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backpackingspace · 8 months

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the sacrificial lamb

A heartbeat of stillness, the horrific realization of just who was who. And who they were all trapped in a room with. Motion on all sides. Alana sliding back off to the side there was nothing she could do. Jack standing to his full height a roar on lips, the others drawing their guns. Hannibal nearly bouncing on the balls of his toes preparing.

And Will …Will through fever and sweat and hallucinations badly conscious and shaking, will let the pendulum fall. It would be a bloodbath, nobody would escape here alive. This strange room was converted into their tomb.

Will threw himself up, hardly knowing what he was going to do. Hardly able to stand but he moved fast. Alana was here, Beverly was here. He could not let Hannibal have his way which meant he could not let those bullets fly he he

Will wrapped his arms tight around Hannibal, moving fast enough that the biggest hunter could not kill him on the spot. And burrowed Into Hannibal's space. Embracing him, holding him close. Will buried his face in Hannibal's chest. He didn't want to see.

"Please" he whispered "Hanniabl don't"

Here were the facts:

Hannibal was the ripper

Hannibal was the copycat

Hannibal the cannibal had fed them all the evidence there would be nothing left (see. See)

Hannibal was undeniably in love with Will Graham.

There were 4 guns trained on Hannibal and Will was sure Hannibal would still win.

The Whole room froze on a pinnacle. Teetering one way rather than the other. Will could see Jack contemplating shooting Hannibal through will. Could feel the others horrifiedbaffledconfusion. Could feel how tense Hannibal was in his grip. An almost careful hand snaked its way into Will's hair. The hand clamped down and steadily pulled his head back and up, forcing eye contact.

Will did not shudder. He had already been shaking and how devastating was that realization that he felt steadier against Hannibal than he had in weeks, even with all that had happened. The heartbreak was plain on the good (hilarious) doctor's face.

"Even as you turn from me" Hannibal murmured , not taking his eyes off Will "you entreat me"

Will swallowed. Tried to think through the haze of the fever. He had to be careful here but he couldn't lie either. And only partially because Hannibal was sure to spot it. He forced himself to keep making eye contact even though it hurthurthurt. He licked his lips. And said

"Is this turning from you? I'm literally in your arms"

The other hand came up to trace Will's cheek. Eventually it cupped his face. Distantly Will heard everybody suck in a breath. He knew that Hannibal was in the perfect position to snap his neck. Will could barely feel it. Just as he had moments before on the screen still playing behind him. The irony was not lost on Will.

"You did that from them, not because you chose me"

"And if I did choose you?" Will bargained

There was a long pause. Will watched as Hannibal visibly came to a decision.

"Very well. Ask me properly"

Will fought back a grimace. This fucking bastard.

"Please" he sarcastically said, unable to help it. He batted his eyelashes and everything "don't kill them"

Hannibal looked amused of all things. That was probably good. Actually it was surprising Will hadn't ended up on Hannibal's table much earlier. He didn't know how not to be rude.

"I suppose I should have expected such behavior. We are all what we are. "

"I see what you are"

"Do you truly?"

"Most of it" Will admitted "I did as soon as they showed you. There's still prices missing"

"Clever boy" Hannibal praised.

The hand shifted from his face to his throat. He nudged Will, turning him to face the room. Will closed his eyes. Hannibal would want him to watch but not yet. Please not yet. He just need a few more seconds to pretend that none of this was happening. Hannibal tightened his grip around Will's throat. Will remembers the doctor's firm grasp as he moved his hands cupping Abigail's throat in much the same way, saving her life. and pulled him closer still, nestling Will Into himself. There was no room between them, they became one, they're boundaries fluid and Will had already been leaking.

"Now" Hannibal said. Will opened his eyes.

Hurtbafflemntcunfusionbetralanger hit Will all at once, washing through him. Satisfactionheartbreakanger sinking Into his skin like hooks from behind. Will knew he would pay dearly for this favor but if he could just keep everyone else alive.

Jack looked enraged. Will could barely look at Alana, the hurt oozing off her. The others a mix between seriously what the fuck and I fucking knew he was creep. Only Beverly looked steadily back. She had kept her gun raised. She looked Will in the eyes and gave him a little nod. She knew what he was doing. And that hurt more than anything.

