#(i mean 'beautifully tragic' in a fictional sense)

[witsserviceablesubstitute]

What if I said this scene with Edwin:

Is visually referencing the first piece of queer cinema, Salomé (1923):

What then?

[yamujiburo]

Some of this might sound intentionally hostile in text and I apologize.

I'm saying this as an abuse survivor mind you - don't throw "abusive ships" under the bus so easily - at least, so long as they're not actually glamorizing the abuse. I lived that irl and I personally find someone overcoming it, slowly having enough of that bullshit and getting out over time, and the other person having to wipe their own butt for once after they've made the damn mess, very refreshing. Maybe that's not a ship in the traditional sense. It's no happily ever after bc it shouldn't be, but I find stories like mine shyed away from so often because even the portrayal gets considered a "canon ship". ... that's just how media works now, I guess? I very rarely See a fictional relationship not called a ship in literally any context now so that's the definition I'm running on.

I wish more people were willing to portray the hardships of finding acceptance outside of "whoever you can find will accept you" very much, and finding the better things after. I wish people weren't terrified out of portrayimg situations like mine.

Jessie.. is not a good person in canon. You expect me to believe she moved into to hanamusa seamlessly, without falling on her ass? I never see you talk about Jessie's abusive tendencies in canon. You never talk about the inherent meanness she needed to get over to get there. She's quite aml lot like my ex in canon, actually.

What do you mean you're going to just remove from the character that she is abusive to those around her. Jessie hits people. She takes her own junk out on others all the time. Do you even like the character then, are you actually invested in her growing, or are you just making an OC at this point?

Idk. Do you, boo. But you are posting about a character who, whether you like it or not, is canonically abusive. I just don't buy that dating Ash's mom alone fixed her. That isn't... How that works. It would be excellent if it did. Part of my love of hanamusa is that it signals Jessie's change - but she could have changed for anyone before now.

What makes Delia different? How is she specifically a turning point for Jessie? Because Jessie's flaws go well beyond just bossing people around.

I would love if my abuser had the same outcome as your Jessie. I adore your portayals of hanamusa, where she's still flawed but still strives to do better. That's all I ever wanted from my ex.

What the fuck got her there tho.

Anyways I've been watching a lot of Bojack Horseman lately -

I agree with you! I don't think abusive relationships (or any tough subject matter in general) should be shied away from in media. It can be powerful when executed well and written by folks who are equipped to tell those kinds of stories. I do think it's sad when people treat it as off limits. But the ask I got was definitely more about which ships I have where I actually like the relationship between the characters. I think the semantics of the word "ship" are kind of vague or rather, over time, got so specific to only mean "absolutely love together and want them as endgame" (for most people anyways). So that's usually what I take the word to mean when people ask me about it.

I can 100% appreciate how an abusive relationship is written and handled, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna ship an abuser with their victim (that falls into the glorifying you're talking about). Love Bojack Horseman! Big fan! I think the way they handled Bojack and Sarah Lynn was beautifully and tragically well written. But does that mean I ship Bojack and Sarah Lynn? Absolutely fucking not.

I've talked about Jessie's character plenty on this blog and the way she's handled in earlier seasons specifically. This is kind of a summary: If we look at it on surface level, yes we can say she was abusive. But I think it's important to acknowledge and take into account the medium, time period and culture. Slapstick and cartoon violence was HUGE in anime and animation in the 90s (and prior to that too). Characters were always cartoonishly slapping each other around with giant mallets, folding fans, etc. Looney Tunes style. These slapstick bits were always distinct from real abuse and hurt (for Pokémon, Jessiebelle comes to mind). Mean slapstick wasn't a character trait exclusive to Jessie either. We saw it in Misty, James, Meowth, characters of the day and pretty much any character who got mad. It was a visual shortcut to show anger.

This type of slapstick has since (thankfully) died out and it hasn't really been a part of the Pokémon franchise since the early 2000s. However, Jessie was a notably special case. One of my favorite fun facts about the Pokémon anime is that there was a point in the series where Megumi Hayashibara (Jessie/Musashi's seiyuu) told the writers that moving forward, she no longer wanted Jessie to be violent or to be shown hitting James or Meowth (source: her memoir "The Characters Taught Me Everything"). She thought it directly went against the vision Takeshi Shudo had for Jessie, James and Meowth, when he created them, which was that they are good natured villains. If you watch from DP and on, Jessie never lays a hand on either of them. I think it was a such a good move on Pokémon's part to change her character like that and I'm forever grateful that Hayashibara said something! Whenever I write Jessie now, I always keep that in mind. She's mean, shouty and stupid but would never genuinely hurt those she cares about.

From then, her character becomes much more bearable. She's still bossy, mean and vain (typical cartoon villainess attributes) but I'd hesitate to say abusive. She'll still yell at James and Meowth, they all yell at each other, but in more of a sibling way (imo) rather than a "i'm actively trying to hurt your feelings way". The show makes a point especially in later seasons to show that Jessie, James and Meowth are not beyond being redeemed. From conception the whole POINT of the Team Rocket trio was that they are redeemable but their persistence and obsession keeps getting in the way of them seeing that there's a better life for them out there.

I won't deny that Jessie was unsavory in earlier seasons, but when I write her, I choose to write the version that Takeshi Shudo and Megumi Hayashibara had envisioned from the get go. She's still incredibly flawed and makes plenty missteps but wants to be better as you stated! My favorite part about Jessie is that she's a piece of shit LOL and I enjoy writing the changes she goes through to be better (but then still showing her default so some of her evil tendencies). In this AU, Delia doesn't fix Jessie. Jessie fixes Jessie because she is with someone makes her want to be a better person. She's already in the middle of turning over a new leaf before even meeting Delia, after leaving Team Rocket. Writing Jessie as legitimately abusive I think could work, but that's not my story to tell and if someone who were more equipped to tell that story did, I'd be very interested to take a listen!

I hope this doesn't come off as trying to deny or invalidate your experience. If you see that in Jessie, I hear you! This is just how I've interpreted her character over the years, having watched every episode of Pokémon and reading Japanese interviews from the cast and crew. She's such a compelling character and I love how messy she is

[gffa]

What is omniscient readers viewpoint about? I tried to check the tag but all I got was violence and mpreg?

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint is a bit hard to sum up, in the sense that I'm trying to avoid spoilers for a lot of you, but also because it's a very meta novel in a lot of ways, BUT BASICALLY: An average, unremarkable salaryman type of character (Kim Dokja) has been hyperfixated on a webnovel for the last ten years, of which he is the only reader. On the day of the final chapter's posting, he gets a thank you from the author, a downloaded text file of it, and WHAM suddenly the novel's events are happening in real life, he has been reverse-isekai'd into this post-apocalyptic novel coming to life. This allows him to understand the video game style rules of this new world from the start, this allows him to know what kind of scenarios (basically "quests" and "subquests") will be thrown at him, allowing him to gather a team of people that will help him survive and allow him to gain a ton of in-scenario currency and "win" all the scenarios thrown at him (because he abuses his knowledge horribly), all while avoiding the protagonist of the novel (Yoo Joonghyuk) who is a regressor, which means he's lived through these scenarios before and is SUPER powerful and is tunnel-visioned about surviving them, so he will kill anyone who gets in his way. Meanwhile, Kim Dokja (who has been alone all his life, who has a terribly sad and tragic backstory) slowly starts to actually care about the people he's gathering to him, they come to love him, so he has people who genuinely love him for the first time in his life, who don't want him to just sacrifice himself for them (and this is a big, big theme in the story), so you get some really good found family dynamics in there, too. This is all just set-dressing, the real plot of the story is about the nature of readers and our relationships with fiction, that it's a complicated but ultimately so meaningful dynamic, that we the audience are "part of" the story we're reading, all dressed up in a SUPER "this isn't BL, but you'd be forgiven for thinking it was at first" dynamic between the two most prominent characters. (Because Yoo Joonghyuk is the protagonist of the novel he read, the character that Kim Dokja felt he traveled with side-by-side for ten years, the character that allowed him to continue getting up and living one more day, to see the end of his journey, so even if he's a murderous bastard, he's also the character that Kim Dokja felt he literally lived for.) It's a funny story (because Kim Dokja is actually a horrible gremlin, he's awful and I would die for him), the webtoon is beautifully done, it's found family, it's meta commentary on readers and stories, and it's intriguing worldbuilding.

[thegirlwholied]

fellow period-piece swooners, I have a movie rec for you and I am downright flexing my hand about it. and I am sorry, so sorry, that you cannot watch it right now- because I attended the world premiere at TIFF last night and apparently it's still seeking distribution which means unfortunately there are no gifs yet for me to reblog - but this is your notice to keep a weather eye:

the movie is the Widow Clicquot. the plot is champagne!

