#soul survivior | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stusbunker · 5 years ago

Text

Known: The Ending You Expected

A Supernatural DARK Fan-fiction

Featuring: MOC!Dean x Female Vessel OC, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Demon!Reader

Summary: Dean’s back and ready to set things right.

Warnings: Possession, restraints, angst.

Series Masterlist

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Soul Survivor Continued

“What the hell are we doing to him, Cas? I mean, even after I gave him all that blood, he still said he didn’t want to be cured, that he didn’t want to be human.” CC watched them from her perch against the table, the angel Castiel carefully listened to Sam’s worries.

“Well, I see his point. You know only humans can feel real joy, but also such profound pain. This is easier.” The silence loomed as they watched over Dean’s unconscious form.

CC sighed before disagreeing. “It’s really not though.” She stood, eyes remaining on Dean while her companions shared a look, uncertain with where her thoughts were heading. “He’s not in control even if he doesn’t have a moral compass. He was spiraling with Crowley.”

“Chloe?” Cas’s voice was deep and tentative.

She closed her eyes against his caution, exasperated with being treated as a threat. “Yeah?”

“You’re still possessed. How do you feel?”

“Like I got the shit kicked out of me? You? Borrowed grace as good as the real deal?”

Sam’s brows popped up at the jab, but he waited for Cas to answer.

“It will do. I’m just curious, how you’re—”

“Guys?” Sam’s voice broke their tense chat, quickly he unscrewed the flask of holy water. Dean was waking up again, after the last dose had knocked him out. He opened his eyes, which drained from ebony to their usual whites, pupils and irises all back in place. Chloe didn’t need to get confirmation from another holy bath, she could see that the demon had been turned. Dean’s essence filled his body, snug as last year’s bathing suit after the holidays. A smile of relief floated up to Sam, while Cas’s eyes remained squinted in apprehension.

“You look worried, fellas,” Dean quipped, his breath still ragged in his throat.

Sam tossed out the flask, coating his brother in the final test. When no one flinched, everyone let out their collective sigh of relief. “Welcome back, Dean.”

*^*

Chloe didn’t know what to do with the sudden calm that flooded her system. They had cured Dean, though the Mark remained silently mocking her from his forearm. A seemingly impossible outcome, especially as the fever spiked and he was more unconscious than awake. She settled in the library across from Sam, Castiel joining them with obvious reservation. Dean had taken a nosedive into his memory foam, barely having looked her in the eye. She hovered in the oasis of whiskey and an exhausted stupor, Sam keeping pace alongside her.

They talked quietly, the laughter bubbling up in spurts, as if the weeks between her latest possession and the days they worked in tandem to find Dean hadn’t happened. As if Sam wasn’t still down an arm and she hadn’t survived, everything she had. They both felt it coming, Cas’s eyes stayed on the polished wood as he spoke, breaking the small window of unquestioned triumph.

“Chloe, what happened after what Dean did—Do you know what you were doing?”

She raised her eyes and lolled her head from the angel to Sam and back to Cas in deep dramatic rolls. “For starters, it’s CC, which I’ve told you before. Why don’t you tell me how much you know about me, Cas?”

Cas’s gaze skirted to Sam and Sam shrugged.

“We know you’re not human.” Sam cleared his throat. “Uh, while you were comatose, I had Cas check you over and, well, he wasn’t sure—”

“You contain heavenly power, but you’re not an angel.” Cas squinted, again.

“And you’re asking if I know what I am or are you still trying to figure it out on your own?”

“Kinda both?” Sam huffed.

“And how can you be possessed? Is the demon biding her ti—”

“She’s in timeout, I needed to be the one to take Dean on. So, I tapped in. She’s not a threat, guys.”

Sam and Cas shared another look, Sam spun his tumbler between his finger and thumb on the smooth library table. The silence became deafening.

“Look, you guys don’t know what we’ve been through. What she’s been through to get him home. Like it or not, she’s not your enemy.”

“She tried to run me over with a truck.” Cas ignored CC while imploring Sam, whose cheeks were pink beneath his glazed eyes.

“Yeah, well, you took something from her, apparently. I can’t see everything, but she considers you a thief.” CC poured the end of the bottle into her glass, tossing it back before Sam could complain. “If the third degree is over, I’d like to crash. Man do I miss that bed.”

She ruffled Sam’s hair, which he half-heartedly dodged, before she shuffled down the hallway. The heavy stares weighing on her back until she could shake them off with a swift slam of her former bedroom door.

