i just wanted to put the plot bunny out there

Samsara (Part 2/3)

Summary: Sakura’s words die in her throat as the man’s eyes shoot open, and the coldest red irises she has ever seen meet hers. She is hit by a wave of terrifying certainty about two things right then – that she knows these eyes better than any other and that, if he wanted to, this man could stop her heart with just a look. [SasuSaku Festival 2017 – Day 15 – Prompt: “The Biggest Gesture”]

Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author’s own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. You will be squished by a Susanoo wielding demi god if you are found plagiarizing.

Warning: Spoilersfor pretty much everything up to Naruto Gaiden.

Canon-Compliance: Takes place during the Blank Period.

Fanon-Compliance: Takes place several years before An Inch of Gold and Unplanned.

AN: So, I decided I didn’t feel like waiting to post this. It’s unedited, but I will put up the edited part as soon as is humanly possible. Also, although I had originally planned for this to be a two-part fic, my plot bunnies decided to hit me with a bunch of other plot possibilities. So it’s probably gonna end up three parts. Therefore, if you want to read the continuation, you guys’ll just have to follow on my blog or something once SasuSakuFestival is over. I hope to post the next chapter within the week :P



Sasuke repeats the name slowly, sounding out the syllables as if the word is completely foreign to him. There is a deceptive calm in his voice, as if he is putting every shred of his considerable concentration into not reacting to Sakura’s tale.

“It’s…it’s not exactly a common name, is it?” she murmurs tentatively, hanging on to that tiny shred of hope that’s taken root since she awoke in a terrified sweat.


They regard each other in heavy silence. Neither knows quite what to make of this development.

“Do you…” she begins, then pauses, because the question is utterly ridiculous and there’s no possible way… And yet. “Do you remember any of it?”

She doesn’t know what exactly Sasuke saw or experienced when he interacted with the Sage of Six Paths, whether the transfer of his chakra also meant a transfer of memories. It’s not a time they speak of very often.

“No. Whatever I knew that day disappeared quickly,” Sasuke tells her quietly.

“Oh.” She wraps her arms around herself. “So why am I dreaming this then? If anyone should be dreaming about you – past-you – it should be you. Or Naruto even. Unless –” She peeks up at him. “Maybe it’s my past life?”

“Then why are you only experiencing it now, after everything we’ve seen?” he counters, the calm from earlier giving way to something sharp.

“I don’t know,” she admits. “It does kind of seem like something the Sage of Six Paths should have mentioned when we all met. But what else could it be? It’s like I’m her, Sasuke.”

Sasuke’s eyes narrow in contemplation, jaw clenched and she swears she can hear him grinding his teeth. She reaches out – it’s instinctive to want to comfort him, even though she’s the one who woke upset – and places a soothing hand on his shoulder. The other automatically covers her still flat stomach.

Sasuke’s eyes follow the movement, and then snap back to her face.

“The dreams didn’t start until you found out you were pregnant,” he says in a low tone.

“It’s possible,” she allows.

“That’s the connection,” he muses, almost to himself, staring into the distance like he is seeing something she can’t. “He is the ancestor of the Uchiha…you’re carrying the next generation…it has to have something to do with that.”

“You really think so?” Sakura asks. The idea is unsettling.

“Do you have any other explanation?” he replies, almost harsh. The calm from earlier has begun to erode.

“Well, no, but we can’t just jump to conclusions,” she reasons. “Maybe it’s just…maybe every woman in your clan has dreams like this. Or…or maybe only women who are about to give birth to someone of Indra’s bloodline. Or –”

“Or maybe it’s because I’m Indra’s reincarnation that it’s happening,” Sasuke interrupts, running a hand across his face in agitation. His right eye flickers briefly between red and black. “Of course, we’ll never know for sure and there’s no one to ask because –”

“Sasuke, stop,” she cuts him off, taking hold of his hand. She squeezes it, trying to transmit some sense of calm, despite the fact that his obvious panic is frightening her. She has never seen him lose composure like this, and her immediate instinct is to put a stop to it. “It’s not something worth getting worked up about. These are dreams. Dreams that might not even be real, and are probably just my mind shoving together a bunch of information. You know, odd facts I know about you and me and maybe some of the plot from that horrible romance novel I was reading. If it helps, I’ll stop reading it.”

“Sakura –”

“Let’s not worry too much about unwanted commentary from dead people, okay?” She makes a face. “And that is a sentence I never though I would say.

The look Sasuke gives her now is equal parts awed and disbelieving.

“You are taking this remarkably well,” he says, sounding almost accusing.

Sakura tosses her hair. “I told you, didn’t I? The day we met the Sage of Six Paths? Nothing will ever surprise me again.”

