~~fuse. ficlet. the rest is blah.
Dec. 4th, 2002 03:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
reenkai think it's so funny the way people are clinging to what they know, re: the slashing of the Trilogy. i mean-- and this is slashers, people who really -want- to see harry & draco together. and yet-- it's like-- a prevalent sentiment is that we're having our leg pulled. it's not really draco. it's not really a kiss-- he's trying to "do" something with it-- something either hurtful (especially if it's not draco), or possibly practical, ie, shielding harry's face from their pursuers, which is hilarious.
the reason this amuses me, is just that it underscores that no matter what, people cling to what they know, whether or not they want it, or it's what they would like best, or even if it hurts them the way it is. at least it's familiar, and you can trust that for sure, it's real, and it's not going to disintegrate under your feet. especially since there are... `rumors' that cassie is just `teasing' us h/d-ers. which isn't true, if this was a long-planned plot point. i really doubt any author worth anything would do things just to get a squeal out of the audience. it's a silly thing to do. also, it's not very angsty, heh.
personally, i'm with aja on the idea that -harry- is going to have a real reaction. and i don't even care, because it's bloody obvious they're in love even if they -don't- get together, really. there are -so- many slash stories where you don't get as believable of a bond between characters who are supposed to be head-over-heels and so on. it's funny that everyone's scrambling to cling to their previous positions though, still. even i! i mean, my previous position was that, duh! they love each other and no fic can be this heavy on subtext by accident. ahem. it's not like jkr, where she's so spare with characterization, the subtext is ripe for the imagining. here, everything is very much defined. so yah. people are funny.
gah. Trilogy non-love scares me. i mean, i rant about ooc characterizations and so on, but really, my favorite fics? aren't all that in-character. because when you -really- flesh out these characters and really go someplace interesting with them, you can't help but leave behind canon, to a large extent. i mean-- i can honest say all my favorite chaptered fics are varying degrees of being ooc. some, glaringly so.
what's the most in-character chaptered fic, then, to use as a standard?
i can't think of anything worth putting across right now. they're all differently flawed. they're all -brilliant- in their variations, but none of them are jkr's character-clones in any way, shape, or form. this is just chaptered fics, mind.
EDIT: hmm. just occurred to me that i think `sins of the father' is going in that direction. a weird choice (semi-obscure anyway), but yah. so far.
so that's sort of silly. i do rant about oocness, but usually that's because it's also overly sweet or unrealistic in general, and not very well-written. you can't even -have- a well-written draco paired with harry, in a semi-hopeful relationship, and have him be jkr's draco, as of the fourth book. granted, the Trilogy wasn't supposedly trying to pair harry & draco (hah!), but it -was- trying to write a whole 3 books about him, and well-- canon!draco wouldn't sit well with that sort of attention. *sigh* but anyway. defending the Trilogy is about as stupid as ranting about its badness. so i won't. except to say, i don't see how you can love harry & draco and dislike it, because their love sort of drenches it like ... like some sort of buttery drench-ey thing ^^
ahem.
Disclaimer: yah, right.
Warning: *laughs* don't let the slash bug bite you.
A/N: inspired by Draco Veritas 11. guh. I'm not saying this is what I predict, or what I want. Maybe it's just what I feel from it, through it, about it.
guess I thought I could never feel
the things I feel
~~tori amos, `hey jupiter'
~~~~~~
~~~~~~fuse.
~~~~~~
I see you first behind my eyelids, coming into focus. Slightly blurry, your edges dancing, smudged with rain and shock and distance. It's not really the glint of silver in your hair, sharp as a knife between my ribs. It's not the slash of your mouth, which must be cutting you just as it's cutting me. Before I ever heard you, I knew it was you because suddenly, it was as if a thousand street-lamps had switched on. Why is it you have to blind me?
Sometimes it's easy to think that if you weren't this beautiful, I wouldn't need you. Seeing you now bespells me, that is all. I can't seem to move, or breathe, or remember why you're there, why you're looking at me like that, as if you see through me to the wall behind me. The rain is gathering on your lashes, falling down your cheeks, but it looks like you have never shed a tear in your life. Maybe I'm glad, but when I look into your eyes, I'm not, not when you look at me like that. I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry....