“Don’t, Cas,” Sam snipped, barely audible.

“You realize that one problem is solved, but at least another three remain?” Cas leaned across the table, resting his forearms against the tabletop. “Dean is no longer a demon, that’s true. But the Mark of Cain, that, he still has and sooner or later that’s gonna be an issue. Not to mention we have something that shouldn’t exist, containing powers she doesn’t understand in the blast range.”

“What are you saying Cas? That Dean’s the red button and CC’s the nuke?”

“I’m saying, that we need to eliminate all the threats before we truly celebrate.”

*^*

The next afternoon

Dean came to in his own bed, still clothed and with a vicious throbbing in his neck, knee and forearm. Thoughts and sensations melted into the haze of rebirth. He sat up, shaky and justifiably uncomfortable with himself. He went through the motions, showering and sauntering into the kitchen for coffee, despite having missed the breakfast hour by half a day. Someone had left out a plate of bacon from which Dean quickly pried the dried strips from the paper towels surrounding them; it was better than he could have hoped for. He licked his fingers of the salty grease when a poorly timed greeting from Cas broke into his quiet return to his creature comforts.

“Hello Dean.”

Dean closed his eyes before he turned around, holding the coffee mug in his hand as if it were a lifeline. “Mornin’.”

“It’s quarter to three.”

“It’s morning somewhere.”

“I am aware of time zones, Dean, however confusingly this country decides to divide them.”

Dean huffed in amusement; somethings managed to stay the same in his absence. “Hey, man, thanks for stepping in when you did. D’you see Sam? He want a divorce?”

“Sam knows that whatever you said and did, that, that wasn’t really you. It certainly wasn’t all you.”

“I tried to kill him Cas. I probably did kill CC, if she wasn’t still demon armor.”

“We need to talk about that.” Dean held his hand palm side up as he sipped his coffee, waiting, Cas bit his lips eyes heavy with the annoyance at Dean’s indifference. “She’s still possessed.”

Dean looked to the floor and weighed his thoughts with a bob of his head. “Kind of surprised you guys waited for me to come to.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Mind?” Dean’s brow furrowed. “I was ready to off the damned thing before my sulfur and eye job.” He gestured with his hand indicating all of his body. “Now that I’m restored to factory settings shouldn’t change what we do. Exorcize it. And while you’re still around, you can heal her.”

“It’s not that simple. She insists that the demon isn’t a threat.”

“And you think that’s CC talking? Demons lie, Cas. We’ve all been there.” Dean set his cup on the counter and walked toward Castiel, he corralled Cas into the hallway checking both directions before continuing. “What’d Sam say?”

“He just wanted to get drunk.”

Dean walked carefully toward CC’s room. “Yeah, well, can’t blame him there. She still around?”

Cas gave Dean his most annoyed glare before hissing at him. “Yes, Dean, we didn’t let the demon-possessed, hy-, woman, escape.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, unsure of what had made the angel trip over his words. With a curl of his bottom lip and absolutely no ceremony, Dean walked into CC’s room. And instantly froze.

*^*

Dean burst in with Castiel on his heels; all CC could think about was how much softer he looked. How very breakable he was. It was almost like everything had been a fever dream until she really looked at them. Watching their true colors bleed through, reluctant yet battle ready, a desaturated combination lining their faces.

“What the hell?! I mean, glad to have you back and all, but knock much?”

“I didn’t know he would just walk in,” Cas offered.

Dean pulled back. “I’m sorry, did you want to do this later? Got somewhere better to be?”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, Dean, exactly what are we doing?”

“Cas, go get Sam.”

“There’s something—”

“It’s fine, Castiel. Dean wants some alone time, he’s back from war after all.” CC watched Dean twitch and swallow against her tone. That mossy stare asked more than he could put to words. CC felt the impasse as she dropped down on the bed, her hand falling habitually over her knife while Dean strolled over to the desk chair. “What’s this all about?”

“Chloe, I-” Dean had settled backwards on the seat, forearms draped along the back. “What are you doing?”

“Besides arguing with your angel buddy and stopping you from putting some serious hardware through your brother’s skull?”

Dean wasn’t amused, though his concern shined brighter than his annoyance. “Why the hell are you still walking around like that? This is you I’m talking to, I can tell. So, tell me, why?”

“Did they tell you why they are so worried about me all of the sudden? Did that angel tell you what’s got his haunches up?” CC waited, seeing the easy smile slip on to Dean’s face.

“Because, you’re willing housing a demon, Cease!”