...not the celebratory spritz and spray of it all, but the dedication and innovation and passion and knowing-your-taste-and-insisting-on-it of getting bubbles to be just the right size and fuck Napoleon's embargos actually...

also, the people expressing opinions about Napoleon are a British cast pretending to be French - which I guess appeals to the piece of my soul that is Les Mis.

it's beautifully filmed in a way I specifically associate with Pride & Prejudice 2005... which makes sense given the director, Thomas Napper, directed the second camera unit on P&P 2005 & Atonement & Anna Karenina & etc. Joe Wright, who directed those, is a producer here (and was on stage last night & I had no idea who he was whoops).

there's a scene of exploding champagne bottles that may haunt me forever the way the floating cotton in North & South 2004 does. that & the vines.

to quote Taylor Swift, "it's giving cinematography."

the Widow Clicquot herself is played by Haley Bennett (who has been in many things I haven't seen...yes I had to imdb Haley while sitting in the row right behind her but) who I have seen before in Music & Lyrics! As Cora Corman! "Way Back Into Love"! & "Buddha's Delight"- I believe in karma (la, la, la)

anyway she's great in this - the Q&A host after called her performance "transcendant", not wrong - she had a SAG-AFTRA waiver to be there, and thankfully because this was very apparently a passion project throw-everything-you-are-into-it role for her. And her post-movie quotes speaking both about the character's passion and her own- "do something that makes you feel like a goddess!"; "do what you love and let it kill you"- made me a fan.

the Widow Clicquot's dead husband? Tom Sturridge, The Sandman himself and playing just as much a dream as Dream (note: I do not promise "dreamy" I promise "dream" which can also have adjectives like "wild" and "fever" applied). You need a good voice when leaning on some voiceover from letters/memory for a character; he sure has it.

but. Sam Riley. aka Mr Darcy from Pride & Prejudice & Zombies, and Maleficent's hot raven (and looks even better in this imho)- his character is Louis Bohne, Veuve Clicquot's wine merchant, and as much as the Widow herself, his character made me go, "I need to read the book" to learn how much was history v fiction there.

the character dynamic was: damn, of course you're cool with your husband's libertine BFF/possibly-lover, you're secure and he's such fun company.... your husband's tragically gone but his friend helps you out & appreciates your true love of the vineyard without overstepping... well. get yourself a friend you can both giggle with over how hot the new foreman is (Leo Suter filling a historical-eye-candy role) ... AND hook up with yourself. you go girl, & bless your hot bisexual heart fictionalized Louis Bohne.

(hottest kiss in cinema off the top of my head is always the Timothy Olyphant & Jennifer Garner first kiss in Catch & Release. But some scenes here flirt with that level, & it was the Widow/Louis scenes for me).

the sound alone made this one worth seeing in theaters; sounds were so well used (maybe when a movie is so much about taste, & you can't convey taste through a screen, you double down on the senses you can) and it was scored by Bryce Dessner from The National (whose brother has been collaborating on Taylor Swift's recent best tunes)-

the Widow's name is Barbe-Nicole and not to make a Champagne Barbie reference but this hit in the spot Barbie also reached for, in a subtle way, with the effortlessly close relationship she has with her maid (Lizzie from Peaky Blinders! thanks imdb, knew I knew that face) and the woman in a man's world of it all - obviously one who created a successful dynasty of champagne and how did I never know how instrumental women have been in creating champagne as we know it, about to jump down a historical rabbit hole here-

+ also. grief. "you don't understand. he wasn't just someone's first love". an early line + the one that stuck with me.

anyway. not to say I think it's a perfect movie (there were a few "wait I need more information" beats that left me feeling like I *need* and not just want to read the book)... and it didn't make me think "this better be up for an Oscar" (One Life, with Johnny Flynn & Anthony Hopkins which I saw Saturday: made me cry & should be)- though I think it could be for sound!... and I don't know if I'd say it's the movie I enjoyed the most (Flora & Son, out Sept 29) or learned the most from (Paul Simon documentary, all 209 minutes of it, probably takes that of the 4 films I saw)-

But it's the one I'm writing this post about. & I'm going to get the book. It made me want a bottle of Veuve Clicquot champagne. & to go to the champagne region. & to see gifs of it on my dash, immediately. & I would read fan fic if there was some- it built the characters and its own movie world enough for that, with enough space left to wonder- and when a movie can do that, it thrills me.

anyway Tumblr, or at least the side I always land on. I think you'd like it. I think it's your kind of movie too. and it's filled with a lot of love from people who clearly loved making it. here's to independent productions and the unions fighting for fair deals to make a living doing what they love, here's to feeling like a goddess, here's to gorgeous period pieces and gif makers of scenes to come, here's to the author in the audience who got to see her book on screen- and the movie star who got it made and all of us still working on making our own art into something that can be seen someday. Here's to the passion of creativity in whatever shape it takes, pour the champagne 🍾🥂

[scribble-dee-vee]

5 Lines Tag Game

Tagged by @somethingclevermahogony!! Check out his lines here.

Your lines are: A joyful line, A line with temperature, A line with fear, a funny line, and a line with color

A joyful line:

“I can still play the damsel in distress, if you’d like.” He’d appeared so swiftly, and so silently, that Jamie gave a panicked squeak. I leapt up from the table. Charles still wore riding clothes. His auburn curls were ruffled by the wind. I embraced him, unable to help myself, making some embarrassing noise between a yelp and a sob. He smelled of horse and rust. I drew away, clutching his forearms, assuring myself that he was real. His lips were dark and full, beautifully shaped to his smile, but I couldn’t kiss him here. Later. Later, all night, or as long as he’d let me. “Hi,” he said, with the hint of a laugh.

Your honor they are CUTE they are BOYFRIENDS let them KISS 😭

A line with temperature:

He didn’t say any more. He didn’t acknowledge me with any look or movement, but I felt his focus drape around me like the snow. I wasn’t cold. I wasn’t burning. He’d made a space of stillness, not hazy like the inside of the Club, but pure and clear. We stood close enough that I could feel his body heat and sense his arm trembling. But we did not touch. We watched the snow fall.

HeheheHEHEHEHE (yearning stage of fictional romance my beloved)

A line with fear:

I hurried across the factory floor, between the many worktables, to cuff him. He didn’t resist, but he started crying as the locks clicked tight. “I’m not one of them,” he said. “I’m- I’m loyal to Order, I’m trying to help you-“ I yanked him up by the chain and pulled him down the steps. “You look like a nice girl.” It sounded like begging. “Pretty girl. You won’t drag me off to the Imperial Quarter for visiting the wrong place at the wrong time. Please. Please. I promise, I promise, I’m not one of them-“ “Be quiet,” I said, “until we question you.” He twisted hard against his bonds. I jabbed him in the throat and swept out his legs, and his body smacked against the hard floor. I stood aside as he fought to catch his breath.

Owie

A funny line:

Jamie stood, saluted, and hurtled into the stacks. I heard her crash between the shelves, dropping volumes, announcing her departure to every half-deaf Academic in the building.

Idk if this is funny out of context, but I do enjoy that this woman is a Looney Tunes character trapped inside a tragic fantasy novel

A line with color:

The room was drenched in blood. I froze, but- no. It wasn’t gore. Just glossy, crimson paint. Everything was shocking, lurid red, from the sumptuous chaise lounges to the glowing taper candles to the glasses and the drinks. Every possible shade of ruby, scarlet, and vermillion pervaded the floors and the curtains. Even the fireplace on the left wall burned dusky red, through some mysterious chemical means.

The Rosehip Club!!! This place Sucks but it's Pretty

Tagging: @illarian-rambling, @poethill, @dove-actually, @jezifster, and @tabswrites, if you wish. Also, tag is open, as always!

For your 5 lines, try to find: a line describing liquid, a line with regret, a line with darkness, a line about food, a line with a lie

[saltynsassy31]

Idk how to put it but I really love it when toxic relationships are romanticised-- STAY WITH ME GUYS

But not in the "Oh I wish to have a relationship like that" or to romanticise it in a way that's good

No, I love it when it is fully acknowledged that it is incredibly fucked up, toxic, awful and ugly, not something to strive for but as something bad, ugly yet entertaining to watch

We romanticise villains as they kill and murder innocent, faceless, bystanders/background characters, but not in a "I wish they were real" or "I condone what they do"

No, we acknowledge how fucked up they are but still love them

And that's how I feel about romanticising fucked up (oh my god please don't tell me I have to emphasis this but FICTIONAL), toxic relationships (also, when BOTH are toxic to each other are my faves)

It is the beautifully ugly part of humanity, how someone can get so obsessed with another human it becomes disgusting, it sends chills down my spine

They are #relationshipgoals in a joking way like "he's my little meow meow" way, if that makes sense???? Listening to that perfect tragic romance song that makes your hair raise, chilling to listen to, the obsession, the desire

We all have that, though we don't crank it up to 100, but...what if we did?

And like, my favourite trope on that is the obsessed villain who's in love with the hero, and their dynamic is absolutely awful and tragic to watch, yet its like a car crash you can't look away from

Does any of this makes sense???? Does anyone else relate to this or am I just insane?????

Also, I think it's better I put it here instead of tags but I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT MEAN THIS IN IRL SCENARIOS, the whole point is that I enjoy it in a fictional, safe scenario, where no one actually gets hurt, with fictional characters and all, I just like it when these stuff get explored

It's my guilty pleasure fkskaka

[tr4sh-hive-3]

Hello, *world! (re: *tumblr)

no, the title does not make sense. fitting for my first post. this is gonna be a long one, so fasten your seatbelts honeys and allow me to take you on the thrilling ride through my various inner turmoils and tragically unrealistic aspirations!

