(allow me to believe)
May. 10th, 2004 03:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
reenkaI was reading Ivy's `Hiatus', and... I got all gooey. I wouldn't call that piece itself -sappy- or anything, but sometimes the mood does strike me, and Harry&Draco start to glow in my head as if I'm seeing them on a cathedral window or something. Yep, I take "OTP" to a whoooole new level.
Sadly enough, self-insert fics are almost -normal- in original stuff, for me. I guess one can't tell what's self-insert and what isn't, so it lulls one into a false feeling of security. So I started rambling on about the glory of their True Wuv (tm!) and suddenly I was getting all personal and thinking, "Hmm... me? Hermione? Hmmmm."
That's when I should've performed a mercy killing, I'm sure of it.
...This is so embarrassing. It's not really a fic, though. I mean, kind of but not really. In my head, it's all relative, you know :>
I want to keep you two together when it seems like all you want to do is fall apart. I want to say, "Hey, just look-- look at each other-- tell each other what you see." I want it to mean something more, something that would make it easier for me, but neither of you had ever made a habit of making things easy, have you.
In my dream, your love is beautiful and solid. It's evident in every sentence, no matter what you say; whether you're together or not. It radiates, it shines, it's the gravity that keeps you on the earth, in each other's orbit. In my dream, you do talk instead of always snarking, and you understand each other. I think you need each other, you see. I don't know why, but once the idea settled in my brain, there was no withdrawing it.
I see a rhythm, a flow between you, and you make me remember what love is; like I ever knew. "So this is how it works," I think, and I feel like smiling because I realize I'd never actually forgotten. I can't forget this. This could never end, even if the two of you do-- even if you broke up, this wouldn't break.
From the outside, it would be nearly oblique, possibly incomprehensible. If one judges it, it disappears. But if one closes one's eyes, one can see it-- as if it's always been there, that image of them.
The best stories do that: allow me to believe. The people in them believe in themselves, too; in each other.
I never really believed in magic, quite. I still rely on proofs and measures and what I can construe of facts, and sometimes it just feels so painfully lonely I could snap. The magic was always there, since childhood, but I could never really touch it; thing is, I think you can, Harry. You can live for all of us. Sometimes I think that's what the whole "Boy Who Lived" thing is there for.
You'd blush and look at me funny if I told you that, I know you would. You hate that title, and I'm not too crazy about it either. And I'm too sensible to really say things like that anyway, though I can write them down. You keep secrets too, of course, but you're so... straightforward. You may question everything else, but you doesn't question your basic perceptions of yourself, your own feelings. It seemed obvious that when you fell, you'd fall hard and certain.
I could look at you beaming at everyone and think, 'just you wait, Harry. Just you wait'. And of course, you'd never know why I was smiling like that.
The people in the stories could figure out how to believe what they're saying, figure out who they are together, and everything that matters falls into place. Suddenly, it's not difficult at all. It's not a struggle, it's not impossible. It's the easiest thing they'd ever done. Loving each other is the easiest thing they'd ever done, and they know it.
That's what I want. That's why I go breathless and wonder-struck when I see it in a story, when it becomes self-evident all over again, when I'm allowed to believe without trying again. I never thought I'd witness it in reality.
It's not sappy, when it happens. It's not cheesy, it's not inevitable, it's not fate. It didn't have to happen, but it did, because they chose-- they chose each other, somehow. It's not a miracle, but it feels like it could be. It's like-- life can surprise you, sometimes, because you think you're falling apart but you're finally getting it, instead. You're finally getting it. It shouldn't work, either; it's sheer foolishness, anyone could tell you that. That's not love, they'd say, that's juvenile infatuation. Hormones. They say it can't last, but you two don't need it to last.
'Feels too good to stop,' I know that's what you're thinking. I couldn't live like that, but I want to see you try it. You're strong enough, I think. I believe in you two. I need to; always have.
"Sometimes I really do want to hurt him, you know."