“No, it’s because I’m not even human, DEAN. Castiel and Sam are all up each other’s asses because I shouldn’t exist.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Hey, guys?” Sam’s greeting intruded around their stalemate. Dean rocked back down on to all four legs of the chair while Cas closed the bedroom door behind them.

“Get out.”

“Chloe, it’s for the best.” Sam failed diplomacy.

“Just slow your roll! What the hell do you mean, you’re not even human?”

“Cas thinks she some kind of hybrid.”

“Hybrid of what?”

“Human and, well, Angel,” Cas looked painfully at CC now, her anger tight in her jaw and her shame burning in her eyes. “But in a way I have never seen.”

“Your dad’s an angel?! Who?” Dean stood, pushing past the desk chair after CC who dove for the door. Sam had it covered before she could land three steps. Castiel’s hand heavy on her shoulder.

“Do you know who it was?”

“I don’t have a father!” CC shrieked at the ceiling through clenched teeth, her fists tight at her sides. She folded them over her chest, trying to hold herself together; barely stopping herself from throwing punches. “Just leave me alone, if I you don’t want me here, that’s fine; I’ll go. Just stop this, for your own sakes, stop asking.”

“Whoa-kay?” Dean held up his hands, watching Sam and Cas suspiciously until they backed away in the little space between them and the door. “Gonna try and not take that as a threat, Cease, but I’m gonna need you to trust us too.”

“How am I supposed to trust any of you?” CC stamped her feet at herself; her voice had cracked, revealing her soft underbelly to her sudden captors.

“Hey,” Dean’s voice dropped, “give and take, alright?”

“Dean—” Sam started, uncertain.

“It’ll be fine,” Dean snapped, not bothering to look back to his brother. “You gotta let us get that demon out of you, Cease. Let us send her packing and we’ll stop asking questions, alright?”

CC shook her head almost imperceptibly, her tears brimming in hot puddles, sloppy and uneven.

“Alright?” Dean asked Sam and Cas, his no-nonsense face demanding their allegiance.

Sam started the chant as CC sputtered. Dean stepped forward, catching her hands and folding them between their chests. Cas grabbed her from behind, arms tight around her waist, much like how he held back Dean the night before. She looked up into Dean’s eyes, pleading with him, “please, don’t. Not like this. Dean, please?!”

“Shhhh, it’s gonna be alright. She’ll be fine and you can be free.”

“Don’t do this to us, Dean. Please. No. I am saying no!”

Dean inhaled sharply, pinning CC’s face to his chest as Sam continued. Part of her wanted to keep him close, to be held and reassured, but that part burned away with her rage. The parts of her that wouldn’t be taken from again, not while she was in control and not while she had a voice to protest. She thrashed against Cas’s arms; her head fought Dean’s embrace.

“Get off of me!”

They were all thrown apart, sailing in all directions: Cas remained upright, but his arms were lax at his sides. Sam was rocked into the door, eyes searching for Dean, while Dean had whipped back, taking half the desktop on to the bed with him. CC stood before them with a golden aura hovering over her head and chest. As Sam started barking the final lines of the exorcism, her eyes popped open, bright amber pupils against a milky gray sclera.

“Sammy,” Dean warned.

CC dropped. Sam finished the chant as they circled her once more, cautious with the lack of the telltale black smoke. Cas grabbed Dean’s arm before he could reach CC, shaking his head up at Sam who loomed over their crouching forms.

“Chloe?” Cas asked gently.

“Where is she?” Muttering, CC sat up. Slowly groaning as if she had just been shaken from the depths of sleep.

“Cease?” Dean hitched off Cas’s grasp, falling to his knees. His hand cupped her jaw, pulling her face up for further inspection. “Hey now, you okay?”

“Nooooooo,” her voice broke out in a choked sob. “She’s gone and I don’t know what happened! Dean, what’d we do?!”

Sam whispered into Cas’s ear, on another planet from where Dean let Chloe wail on the floor. “Where’d it go?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Any guesses?”

Cas stared back at Sam; volumes of possibilities shared between them.

“What did you do?!” CC demanded from no one more than herself. She had reached hysteria; she lolled forward, resting her temple against the cool floor, shoving and kicking Dean away whenever he came too close.

*^*^*

June 5, 2014

The Bunker

Sam hadn’t left CC with you easily, but she wasn’t one to be swayed by his concern. She knew what stood inside the tiny Desi girl before her. Once the overprotective failed legacy of Azazel closed the false wall behind her, CC stormed forward, squaring her shoulders.