I hate myself. with my heart, soul, and mind, I hate every fiber of my being. logically, I know I’m probably not that bad (maybe), but logic doesn’t mean shit to my stupid brain. I don’t like hating myself. I find it makes it much harder to be happy and I do enjoy being happy. sometimes. actually, I think when I’m feeling “happy”, I’m really just feeling empty and stale. wowza, that flipped around fast. I hate being happy. I hate not being happy. I hate being alive. I hate wishing I was dead. I hate talking to people and I hate being lonely. I hate everyone and I hate that they hate me. I hate myself. yay~

I have this really weird self esteem thing where I overthink everything relating to my mental abilities. I hate hate hate the part of me that seems to have this stupid elitist complex based on my intelligence. I’m sorry, I should stop talking about hating things. what I mean to say is there’s a part of me that only cares about getting smarter and having everyone know I’m smarter than them. I feel absolutely amazing when someone praises my intelligence and like complete shit when I’m wrong about something.

if you’ve read those last two paragraphs, you now know that I (not saying it) myself and my sense of self worth depends entirely on my own perception of my intelligence. now that you’ve got the basic rundown of my inner turmoils, let’s get into the tragically unrealistic aspirations.

I’m an artist. I’d like to consider myself as such. to be an artist, one must create art. I don’t really do too much of that. I’m not really an artist. I draw, sure, but I’m not very good at it. and everything I write is shit. take this text post for example. it’s got no flow, no rhythm. I don’t know what that means. are texts such as this supposed to have a “flow”? I think I’m incapable of gauging the quality of my work. I’m incapable of defining anything related to me. I don’t know what I look like. my physical features are always shifting. sorry, that’s more turmoil, isn’t it? let me (try to) tell you about my dreams.

I want to create a world. a universe. not a D&D fantasy map the size of Manhattan, I want it to put those little wimp dicks to shame. big, sexy, and full of endless niche crevices to get lost in. I want to write a big-ass 12 book series following a beautifully layered character aged 12-24. I want to make comics, cartoons, movies, video games, all that shit in this one uni(multi?)verse. I want people to fall in love with it and make their own head canons that I can (legally) declare canon. wouldn’t it be cool as hell if other people actually liked what I made so much that they made fanart or wrote fanfiction for it? I would die. I would actually just pass away over the motherfucking rainbow if anyone ever did something like that for a thing I made.

that was a lot less depressing than the last few text blocks. I promise I’m not that miserable most of the time. just when I’m venting into the unforgiving void.

let me tell you something fun—

humans create what they consume. read fiction? get ready to be gripped with the urge to write fan fiction, or worse, your own books. watch cartoons? get ready to find pencils forcing themselves into your shaking fist, yearning to make sweet, sweet, love to your paper and make beautiful fan art babies. if you consume media, you’re a hell of a lot more likely to become interested in the creation of that media, and eventually in creating similar media yourself. which is good; because it’s a lot easier to have fun making something when you have references.

I’m not so interested in books, cartoons, video games, and stuff. I think it’s because I have moderate to severe depression and instead of being gripped with the urge to write fanfiction, I’m usually just gripped with the urge to kill myself. I’m very interested in being part of several fandoms and essentially having a gargantuan online family. I vibe heavily with that idea. I know that I can enjoy consuming that sort of media, because I’ve done it before. I remember some years ago when I wasn’t so mentally ill; I remember devouring books and rotting my brain with cartoons like they were cocaine. I remember the crazy strong rushes of serotonin I got from rereading the same sentence for the third time just so I could fully appreciate it. I remember how I could get addicted to a show and the anticipation I felt during the seconds between hitting play and the intro. I know I can feel that way again because others can feel so strong they write millions of words out of love for it, spend hours on drawings and cosplays to share with their online family just because they love those stories that much. I want to feel that way. I want to feel like I can create out of love.

that’s probably one of the reasons I want to make that big, sexy world. I want to make others feel that way. I keep talking about this feeling like it’s so abstract. there’s probably a word for it. I hope there’s a word for it.

have you formed any opinions on me yet? are they good? I hope they’re good. I happen to be very self conscious of what others think of me. If I’d want you to feel anything about me, I’d want it to be a sense of kinship. I find that’s a very nice feeling to have. especially for a complete stranger. well, I suppose we’re not much of strangers now that you know some bit of my deepest heartaches and wildest dreams.

would you like my name now? I’m gonna give it to you anyway.

hello. please, call me Pan. I hope we can be friends.

[pranklinfierce]

The post really makes you introspective. The line about "we can't be friends. Especially if you can't remember a time before the internet," (paraphrased) sticks out a lot to me. Its not the "we can't be friends part," since I haven't developed a parasocial relationship. But the second part always makes me pause. It makes me question any perspective or authority I may have perceived myself to have on anything. It's easy to, when you're in a certain mood, disregard certain things. Like, "who the hell cares, old people suck" attitude. I have been distancing myself from that attitude over time, as I feel more of a distance from my own generation (not that I'm special) and feel more respect toward "wiseness," I guess. I guess I don't really have any respect toward one generation over another, but rather individuals. Which I suppose is how it should always be. Anyway. I think the part of the post got to me because of this embarrassment around my own attitudes and feeling generally silly about my own age. I've gone on age rants before. But this is just how I feel about my age, my lack of perspective, the fact that I live a life so devoid of the hardship that make people human. Its incredibly stupid to wish for hardship just to feel like you have more of a personality. You see that with rich middle schoolers going to get drunk and shit just so they can create a problem because they're bored. They're compensating for their lack of personality by creating problems for themselves because it's easier to define yourself by the tragedies you've faced than develop a real identity or accept that you're yet to have one. I think that's also why so many people fall back on labels. Because it's scary to not have something to categorize yourself by. Not that knowing who are and applying the appropriate labels is an issue in any sense, but the problem comes in relying on them for everything you do and say and think in life. Idk, identity politics, blah blah.

I got off track. But all I was saying is that the line struck on a issue I have with myself and caused me to face that, even though I condemn those who create problems for themselves, there is something perversely appealing about having problems? It's why so much fiction written by youth/targeted toward youth has characters with dead parents or some terrible tragedy. Sure, almost all books rely on some problem the character has to face. But it's the type of tragedy that makes the characters so interesting and appealing to those who don't experience those problems. They're living vicariously through the characters and pretending their Mary Sue is living this beautifully tragic life that makes their life more complex and fascinating.

I got off track again. Expressing what I mean is difficult. Maybe it semi-made sense.

Julius' in-depth post hurts sometimes because he's right

[liyazaki]

the twist of a knife

"I am the knife. I am all blade.” -Clementine von Radics

falling down symbolism rabbit holes isn't really my bag. unless it's laid out for the audience in crystal-clear terms that "yes, X was indeed meant to mean Y" (by the writers or the script itself), I don't dedicate much mental energy to those elements in my fiction.

but something about that knife- the visceral image of Pete gripping it by the blade for dear agonizing life was haunting me. I kept circling back to the opening conversation on the bed, and the moment where Vegas' rage went up in smoke- and again, that knife. then it hit me.

like knives forged just so, no one can hurt Pete or Vegas quite like they can. and not just because of their mutual vulnerability, their love, for each other- like @ellaspore said to me, how deep they get under each other's skin.

it's their fundamental struggles, their shame, who they are at their core: if people can be 'made' for each other, Vegas and Pete were also made just so to perfectly hurt the other.

the first blow came from Vegas. lying together in the afterglow, of all the things Vegas could say, he said: "you're just a fool." just four words- pretty benign-sounding, all horrible things Vegas has said before considered.

Pete didn't have some explosive reaction, either. and that makes sense- a quiet knife slipped between the ribs is too exact, too surgical for all that. instead, Pete turned his face slowly away from Vegas, suddenly lost in his thoughts- while Vegas, still grinning in lighthearted ignorance, followed his movement with his hand, stroking Pete's face. Pete's far away now, though, his gaze focused on the ceiling.

we start to see the damage when we cut back to Pete later. Pete- who just last episode was chastising Vegas for "being stupid" for hurting himself- now slaps himself in the face. "I don't like it. so why didn't I say no?"

the killing cut was delivered when Pete's worst fear- that all of this loss and fear and pain was for nothing- was confirmed by Vegas' attack. there was no righteous rage left in Pete, hollowed out by the realization that he "has nothing left."

in his compassion, in his curiosity about this wounded, broken man- he's afraid he's lost everything. who he is, what he stands for, his self-respect, his pride- he's been stripped bare. not just by everything Vegas has done to him, but by the depth of his feelings for him in spite of it all.

that one little phrase, those four little words from Vegas cut to the heart of Pete's fears: he's not only lost it all, some of those things against his will- but the rest was by his own submission. his own volition. the definition of a fool.

on the other beautifully-tragic side of the coin, Pete cut Vegas at his emotional knees in a way no one else could. even after abusing Pete, beating him, treating him so inhumanely- darkness can only run from the light for so long. Vegas found a sliver of genuine happiness just by having Pete in his sphere.

after a lifetime of wretchedness, of thinking this misery is all life has to offer, that there's no way out- Vegas' world started to crack open for the first time in that room.

seeing Pete completely lose his joy, his humanity, his will to keep going- and knowing that he was the one that caused it- was the only thing that could snap Vegas out of his rage. and it was the reality hitting of losing him that nearly broke Vegas. he is the monster- just like he always feared.