If you told me you thought he slipped you a love-potion when you weren't looking, I wouldn't laugh, Harry. I suppose that's how it has to feel-- out of control and kind of insane. The way magic would feel inside you, though I wouldn't know. I never thought swallowing a potion felt like magic.
You never imagined yourself capable of this, did you?
"I wish he'd stop looking at me. I wish he'd just go away. I don't even need him to die. I just want him not to have existed, you know?"
You'd said things like that only what-- months ago, right?
Oh Harry.
Everything else aside, it hurts me to see you hurt that that, Harry. All this anger and insecurity must be tearing you apart, and I can't pretend otherwise even though I wish I could. I wish I could write you only happy endings. I wish you never had to hurt anyone again, least of all yourself.
I know, Harry. Hell, my daily level of irritation is something most people couldn't even imagine. I know what it's like to be exasperated and beside yourself the greater part of every day. But it's worth it, isn't it? You can make it be worth it, if you worked on it. I would tell you two to work on it, but neither of you ever listens. It's all right, I think, you'll learn.
Neither of you two listens to authority unless you choose to, and I've always respected that. I go along too easily; I take the path of least resistance, and I never wanted to see you do it. I don't want you to struggle-- I just want you to win, Harry.
You'd be surprised to know I approved, if you knew I knew, wouldn't you? It's kind of like a nightmare, even with all the good parts. I know it is. I love you, and you wouldn't think I'd want that for you, right?
That's probably the reason you'd not tell anyone-- you're just so uncomfortable with it yourselves. From the outside, it may look almost sweet, but the sweetness never quite permeates all the way to the core, does it? I know that. Sweetness isn't all one needs though, is it?
And what do they know, anyway? They'd grown up and gotten their piece of the pie, haven't they. They're so certain, aren't they. They've got all the answers, and you've got none, but you don't need answers anyway. All you need is the certainty of now. That's how it could be, I think.
I just love you, Harry, and I want you to have stability and tender touches and teasing looks and all of it. I want you to accept all of yourself, even the ugly parts, the parts you think are Slytherin and dangerous. And if he didn't love you the way I know he does-- the way I know he can-- I would still want to believe.
I'd still want to believe in you.
~~
...Hee. Only Ivy's fic could make me -this- sappy ^^;
Sadly enough, self-insert fics are almost -normal- in original stuff, for me. I guess one can't tell what's self-insert and what isn't, so it lulls one into a false feeling of security. So I started rambling on about the glory of their True Wuv (tm!) and suddenly I was getting all personal and thinking, "Hmm... me? Hermione? Hmmmm."
That's when I should've performed a mercy killing, I'm sure of it.
...This is so embarrassing. It's not really a fic, though. I mean, kind of but not really. In my head, it's all relative, you know :>
I want to keep you two together when it seems like all you want to do is fall apart. I want to say, "Hey, just look-- look at each other-- tell each other what you see." I want it to mean something more, something that would make it easier for me, but neither of you had ever made a habit of making things easy, have you.
In my dream, your love is beautiful and solid. It's evident in every sentence, no matter what you say; whether you're together or not. It radiates, it shines, it's the gravity that keeps you on the earth, in each other's orbit. In my dream, you do talk instead of always snarking, and you understand each other. I think you need each other, you see. I don't know why, but once the idea settled in my brain, there was no withdrawing it.
I see a rhythm, a flow between you, and you make me remember what love is; like I ever knew. "So this is how it works," I think, and I feel like smiling because I realize I'd never actually forgotten. I can't forget this. This could never end, even if the two of you do-- even if you broke up, this wouldn't break.
From the outside, it would be nearly oblique, possibly incomprehensible. If one judges it, it disappears. But if one closes one's eyes, one can see it-- as if it's always been there, that image of them.
The best stories do that: allow me to believe. The people in them believe in themselves, too; in each other.