Keep reading


#all i can see #is geeky!stiles having to tutor jock!derek in something #and he’s always doing like twelve things at once but somehow still helps derek understand things somehow #and he makes nerd-flirty jokes about covalent bonds and he does the sleazy eyebrow thing #and derek is like what because he’s really introverted and focused on his sport and what school things he DOES get #because he’s not stupid just something about chemistry doesn’t click for him #but he doesn’t really understand that stiles is hitting on him even though he’s starting to develop a thing for stiles #and he notices the way stiles plays with pens nonstop and chews on them #and how he always has like thirty tabs open on his laptop and a comic book and a game of angry birds on his phone #and how stiles never actually stops moving #but none of it is as distracting as stiles’ lips when he smiles #and somehow #stiles actually helps him pass #(with flying colours) #and he’s like ‘well looks like you don’t need to associate with me anymore’ #and derek’s like wait what #and stiles walks away because he thinks derek hasn’t actually NOTICED him #and derek chases him down and asks him out for coffee

anonymous asked:

The fandom's treatment of Mary bothers me. Every time she makes a teasing gesture she is a Vindictive mean bitch, yet people ignore the double standards that Sherlock is one of the biggest dicks on television. People will automtically dismiss her as merely a tool, a character designed to be hated. She's evil. We fucking hate her. Moriarty's evil. We fucking love him. It is the most sexist double standard, and it's slowly making me despise the fandom, and how awful it CAN (not always) be.

I don’t understand why people who despise the fandom (the ENTIRE fandom?!) stick around. Like life is short, Anon. Go take a walk. Talk to people at a cafe. Pet a furry animal. Enjoy a lollipop. Dance. Don’t waste one second of your precious time on this earth despising. Sheesh. Use your block button.


But. If you want to THINK about the situation instead of just grousing about it– well there’s fun to be had.

Here’s another Mary ask from @master-of-mediocrity

There’s something about Mary…

Most of the characters on Sherlock are deplorable people, aren’t they? The three principles are all murderers. John murdered somebody he didn’t know for somebody he’d just met after he just discovered that said new BFF did drugs, but we call that a sign of twooo wuv and a token of his bamfness. 

There’s plenty of suspension of disbelief with regard to Sherlock and John. They’re allowed to operate in a fictional world with fictional mores. Moriarty, too. We love to hate him. (Well I love to love him but that’s me.) But there is a weird phenomenon where legions of people hate Mary for moral reasons. Why? They act as if she’s a real person operating in the real world. I mean let me repeat myself for a mo. John murdered a man for another man he’d just met and who he’d just learned did drugs and who had a very disturbing relationship to the police and human eyeballs. John and Sherlock share a morality.

Moffat: If Sherlock Holmes decided that somebody should die, he would kill them. I don’t think he’d have any problem with that. (x)

Viewers accept this without pause. “Aw smol gay bb Sherlock isn’t a mean old sociopath.” Reality: Sherlock keeps severed heads in his fridge. See everyone in story is all like “Same shit different day.” They’re more bothered about the mess than the dismembered human part. The characters around Sherlock and John tell us what is ok and what is a bit not good. Which is all fine because FICTION.

But Mary is a different matter altogether. We’re told in story by Sherlock himself that Mary’s shot was surgery yet many people in the fandom seem unwilling to accept this. Why? Because Mary came in and broke the spell of the closed fictional world of Holmes and Watson. We’re forced to recognize that we’ve chosen to suspend disbelief

It’s uncomfortable. Viewers (especially Johnlockers) hold Mary to a different ethical standard– “thou shalt not kill” applies to her in a way it simply doesn’t to Sherlock and John

But a big part of this equation is that the audience reacts to John’s displeasure, shares his rage. But keep in mind he’s not really pissed off that Mary shot Sherlock– everybody has bad days. He’s pissed off because SHE “wasn’t supposed to be like that.” John doesn’t care to know Mary really– he burns the AGRA stick. “Problems of your past.” He doesn’t even want to know her real name. She’s not actually a human to John. (see arsehole TAB!John.) She’s a plot device. It’s SHERLOCK who gets to decide what’s “a bit not good” and what’s acceptable.

So why is Sherlock cool with murderous Mary?

There is a VERY VERY good ACD canonical reason why Sherlock wouldn’t have an ethical problem with Mary shooting him. I’ve written about this before. Basically my point is that HLV is a redo of ACD’s “Milverton” which holds the biggest canon clue to Holmes’ moral compass.

Everything starts with Doyle, and we always go back to him when we’re lost. Really, it’s taking his ideas and seeing how they would work NOW. That sometimes has surprising results. -Steven Moffat (x)

So let’s look at Doyle.