it's also not just the idea of ruining this man he's come to love- it's the ruination of hope. of a different way of living, existing, being. no one else could deal as deep of a blow- even though Vegas himself is really the one that dealt it.

and yet- and yet. just like the agonizing way Pete let that blade cut deep into his palm, invited it, even- they can't help but hold on to the sweet agony of their connection. even after freeing himself from his imprisonment, Pete is breaking apart. Vegas is leveled, shattered by his grief. they weep, they mourn- the cuts bleed.

sometimes, love is as much about grief as it is joy- to know that in a world that hurts so deeply, so frequently? the most vulnerable, aching parts of you are at another person's complete mercy.

that they hold your heart in their hands, and you can't just take it back. there's rage there, sometimes- shades of desperation, too.

horrible, beautiful, cruel, agonizing love- like the twist of a knife.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Mia Deserved Better: An Analysis of RE8's Themes/Symbolism

Foreword: I would like to thank @lepusrufus for posting about both Mia and Miranda, and at one point directly saying that Mia deserved better, which is a large part of what caused me to start examining her role in the canon story. Now, I will say that this post, like some of my previous explorations of Village (such as my attempt to determine Donna's age), will not be the best organized. My ADHD makes such things rather difficult for me. However, I have tried more than usual, and have broken up this "essay" into several distinct sections. Still, I am worried that my thoughts will not be as concise or coherent as they were inside my head.

Under read-more for length and spoilers for RE8: Village.

Introduction:

Village is, inarguably, about parenthood. Is it a horror game? Yes. Is it also science fiction? Also yes. But is it still, at its core, a story, and therefore contains imagery, symbolism, and themes? Yes. Now, you may be wondering what this has to do with Mia deserving better. My proposal is as follows: While Village is overall about parenthood, it is more about motherhood than fatherhood. Furthermore, Mia's background + actions from the previous game tie her story directly with Mother Miranda's, making their potential interactions massively important to the story... and could have served the theme beautifully. The missed potential in her involvement in the story is honestly a little bit absurd.

Now, let's examine each of the Four Lords + their sections, as the beginning of analyzing the game's theme.

Lady Dimitrescu + Castle:

Ah, perhaps the clearest (albeit unimportant) bits of theme within the whole game. We are immediately presented with another parent, with three daughters she loves very, very much. Initially they work as a team to capture Ethan, easily overpowering him. When they do split up, each still has dialogue regarding their family members. Each of the daughters expresses a desire to be like their mother/make their mother proud. Lady Dimitrescu herself gets very upset every time one of her daughters perishes, and delivers some important dialogue about this in her final confrontation with Ethan.

To paraphrase, Lady D says that Ethan has done something unforgiveable, caused damage that can never heal, and deserves to die before his daughter. That last part is interesting, in the sense that Lady D seems to believe that outlasting your own child is a fate so terrible that she would not wish it upon anyone, including the person who killed her daughters.

Throughout her dialogue and actions, Lady D serves as an important figure of a living mother. What do I mean by that? Well, the only other mothers we see in game are Mia and Miranda. The former doesn't show up until almost the end of the game (seeing as the "Mia" at the start is not actually the real Mia), while the latter does not have a living child, and her behavior has (presumably) changed quite a bit since that loss. As Ethan goes through Castle Dimitrescu, he watches (he causes) Lady D to go through what Miranda did all those decades ago. When we see her loss, when we experience her loss, it is something we connect with, even comparing it (as Lady D does) to Ethan's loss of Rose.

For the more visual side of symbolism, we can turn to Lady Dimitrescu herself. She is very tall, is visibly older than the majority of the Village cast, and has a fairly classic (old-school) motherly look. Everything about her reinforces her position as an example of a mother, especially when she's with her daughters and becomes such a strong figure of protection. Her height allows her to seem the caretaker for her children, even though they are scary/intimidating in their own right.

Donna Beneviento + Waterfall House:

Yes, the baby/fetus/monstrosity is part of this. No, it is not the only bit of thematic work in this section of the game.

To begin, you can find out that Donna is officially the adopted daughter of Mother Miranda. Her birth parents are dead, implied to be from especially tragic causes (more than is the norm when it comes to "orphan making"), and she has suffered greatly from it. We see that she has been seemingly neglected by Miranda, and is incredibly isolated. The tragedy of her loss, along with the consequences presented by it, are something to keep in mind further down the road, when we inevitably deal with Ethan's own death.

One of the consequences of the environment Donna was raised in is, arguably, her reliance on Angie. While interpretations of their exact relationship (aka how much control Donna actually has at any given point) vary, the two very clearly have something akin to a mother/daughter vibe. Alternatively an older sister/younger sister sort of thing. This shows in the way that Donna holds/carries Angie, as well as the contrast in their demeanors. Moreso, the fact that Donna gave a part of herself to create Angie is almost enough to make the symbolism nonnegotiable.

We also see that Donna has a strong understanding of family/family dynamics, through the way that she uses her powers to manipulate Ethan. She dissects his connections to Mia and Rose, taunts him with the lengths he's willing to go to save his child, then shows him a grotesque version of parenthood: The aforementioned fetus monster. Does the monster represent Ethan's fears, or Donna's?

What if the monster is how Donna sees herself, in some way, perhaps thinking that it's her fault her parents died? Bit of a stretch, but it's not a keystone of my theory, so I'm just throwing it out there. We could, however, go a step further and ask ourselves if Donna has noticed the way Miranda neglects her, and the fetus monster is how Donna thinks Miranda sees her. A baby, true, but grotesque, so terribly imperfect compared to her "real daughter" (Eva, obvs).

Regardless, the monster presents an ugly side of parenthood. It shows us the blood, the hunger (with the way it repeatedly attempts to swallow Ethan whole), the wailing. If Lady D shows us the love of parenthood, the bond, Donna in turn shows us the hate, the misery. Everything that one must endure to reap the rewards of family.

Lastly, we get one last bit of symbolism with Donna's death: We play a game with Angie. A childhood classic, hide and seek. Ethan chases her down repeatedly, stabbing away, seemingly only hurting the doll. But what happens when he kills Angie? It turns out that he killed Donna. You kill the child, you kill the parent. A reinforcement of the connection that comes with parenthood, along with another notch in Ethan's family-murdering belt (not saying that he's the "true antagonist" or anything, just keeping track for one of my later points).

Moreau + The Reservoir

Let's get the worst possibility out of the way: Moreau, weakest and sickest of the four lords, lives in a reservoir, where he is relatively safe. To defeat him, you have to drain the water, forcing him onto dry(ish) land. Paired with the main ideas of his section (which I will detail after this nightmare), one could theorize that he's meant to represent birth itself. Again, he's safe in his ("womb") water, and becomes vulnerable when he leaves (like a fragile newborn). Kinda gross, in my opinion, and also not a strong enough connection for me to care much about. It was merely an interesting (albeit horrifying) enough thought that I felt it warranted sharing.

Moving on to the big stuff with Moreau: He's a baby. Evidence: Whiny, has difficulty moving around, struggles to adapt to his growth, throws up a bunch, loves his mother very much, cries for his mother when he's in trouble, etc. Although Mother Miranda does not care for him, he clearly cares for her, and plays yet another role of an abandoned child (like Donna). Without Miranda there to protect him, he perishes terribly, crying out for someone who does not care to answer.

Hearing him cry out for Miranda, over and over, only for her to continue ignoring him is a key piece in the build-up to our confrontation between Ethan and Miranda. The game, in many ways, centers around the comparison between the two. In my humble opinion, Mia should have been involved in this comparison, as opposed to supplying the solution to the result of said comparison. Yes, I know that was a lot of words that don't mean much yet, but trust me, I'm getting there.

Heisenberg + The Factory

Ironically, of the four lords, Heisenberg is the most similar to Mother Miranda. In his massive factory, he is alone except for his numerous experiments, the results of decades of playing God. In comparison to Ethan + Mia, Heisenberg represents artificial parentage, or more accurately, the artificial creation of "life". While the others Lords also performed experiments, they used living subjects. Heisenberg instead chose to use corpses, which he then "brought back to life" with cybernetics + his powers, a somewhat futuristic version of Dr. Frankenstein.

Together, Miranda and him show a rotten side of parenthood (whereas Donna + Moreau showed us the uglier side of the children themselves). To put it simply, they are bad parents. They throw their "children"/experiments into the fray, uncaring, using them as pawns for their own greater gain. The most important part of this is that Heisenberg offers to "help" Ethan: By using Rose as a weapon. In his act of refusal, Ethan demonstrates one of several important distinctions between himself and Mother Miranda. Where she is willing to use her "children" (read: lives that she is responsible for) as tools, he is not.

Miscellaneous Symbolism/Imagery:

The old hag is one of my favorite parts of Village. She's seemingly nuts, has a crazy old lady laugh, wears bones that make soothing bone noises when she moves, and she draws lots of symbols in the dirt. If you look closely (I can provide screenshots if anyone desires, but it will take a bit of work to get them onto my computer), she's drawing one of the most iconic images in the titular village: The winged unborn. This symbol acts as the key you build up after every fight with a Lord, understandably called the Unborn Key (which turns into the Winged Unborn Key). Whether this counts as foreshadowing towards the hag's identity reveal is technically irrelevant, but I like to think it does.