Because if you weren't this cruel I couldn't hate you, and I need to... Don't I? Is that it? You want me to, you want me to be as brittle as the brick digging into my elbows, scraping against my shoulder blades. If you want me to, maybe I will. Maybe I can. Maybe I can be anything you need me to be.
And if you ever touched me, I would stand very still and let you go. I would look you in the eye, the grey flint sparking against my bones, digging deeper and finding things, all sorts of things I was trying to lose. I don't need them now. I don't need anything. Just stop looking at me like that.
I can't read a word of this new language, though it seems as if we've spoken it before. And this silence is so thin, I can put my hand through it, as though there's nothing on the other side. Like shapes in the mist, indecipherable, just beyond my reach. Blank shapes, slick and metallic and tasting oddly of blood. I can't bring myself to want to know, it seems. I don't know these streets, really, I can't find my way, and if you won't forgive me there's really nothing I can say. I can wait for you, even though there isn't time, no time left. I thought I told you....
I won't break. Do your worst. If you would stop this-- if you would break-- maybe you could, if you wanted. Break me.
Or just take this hand and lead me where you want us to go, I don't know anymore, because--
I think I finally see you-- I think I finally knew you, when your lips touched mine.
You didn't break me. You kissed me.
I didn't think it would be so easy.
~~
Maybe you hear a sound like something breaking, but don't stop. If it seems I cry out in pain, don't turn away, because I can't promise you anything, but the plain truth is, if you turned away now, there would be nothing to see when you looked back.
This is the turning point, this is where we make or break it, and honestly, I don't care, because beyond my fear and bewilderment and pain, I can feel the rain, slipping through my skin. Within me, there is only a rushing, a noise like water rising to the surface. Rising, flowing, calling-- blood to blood. I feel you there with me, and somehow it's different, denser, sharper. Like shards from an opaque window, shattering. Everything stops, and everything starts, and why do I feel smothered breathless and like too much air is forcing itself into my lungs, and I could burst or fly away or both.
If I stifle a cry, I'm just surprised the world hasn't ended. I'm still breathing, and so are you. Well, we're getting somewhere, then.
It's like I can feel the underside of this cloak of daggers, the secret hidden layer, turned inside out, rubbing my senses raw. You're furious and I'm barely conscious, and I have no idea what just happened, but-- maybe I do.
Or maybe I've half-drowned in the rain, and am dreaming this, all this, which I no longer have a name for.
Nor do I need a name, not like I need you-- without a thought to go around between us, without a breath, everything so brilliant and cruel in the darkness, so silent in the pounding of the rain. There aren't any words to describe this, encompass it, break it, or take it away. A dead end, impossibilities looming both ways. Still, I won't go back now. I can't go back, you see that, don't you? How can we go back like this?
And I don't just mean we'd die if we don't run. Not that I'm running-- not even now. Once, not so long ago, you'd have believed me, but now all I can do is just say it again. I don't understand anything anymore.
You are so cruel, and yet you show me beauty. I said I can't hear you, but this-- I never expected this. I thought I knew. I thought I knew you.
Maybe I didn't.
What can I say?
Thank you.
~~
some fan-art:
draco the weird ahahah. too yummy. he looks like The Fool, as in, tarot. i love that. &![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mawaridi's snogging!h/d watercolor. the one with tongues. mmm, tongues. someone should've thought of that earlier ><;;
the reason this amuses me, is just that it underscores that no matter what, people cling to what they know, whether or not they want it, or it's what they would like best, or even if it hurts them the way it is. at least it's familiar, and you can trust that for sure, it's real, and it's not going to disintegrate under your feet. especially since there are... `rumors' that cassie is just `teasing' us h/d-ers. which isn't true, if this was a long-planned plot point. i really doubt any author worth anything would do things just to get a squeal out of the audience. it's a silly thing to do. also, it's not very angsty, heh.