"Ms. Katz" Hannibal directed "I would hate to waste good Will's manipulations. Put down the gun"

She hesitated , looked at Will again, and lowered the gun. And just like that the tension in the air deflated and Will knew Hannibal had won. Nobody would try anything. Will could see it clear as day. Clearer, given everything. Will had (potentially) saved their lives at the cost of a murder walking free and they could all see it. Deal with the devil indeed. But there was no going back now.

"No going back now dear Will" Hannibal breathed In his ear, echoing Will's thoughts. "Do not make the mistake that I will ever be content to let you go"

The hand tightened on Will's throat. He could breathe but only just. Everybody could see it.

"No more climbing walls" Will replied echoing Hannibal’s and Abigail's agreement from earlier. He felt hannibal's sharp smile against his face.

Hannibal took a step back, so Will took a step back. There would be no separating them now.

"I believe you are all familiar with this idea. Will will remain right here. And he will die quite painfully if any one tries to undo our lovely deal. "

The hand tightened again, and Will made a pained choked off sound, his face turning blue. Eventually he eased off seconds before Will passed out.

"Now I believe we will be trapped here for some time. Will will remain with me. And as a result the rest of you are alive. When we leave you may remain so, so long as you do not look for me. Shall we continue?"

The screen buzzed back to life. Everybody reluctantly turned towards it. Hannibal took another step backwards dragging Will with him. Carefully he slid down so that he was sitting against the door. Positioning Will so that he was draped in his lap. Only Beverly continued to keep her eyes trained on them, ignoring the screen completely.

"If your friend tries anything. Then I will kill her" Hannibal mouthed the words against Will's ear, they were for him alone.

"She won't" Will retorted

"And uncle Jack will have to go. He will never stop looking for us"

Will froze. His fingers twitched like he wanted to grasp onto Hannibal and never let go.

"If you kill him, I promise I will never lay a finger on the others, even if they come after me"

Will's laugh was a strangled broken thing

"meaning you'll just send others to do it in your steed"

Will felt Hannibal smile again, slow and slick and sharp.

"Clever boy" he practically purred "nonetheless those are your options. Let the others take their chances and kill Jack or I will take care of the inconvenience now"

"You promised."

"I did not, dear will. But I will promise now if you so like "

#hannibal #hannigram #characters watching the show #characters watching nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter #will graham #beverly katz #alana bloom #jack crawford #fic snippet #not sure when ill write more of this #so im not posting it on ao3 yet #but i wanted to share #@bixlasagna #i wrote a thing #the sacrificial lamb