In essence, you build up the key, this depiction of an infant, to progress in the game. The more wings it gains, the closer you are to your goal of rescuing your child.

The cadou itself is very clearly fetus-shaped. Furthermore, the only place within the human body that we know it ever gets implanted is in the "tummy" (thanks Moreau), aka roughly where someone's womb is/would be. Every infected person we see presumably had the Cadou implanted there (though I think it would be interesting if implanting it in different spots caused different mutations. of course, that is a discussion for another day). To become immortal, you have to "bear" a "child". Does it get more direct than that?

Mother Miranda gained her immortality in part for her grief at the loss of her child. She embodied the despair that Lady D spoke of, becoming an eternal source of anguish. Just as the loss of a child is a wound that lasts forever, so too would Miranda last forever (well, until Ethan comes along).

Mia is a loving mother, who puts up with the BSAA making her move across the world, deals with the complications of having a mold husband and mold baby, and has proved herself (see her section in RE7) to be an immense badass. Previously I had forgotten that, and even embarrassed myself in the comments of another person's post by implying she wasn't a tough, ass-kicking machine. Y'all remember feral Mia? People talk about "poor Ethan's arms", but sometimes we forget that Mia was one of the people who did a number on them. Furthermore, she's one of the only living people (from outside the village) to have any connections (pun intended) to Mother Miranda. They worked together, although possibly not directly, on Evelyn. If anyone in Village has a chance of really understanding Miranda's plight, or knowing the truth behind it, it would be Mia. Yet we don't see them interact a single time. Which leads me to the next section...

Conclusion On Theme + Missed Potential:

Okay, okay, so it's pretty obvious at this point that, as previously stated, the game's theme is parenthood. Every section has its symbolism, the story is very obviously about a man trying to rescue his daughter, etc, etc, but what's the point? Is there a lesson, or a more focused interpretation of the central theme? Let's take one last step back, and focus on something I've mentioned a few times now: The comparison between Ethan and Mother Miranda.

Recurring dialogue from Ethan, Alcina, and Mother Miranda all point towards the developers acknowledging that the characters are similar, but there's nowhere near as much conversation about it as I would like. Several times we have the antagonists ask Ethan how he's so willing to kill someone else's child, or prevent them from (essentially) doing what he's doing (aka saving his daughter). While Ethan responds with a mix of "well you started it" and "aghhh fuck-a-you, bitch", there's a much more solid, unspoken difference: Mother Miranda sends her underlings to kill, so that she may revive her daughter. Ethan kills (read: does the work himself) to get his daughter. The difference is much bigger, and more important, at the end of the game, when we realize just how far it goes. Ethan dies to save his daughter. Time and time again Mother Miranda has killed others for her work, but in the end she is stopped when someone willingly dies to stop her.

Where does Mia come in? Mia, the badass mother, the one who once worked alongside Mother Miranda, should have been the nail in the coffin. She is the one who survives, who lives on to raise Rose, she is the silent solution to Ethan's sacrifice. Miranda, you fool, what could you have accomplished if you had held onto your makeshift family? Through Mia (and Chris, to a lesser degree), his "loss" becomes a victory. There's a certain poetic justice that comes with Rose's full family being instrumental in saving her, when Miranda so readily spurned her own family.

Mia could have had an actual conversation with Miranda, their history giving the latter a reason to actually listen. I'm not saying that Miranda would have changed her mind/plans, but the conversation would have been a well-needed contrast to Ethan's "arggg what the fuck is happening, I only have two reactions to things. agg fuck you". Additionally, I feel that Mia (who was captured and had to endure who-knows-what) deserves the opportunity to be the one who points out Miranda's mistakes, who delivers the final "fuck you" to her. More than that, she's the one at the end who can say that hey, maybe she can understand some of what Miranda did. Was there anything her and Ethan wouldn't have done to save Rose? As much as Ethan is a foil to Miranda, Mia could (and should) have played a similar role.

When so much of the story and symbolism revolves around Miranda's experience as a mother, it only would have been fair to shine a light on her equivalent. Her better.

There's more I wanted to say/feel like I didn't properly get across, and I might add more to this at some point, but it's 5:40 AM right now, and I'm starting to feel like my brain is slowing down, so... Feel free to reblog/comment and add your own thoughts!

[tarisilmarwen]

RobStar Week 2021, Day 6 - Formal Night

(Have a RobStar/BBRae double date for this prompt as a two for one special!)

---

"Do we have to go to this?" Beast Boy whined, fidgeting a little as Raven straightened his bow tie.  "Can't we just like, video conference in or something?"

"Metropolitan Society of the Arts hasn't quite nailed down simulcast technology yet," Robin said in explanation, helping the changeling into his dinner jacket.  "We could watch the livestream, but it'd be really laggy, and we'd lose connection more often than not."  He brushed Beast Boy's sleeves off when he was done.  "Besides, this is culture.  It's good for you."

Beast Boy gave an uncertain whine, but made no further comment, as Raven withdrew to slip her faux-fur-lined shawl around her shoulders and Starfire moved in to futz with his hair, smoothing it down into a semblance of orderly flatness.

"Do you not like the opera, Beast Boy?" she asked him, making sure his hair was to her satisfaction before stepping back and tugging up her long gloves again.

"Never really been my thing," he admitted, reaching up and feeling the slicked-down hairdo.  "Always puts me to sleep."

Robin wound an arm inside Starfire's, his jacket sliding neatly against the silk of her gloves.  "I wouldn't blame you," he laughed.  "Opera is kind of an acquired taste."

Starfire beamed at him, her eyes sparkling.  "It reminds me of the poetic ballads we would perform upon royal holidays," she commented.  "I am very excited for this."

Beast Boy shrugged, grabbing up his wallet and shoving it into his back pocket before reaching to grab Raven's hand.  "Well, as long as you guys enjoy it, I think I can manage."

Raven gave a wry smile as she entwined fingers in his.  The contented feelings of love and happiness from their double dates were like a warmth on her senses, familiar and comforting.  Starfire's eager excitement and the anxious thrill racing inside Robin at the thought of doing something with her she loved never failed to make the empath feel... more at ease, somehow.

The looks of adoration they traded with each other, the casual level of comfort they felt... She and Beast Boy were still navigating their awkward newfound feelings for each other but Raven very much hoped they could reach that level of ease with each other.

Beast Boy did like to cuddle, so that was a good start.

She squeezed his hand encouragingly, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"I snuck your gameboy into my clutch," she told him.  "If you can stay awake until intermission, we'll sneak off and find a quiet corner."

He looked confused and bewildered a moment, but then seemed to light upon her insinuations.  "Ohhh, leave the happy couple alone for an hour, I get it," he said with a grin.

Fortunately Robin and Starfire were busy fussing over who was going to hold the tickets and didn't hear their private exchange.

*** Starfire's eyes were shimmering; she clutched hands over her heart as she listened with rapturous emotion, her Tamaranian powers almost haywire inside her with the strength of her feelings.

Beast Boy was snoring lightly in his seat, his head slumped over the top and drooling a little from his mouth, but Raven didn't seem to mind, leaned against his shoulder and quietly listening to the music with a faint smile.

Starfire could feel Robin's eyes on her instead of the performers, watching her reaction to every line, every moment, but she barely paid attention, so enraptured she was with the moving story and the beauty and technique of the singers' performances.

The main soloist was onstage now, pouring her heart out into a powerful aria about difficult love and Starfire felt herself ache for the poor fictional girl, doomed to forever be apart from the one she treasured and adored.

She clapped vigorously with the rest of the audience as the act concluded, peeking aside at Robin when he stood up, and doing the same.

"What is this called?" she asked, observing the same phenomenon from patrons down below on the floor.

"A standing ovation," he explained, saying it into her ear.  "It's basically used to compliment the performer, tell them they did a really great job."

Starfire beamed and clapped harder, joining the chorus of appreciation for the soloist, who stepped forward and took a quick bow as the lights came up.

Beast Boy snorted and startled awake, shaking his head and quickly wiping the drool away with his sleeve.  "What'd I miss?" he asked.

Starfire jumped into an explanation at once, her dress swishing around her ankles as she turned eagerly to Beast Boy.  "The heroine and her lover both snuck away from their houses for a secret rendezvous, in which they proclaimed their eternal affection for each other.  But the heroine's stern guardian found them out, and attempted to duel the lover to the death.  He barely escaped with his life and now the heroine has been locked in her room and has conveyed that she feels she cannot live without him."

"Oh."  Beast Boy scratched his ear.  "So pretty normal stuff, then."

"It was so moving!" Starfire exclaimed, her voice almost breathless.  "The lyrics of the aria were so beautifully poetic!"

Behind her, Beast Boy observed Robin, his eyes shining at Starfire like she was the beautiful piece of poetry.

He smirked a little to himself.  "Yeah I'll bet.  Hey Rae."  He nudged Raven conspiratorially.  "You remember where the bathrooms were?  I uh... kinda need to use the men's room.  Fast."

She caught on to his excuse, rising from her seat with him.  "Well don't pee on the floor, I'll get you there," she assured him, trying to hide her grin.

She quickly enveloped them in black energy and teleported them away.

