, etc.

Q: Did Chicago Justice deserve more episodes? A: I'm sort of split with this question. I loved the fact that there was a big episode involving Kevin, and they always included people from Med, Fire, and PD in some of the episodes. However, the whole plot of the episodes was kind of slow because it wasn't like they were police officers and could go out and chase suspects and arrest people and what not. Their job was just to gather the evidence and then present it in court. I think for many, the show fell flat because there wasn't much action, and part of me does agree with that, but the whole idea of the show itself was kind of cool.

Q: What would make you stop watching each Chicago show? A: This is a tough question because I've only ever dropped one show that I can think of, and it was only because the plotline got really dumb. Maybe if some major characters died in each show I'd stop watching it? But then again, I love the One Chicago universe so much that I don't think even that would stop me from watching. So yeah. I really don't know.

Q: Do you believe in magic? A: As much as I would love for magic to be real, I don't believe it is. But I feel like everyone thinks that way. Cause lets be honest, Harry Potter and Disney make magic look so cool. However, we all know deep down somewhere that it's almost impossible for certain things to be real, and magic just so happens to be one of them.

Q: Are you superstitious? A: I'm not the most superstitious person out there, but I do somewhat follow a few superstitions. Whenever I find a penny on the ground with heads facing up, I pick it up because I believe I'll get good luck. Doing the whole "fingers crossed" thing is something I do a lot. I believe you shouldn't open an umbrella in the house or else you'll receive bad luck. Broken mirrors are bad omens. Those are the top 4 I believe in, but other than that, I'm not really too superstitious.

Q: Is your perception of yourself similar or the same to how others perceive you? A: I mean, I would hope so. I appreciate my level of smarts, and whenever my friends acknowledge them or compliment me on them it makes my day. However, with that, people think that I'm always only doing things to boost my intelligence. For example, I love to read. So whenever I say that I didn't do much over the weekend, people always assume that I read a bunch, when I really didn't. Or that I always study for tests or do homework like a week before it's do. That is not the case. But for the most part, I believe my perception of myself is the same as how other people perceive me.

Q: Who is your favorite couple on each One Chicago show? A: Okay, so for Med, there aren't really any couples at the moment besides Maggie and Ben, whom I love but they aren't my favorite, so I'm gonna pick a past couple. When I first started Med, Manstead was my prime ship, so I'll choose them. Will had been pining after Natalie for so long so I was glad when they finally got together. For Fire, it's gotta be Kelly and Stella. They were literally made for each other, and they support each other with everything. Also, they are so cute together and all of Firehouse 51 ships them as well! And for PD, while I do love Burzek, Upstead is my favorite ship at the moment. I've seen the connection between Hailey and Jay since season 5. You don't understand how angry I was in season 7 when Hailey was so close to confessing her feelings. So season 8 made me very happy when Jay and Hailey finally got together.

Q: Jay and Lindsey or Jay and Hailey? A: I respect everyone's opinions on this matter, so hopefully you all respect mine. I thought that Erin was almost toxic in a way for Jay. She continuously broke his heart when all he wanted to do was help him. But what really does it for me is that she left Chicago without telling him goodbye. Hailey, on the other hand, has pushed Jay to seek out help when he needed it, like when she recommended he take seeing a therapist seriously to help with his PTSD, and she is always there for him, no matter what. That's why I believe Hailey and Jay are the better pairing.

Q: Which character death got to you the most? A: There have been too many sad deaths in the One Chicago world. But if I had to pick one, I've gotta go with Otis on Chicago Fire. Otis was always one of my favorite characters, even way back when I watched Fire with my dad when it was first coming out. He was witty and funny, and his friendship with Cruz was everything. So, when I watched the episode where he died, I was full on balling. I had to pause the episode for 10 minutes because I couldn't stop.

Q: Who is your favorite character on each show and why? A: I'm gonna do favorite male and female character because I've got too many favorites from each show. On Med, my favorites are Will and Natalie. Will has been my favorite since day one, and I like that he will go out of his way to help patients, even if it means he could get in serious trouble. Natalie, even though she's not in the show, always pushes for the best of care for her patients, and whenever she dealt with kids it was always the sweetest thing. On Fire, I like Kelly and Sylvie. Kelly is so headstrong and driven, and he will do anything to protect the other members of Squad 3. Sylvie is such a hard worker and you can tell she is passionate about her job. I feel so bad that she's had to go through so many partners. On PD I love Jay and Hailey. Jay has not always been my favorite male character. Back when I watched the show for the first time, I adored Adam. However, I love that Jay has such good morals and is always pushing to do the right thing even when Voight disagreed. Now, it took a few episodes for me to warm up to Hailey, but after seeing her be so badass, it was hard not to like her.

Q: Where do you get inspiration for your stories?/How do you get inspiration when there's not a request? A: This question is always hard to answer because I really don't know. Most of the time I'm fulfilling requests sent in by you guys and I just write what comes to the top of my mind. If there are requests that are not requested and I come up with them on my own, chances are I saw the plot somewhere else, like in a book or show or movie, and I just tweaked it a bit to fit the One Chicago universe. Either that happens, or while I'm trying to fall asleep, I make up random scenarios in my head, and if I find one that I really like, I'll make a note of it on my phone so I don't forget it, and then I'll write about it.