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fuwaprince · 7 months

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I'm really sad guys. A lot of people aren't okay, like, most people I know are breaking down in tears today and I don't know why it's happening to all of us but :( we deserve better. We deserve resources and support and it feels like we're all passing around the same $20 and splitting the individual-sized meals we can afford. I'm sad... it's brutal to ask my friends to keep going knowing how hard it is to actually do that and how much it takes... but what can we do in the face of it all? Just play dead? I wouldn't want anybody to keep going through what they are knowing how horribly unjust and fucking wrong it is. I'm so sorry. I'm sad when my friends refer to themselves as sacrificed human beings. What cruel society tricked us into identifying as a sacrificial lamb? What cruel society says no you don't get to eat for the next two weeks but go to school anyway? This lady at school talked about starving because her financial aid hasn't come in yet and she isn't able to go to the store or even afford a ride. There are resources but then these resources don't pay out on the days we're told they will and we aren't given any explanation or dates unless we take the time to investigate and have the energy to demand what we're fucking owed. I can't believe this shit is the life we're living. Maybe it isn't everybody but damn why does it feel so fucking common. Why is it typical for me to see my friends in tears because they lack support and resources and they're isolated from anybody who cares? I don't mean to sound hopeless because I'm really not. I'm so hopeful that things aren't going to be like this forever and that things will be okay but I don't like knowing people are being wiped out of existence in the meantime or attempting to be. Somebody designed my corner of the world to be like this and somebody doesn't care about how horribly violent they're being. Somebody doesn't care about how not okay everyone is. And to slap us all in the face, tomorrow is "it's okay to not be okay day" at school. It's not okay. It's not okay. None of this is fine or tolerable. None of this is acceptable. We aren't content with not being okay. It isn't okay that we're all not okay. It's so fucking horribly WRONG. It's WRONG to not be okay when the source of why is so fucking... just... within somebody's fucking control!!!! When things can't be helped, it IS okay to not be okay. You can't help it!!! But THIS???? THE REASONS PEOPLE AREN'T OKAY TODAY CAN BE HELPED AND WE'RE TELLING THEM "IT'S OKAY"?!?!?! No it's not. It never will be. It never could be in a world that gives a shit about each other. In a caring world this shit wouldn't fucking happen. Somebody has to care enough to take care of this instead of looking in the other direction and lying that it's fine. I'm so sad. I'm angry. I'm really seriously ready to bitch into a megaphone in protest and not just that but sharpen my pitchfork and light my torch. No one will stand with me on that and I can't blame them for being too tired or too sick or too starved or just held hostage by the current conditions. It's easier to just pigeonhole and say things will be okay but how do you think things will end up okay??? How do you think change happens? It's never pretty or easy. If it was easy, somebody would've done it by now!!!!!!! That's what they say at least, that's what I've heard. It's disgusting. It's inhumane. I'm crying angry tears knowing how fucked up this is and tomorrow I'm supposed to go to school saying "it's okay!" to everybody who clearly isn't. I hate it

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mlfns · 2 months

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❛ He will never let us go. ❜ // for steffy

there was some TRUTH to what stiles said . but also stefan supposed that there was more to it than that , had he just had some semblance of control then stiles wouldn't be there right now , he'd be human , he'd be home , he'd be SAFE and the flickering return of his humanity couldn't have come at a worse point now . to care for something he'd created , to feel the protective need to keep him out of things and let himself take the BRUNT of what was to come , it felt like second nature , where he could act without having to put too much thought into it and he'd noticed it growing the longer they'd spent side by side . if he had just left stiles alone , if he had left him as a human , they wouldn't have needed to go to klaus , they would have both been out of his reach . he didn't want the younger vampire to turn out the same as he had . ❛ he'll let you go though . . . if he gets what he wants he could let you go , you could be far away from here , far away from ME . ❜ he replied carefully , putting thought into the words as they left his lips - it would be a lie to say he hadn't already considered it , throwing himself up to be the SACRIFICIAL lamb to let stiles go , to let him live without having him there as an influence . despite damon's flaws , perhaps he'd be more helpful , perhaps stiles could LIVE , could be controlled , could learn . ❛ i don't want you to go through this , i don't want you to stay here because of everything i've done . this isn't what i INTENDED to happen , none of this . ❜he reached for stiles' shoulders , kept a hold of them , their eyes meeting much the same as they had when he'd turned into what he was now . but somewhere along the way things had CHANGED , perhaps they were for the better , maybe it was for the WORST . but he knew now that he needed to let go , get him away from there . ❛ go find my brother , find my friends , tell them what happened and they'll HELP you - and keep them away from me , keep yourself away from me . ❜ he could only hope that stiles listened to him , took onboard what he said in that moment and would follow it through . stefan tried to steel his facial expressions , but there was a distinct quiver to his lips , speaking an apology one FINAL time as he held either side of the other's head , snapping his neck one last time . knowing that this time he wouldn't be there when he came around . ❛ i'm sorry . ❜

#sarcasticsnackpack #⊲ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴘᴘᴇʀ ﹣ sᴛᴇғᴀɴ sᴀʟᴠᴀᴛᴏʀᴇ ⊳#⊲ ᴀsᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ sʜᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠᴇ ﹣ ᴀsᴋʙᴏx ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇs ⊳#[[ did someone ask for feelings ?? ]]

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hypnotisedfireflies · 11 months

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Hi Arien! Were there any major or minor plot points in Driftersverse that almost happened but didn't? Would love to learn about any and all tidbits you feel like sharing. Thank you <3

Okay ... this is fun, thanks for asking. <3 I'm going to remember what I can. Most of the stuff that almost happened but didn't I've been able to cover off in some of the prompts, by expanding things.