personally, i'm with aja on the idea that -harry- is going to have a real reaction. and i don't even care, because it's bloody obvious they're in love even if they -don't- get together, really. there are -so- many slash stories where you don't get as believable of a bond between characters who are supposed to be head-over-heels and so on. it's funny that everyone's scrambling to cling to their previous positions though, still. even i! i mean, my previous position was that, duh! they love each other and no fic can be this heavy on subtext by accident. ahem. it's not like jkr, where she's so spare with characterization, the subtext is ripe for the imagining. here, everything is very much defined. so yah. people are funny.
gah. Trilogy non-love scares me. i mean, i rant about ooc characterizations and so on, but really, my favorite fics? aren't all that in-character. because when you -really- flesh out these characters and really go someplace interesting with them, you can't help but leave behind canon, to a large extent. i mean-- i can honest say all my favorite chaptered fics are varying degrees of being ooc. some, glaringly so.
what's the most in-character chaptered fic, then, to use as a standard?
i can't think of anything worth putting across right now. they're all differently flawed. they're all -brilliant- in their variations, but none of them are jkr's character-clones in any way, shape, or form. this is just chaptered fics, mind.
EDIT: hmm. just occurred to me that i think `sins of the father' is going in that direction. a weird choice (semi-obscure anyway), but yah. so far.
so that's sort of silly. i do rant about oocness, but usually that's because it's also overly sweet or unrealistic in general, and not very well-written. you can't even -have- a well-written draco paired with harry, in a semi-hopeful relationship, and have him be jkr's draco, as of the fourth book. granted, the Trilogy wasn't supposedly trying to pair harry & draco (hah!), but it -was- trying to write a whole 3 books about him, and well-- canon!draco wouldn't sit well with that sort of attention. *sigh* but anyway. defending the Trilogy is about as stupid as ranting about its badness. so i won't. except to say, i don't see how you can love harry & draco and dislike it, because their love sort of drenches it like ... like some sort of buttery drench-ey thing ^^
ahem.
Disclaimer: yah, right.
Warning: *laughs* don't let the slash bug bite you.
A/N: inspired by Draco Veritas 11. guh. I'm not saying this is what I predict, or what I want. Maybe it's just what I feel from it, through it, about it.
guess I thought I could never feel
the things I feel
~~tori amos, `hey jupiter'
~~~~~~
~~~~~~fuse.
~~~~~~
I see you first behind my eyelids, coming into focus. Slightly blurry, your edges dancing, smudged with rain and shock and distance. It's not really the glint of silver in your hair, sharp as a knife between my ribs. It's not the slash of your mouth, which must be cutting you just as it's cutting me. Before I ever heard you, I knew it was you because suddenly, it was as if a thousand street-lamps had switched on. Why is it you have to blind me?
Sometimes it's easy to think that if you weren't this beautiful, I wouldn't need you. Seeing you now bespells me, that is all. I can't seem to move, or breathe, or remember why you're there, why you're looking at me like that, as if you see through me to the wall behind me. The rain is gathering on your lashes, falling down your cheeks, but it looks like you have never shed a tear in your life. Maybe I'm glad, but when I look into your eyes, I'm not, not when you look at me like that. I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry....
Because if you weren't this cruel I couldn't hate you, and I need to... Don't I? Is that it? You want me to, you want me to be as brittle as the brick digging into my elbows, scraping against my shoulder blades. If you want me to, maybe I will. Maybe I can. Maybe I can be anything you need me to be.
And if you ever touched me, I would stand very still and let you go. I would look you in the eye, the grey flint sparking against my bones, digging deeper and finding things, all sorts of things I was trying to lose. I don't need them now. I don't need anything. Just stop looking at me like that.
I can't read a word of this new language, though it seems as if we've spoken it before. And this silence is so thin, I can put my hand through it, as though there's nothing on the other side. Like shapes in the mist, indecipherable, just beyond my reach. Blank shapes, slick and metallic and tasting oddly of blood. I can't bring myself to want to know, it seems. I don't know these streets, really, I can't find my way, and if you won't forgive me there's really nothing I can say. I can wait for you, even though there isn't time, no time left. I thought I told you....