“I have said that [CAM] is the worst man in London, and I would ask you how could one compare the ruffian, who in hot blood bludgeons his mate, with this man, who methodically and at his leisure tortures the soul and wrings the nerves in order to add to his already swollen money-bags?”

I had seldom heard my friend speak with such intensity of feeling.

-The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton

Sherlock to John:

SHERLOCK: John – Magnussen is all that matters now. You can trust Mary. She saved my life.

Mary is the equivalent of the ruffian in the Holmes quote. She didn’t set out that night to kill Sherlock. She did it in hot blood. I mean the ramifications of the shooting were all Sherlock’s fault if you think of it correctly, right Moffat?

Here’s a good one:

Moffat: …suppose Sherlock hadn’t blundered his way in that night? [Mary would have] just have shot Magnussen, gone back to being Mrs. Watson – and not only that, they’d have carried on solving crimes together, with this lethal killer nurse wandering along behind them, picking off anyone who might put them in danger. That would’ve been the show. (x)

So who is Mary most like, who does she mirror the most? It’s a round robin really. 

Here’s Moffat on Magnussen:

Moffat: That sense of entitlement… It’s what brings CAM down of course, that it doesn’t occur to him that Sherlock Holmes might just shoot him. He hasn’t factored that in. He doesn’t think people can do that. (x)

Sound familiar, Sherlock? Mrs. Watson? Our consulting detective thinks the fact that John put a ring on it is his trump card. Well, why not? That reasoning worked on Sholto. (”We wouldn’t do that to John Watson…”) MARY IS NOT SHOLTO.

Sherlock doesn’t think Mary will shoot him just like CAM doesn’t think Sherlock will shoot him. But both Sherlock and Mary are totes capable of surprising people with guns.

No. hard. feelings.

Let’s take another approach to Mary. Again from Mofftiss:

In the original story, villainous blackmailer Charles Augustus Milverton is eventually murdered by one of his victims, while Sherlock’s Charles Augustus Magnussen is shot by Sherlock himself.

Moffat: If you read [The Adventure Of] Charles Augustus Milverton, Dr. Watson in the opening paragraph tells you that he’s about to tell you a porkie. He says, ‘I even now must be very reticent.’ I think what Doyle is hinting at is that Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson sat in Baker Street and said, ‘Right, we’re going to have to go and kill him, aren’t we? That’s the only way we can do this.’ So they break in, kill him, and then Dr. Watson writes up a version of the story that puts the murder [on someone else].

Gatiss: They’re hiding in their burglar masks behind the curtain, and this random woman comes and shoots Milverton in the face and then grinds her heel into his face. It’s odd, isn’t it? So I mean really, it’s just an extrapolation of saying, ‘Well, he probably did it, I think.’ (x)

This is so very fanfictiony of the authorgods. In Doyle canon we have this mysterious bad-ass murderous (Victorian!) woman who appears out of nowhere and goes all deus ex machina on the situation. So why not… I dunno… narratively meld the bludgeoner and the putative lady assassin? Mary is a narrative device. Plot bunny anyone?

We’ve got hints of big drama (not a spoiler) coming in S4– Ella’s back. Possibly Olivia (possible spoiler- don’t know if that’s confirmed) reprising her bit role. Balaclavas galore. Here’s the thing. MOFFTISS MAKE LIBERAL USE OF PLOT HOOKS. They ALWAYS leave room for themselves to maneuver in future scripts. Just like most other fanfic writers do. People want to ascribe intent and forethought to them when there’s so. much. evidence. to the contrary. I can tell you– and you don’t have to believe me– that THEY REVISE KEY PLOT AND CHARACTERIZATION POINTS DURING PREPRODUCTION AND SOMETIMES DURING

This is incredibly interesting given Sue’s choice of director in Rachel Talalay. A feminist. Like Loo. We can’t trust the guys to write a script that isn’t full of mansplain’in (the TAB reveal) and, frankly, racist misogyny. (Soo Lin, a fragile China doll.) And Lovering and Hurran made a curious jumbled mess of Mary so much so that we have no idea what to make of her and we fight about it. (To be fair nobody had Moffat’s HLV script early enough to make her character coherent.) But Rachel’s had the time to think about Mary. If Mary features prominently in the S4E1 script RT’s going to portray Mary differently than a dude would. No doubt. AAAAAAND it’s Gatiss’s script. He is nowhere NEAR as proscriptive as Moffat who I guarantee you hasn’t written his script yet. This is a case where what happens to/with Mary is basically plotted out but the NUANCE of how Mary’s story is handled might very well be heavily influenced by RT, somebody who knows a thing or two about depicting strong women as complex characters not just plot devices. She can certainly teach Mofftiss a thing or two

Here’s a perfect example of how Mofftiss have been schooled by a feminist (Loo) in the past:

[The character] that surprised both Mark and I…the one that took us by surprise and sort of lept up was Molly Hooper played by Loo Brealey who was really a one shot deal in the pilot just a device to indicate that Sherlock Holmes has no real interest in women and is a pretty cold and deadly sort of character. She was played to utter perfection by Loo Brealey and instantly Mark and I were sitting at the monitors going we’ve got to get her back and she’s REALLY hugely developed as a character. She’s never a massive presence in the episode but because of Loo’s wonderful performance… (x)

Loo didn’t have a backstory to work with but Miss Hooper was an open book. As an actor Loo created Molly’s demeanor in such a way that Moftiss could play with it. Loo made Molly somehow real. Amanda didn’t have the luxury of knowing Mary’s backstory when she did TEH and TSo3. Most actors want, you know, to know their character’s motivations. She fumbled as Mary imho partially b/c Amanda wasn’t given what she needed as an actor. Let’s see what Amanda and Rachel can do with Gatiss’s script


So there ^ are some different ways of reading the Mary situation. And yeah- some of the vitriol is sexist for sure but there are other things at play here. The narrative functions in such a way that these particular responses to her aren’t isolated. A lot of people hate her for various reasons. Let’s examine them. 

haru-no-hikaru  asked:

Pilot, how do I actually get started writing? I've read a bunch of books on writing, but every time I sit down to actually do it I get incredibly bored. I always feel like I'd have a lot more fun reading the story I'm trying to write. And instead of writing any of them, I just keep coming up with more and more plot bunnies and fleshing them out in my head instead of writing them down to share with others.

I understand that comepletely, in fact that is more my default state than anything else. I cant tell you how many fics Ive written in my head and never put down. and the versions of chapters i put out are almost never what i intended. I often just want to READ the idea i have, not do all the work to get it down.

imagining the scene as complexly as possible tends to help me. Think of every single thing this one still image needs to be alive.

its a backyard, okay good, we know that much. your story starts in a backyard. where? that changes how it looks. Its cool, not cold, but cool, the sky is over cast and its raining gently. there is a stone patio with a slight dip in the concrete where a puddle has formed. the kids of the family had been playing out there in the summer with bubble blowers and the sop had long since dried, but in the rain it gives all the puddles a gentle purple sheen that changes. grass grows in the cracks, and the wind chimes hanging from the old wood rafters give off gentle hollow chimes. Water drips through the metal tubes and joins the puddles as they form. water too can be seen dripping down the wood supports, through cracks and give in the wood, and drifting lazily down through the almost completely forgotten paint job. It must be fifty years old at least. There are chairs, simple plastic and white, cheap. Five dollars each at most, but they dont discredit the area. Just makes it feel… homely. They are dirty, scuffed, but slowly being cleaned by the rain. The canopy overhead is incomplete, and everything is slowly drenched. There are a few dry spots left under a dirty glass table, the wind hasnt brought rain to those last few places yet. If you were an ant perched beneath the great expanse of glass, it would look like you were beneath the surface of a lake, dry and peaceful. 

now heres the thing all that just came out of my ass? like just now. it wasnt beautiful or well written, it was just descriptive. not even so much that, but complete. i offered pieces. 

every single story is a collaboration between a million different facts as you determine them. It is your job as the author to connect them and make them relevant to each other. 

there are wind chimes and old plastic chairs, mismatched with a nice glass table.


because grandmas been gone for some time now. the windchimes were hers and she had such nice matching patio  furniture. but they got old, and replaced by those who inherited the house. when new chairs were bought it wasnt with the same care or passion, but it wasnt done with malice. it was just different now, as are all things.

there were three things that i established. the chairs, the table, and the windchimes. 

what made them a story was making them relevant to each other. 

if you’re having trouble, dont write a story, describe an image. there are stills in your brain of people and rooms and street corners. describe them, and then make them relevant. every movie is made up of a million still frames, so craft the frames and make them relevant to each other. using this mentality helps me tie things back. 

i can say “a desk, white and elegant, inherently simple but clearly well made. it isnt destroyed but it clearly isnt respected as a expensive or valuable thing. It holds an equally as impressive computer, a dozen or so scattered paper, a calnder, a mousepad, a few idly chewed pencils, and an intricate glass ornament with a single gold looped string, placed very particularly and with the utmost care. One might even say fondness.”

out of all those things you can make a story. This is the desk of Adrien Agreste as I’ve decided it, and i made one object important. the ornament from Secret Santa. If youre stuck and looking for inspiration, imagine a single image as detailed as you are capable. an expression and everything it means. the color of someones eyes. the way people on the street react to a slight chill in a gust of wind. 

it can help with inspiration, and progress what makes the story tie together. it can also help keep you interested.