I never really believed in magic, quite. I still rely on proofs and measures and what I can construe of facts, and sometimes it just feels so painfully lonely I could snap. The magic was always there, since childhood, but I could never really touch it; thing is, I think you can, Harry. You can live for all of us. Sometimes I think that's what the whole "Boy Who Lived" thing is there for.
You'd blush and look at me funny if I told you that, I know you would. You hate that title, and I'm not too crazy about it either. And I'm too sensible to really say things like that anyway, though I can write them down. You keep secrets too, of course, but you're so... straightforward. You may question everything else, but you doesn't question your basic perceptions of yourself, your own feelings. It seemed obvious that when you fell, you'd fall hard and certain.
I could look at you beaming at everyone and think, 'just you wait, Harry. Just you wait'. And of course, you'd never know why I was smiling like that.
The people in the stories could figure out how to believe what they're saying, figure out who they are together, and everything that matters falls into place. Suddenly, it's not difficult at all. It's not a struggle, it's not impossible. It's the easiest thing they'd ever done. Loving each other is the easiest thing they'd ever done, and they know it.
That's what I want. That's why I go breathless and wonder-struck when I see it in a story, when it becomes self-evident all over again, when I'm allowed to believe without trying again. I never thought I'd witness it in reality.
It's not sappy, when it happens. It's not cheesy, it's not inevitable, it's not fate. It didn't have to happen, but it did, because they chose-- they chose each other, somehow. It's not a miracle, but it feels like it could be. It's like-- life can surprise you, sometimes, because you think you're falling apart but you're finally getting it, instead. You're finally getting it. It shouldn't work, either; it's sheer foolishness, anyone could tell you that. That's not love, they'd say, that's juvenile infatuation. Hormones. They say it can't last, but you two don't need it to last.
'Feels too good to stop,' I know that's what you're thinking. I couldn't live like that, but I want to see you try it. You're strong enough, I think. I believe in you two. I need to; always have.
"Sometimes I really do want to hurt him, you know."
If you told me you thought he slipped you a love-potion when you weren't looking, I wouldn't laugh, Harry. I suppose that's how it has to feel-- out of control and kind of insane. The way magic would feel inside you, though I wouldn't know. I never thought swallowing a potion felt like magic.
You never imagined yourself capable of this, did you?
"I wish he'd stop looking at me. I wish he'd just go away. I don't even need him to die. I just want him not to have existed, you know?"
You'd said things like that only what-- months ago, right?
Oh Harry.
Everything else aside, it hurts me to see you hurt that that, Harry. All this anger and insecurity must be tearing you apart, and I can't pretend otherwise even though I wish I could. I wish I could write you only happy endings. I wish you never had to hurt anyone again, least of all yourself.
I know, Harry. Hell, my daily level of irritation is something most people couldn't even imagine. I know what it's like to be exasperated and beside yourself the greater part of every day. But it's worth it, isn't it? You can make it be worth it, if you worked on it. I would tell you two to work on it, but neither of you ever listens. It's all right, I think, you'll learn.
Neither of you two listens to authority unless you choose to, and I've always respected that. I go along too easily; I take the path of least resistance, and I never wanted to see you do it. I don't want you to struggle-- I just want you to win, Harry.
You'd be surprised to know I approved, if you knew I knew, wouldn't you? It's kind of like a nightmare, even with all the good parts. I know it is. I love you, and you wouldn't think I'd want that for you, right?
That's probably the reason you'd not tell anyone-- you're just so uncomfortable with it yourselves. From the outside, it may look almost sweet, but the sweetness never quite permeates all the way to the core, does it? I know that. Sweetness isn't all one needs though, is it?
And what do they know, anyway? They'd grown up and gotten their piece of the pie, haven't they. They're so certain, aren't they. They've got all the answers, and you've got none, but you don't need answers anyway. All you need is the certainty of now. That's how it could be, I think.