I won't break. Do your worst. If you would stop this-- if you would break-- maybe you could, if you wanted. Break me.
Or just take this hand and lead me where you want us to go, I don't know anymore, because--
I think I finally see you-- I think I finally knew you, when your lips touched mine.
You didn't break me. You kissed me.
I didn't think it would be so easy.
~~
Maybe you hear a sound like something breaking, but don't stop. If it seems I cry out in pain, don't turn away, because I can't promise you anything, but the plain truth is, if you turned away now, there would be nothing to see when you looked back.
This is the turning point, this is where we make or break it, and honestly, I don't care, because beyond my fear and bewilderment and pain, I can feel the rain, slipping through my skin. Within me, there is only a rushing, a noise like water rising to the surface. Rising, flowing, calling-- blood to blood. I feel you there with me, and somehow it's different, denser, sharper. Like shards from an opaque window, shattering. Everything stops, and everything starts, and why do I feel smothered breathless and like too much air is forcing itself into my lungs, and I could burst or fly away or both.
If I stifle a cry, I'm just surprised the world hasn't ended. I'm still breathing, and so are you. Well, we're getting somewhere, then.
It's like I can feel the underside of this cloak of daggers, the secret hidden layer, turned inside out, rubbing my senses raw. You're furious and I'm barely conscious, and I have no idea what just happened, but-- maybe I do.
Or maybe I've half-drowned in the rain, and am dreaming this, all this, which I no longer have a name for.
Nor do I need a name, not like I need you-- without a thought to go around between us, without a breath, everything so brilliant and cruel in the darkness, so silent in the pounding of the rain. There aren't any words to describe this, encompass it, break it, or take it away. A dead end, impossibilities looming both ways. Still, I won't go back now. I can't go back, you see that, don't you? How can we go back like this?
And I don't just mean we'd die if we don't run. Not that I'm running-- not even now. Once, not so long ago, you'd have believed me, but now all I can do is just say it again. I don't understand anything anymore.
You are so cruel, and yet you show me beauty. I said I can't hear you, but this-- I never expected this. I thought I knew. I thought I knew you.
Maybe I didn't.
What can I say?
Thank you.
~~
some fan-art:
draco the weird ahahah. too yummy. he looks like The Fool, as in, tarot. i love that. &
mawaridi's snogging!h/d watercolor. the one with tongues. mmm, tongues. someone should've thought of that earlier ><;;
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2002-12-09 10:56 pm (UTC)like yah. i didn't think it was very DV. and i couldn't pin it down, but it didn't click for me, even though i wrote it.
well...
obviously it's not because i think harry loves hermione.
i mean, he does, but then, draco loves hermione, and hermione loves draco, and such...
and harry loves draco and vice versa, i'm pretty sure. anyway, with these last few chapters, the clubs definitely didn't have h/h written on them. if anything they had h/d written on them.
have you noticed???? i mean... harry is downright adoring, in the hospital and with the letter and with the memories of telepathy and the way draco just -crumbles- after harry leaves and cuts himself and reverts to his old coldness, and so on.
and then there's blaise's observations, and the gates of hell speech, and, and, and ~:)
i mean, usually in h/d stories they only love each other, but it doesn't necessarily cancel out h/d for me, just because harry loves hermione, because nothing can compare to how he feels about draco, love isn't even enough.
but yah, i noticed lots of little deviations that weren't DV-esque, because it just came out in a rush and i was going more for feeling and not stopping to remember plot stuff.
of course, it's going to be fun seeing the fall-out from the way -cassie- does h/d, because i'm pretty much convinced that's what she's doing :D and obviously, i'm always right >:D<
there's just-- lots of little clues, from cassie and from the text lately. being featured as slash on the `armchair' also helps ^^;;
but no amount of the Trilogy turning slash is going to turn my ficlet more DV-like, and that's ok~:)
thanks for the perspective though >:D