***

He'd known Starfire was a sap—known for ages, really—but it still surprised and alarmed him when the Tamaranian princess burst into tears at the conclusion of another powerful number.

"Woah, woah, hey!" he said in concern, turning in his seat towards her at once as the applause filled the auditorium, almost drowning him out.  "Star, are you okay?"

She hiccuped, her breath hitching and stuttering as she tried to get her words out.  "It is just—so sad!" she managed around choked sobs.  "They can—never tr—truly be accepted by their families!"  Big wet tears were sliding down her cheeks, running the mascara Raven had so painstakingly helped her apply earlier that evening.  Starfire fumbled in her clutch purse for a tissue, her hands shaky, Robin eventually producing his handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing away at her eyes, worry pinching between his brows.

She looked at him gratefully when he finished, whispering a strained, "Thank you."

He nodded silently but sent an anxious glance back towards the door that led into their private balcony box.  Raven and Beast Boy had been on a long bathroom break.

Where the hell are they?, he wondered anxiously.

Turning his attention to his distraught girlfriend, Robin wrapped arms around her shoulders and waist, rubbing up and down her back, trying to soothe her back to emotional stability.  She calmed as he held her, her sniffles settling down, quieting into a somber ease.

"Sorry," he said.  "I should have warned you this one had a tragic ending."

"It is not that," she mumbled, hiding her face against his lapels now, vibrating the words against his chest.  "It is.. very silly but... these kinds of... melodramas about love and romance," she began, raising her head slightly, looking into his face with sad green eyes.  "It just brings up... old buried feelings," she said.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Starfire took a deep breath, wringing her gloved hands.  "For the longest time... I feared you did not have any desire to be with me," she admittedly quietly.

That stung like the knife the heroine had stabbed herself with in Robin's own heart, and he gripped her tighter, fiercely.  "I know," he whispered in apology.  "I was stupid.  I kept putting up excuses for why we shouldn't be together, and I hurt you with how long I stalled, afraid of my feelings."  He shook his head.  "Afraid of myself, of being vulnerable."

"That is not how you feel now," Starfire said with conviction, looking at him adoringly.

He grinned.  "Nope," he agreed.  "I can say it now.  I love you, Starfire, and I never want to be without you again."

Her smile cracked her face and she flung herself at him, capturing his lips with a kiss as the audience applause and cheers down below became deafening.

***

Raven had the audacity to look completely unbothered as Robin stalked up to her, with Starfire trailing behind, leaned up against the wall just outside the men's bathroom with her arms crossed casually.  Beast Boy sat indian-style on the floor next to her strappy sandals, thoroughly engrossed in his handheld gaming device, beeping softly as he mashed buttons.

Robin set annoyed eyes on them.  "And where exactly have you two been?" he demanded.

"What?" Raven replied, shrugging.  "Starfire gets a little overpowering on the senses when she's emotional.  I figured I'd spare myself the headache."

"Besides dudes," Beast Boy piped in, not looking up, "we figured you two could use some alone time.  You guys haven't been on a real date in ages."

"Is that what you were doing?" Robin pressed, still a little irritated.  He nodded his chin towards Raven's shoulder, where her dress strap was askew, down around her upper arm.  "Having alone time?"

Raven coughed lightly and surreptitiously reached to fix her strap and cover it over with her shawl.

"The sentiment is appreciated," Starfire spoke up, eyes soft but strained, "but I was looking forward to spending the time with the both of you."

"Well, the night's still young," Beast Boy said, standing up, his Gameboy loose in one hand.  "I'm sure we can find something to do that we'll all like."

"Oooh!" Starfire exclaimed breathlessly, turning to her date.  "Robin, there are newborn giraffes at the Jump City Zoo!"

"Sounds good to me!" Beast Boy said, immediately grinning.  "Rae?"

"Nice quiet evening with only a few people and lots of calm content animals?  Sounds up my alley," she quipped.

Robin had trouble finding his words for a moment, having been quite distracted by the warm golden chandelier light glistening in Starfire's red hair and the adorable eagerness with which she looked at him, and stammered a bit before his brain shook itself back into order.

"Uh... that's—I mean—uh... uh yeah, sounds—sounds good to me."

She gave him a peck on the check affectionately, amused by how easily she could still flummox him, and slipped her gloved arm through his elbow, settling comfortably into his side.

"Would we not be overdressed, though, in this attire?" she asked, slight worry wrinkling her brows.

"You should keep the dress on," Robin blurted, then blushed heavily and trailed off into babbling again.  "It—I mean it uh—it suits you, green always—uh it looks—it looks really great on you and—"

Beast Boy rolled his eyes.  "Ugh, they're like the model couple, it's disgusting," he commented aside to Raven.

"Revolting," she agreed with a smile.  After a pause she shouldered away from the wall.  "C'mon," she urged.

Giggling, Starfire tugged her still-blushing boyfriend along as the two couples made their way through the glimmering tiled halls of the theater towards the exit.

---

So I’m not saying that Raven and Beast Boy totally had sloppy makeouts in the men’s bathroom but... yeah I’m totally saying that lol.

[marshmallow-phd]

Scarlet Moon

Genre: Scarlet Heart Ryeo!AU, Time Travel!AU, Alternate History, Royalty!AU

Pairing: OC x EXO OT9

Summary:  This isn’t Gwen’s time. She was from the modern era, with technology and electricity. But during a solar eclipse, she’s transported back into a previous life in a time and place she does not know. Now, as the foreign daughter of a merchant living in a prince’s household, she must tread carefully, watch her back, and guard her heart. But with the princes locked in a battle over the throne, the chances of her making it out alive might disappear.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3

                                        ********

The bright sun felt warm against Gwen’s skin. Chae Ryung half-heartedly chastised her about burning her face, but Gwen hardly gave a listen. It felt like it had been years since she’d simply stopped and took in the light. All she ever did was go to work, do her schoolwork, and watch dramas. She never really took much time for simply… being. After a minute or so, Chase Ryung convinced her to keep walking through the courtyard, but she still went slow, taking in everything.  

The other servants would stop in the middle of their work and glance at Gwen in a fashion they might have thought was sneaky, but was, in fact, fairly obvious. Some gave looks of concern, others, it felt like, of awe. Gwen ran her fingers through her hair, the red catching in the sunlight. She stuck out more here than she ever did back home and it made her stomach queasy. 

“So, Chae Ryung,” Gwen finally said, “what is it that I usually do during the day?”

“All day?” she echoed. She pursed her lips side to side as she thought. “Mostly you keep Lady Hae company. She’s a bit lonely as Prince Suho’s wife. You’re the closest to her station here.”

Suho. An interesting name for a prince. I remembered Papa inquiring after the pale but beautiful woman in ornate clothing. “And she’s sick?”

Chae Ryung nodded sorrowfully. After looking over her shoulder, she lowered her voice as she leaned in. “Some are worried that she doesn’t have much longer and the prince still doesn’t have an heir.”

“Is it that bad?” 

Chae Ryung nodded again. Gwen’s heart went out to the beautifully tragic woman. In the single moment she’d met the Lady of the household, Gwen could tell that she had a kind heart. The look of worry and concern was etched in her mind, not a single twitch giving away possible deception. Spending her days with Lady Hae didn’t seem like too terribly a time. Perhaps she could be another person to lean on, to help Gwen when she stumbled. Because she would certainly be stumbling every other step in this place. 

Gwen and Chae Ryung wandered around the grounds for hours, the latter filling Gwen in on what she couldn’t put together for herself. 

Apparently, this Gwen had had a tendency to be a bit rambunctious, taking liking to archery just as much as needlework. Often, she would be caught joining in the servant boys in whatever rough game they were playing that day. Not exactly a good look for the daughter of a wealthy merchant. It had to be a comical sight, the horrified looks this girl must have produced from the other women around the household as a child. But over the last few years, she’d calmed to be a bit more demure. Chae Ryung went into explaining the wide gray area Gwen was given as an outsider. Though this girl knew the rules of society, she was able to bend them ever so slightly. 

Excellent. 

Coming up on the path was a pond, round and expanding, the edges lined with tall grass and fresh flowers that gave off calming scents. A family of little ducks floated on top of the clear water. Fish in bright colors of oranges and yellows swam freely, their tails creating the slightest ripples on the surface. As they walked around the water, Chae Ryung described a beautiful gazebo that this Gwen apparently loved to hide away in when she wanted to be alone. Disappointingly, though, the gazebo was already occupied by the Prince and Lady Hae. 

Looking like a happy but conservative couple, they drank tea together and spoke softly. Prince Suho smiled at his wife as he brought the teacup to his lips, but as his eyes drifted over to the spot where Gwen stood, the smile changed. 

It deepened, almost. An uncomfortable feeling settled in Gwen’s stomach. She smiled back, though, and waved, to remain polite. She was probably reading into things or misunderstanding them. Prince Suho held back a laugh before turning back to his wife. She still didn’t fully understand the dynamics of this world and could easily misinterpret his actions. And her head still slightly throbbed, so that could be clouding her thoughts as well. 

“It’s inappropriate to stare at a married couple’s private moments,” a high voice snipped. 

Confused, Gwen turned to find an elegantly dressed girl close to her age. Or, rather, this body’s age since this Gwen was a few years younger than the body she’d left behind. 