I just love you, Harry, and I want you to have stability and tender touches and teasing looks and all of it. I want you to accept all of yourself, even the ugly parts, the parts you think are Slytherin and dangerous. And if he didn't love you the way I know he does-- the way I know he can-- I would still want to believe.
I'd still want to believe in you.
~~
...Hee. Only Ivy's fic could make me -this- sappy ^^;
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no subject
Date: 2004-05-12 02:03 am (UTC)And yet, I do want them to be happy, and for them -not- to be bad for each other. I can't ship them if I thought they're bad for each other, realism be damned They have to change, and no, I don't know how to do it without them losing the bits that endear them to me. But. Yes, resentment is normal, but hate isn't, I don't think. The hate was never really real anyway-- it was always a cover-up for hurt and anger. So yes, they can always be angry with each other, and if they were to stay toegther past 2 months, they'd always have to be working on it, talking. They'd have to learn to -talk-, to be each other's friends. No matter that they'd lose something of who they are that way-- everyone changes. No one is worth being unhappy for. No one. There's no match "perfect" enough. Simple enough-- if someone's making you unhealthy or unhappy, you should leave them.
That's why I love H/D friendship fics, few of them as there are. That's why I love UL & Silvia Kundera's `And I Get By (http://www.rightthisway.net/proclivities/silvia/andigetby.html)', which is like, the most perfect fic evah :> And it was for meeeeeeeeeeeee!! *siiiigh* They WUV EACH OTHER!!1
no subject
Date: 2004-05-13 03:07 am (UTC)Anyway, I prefer get-together fics too, and I prefer stuff when they have a lot of issues – I mean, isn’t it not the point of H/D, that there is all this conflict? I think H/D allows you to dwell into conflict quite well, it should be the reason why people write it. Well, besides it being their kink – I know it’s mine. I guess if you wanted to explore friendship and loyalty and… I don’t know, shared angst over being the outsiders you should be writing H/N or whatnot. So it’s not really a problem of ignoring their issues – because I don’t think a H/D writer’s primary aim should be getting them together. It should be exploring their issues. Isn’t that the reason why H/D became their kink in the first place? ;P
I'm afraid or bored or both. In my mind, it's always that get-together story, over and over again, trying to get it perfect.
Oh, I feel the perfect H/D established relationship fic should read like this too. Just an other get-together story. It’s like, I imagine they will be forever get together and then break up and then get together again. Trying to get it perfect.
They have to change, and no, I don't know how to do it without them losing the bits that endear them to me.
May I ask you what these bits are? The pettiness? The anger-management issues? The envy, the revenge-thirst, the self-involvement, the blindness to the other side’s reasons? Cos, you know, these are the bad sides of theirs that charm me and I don’t see how they could prevent them to start a relationship. It just would always be on the edge. But that’s the thing with H/D, isn’t it? This invariable clashing.
I don’t think hate is so abnormal. You’re right that if it were the most significant feeling between them it would be a problem, but what if it’s an undercurrent? Do you want it to really go away? I agree that it would be healthier, but this is about love, not about stability. I mean, it’s fiction – it needs conflict and turnarounds and intensity. And even if you are talking about real people’s real relationship, not even real people areever completely happy, I don’t think. It’s a nice fantasy and nothing more. And if the person you’re with satisfies your every need, if they are all you think about, if there’s nothing about them that irritates you – that’s when the relationship is most dangerous. Because it’s co-dependent, and co-dependence is a lot worse than a daily scream-match.
I love friendships fic in general because friendship is such an important element of life and I am bitter people value it so little in general – it’s all about the star-crossed love or the smut or the OTP or whatever. I want to read Draco/Ron friendship fics and Pansy/Draco friendship fics but they don’t exist, and this makes me very sad.
However.
With H/D I don’t want the friendship. It’s just… never going to work (in my mind at least) because of that tension and lack of emphaty and rivalry and loathe. Oh, I’m talking out of my ass really because the truth is that H/D romantic fic is to important for me to settle for something different.