Q: Do you think Brett and Casey are endgame? Why or why not? A: I'm gonna go with yes on this one. Now, Brettsey is not one of my top ships in the universe. However, they are cute together, and I've been expecting them to get together for a while. The two of them, even when Gabby was around, had a great relationship and always cared for each other. Plus, Matt jumped out of a firetruck to go help Sylvie when the ambulance flipped. He was willing to risk an injury just to make sure she was okay. And now that they are officially together in Chicago Fire, you can see that they really love and care for each other.

Q: What inspired you to start writing? A: I always seem to get this question whenever I do a q&a, but that's okay because I don't mind talking about it. I first got into stuff like this as a reader. Basically, I went on to Wattpad and Tumblr to read other people's stories. I had no intention of creating my own. And then, one day, I started imagining myself in some of the fandoms I was apart of, and I thought, "If I'm imagining myself in these fandoms, chances are others are too," and I began creating stories that followed the plots of movies and shows exactly, just adding Y/n in it. However, that got tiring after a while because I wasn't able to have much freedom because I was following a set script, and that's when I remembered I had a Tumblr account I never used. So, I revamped my account just a little bit and started posting story ideas I had that I couldn't post on Wattpad because either they didn't fit with the stories or they were for someone I didn't write for on Wattpad. And now, here we are. For anyone interested, I've posted this before but I'll post it again, my Wattpad handle is @Writer_Reader05.

Q: Jay or Will Halstead? A: I'm sorry, but I really can't choose between the two of them. I love them both so much. Will and Jay are two of my favorite characters in the whole One Chicago universe. While they do have some qualities that I'm not the fondest of, at the end of the day, I adore the both of them, and I could never choose between them.

Q: Who would you rather date: Jay or Will Halstead? A: Why do you guys do this to me? I love them both so much! But, if I have to choose, I'm gonna pick Jay. The only reason is because I like the characters in PD more than Med, so if I'm dating Jay, chances are I'm friends with Hailey and Adam and all of Intelligence. Will is just as awesome as Jay though and I feel like sometimes people sleep on that.

Q: Which of the requested fics you’ve written is your favorite? A: I think I'm gonna have to go with a Jay Halstead x reader I wrote titled Two Becomes Three. Something about the plot just makes me smile. And to think of Jay being a father......So yeah, while I have so many amazing requested fics thanks to you all, that one has to be one of my favorites.

Q: What’s your favorite series you’ve written so far? A: I love all of the series I have written. Something about creating a whole story that's more than just one part is always fun. If I have to pick one series, I'm gonna pick On the Loose. It was the first series I wrote on Tumblr and the plot of it is something I'm really proud of. However, From the Big Apple to the Windy City, Identity Loss, and Difference of Opinion are all amazing! The first two are finished series and the last one still has a few chapters left to go. Go check them out if you haven't already.

Q: What's your favorite imagine you've come up with and why? A: I don't have a lot of fics that are solely my ideas. Most of my stories have plots that were sent in by you all. However, if I had to pick a favorite out of my stories, it'd be Back Home for Christmas, a Halstead Sister fic I released when I was somewhat new to the platform. Something about writing sibling fics always makes me happy because I get to express the familial side to the characters.

Q: If you had to be roommates with 5 of your mutuals/fellow writers, who would you pick and why? A: I love all of my fellow writers/mutuals so much! I know how much work we put into whatever we post, and most of us are very active on this site. As for who I would pick to be my roommates, I'd choose @hereforhalstead @fighterkimburgess @halsteadlover @resanoona @sylviebrettsey because I feel like we'd all have great conversations, mainly over One Chicago. And every Wednesday night we'd all watch the episodes live together and experience them as a group and then freak out over what happened..........Now watch me fantasize about this all day.

Q: Do you listen to music when you write? A: It depends. On some days when I plan that I'm gonna write, then yes, I do put on some music. When there are days that I have a few minutes to spare, I don't put on music just because I'm only writing for a few minutes and I don't want to waste time. But mostly when I'm writing I do play music in the background.

Q: Do you know how your fics/stories end before you finish writing it? A: This is a really interesting question. The answer is no, I do not know how I'm gonna end a fic before I finish writing it. The only story I had a set ending for was my series On the Loose, but that one wasn't even fully planned out until I got a chapter or two in. Obviously, if I get a request that includes a set ending, like two characters get together or something like that, then I know what the ending will be. Otherwise, I have no clue.

Q: Have you ever met someone who had a very similar personality to your own? Did you get along? A: You know, I can't say that I have. Everyone is different in their own way, and that's what makes us all unique. I would imagine if I did meet someone with a similar personality we'd get along because we'd basically be a carbon copy of each other, but who knows. Maybe our similar personalities would cause us to clash.

Q: Do you hold yourself to higher standards than you hold others? A: Not really. I know myself more than anyone else so I know what my limits are and when I've reached them. With people, on the other hand, I always feel like they can be doing more with themselves and their lives. So I do not hold myself to higher standards than others.

Thank you to all of you who sent in questions! I never thought I'd reach 750 followers on this platform. The only reason I have is all thanks to you wonderful people out there!

@winterberryfox @maximeevansblog @scarletsoldierrr @i-like-sparkly-things @dreamingmanip @soph0864 @ryliegh8 @lorenakaspersen @wanniiieeee @nevertoofarfromivar @securityfriendly-jay @pinkbay-love @stephie123

#one chicago #q&a time #q&a session #question and answer #750 followers

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