“Funny how demons can get into places they’re not supposed to. You. Crowley. Waltzing into one of the most secure buildings in the world as if you owned the place. He side-stepped Sam’s summons and made off with Dean like a thief in the night. Something tells me you could have come back at any time. Could have taken me while I was out cold. But you didn’t. You too scared? No, you were licking your wounds, huh, slut? Dean didn’t want you outside of me and now you are trying to get whatever you can?”

The wall of your invisible prison stopped you from reciprocating her words all over her face. Your eyes burned black and the snarl turned into a growl as you slammed into the wall in frustration. “You’re just bitter I fucked him better than you ever could.” You let out a rattling laugh, “Hell, Cease, would you have even gotten involved with a Winchester if I hadn’t started scratching that itch for you? Just when did you start caring about him as more than a fellow hunter? Huh? Ever wonder why?”

That shut her up.

But not for long. She thumbed the handle of her sheathed knife and peered down her nose at you. “How do I know you won’t kill me once you get him back?”

“You don’t. Just like I don’t know you won’t kill me once I bring him back.”

The moment dragged on, an out of body experience for you must have been something all together more uncomfortable for her.

“Just promise me one thing. When the time comes, you have to let me take back control. I can’t explain why, but… you owe me.”

Arguable. “And what time is that?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“So, you’re winging it?”

“No, you are.” She dropped in a single motion, knife already in hand to scratch the paint off the damp cement. The barrier instantly stopped humming and you felt fresh air fill your lungs. With a rushed exhale you left your current vessel for one with a little more fight in her.

*^*

October 22, 2014

An unforgiving place

It was almost pathetic how expected it was. The trip, however unconventional, was essentially a flight home. An assault of color and stratus; atmosphere, vegetable, mineral, ether, void and then the source: Hell. Your essence hummed and throbbed, falling back into place, atom by atom into your true shape. Long, lean and barbed, teeth and eyes sharp as you gathered yourself. Your feet were held in place, locked in the rotting debris of a vast cavern. Looking toward the ceiling, your insides swam and pitched, a thick smoke rolled through burning with purifying scents, just out of your grasp.

It was a lost-and-found agony, somehow made new. You pulled and pushed, kicking against the muck with all your strength. Yet you remained tethered by refuse, completely alone.

‘I guess that was the right time,’ you thought sardonically. CC had been threatened and still she tried to protect you. How had they done it? A part of you wanted to blame the angel, but you couldn’t make anything stick. Your thoughts swam with those last moments on Earth and just when you came to Dean’s face everything went dark.

*^*^*

The Bunker

CC passed out after they had put her through their tests, bitter tears drying alongside the unspoken accusations that loomed behind heavy eyes. She was clean: celestially flavored and now demon free. Their deep voices were kept low in the hallway, but even whispers carried at those octaves. The words that reached her fitful sleep were broken, monotone and foreign. The spells wafted through the Bunker, banishing and confusing all manner of creatures.

Sigils burned brightly as Sam and Dean worked to rekindle their protections.

“How did we miss this?”

“Well, Men of Letters’ fail safes were put in place decades before we showed up,” Sam explained. “I guess, we aren’t the only ones who work both sides of the aisle to meet an end.”

“Huh, still kind of annoying that Crowley could comeback whenever he wanted.”

“Well, King of Hell could have had something to do with his case.”

“But there was Gadreel.”

“And Cas, Dean. All beings that shouldn’t have been able to get in here without us. We were just oblivious, especially to those closest to us.”

“Yeah,” Dean huffed, dabbing his paintbrush back into the gummy concoction before spreading it out in overlapping arches. “Wait, are we going to have to formally invite Cas in each time now?”

“No, man, we’re just resetting them. Once he is invited back in, he’s clearance is reinstated, so to speak.”

“Got it.”

Sam watched his brother, pretending to be studying the next incantation. Dean hadn’t answered many questions since he’d been cured, especially involving his time with the demon and Chloe. Her possession and whatever depravity that had passed between them had forged another cross on his brother’s buckling back. Dean was where he was supposed to be, at Sam’s side, ready to face the next hurtle. Though it was clear that his thoughts were anywhere but. Sam swore to make coming back easy for Dean; forgoing the usual cycle of nonchalance and prodding that led to annoyance.

“What would you say to a road trip?”