Speaking of, at the risk of being George Lucas, there is actually an additional chapter I plan to slot in early to Dawn. It's something that is subtly throughout but I realised I didn't give it proper gravity until it was better embellished in one of the prompts. So yeah that's a thing. But anyway, on to your question proper:

Ash was not originally a villain. He was going to be with them awhile longer and then die as a sacrificial lamb. He was still a dick, though.

Mike was not originally dead, but missing. He and Tess got separated and she was in a camp with their son, who died a couple of years in when that camp got overrun.

I never meant for him to come back, though. It was just going to be one of those 'lost in the chaos' things and Tess would eventually accept he was gone.

Keisha was more villainous and less mixed up. In fact, the whole scene with Tess and Joel in the park at night happened because Keisha was supposed to see them and then make certain accusations that would get Joel in trouble. And because it was rough, she didn't register the consent, it just hearkened back to her own trauma.

Tess was going to take care of it in a way that would make things look like an accident but I just felt it was all over too dark and melodramatic and stupid.

I wrote about 3000 words of this btw

It just felt more interesting to me that Keisha was broken and harmless.

But this plot meant Rachel didn't leave with them because she figured out what Tess did.

Which was the original plan, Tess was going to choose Joel over Rachel but it just seemed dumb to me. I mean ... she could have both. There was no reason to make Rachel a villain for the sake of it, it seemed more interesting that she would be a gradual ally and form her own bond with Joel.

Plus I realised that if things were going to work, I needed to get Tess to a place of healing that he finds at the end of TLOU, so I started laying plans for that instead.

There was a lot of stuff in Indy that I didn't dwell on but wish I had, so I'm really glad for the prompt that led me to write Spite, so I could expand on that. I wish I had spent more time in Indy, but Tess didn't know what was going on behind the scenes so I couldn't really write it ... plus pacing etc etc.

I had planned on going into the consequences of all those pills and alcohol a bit more but there just wasn't really room to give it the full treatment so I just dropped it. I have sort of left it there a bit? There's some stuff coming up in Miss World that elaborates more on what I wanted to establish with Tess and her relationship with pills, and I sketched it out a little in Shots Fired!, but I did intend them to be a bit more fucked up on that kind of stuff at one point.

Ricardo was supposed to live longer than he did but he also got the sacrificial lamb treatment. (I would actually like to write more about those happy months with the four of them travelling around.)

There was a thing where they were going to travel by motorbike for awhile but that's happening in the AU instead. >.>

#driftersverse #asks

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recklessly-built · 6 months

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This page is basically a map of my childhood. Detailed explanation under the break for anyone interested.

Colored with Tombow dual tip markers, inked with a dip pen and microns, highlighted with various special effect watercolors, and stickers are all from art supply stores like Blick.

I spent a solid day working on this save for the sleep I needed in between stages.

tw: mentions child abuse/neglect, drugs, alcohol

Starting from the bottom right of the page, the lamb represents birth (hence the birthday cake). There's a pink bow that says 94 around it's neck, signifying me being afab. The cake has pink candles but it's frosting and decoration are purple and yellow because I'm largely nonbinary and wanted to show this by using baby colors alternative to the typical pink and blue. The axe and spilled guts are an obvious nod to the sacrificial lamb trope. I chose these displays of violence specifically to convey that my mind and body have felt irreparably damaged from the start.

Next, we have the hanged Doodle Bear. These bears were popular in the year I was born, and I always wanted one but never got one. This is basically what I would look like as one. She has a tutu and little beaded bracelets that sparkle. She would be the envy of all the other bears if her abuser hadn't written such ugly things on her... These words were weapons my mother used against me growing up. I was called ungrateful by a crackhead who constantly put me in danger and willfully abused and neglected me. I was called a spoiled brat for "not appreciating" all the toys and other shiny distractions used to keep my focus away from how deeply toxic my environment was. I was called miserable, and in fact, I really was. How could I not be... The bloody handprint is the tainted touch of my abuser. With all the violence I experienced, any time she tried to hug me set off my fight or flight and to this day I still struggle to show affection towards family and friends. I have attachment issues with romantic partners because when I'm comfortable touching them I don't wanna let go. The noose is for the time my mother tried to kill me. She tried to snuff me out with a pillow because she wanted the baby she was supposed to have with her new boyfriend instead. She resented me for existing.