This new girl’s face was pretty, but it was destroyed by the snobbish and self-satisfied look she wore. Chae Ryung bowed deeply, but Gwen stayed erect. Bowing was not something that came as second nature to her and she didn’t want to do it for just anyone. Not surprisingly, this defiance deepened the annoyance on the girl’s face even more. Sensing danger, Chae Ryung forced Gwen into a bow.

“Greetings, Your Highness,” Chae Ryung said with a shaky voice. She gave Gwen a pointed glance that was ignored. 

“Apparently, not only have you forgotten your memories, but the few manners you ever had as well,” her highness sniffed. “I would be happy to be your teacher. Maybe we can make you a more respectful person this time around.” 

“Perhaps we have two different definitions of respect.”

It was subtle, but the girl’s smile strained, stiffening and tightening in the corners. Gwen knew that irritated look all too well from high school. The girls of the popular crowd would often shift into this body language whenever Gwen ignored their insults or countered them with a response they weren’t expecting. It had made her extremely unpopular, but that was never important to her. All she ever cared about was getting out and graduating. It was sad that mean girls had existed back in this time as well.  

“How dare you speak to me that way,” the girl hissed. “You think because you’re a freak of nature you can do and say as you please?”

“Just because I look different from you doesn’t mean that I’m a freak of nature!” Gwen shouted. Her nails dug into her palms as she tried to reign in the urge to respond physically. That particular subject had always been a sore spot for her. She didn’t think she was ugly, per se, but she wasn’t a beauty. Society’s standards, as ever changing as they were, always felt too far out of her reach. “Pretty” was not something she ever saw in the mirror. And, unfortunately, this body held the same face. 

“What is going on here?”

Gwen stiffened at the Prince’s voice behind her. Slowly, she turned around and bowed deeply. Prince Suho had abandoned his wife at the gazebo to investigate. She hadn’t meant to ruin his date, especially since they probably didn’t get many moments like this. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, Your Highness.”

Prince Suho looked past her to the girl and then back at Gwen. “Perhaps, it’s best for you to go back inside, Lady Gwen. I don’t want you to tire yourself out and I fear it might get colder. ”

Nodding, Gwen bowed again and walked away. There was no point in arguing. Besides, she didn’t want to hang around this self-important girl, who she didn’t dare give a passing glance to and give her the satisfaction of besting her. Once out of sight, however, Gwen’s bravado deflated. 

“Who was that girl?” She bit her bottom lip in a very unladylike manner as she slouched against the outer wall of a red-painted building. 

Chae Ryung tutted nervously. “That was Princess Yeon Hwa. You’re lucky that her brother stepped in.”

That girl was Prince Suho’s sister? Gwen shuddered, feeling sorry for Suho since he had to be related to her. “Mom always said I was too spiteful. But I wasn’t being disrespectful by looking for five seconds. They just looked like a scene out of a movie.”

���A movie?”

Oh, crap. There you go again. “A novel. I meant a novel. They looked like a scene from a book.”

“Oh!” Chae Ryung nodded, though she wore an expression of confusion. “Still it would have been better to apologize and walk away.”

Gwen shrugged. “Maybe next time.” 

Looking up at the blue sky, Gwen wanted to pout. It was such a nice day. Even with these layers of clothes, she wasn’t too hot and a nice breeze played with her hair. But Prince Suho had told her to go inside. He must have figured she would cause less trouble there. He also said it might get colder. Gwen hated being cold. 

“When I have to stay inside, where do I like to go?” she asked as she looked ot her friend. 

Chae Ryung grinned from ear to ear. She seemed excited as she took hold of Gwen’s wrist and pulled her along to a building near the middle of the compound. It wasn’t a large building, with spaces barely able to be called rooms. That hardly deterred the excitement bubbling up in Gwen’s chest. 

Inside were wooden shelves, thin and easily seen through. But unlike the thick, hardbound novels Gwen was used to, the books stacked here were thinner, flimsy and held together with twine. Another servant girl shuffled up before they stepped into the room. Chae Ryung was needed elsewhere. She urged Gwen to go on ahead and stay at the library for a few hours. 

Within the shelves, she lost herself. 

Reading was always a comfort to Gwen, but she tended to lean towards adventurous fiction filled with romance and challenge. She doubted she would find such stories in the Prince’s library. If she could even read these manuscripts. 

Gwen blinked, reflecting on her presence here. Somehow, she was able to communicate with the others despite the fact that they weren’t speaking English. The real Gwen’s knowledge - at least, with speaking and reading - somehow had remained behind. As her eyes drifted over the Chinese characters written on the spines, she understood what they said. A small laugh escaped her lips. She’d always wanted to know more than one language. All it took was being transported back in time to a different body. 

From what Gwen could make out of the titles of the volumes, they were mostly science based - medical treatments and catalogs of animals and plants - along with a few recorded histories. There were no fictional stories to be found, so Gwen went for the next best thing and grabbed a book that recounted the story of how King Taejo founded Goryeo. 

The wording was a bit dry and straight forward, the author giving only the occasional flourish here and there. Still, like any written word, it absorbed her attention. To receive a recount of history from a source so close to the time that it happened was not to be taken lightly. Gwen walked through the aisles as she read, unaware that another visitor had arrived. In the middle of a sentence about a deciding battle, her pacing was stopped by a soft wall. She looked up and sucked in her breath. 

Prince Suho.

She bowed, thinking that her back would start aching from all this bending over. “I’m sorry, again, for earlier,” she whispered. It was a sincere apology. Though it wasn’t her fault, she’d egged it on and caused the Prince trouble, which in turn could cause trouble for this Gwen’s father. Both men had been kind to her since she woke up and she didn’t want to repay that kindness by being a burden. 

Instead of acknowledging her apology, Prince Suho asked, “Do you really not remember anything?”

Gwen shook her head, unable to meet his eye. She could feel his gaze seering onto her face, however. Warmth tickled at her cheeks and she hoped that it wasn’t a visible heat. The Prince was handsome, with a strong chin and kind eyes. He spoke softly.

“Do you remember why you were at the bathhouse?”

Gwen snapped her head up, confused. Why would he be asking her about a bathhouse? “The bathhouse?” She knew nothing about a bathhouse or what this Gwen would be doing there. 

He sighed. “Truly?” Did he not believe her? Did he think she was faking it to avoid getting into trouble? 

“I-” she stopped. Would she be punished for something she didn’t even do? She tried to be as sincere and honest as possible. She didn’t know what could be done to her if he didn’t believe her. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Prince Suho didn’t look receptive to her answer, but he backtracked anyway as he looked away. “Perhaps I was merely seeing things,” he murmured to himself. Regaining eye contact, he took a step to shorten the space between them. “When I invited you and your father to stay here, I took it upon myself to look after you, knowing your foreignness would make you a target. I’m afraid I’ve neglected on that duty. It has caused Lady Hae great worry.”

Gwen took a step back, her hands behind her back. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I think I’m causing you more trouble than I’m worth. I promise, I’ll watch my steps from now on. The last thing I want is to be in the way. If you need anything, I’ll do it. I want to be a help, not a burden.” He nodded, the expression on his face softening slightly. Feeling the conversation was over with that last declaration, she bowed and scurried out of the library after replacing the historical text. 

With that haven now compromised, Gwen concluded the best place for her to go was back to her room until dinner. 

                                                    ********

After a few days of managing to stay out of trouble, Gwen ran into Lady Hae on one of her leg-stretching walks. She didn’t seem to be upset about the incident at the gazebo, though she was disappointed that Gwen hadn’t come to see her. Gwen stumbled through an apology, not realizing that she would be so missed. In fact, she thought she was doing everyone a favor by staying out of the way. 

Accepting the apology, Lady Hae asked if Gwen would like to learn how to make lotus lanterns for the upcoming festival. Gwen raised her eyebrows in surprise. Thinking it would be fun and distracting, she agreed and followed Lady Hae to one of the buildings with open walls that allowed a gentle breeze to keep them cool. The temperature hadn’t dropped like Prince Suho had predicted. When Gwen saw who was already at work in the building, she instantly regretted her decision to join. A groan was barely suppressed as she sat down beside Lady Hae.

“Lady Hae, I see you brought a friend,” Yeon Hwa sneered cheerfully. 

It took willpower, but Gwen managed to ignore the princess’s snide remark, instead focusing on Lady Hae’s explanation of how to put the lanterns together. The glue had a potent smell that stung at Gwen’s nose. No wonder they were in a building that allowed the air to drift in and out. It took a few poor looking lanterns for her to get the hang of it, but finally they looked worthy of being hung up for other people to see. Glancing over at Yeon Hwa’s, Gwen huffed internally. Though they were the same design, the princess’ were begrudgingly far superior.

“Lady Gwen,” Yeon Hwa called out. A faux-sweet smile stretched across her lips. “Why don’t you go take the dry lanterns and put them in the Moon building for storage until the festival?” 

Gwen returned a smile just as fake. “Of course.” 

Chae Ryung, who had joined the group soon after Gwen’s arrival, stepped forward. “I can take them, my lady.”

 “Lady Gwen is perfectly capable of carrying them herself,” Yeon Hwa snapped. The evil look gleamed in her eyes, as if she were punishing Gwen with such menial labor. 