*^*^*

Next Chapter: Off Key

#known series #dean winchester #moc!dean #demon!dean #dean x reader #dark fic #possession #dean winchester x demon!reader #dean x oc #soul survivior #spn s10 fic

40 notes · View notes

death2you · 2 years ago

Text

somebody liked one of my legion posts and well. honey im about to start thinking

#ive been playing around with the idea of killers and surviviors interacting and if its possible how would it work…#i wont get too into it because. theres a lot in my head but specifically im wondering if jeff and the legion recognize each other.#imagine how jeff feels seeing a group of teenagers he went to HS with now murdering him and the people around him every single game #like how would he feel?? and its not like the legion were a source of trauma for him actually they mustve at least developed a mutual #respect or whatever since jeff did the legion mural in the lodge #IDK >____< ive been thinking about it but its way too much for me to write down wnd try to explain now >__>#my memory is not good: i make a tag and immediately forget what i was talking about #anyway. yeah. looks up at you with my soulful eyes. do you care #95

0 notes

iremelwrites · 3 years ago

Text

I. The root of Alois’s issues is PTSD of early childhood abandonment trauma

Right off the bat, I want to say that Alois’s character is probably one of the most tragic portrayals of child abuse surviviors in modern media. I remember back in the early 2010s when the season just came out people were deeming Alois as bipolar or having a psychopathic disorder. Later on, the common headcanon for his mental state changes to BPD but you have to look at the root of it, and there you’ll find the childhood trauma of severe abandonment.

It’s an objective fact that a child’s primary need is to feel secure, safe, and cared for. This applies to both infancy and later childhood. In Alois’s case, it’s unknown which circumstances he was born into as an infant, because we first see him as an 8-9 year old, already an orphan. Honestly, judging by his and his brother’s behavior during his flashbacks, I’d say that their parents probably treated them fine, or at least didn’t deliberately harm them. Alois/Jim recalls that “after our parents died, the villagers turned their back on us”, meaning that he noticed the cruelty of the world AFTER becoming orphaned.

In childhood, he’s shown to be a lot more mentally stable than as a teenager. He does everything in his power to keep his brother safe, and he’s as rational as a child under stress from losing both parents can be. He loses his cool only after he finds out that the other villagers were hurting Luka. This is another layer of trauma because no 9 year old should be made responsible for the wellbeing of another child. A lot of teenage Alois’s tendencies which can be considered immature probably stem not from just the fact of the parental abandonment itself, but from being forced to take on responsibility that he simply couldn’t handle because he was a literal child.

Even though he wasn’t mentally ready for it, Alois handled that immense responsibility pretty well. During the flashbacks we see that the brothers have a place to live (probably their late parents’ house but still, some other villagers could have stolen the property or something if the brothers couldn’t defend it), are capable of stealing in order to survive, and are, despite their grim circumstances, in fairly good spirits. Alois’s “I wish they’d all just die” phrase seemed like a random heat-of-the-moment thought that he’d vocalized, and if he had known what price he’d have to pay in order for the villagers to die, I’m absolutely sure he would’ve never agreed.

That level of stress was most likely enough to leave PTSD, and the symptomatics of it are resemblant enough to Alois's behavior in the series. Particularly, I’d like to cite this: “People with PTSD of abandonment can have heightened emotional responses to abandonment triggers that are often considered insignificant by others.” Alois is often called a brat in the fandom, and his actions really can come off as that, but you have to keep in mind the circumstances which formed him as a person.

Susan Anderson, LCSW, defines several symptoms of abandonment PTSD. Below I listed several of them which manifest in our darling object of analysis.

Pervasive feelings of insecurity which leads to self-sabotaging relationships and long term goals. We can technically say that Alois’s goal wasn’t achieved because he was focused on receiving love from his butler and not getting revenge on Sebastian. This definitely seems like Claude’s version of the story, and my headcanon is that Claude disliked Alois so much because he expected him to act differently. During the forming of the contract, Alois was hellbent on attaining his goal and was kind of Ciel-like in that sense. That’s what attracted Claude to him (and to Ciel later on). But within the framework of my analysis, I’d say that Alois made the contract in his “survival mode” when it was either give your soul to a demon or wither away at the hands of the old earl. When Alois realized that his life was no longer constantly threatened, the “survival mode” switched off and the dam which held back all of his trauma broke.

Abandoholism — being attracted to the unavailable. Self-explanatory, plus I think that might be one of the reasons why he shuns Hannah during most of the season. She doesn’t disregard Alois’s feelings nor sees him as evil despite his actions and his mind can’t comprehend it so he responds with anger.