The haunted womb is actually my mother. Her uterus was practically a graveyard. It's no wonder I have a thing for the supernatural, my first house was haunted. :') She had so many miscarriages it's unknown how I managed to survive when she was actively drinking and doing hard drugs the entire time. I was only 3 weeks early too; you'd think I would've been ejected way sooner but no such luck.

The kitten and dog are my tween and teen years. Going through puberty, I was denied privacy and the right to feel what I was feeling. I didn't have any way to express my pain because my suffering was never worth more than my mother's. Middle school me didn't wanna hear the same stories anymore of how and why she deserved to be a wretched beast instead of a real mother. I didn't wanna see any more of her violent outbursts or watch her kill herself with addiction. I couldn't say anything to anyone because she convinced me that being anywhere else than where I was would be worse and I didn't want to take the risk. The dog is a little older and cares a lot less. she wears the term "liar" and a spider web (web of lies) on her face as if they were prideful but they are actually her insecurities. My mother called me a liar my whole life because I would get caught in stupid lies when I was trying to get around her, like, "Yes, I did my school work, can I go out?" and, "No, I didn't tell anyone that horrible thing you did/said". I learned to manipulate her back when I realized she'd believe almost anything as easily as I did. The difference is, I was a child. I didn't know better yet. I was also accused of lying about things when I wasn't so since she was determined not to believe me I had to just accept my role in her story as a wicked child hellbent on trickery. She never believed any of what I did was out of a feeling of necessity. I guess that's fair since I never believed her either. /s Her third eye is for the Sacral Chakra which is for the expression of sexuality, emotions, relationships, sensual pleasure, creativity, and fantasies. These concepts were my obsession as a teenager and got me into a fair bit of trouble that followed me for a long time after. If I could go back and tell her she really wasn't ready, I would, but she wouldn't listen to me anyway. You can see her trying to show off with her piercings, face tattoos, hair color, and makeup. I didn't actually do most of those things because I couldn't afford it even if I wanted to (except the tongue bar, that was real) but this is who she was trying to be. By the time I graduated, I had already planned a lifetime's worth of body mods, had several ex-boyfriends, and was enjoying the attention of other (unfortunately, older) men so I felt fully unstoppable. I figured if I was being forced to live this life, I was gonna have fun doing it. I didn't know the fun I was having then would come at my expense now. The grief and realization that things could've been different is as intoxicating as the liquor I drink to cope.

In the background are some other elements I felt were important pillars in my development. The razors are obviously tied to self-destruction but I didn't technically cut until I was an adult. The sentiment was always there though. The pills are Vicodin and Valium. my mom had a serious pill problem when I was in middle school and I'm not sure if it ever really got better, I just didn't notice it after starting high school cause I tried to stay out more. The kandi (beaded jewelry) found around the page is for the first stage of healing my inner child when I was 17. I discovered rave culture online and made enough kandi to last me through all the raves I've been to since I was 18. It was the first time I felt like I was part of a community. It helped me socialize and the simple act of making kandi was meditative for me. It was an activity that I could start alone and later share with others and it brought me such childlike joy to do it.

And finally, the stickers are all the pets and treats I had to distract me from all the drama. Spoiler: It didn't work lol.

This concludes a very long and depressing dissection of my own work.

#traumacore #handmade #arts and crafts #vent art #child abuse #trauma #art #illustration #mixed media #gore #drugs

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yellow-sprouts · 1 year

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I want to write a story where the main charecter is one of those classic "Chosen one" archetypes. They were no one- shunned by their neighbors and abandoned by their people- then the former heros come along claiming that A is part of some grand prophecy.

They are taken to paradise - suddenly surrounded by friends and mentors - and for once in their life, they feel SEEN. But it also feels conditional - of course, they push those hesitations aside because they have a job to do in taking down BBG. They don't feel up to the task - who are they to take down BBG when they're some nobody who just so happens to be "gifted" by a God they don't believe in.