Diminished self-esteem which intensifies their need to support their ego strength with defense mechanisms protecting the narcissistically injured self from further rejection, criticism, or abandonment. Further exploring Alois’s “bratty” behavior, a cause for it can be his self-esteem, destroyed by the old earl. Alois feels the need to prove himself by throwing lavish parties, acting eccentric, harming Hannah, etc. Also, these habituated defenses are often maladaptive to their purpose in that they can create emotional tension and jeopardize emotional connections.

Emotional hijacking, in which the emotional brain takes over, leaving its victims feeling a complete loss of control over their own lives, at least momentarily. I think the best example of this is the OVA scene when Claude goes to put out the ablaze room but Alois begs him to stay so that he doesn’t burn. Claude is a demon, it’s physically impossible for him to get harmed by fire, but at the moment Alois is going through a flashback which causes him so much stress he isn’t able to think logically. Some may argue that his actions and thoughts generally lacked rational reason but I think that’s far from the truth and I’ll explain why in the second part of this essay

Part 2

Part 3

#alois trancy #black butler #kuroshitsuji #black butler 2 #kuroshitsuji 2 #black butler headcanons #black butler analysis #kuroshitsuji headcanons #alois trancy headcanons

116 notes · View notes

freshthoughts2020 · 2 years ago

Text

SOUL SURVIVIOR

8.5” x 6.5”

Jaevonn Harris

#dr doom #victor von doom #doctor doom #fantastic 4 #fantastic four #science #jeezy #young jeezy #soul survivor #tm101 #thug motivation 101 #marvel comics #Akon #konvict #konvict muzik

28 notes · View notes

ka-koala-art · 4 years ago

Text

nieven - simic hybrid, way of the cobalt soul monk, harper and last survivior of our dragon heist campaign. i loved playing her so much.

#dnd character art #dnd character #monk #simic hybrid #simic hybrid art #rpg character #rpg character art #oc #way of the cobalt soul #harpers

13 notes · View notes

oh-atlas · 5 years ago

Note

🎨 🍵 ✨ for three ya wanna talk abt >:3c

sweet i’m gunna do these with baldur, edamira, and sitara!

Is your OC artistic? Can they draw or paint or do they prefer another medium? Are they a writer or musician or do they do something else? Give us a quick rundown of what they can get creative with!

BALDUR can sew! he has very fine motor control and a way with embroidery. hell it’s how he remembers his wizard spells! they’re all embroidered on his coat!

EDAMIRA isn’t very artistic. Instead, her creativity is focused on science and studying the disease that’s ravaged her area.

SITARA is a dancer! She loves music and she loves moving her body and the way it feels. She’s very soft and likes ballet and ballroom dance. She dances a lot with her wife :)

Are there any rumors about your OC hanging around? Nasty ones or just good-humored? Got any gossip to share about them?

Servants in the Faustus household whisper about the adopted son sometimes. He takes his baths boiling, has sharp teeth and bites when angry. His eyes change color in the mirror and one someone blesses a god he succumbs to a fit of sneezes. The boy is a demon, they say. He couldn’t be, the parents reply, he’s our little angel.

EDAMIRA is a ghost in the town. The only survivior of Von Adelsburg’s, the former lords. Even after her keep was ransaked she lives with her cousin, trying to cure the plague before it runs its course through her last remaining family member. She is regularly see in the same outfit, dark gloves and plague doctor mask as well as a ragged yet still rich floral dress.

SITARA turns heads. Many people do not know that it is not Hala Tawfiq walking the streets once more but a soul even more ancient, the champion of the goddess of stars. Because of the unfortunante whole, dead war criminal part of the body she’s residing in, there’s a lot of rumors spinning around.

If your OC were a deity of some kind, what would they represent? What do they look like? How are they worshipped and what offerings would they expect? What are their places of worship like? Their followers? Their teachings?

BALDUR would represent mischief, trickery, and the arcane. He would look relatively similar, a young man’s body, the rumpled noble clothes with the signature embroidered cloak. The only change to his appearance would probably be sharper nails and a crown of thorns around his head. He would be worshipped by lightning candles and arcane rituals. Baldur is worshipped in the corners of cities, in the shadows of the society as patron to particularly rogues that dabble in the arcane.

EDAMIRA would represent disease and medicine. Her form would take a skeleton, with azaleas and dahlias blooming from the empty chest cavity and a black beaked mask covering her face. She would be worshipped by doctors as well as grave clerics. She prioritizes logic, life, and research.

SITARA would represent space; the backdrop of the stars. She would be worshipped in tandem with Etia.

20 oc asks / thank you!!

#baldur #sitara #these are CHUNKY questions and I got a little bit worn out at the end but #they all have VIBES #and honestly i can't picture sitara as a god because she's in love with one #it's canon that when she dies Etia makes a new constellation and that constellation is Sitara so she can join her in the stars :)#asks #ch: baldur #ch: sitara #edamira

4 notes · View notes

chaotictrashandroidangel · 2 years ago

Text

Someone's a something

After thought: mainstream sellout born with horns

Sometimes I find myself feeling trapped in a situation I had no intention of getting in.

When that happens I have to deal with it the best way I can.

Being in divinity modes of destruction desires fire so smoke sells a souls smelly salvation. #ganjagod

Mirror God's Gucci game and guess ghosts gifts in the spirit world where Satan smoked lucider as the lame ass alter ego that he was.

Egos are symbolic yet imaginary illusions that cause confusion.

Imposter identity consciousness idolizes its crisis to campaign soul structure & archetypal architecture awake enough for surviviors primal instincts to infect its own SELF.

At first, I wanted tori to just be Victoria around 23 then 24 hit 25 & a quarterly life crisis riot package came in the mail of which is a federal crime go restrict the residential flow of frequencies ramifications. #daisydoges #daisydialga #daisydumb for such strange change in being lame.

Alter ego/writers protagonist: daisy dialog strange OSG [orgin spirit gangster] bc Hayden Jace is Diablo necromangster her dice roll makes her lose a bet. She finds a stripper pole & plays with that prerogative.

#hotcouchpotato #alert #sofa #king #ruler #ygs

0 notes

shawnsjames · 8 years ago

Text

Shawn Reviews Netflix’s Jessica Jones

I came into with Netflix’s Jessica Jones expecting a top-notch detective show. With a great actress like Krysten Ritter starring in the lead, I thought I’d be seeing a strong intelligent heroine solving a series of mysteries filled with suspense and intrigue. Unfortunately, all I saw onscreen was another shallow SJW girl power program featuring a poorly developed heroine who is just onscreen to be a hapless evil victim of an evil Purple Pervert who symbolizes the Patriarchy.

In the comics Jessica Jones is supposed to be this hard-boiled detective in the vein of pulp fiction detectives like Mike Hammer, Michael Shayne and her Indie comics’ Max Alan Collins and Terry Beatty’s Ms Tree. Unfortunately, Brian Michael Bendis can’t craft a character with the depth and substance of Michael Tree. And thanks to Bendis’ poor character development of Jessica Jones in the comics, there isn’t much for the writers to work with in adapting a Jessica Jones program for Netflix.

While Ms. Tree was a strong, confident intelligent woman who solved cases using her wits and her detective skills, Jessica Jones is a by-the-numbers insecure basket case who’s personal life is just as much a shambles as her office. In the opening scene of the first episode we’re shown Jessica Jones working at Alias Investigations. While she does a voice-over her client argues with her over what she’s found out about an affair his girlfriend is having. When he attacks her, she tosses him through the window of her office/apartment door.

Boring.

When you look at the opening scene of Jessica Jones it’s a really weak opening to a show featuring a super-powered detective. And a textbook example of the weak writing on many of these Netflix shows. The big problem with Jessica Jones is that the writers don’t answer the most critical question a screenwriter has to ask before they start writing: WHY SHOULD WE CARE?

In that first episode I didn’t see a single reason to care about Jessica Jones. She had no personality. She had no “voice”. She didn’t have any character traits anyone could relate to or identify with. Outside of being a surly woman detective with super powers, she was a FLAT One-dimensional character with no personality and no soul. I kept looking for a reason to like her, but couldn’t find a single one due to the uninspired way she was written.

Along with her flat characterization the writers showed me more screenwriting mistakes a first-year student would make in writing that first episode. Instead of showing viewers what’s so special about a super-powered private investigator, they tell us about her in a voice-over. That doesn’t make for compelling Television. I really wanted to see Jessica using her super powers to get into places other people couldn’t, sharing information a network of connections like Matt Murdock and working on cases related to the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Unfortunately, the first episode did none of this. Instead of giving us a super-powered detective show worthy of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Jessica Jones was just another detective show, and a poor one at that. I’ve seen episodes of Rizzoli & Isles with better stories than what’s in an episode of Jessica Jones.