But what about when they finally meet BBG? Not in the middle of some battle - but heading back to their camp after the rest of their friends stay out partying - just saying they were tired and wanted to sleep. They run into BBG in the woods, which introduces themselves, and of course, A freaks out. But seeing BBG has no imminent incentive to hurt them, they hear them out.

The main villain wasn't born powerful. They were cunning, crafted, and forged an empire, They tell the hero this, their stories seeming all too similar.

"You're right, you know - you * aren't * some sort of secret weapon... you're just a kid. One who was targeted by these fallen heros and molded into what they wished themselves to be, you're smart, so im sure you've noticed it too.

How you always seem to be pushed towards what *they* want and expect of you

Do you really think that any of your so-called friends would even bother giving you the loose coins in their pouches if you weren't this divine chosen one? They don't care about you. They care about the person they imagine you to be, nothing more.

You're the sacrificial lamb to their agendas... be smarter than that - and don't be wasted down to some vessel they pump power into and discard once you've fulfilled your purpose"

"So that gives you three options- either you follow through with this and hope the friends you made in this short time, are as true as they present themselves to be, as if they'd pay you any mind if you were just **you** and not the chosen one

Or you could go home. You could throw in the towel and admit that this is more than you can handle - I assure you I wouldn't fault you for it- and neither should anyone else not ready to take the responsibility in your place

**Or**

You could join me.

All that power and training would be a waste to just go back to that miserable life you lived before, but with me? You will Forge your *own* destiny - not as some Chosen one - but as my right hand in the dawn of a new era"

The Villian was right - it wasn't a matter of the hero growing into what the "chosen one" was supposed to be. He could have easily been one of thousands, but here he had a chance to take fate by its reins and change the world for those thousands left behind.

"I don't expect you to choose right away - it's a lot I know - and you'd be seen as the new enemy to your friends. But you've been gifted. You have your past that shaped you, and you have the power and opportunity to demand change for the injustice these elites would rather sweep under the rug. It's easier to put one man's head on a pike than save millions from a system built against them from day one"

Anyway that's just a random dabble- but I'm very invested in the idea of the chosen one not just "getting over" their past. Knowing that fate could've just as easily picked someone else. They can either follow the "Heros" path their being nudged on, accept the new life at face value and maintain it with the condition that they prove useful enough in saving the world.

OR They can use the power they've gained and choose their own path, one far more uncertain but one that they have personal agenda in seeing played out. They've seen the suffering and know that killing BBG will just cause a rise to another.

AKA GIVE ME CUNNING HERO WHO REFUSES TO BE "BOUGHT IN" BY SUPERFICIAL FRIENDSHIPS AND LAVISH LIFESTYLES THAT HE WOULD HAVE BEEN DENIED HAD HE BEEN ANYONE ELSE.

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onewomancitadel · 2 years

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Honestly seeing all your speculation and theory-crafting and connecting narrative/thematic parallels and all that gives me a sense of security for next Volume. I'm personally very stressed and worried that Jaune might end up becoming a sacrificial lamb of some kind on the island, but seeing all your posts on Knightfall or how there's still unresolved themes that have to be followed and stuff like that make me realize it *PROBABLY* won't happen since it would leave everyone so unsatisfied narratively. I know my fear's probably a bunch of bull-crap, but it still gives me a sense of anxiety since Jaune is my favorite character (no matter what anyone else might say), and seeing your stuff gives me weird comfort.

Personally, I'm doubtful the island's gonna house the spirits of dead characters (despite how much I wish it so) or the Brother Gods. If you ask me though, I think the island's probably an "in-between" place, a sort of purgatory of some kind (maybe not in the religious sense?). Something I think that might happen is that Jaune might start seeing/hearing things, kind of like how the real Joan of Arc had visions of angels and God; his sword's broken and he's stuck down there with no real way out, so he's probably super stressed, and the island seems like it might have some mystical properties to it, so maybe it could inadvertently start messing with his head? I don't know how valid it is, but I think it would make sense if this is the point where they start leaning into the Joan of Arc parallels with visions/hallucinations.

Don't worry, Jaune is my favourite character too. I'm glad my blog is giving you some sense of security, but I would honestly be shocked if he dies. I'll say it again because it bears repeating: the characters who have died so far are not major characters (team JNR promoted to main cast in V4, I think), their deaths have been really thematically purposeful - take Clover, he's Qrow in the Bad World where you're not allowed to express how much you care, and Qrow deeply cares, and he's the one who dies, because the story rejects 'efficiency' - and most importantly, they've been relatively staggered out. Truthfully, if Jaune were to die, it wouldn't be until much later, but even then, if they actually commit to Knightfall it would be especially cruel to do that to Cinder.

I'm willing to entertain they'll break their patterns, but I doubt Jaune would have such extreme moral confrontation now to only die. I don't think he's going to be punished for helping give Penny her choice. Something I personally read into it is that he's a positive masculine figure who empowers the woman in question - meanwhile Ironwood is an oppressive patriarchal figure holding Winter down. By Jaune empowering Penny, Penny empowers Winter. It would be cruel to punish him for that.

I agree with you regarding the island. I have a theory on how the worlds of Remnant work which is kind of tinfoily. The way I see it is that there is the Real World, which is where the spiritual gains material presence and every colour is separate but must be harmonised. There's the White Place (Ozma meeting the God of Light, Penny transferring her powers), and white is the intersection of all colour at once. There's the Special World (the Fallen Place), where the colour is very acute, and it's sort of slightly surreal - it might be a place of dreams, visions, etc., colour can't be harmonised here but is very vivid. Then there is the underworld, which is no colour and can't be seen.

Four makes a lot of sense, given the rule of four. It's why it's odd there are only two brothers.

And yes I do actually agree with you, if they decide to play up the allusions any more (Ruby and her wolfiness, for instance, being Grimmified) than they already have, this is the spot to do it for him. With that being said, the visions are not negative for Joan of Arc, in fact they empower her. So I suppose the question is whether they decide to play with that, subvert it, etc. The relevance of allusions are not always clear and I think they leave themselves openings. Like, Jaune could die by flame or he could... well... I've said it before, I won't say it again.

Though they are more prescriptive with the allusions when it comes to the romance. The only pairing that breaks this pattern is Ren/Nora (the original Mulan poem doesn't make reference to a love interest which also fits Nora, and for Thor, well, his love interests vary), which is partly because team JNPR had the two anime-inspired romances, one of which ended poorly. It does lead me to cast doubt on the future of the ship for this reason, or if they're doing some specific pattern-breaking stuff with them for a reason. It's true of their colours too - pink/green is a different type of colour complementary system to yellow/purple, red/green, orange/blue, and Nora is only getting her own colour now (blue).

Anyway, off-topic now, sorry. Point is I think the Fallen Place being a distortedly magical world is more interesting.

On the note again of Jaune dying: if they do that I think it would be very silly, Penny's death was predictable to me because she didn't seem like she'd be sticking around, and her goodbye with her dad was very... it was the last goodbye. The deaths in R/WBY are intelligible and discernible, the real wound, again, is Ozma's absurd death.

I also doubt Jaune would die in the Special World. It seems like it would be a mistake to have a character death down there, because fandom would FOREVER speculate about his return. I think it's very likely he will be in a dark place and will be challenged, though. That's why I want Cinder there.

I also recommend just accepting that the story they tell is the story they tell. If you feel upset by it at any point, you are still allowed to be. I'm not even mad at Penny fans for being upset about her death - I just wish there were some more understanding of thematic consistency, and the importance of the Salem/Ozma conflict were more realised.

The reason I'm invested in Jaune and Cinder, one of many, is how they answer that, and that's why I think the two of them sticking around matters.