Over the course of that first episode where she’ s investigating the disappearance of a missing co-ed, Jessica meets Jeri Hogarth to talk shop, follows her chocolate fetish Luke Cage around, talks to Patsy Walker, has sex with Luke Cage, goes, Then she gets clues to the mysterious Purple Man who has the girl captive at a hotel. This makes Jessica freak out and make plans to go to Hong Kong. When she can’t get a ticket, she reluctantly goes to solve the case. Only to have the girl she saved kill her parents at the end of the episode. It’s supposed to be a plot twist, but it’s not one we can care about, because we have no reason to care about Jessica Jones.

For a detective show Jessica Jones has no mystery, no suspense, no intrigue. No twists and turns. Story often takes a backseat to the characters, and they’re just not compelling at all. Instead of giving us a mystery filled with twists and turns stuff just happens. And then we’re supposed to move on to the next episode looking for a reason to keep watching.

I’m about done after one episode.

Jessica Jones is supposed to be the super-powered detective. But instead of giving us a show about a creative, resourceful woman who uses her powers to find clues ordinary cops miss and solve crimes without a costume, we get a hapless perpetual victim who is being tormented by The Purple Man, a sexual deviant who enjoys controlling and humiliating women.

Good Gravy, that’s just so by the numbers it’s not funny.

The way I see it, using the Purple Man as Jessica’s nemesis is just a COP OUT so the writers don’t have to think about developing a real rogues gallery for her to take on. The Perverted Purple Man gives Jessica’s audience an easy bad guy to dislike, an easy opponent for her to beat and someone the feminists in the SJW audience can easily hate because he’s a…Man who humiliated her in the past and she wants to keep him from hurting her or other women.

I’m sorry, that’s not a good enough story for me. If Jessica Jones is supposed to be a super powered detective I want to see her matching wits with a series of formidable opponents, not some Purple Straw Man she can easily tear apart. As a writer of strong heroines, I know that heroines get more of a challenge fighting other women than they would a fighting man. And I know that women can find ways to humiliate another woman she HATES worse than a Perverted Purple Man could ever imagine.

But that doesn’t fit the SJW/Feminist narrative of the show and Brian Michael Bendis’ shallow foundations for Jessica’s character. In their eyes Only White (Well, Purple) men are evil. And by snapping the Purple Man’s neck she kills a misogynist from the evil White male Patriarchy.

Damn. Just Damn.

If Jessica Jones was actually thought out with some sort of depth or substance, she’d be facing off against a series of rogues who challenged her intelligence, creativity and resourcefulness the way Michael Tree did in the pages of Ms. Tree. While Ms. Tree’s primary nemesis was the Muerta organization that killed her man, she also took on both men and women who were just as dangerous when she was working cases. (Read the Abortion storyline to see this) What made readers respect Ms. Tree in the comics was the fact that she was a PROFESSIONAL who could go out and solve the toughest cases and outsmart mobsters, serial killers and rapists. Yeah, she usually wound up with a huge body count in every issue, but watching her stand toe-to-toe with those criminals and the best of male detectives at the end of the day is what made her a the badass Jessica Jones wishes she could be.

The big difference between Jessica Jones and Ms. Tree is that Jessica is a VICTIM and Ms. Tree is a SURVIVIOR. On the show Jessica is just there to take abuse from the Purple Man and never comes to a point where she takes her personal power back. We never see her develop the strength of character Ms. Tree did to stand up for herself and keep fighting as she took over her man’s detective agency and continued fighting his fight. As she survived, she overcame the mob and went on to become one of the best private investigators to ever grace a comic page.

I wanted to see Jessica Jones be that kind of survivor. But SJW Marvel gave us a character with none of that courage or conviction.

As a writer of strong heroines, I expected WAY more from Jessica Jones than was offered onscreen. I’ve written strong heroines with far more depth and substance than this mysteries like Isis: All About The Goddess, so I know It’s possible to write a super-powered mystery story filled with intrigue, suspense and plot twists that keep the audience compelled to find out who did the crime. And it’s possible to create an engaging heroine that the audience has a reason to like and care about. With all the money Marvel Studios spent on Jessica Jones, there’s no excuse for the absolutely horrible storytelling on this show.

I’m a big fan of Krysten Ritter. And I’ve loved her work since I saw her in Don’t Trust the B- in Apartment 23. And I believe an actress of her caliber deserves better than the amateur hour writing on Jessica Jones. Because those writers give her absolutely nothing to work with. She does her best, but there’s not much she can do with the garbage scripts she has to deal with.

youtube

#Jessica Jones #Marvel Jessica Jones #Netflix Jessica Jones #Luke Cage #Shawn James #Vlog

0 notes