#seraphina's asks #V9 speculation #jaune arc sadsack tag

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jvzebel-x · 3 years

Text

💝 circa 2015 ~ present 💝

🦋

when people first heard me speak, for years, the first thing they'd note was the crystal English, clearly spoken&carefully grammatically groomed. the way i couldn't code-switch verbally, the split second&pause to blink(&translate). as a child, it made me furious because it marked me apart as much as the translucent skin no one could ever explain, no matter how much sun i ever got, thick blue veins pulsing under skin that could never hide them regardless of how brown my skin turned. my mother raised me differently than she raised her other children: i am her eldest daughter, the one who stole her beauty in the womb&changed her life forever, the miracle baby she was never supposed to have that grew next to an ovary that needed to be removed during pregnancy. there have always been expectations, rules for the trade i made in utero, the very first deal with the devil i ever sealed to see daylight. every time she beat the mispronunciation out of me, she reminded me that it marked me as stupid, as ignorant, as a lazy islander, just like it had marked her, &every time someone noted my speech, the unspoken part was how they weren't expecting it from me. now, as an adult, it makes me furious because people think that my assimilation is a compliment, not a scar, &twice as much because my accent only comes out with the fury&proves the stereotype right.

the silence from either side of my family is deafening, the way that silence is so often heavier than any word that could be said over a staticky phone line, the same way distance is so often so much more than just measurements in how the crow flies. twelve miles is almost nothing, but a childhood believing your parents are both God&Devil can turn twelve miles into levels of hell, if you do it right. an angry mother with a score to settle can't be contained by an island, an ocean, millions of miles, or the alleged freedom that comes with aging out&moving away, &sometimes silence is the only way to say that. sometimes, "i'm sorry this is happening to you," is the only way someone can say, "i can't let this happen to me, too." &"mom&dad will be visiting some time soon," means, "if mom finds out i'm letting you crash on my couch, she will kill me." sometimes, "call me if you need anything else," really just means, "anything else, anything else, but this." but when i survived&my brother hugged me, when he saw the aftermath of the year&the place i'd found to live, after all, that silence was only apologies, only the silence of a lifetime of just trying to survive&trusting each other to understand that-- &i do.

i was raised in polarity in every way: my parents called our neighborhood "Nu'uanu" not "Kalihi", as if the name change would change the three police stations or the kam4 gang colours or the kpt knife fights or the meth ziploc baggies. this subtle mental gymnastics trick was one of the few things they could ever agree on, but none of their kids ever agreed from either side of the divided household. i was raised with a father, but not by one: i was the sacrificial lamb, the golden goose fated to die full of potential the second i opened my mouth to prove it didn't matter how much i looked like my father when i sounded just like his wife, had my nose in a book just like his wife, thought i was smart just like his wife, had a smart mouth just like his wife, took a hit just like his wife. i was my father's least favourite child, but my mother's best friend, &this worked out for both of them, in the end, because they could each blame me on the other.

every bottle of darkened sauce or infused oil i've ever had, i've refilled with water to get every drop of it out-- just like my mother before me, &her mother before her, this is the only thing i know of cooking from my mother, this act of careful conservation&the collection of mismatched bottles under the sink. i spent hours&hours&hours of my life in the kitchen with her, but cooking was an art she'd taught herself, a sacred craft she'd learned on her own. cooking was how my mother illustrated her love for her family, in feeding her sons who could&would eat plate after plate&shower her in compliments the entire time, &her husband who was only ever happy with her around dinnertime. cooking was my mother's sacred&special place, &hers alone: i was only allowed to watch, &expected to keep her company while she made magic out of food stamps&air. the first time she saw my spice collection once i'd moved out, she laughed, she was so shocked: she just had never thought i was the type to want to cook without a family to feed.

it isn't always about what's there-- sometimes, it's about what's not, &what you'll do to fill the space.

#i am feeling very nostalgic today&am making that everyone's problem lol sorry y'all look away from The Sad(tm)#i took this pic the other day&realized i had another one in that exact shirt just fucking like it LOL.#i actually took that pic in 2015 right after an interview that i had been offered at a drug rehab center that i was trying to volunteer at #but the front desk person recognized me from visiting family a lot&offered me an interview for a paid gig. :) i was v. proud&super stoked.#it ended up not being able to pay enough lol but esp bc of where i was in life it was a huge confidence boost to even be offered the gig.#so anyway shout out to hina mauka for being an amazing facility that deserves more funding lol&my sense of fashion for being Timeless.#i'm grateful for both. ♡#gratitude journal #me #mine #my words #tw #tw: abuse

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