Little did she know the request didn’t bother Gwen in the slightest. She was giving the perfect excuse to leave her presence. While making the lanterns, Gwen’s mind had wandered towards the village beyond the walls and - with everyone occupied here – sneaking out on her own should be easy enough. She wanted to see more of this world that she now resided in. 

Filling up her arms with as much as they could carry, Gwen shuffled up the hill, following the directions Chae Ryung had given to the Moon building. 

“Gwen, you’re out of your room.”

Papa walked up, a smile on his face causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle. He seemed out of place in the Goryeo fashion he donned, yet comfortable as the shiny fabric swayed around his legs. He wore the hanbok with dignity and ease. Back home, Gwen prefered less complicated clothing and was still adjusting to the multilayered dresses that needed an extra pair of hands to put on.

“Yes,” Gwen said. “I was helping Lady Hae make lanterns for the festival.” She held them up proudly for him to see.

“Those are very beautiful,” he complimented. Gwen’s smile stretched farther across her lips at the praise. “I’m happy to see that you’re getting back to your old self.”

The joy in his eyes was almost too overwhelming. Gwen thought back to her own father, with whom she was close. They seemed so much alike. Tears threatened to brim her eyes. Within the last few days, she’d grown an affection for this man. He was patient with her and caring. And, as an outsider himself, a small connection that she clung to. “I’m happy that you’re happy, Papa.”

“I have some business to oversee at the house. Please, stay out of trouble.” He gave her a kiss on the head and resumed in the direction he was headed before.

Continuing on her own way, Gwen barely reached the steps of the Moon building before a man in brown clothes ran, bowed, and took the lanterns to store them. He must have been a servant in the Prince’s household. She hadn’t seen him before but she gladly handed the lanterns over. Thankful that her task was now over, she waited and watched as the servant hung the lanterns up on a long string inside the open doors. Now it was time to explore. Taking a different path, she headed for the gate.  

This place was certainly different. Monarchies weren't as widespread in her own time, most nations having moved on to people-elected governments instead of blood-appointed kings. Though it was different, Gwen appreciated the underlining respect that drove this culture. The differences in formal and informal speech and the hierarchy of that respect ran deep within the people. The mutual heritage they all shared made her a bit jealous. She was from a place that didn’t have that. 

The sound of drums broke through her thoughts. They were deep, rhythmic, calling out to anyone who wanted to listen. Answering the call, Gwen followed them. 

In a giant dirt courtyard near the palace stood about six figures, some dressed in red, others in black. They were spaced equally apart in a square structure. Gwen hid among the archways, too fascinated to walk away like she should have. The figures danced in unison and with power – except one of the men in red, who was lacking enthusiasm and proper rhythm. The others noticed and stopped their dance, the drums fading out as well. They all stared at the one who had finished incorrectly as he flopped down to the ground. Gwen covered her mouth to soften the giggled. He was throwing a fit. A grown man by the looks of him, he was acting like a spoiled child. Among the figures was Prince Suho, who seemed exasperated at the situation.

So, those must be the other princes. 

This festival must be important, if royalty was performing. Gwen made a mental note to have Chae Ryung explain it in more detail when she went back to the compound.

A few of the princes ganged up on the one on the ground, criticizing him for still getting the moves wrong after such a long practice. Huffing, the one on the ground jumped up. He pointed a long finger and accused another brother of making a mistake as well. Gwen laughed loudly at their altercation, the noise pushing through her fingers. Prince Suho glanced up in her direction. She took off, scared to be caught. 

Once among the common people, Gwen’s mind eased. She wandered around the city, trying to ignore the whispers and stares that followed. The market was abundant with people. Men gossiped with their friends while the women picked over the vegetables and meats, inspecting for any impurities. Children played loudly and ran through the streets, uncaring if their feet were covered in mud. Different stalls caught Gwen’s attention, some selling soaps and bath grains, others selling intricate hairpins that sparkled under the sun. She made a mental note to ask Papa to come with her next time to buy a few wares. Maybe Chae Ryung could teach her how to place the pins in her hair. 

Leaving behind the market, Gwen came to a small bridge over a shallow river. The water flowed steadily, uninterrupted. She stared down at her blurry reflection, wondering how she could still look so much like herself. There was no railing to obstruct the view, so she bent down for a closer look. 

The face looking back was still round and pale, the soft jaw line giving a youthful appeal. Red hair fell natural, gentle waves that never liked to obey. Not even the multiple hairpins keeping it out of her face could tame it completely. Sea green eyes sat in hooded sockets on either side of a thin nose and average lips. Freckles dotted the bridge of her nose and apples of her large cheeks from years of sun exposure. Forced to come back to a time that wasn’t hers, the least magic could have done was improve her looks. 

The cries of the villagers reached her ears too late. Searching for the source of the hysterics, Gwen stood and turned as the villagers ducked out of sight. A mad man on a black horse galloped through the market. The rider didn’t care about others around him. He didn’t look back behind him or stop to check on those who dived out of his path. A villager with a traveling pack hanging from his shoulders scurried across the bridge to run away from the rider. In his haste, he knocked into Gwen. She lost her balance, flailing her arms worthlessly, and began to fall into the river that had served as my mirror just moments ago. She closed her eyes and braced for impact with the surly cold water. But it didn’t come.

A steadfast grip snatched her by her waist. When she opened her eyes to see who had saved her from the water, she was face to face with the rider.

[shimmershae]

The more I think about it, the more “Find Me” feels like an echo of “Ghosts.”

Allow me to explain.  In probably the most rambling and incoherent way possible, lol.  My earlier post on Twitter about Season 10 being an exercise in grief and longing really got me to thinking.  Not just thinking.  Ruminating.  

Anywho.  

Posting the rest of this beneath a cut because nobody asked for this (I swear I haven’t imbibed or ingested any illegal substances).  

It doesn’t take long for Carol to be established as an unreliable narrator in “Ghosts.”  At first it isn’t completely obvious because there’s just enough fact in the fiction that Carol’s triggered brain stirs up.  Daryl’s there and he’s concerned about her.  He’s supportive.  Both things he’d been before, especially since Henry’s death, but there are just enough elements in those chemically and grief induced hallucinations of hers that make you go--oh wait a minute.  Like she’s having a break from reality but she’s desperately grasping for that which grounds her and that’s Daryl.  

Am I making any sense here?  I feel like I’m not.  

Let me approach this from another angle.  

Following the airing of “Find Me” various people mentioned that Daryl, similarly to Carol in “Ghosts” wasn’t exactly the most reliable narrator.  That things weren’t necessarily as they seemed.  The word toxic was bandied about but other than Leah giving Daryl an ultimatum to choose her over his family and Daryl dwelling in deep, longstanding depression?  There wasn’t much else overtly deserving of that moniker. 

Argh.  I’m still not explaining myself well.  Let me just jump right in the deep end of probable delusion here.  Sometimes it’s fun to splash around, lol.   

Wouldn’t it be wild—sad AF but still wild—if Leah was already dead when Daryl met her?  

Bear with me here.   

Like Carol in “Ghosts” Daryl is obviously struggling.  He’s grief-stricken.  His brother is lost to him and after he betrayed him no less.  His close friend is mired in her own grief--she’s just lost her mate, probably recently discovered she was carrying RJ, and it wasn’t too long before that they had all lost Carl.  And that’s not even considering Carol, who’s allowed herself to be pulled away, lured by the tantalizing chance of doing things right this time.  Of rearing a child capable of surviving in the harsh world they live in.  Another thing to remember is Daryl is not that far removed from his torture at Negan’s hands.  So he’s more fragile than he’d willingly admit to anyone.  

He’s searching the woods for a man that isn’t there.  Now he’s no more aware that Rick was taken than the rest of Team Family, but he’s unwilling to give up hope and so he searches and because Rick’s not there and hasn’t been since shortly after that bridge blew up, Daryl’s doomed to always come up empty.  To always feel disappointment.  To never have his grief assuaged because as long as there’s no body in the form of a Walker, there’s still hope.  Or plausible denial.  Take your pick.  

He’s tireless in his search.  He’s methodical.  He plots out the places he’s already scoured on a hand-drawn map.  A map that just so happens to get ruined by an awful storm and Daryl seems to reach his breaking point, screaming out into the roar of that storm.  Walking through the barrage, the harsh rain and the violent lightning, unconcerned for his safety.  

Dude has a bit of a mental break.  He’s undeniably emotional.  

It’s not long after that he stumbles upon Dog.  Or, more aptly, Dog stumbles upon him.  

That puppy immediately lightens Daryl’s heavy heart and helping it find its way home gives him purpose.  He’s a tracker after all.  He could have easily traced Dog’s steps back to that cabin.  

Funny that Dog was always coming to him.  That he was roaming free in woods that were full of hidden dangers.  

I don’t know about the rest of ya’ll but that cabin looked abandoned when Daryl first discovered it.  Maybe not long abandoned, but it didn’t look inhabited by the living. And that’s the weird thing.  How did that Walker get into the cabin?  Did Leah just leave the door wide open for it?  Did she also leave the door wide open for Dog to escape?  Why was he always such an unaccompanied furry minor? 

The thoughts swirling around in my brain, lovelies.  They’re going to force me to go back and watch that fucking episode again aren’t they?

My point is that Dog essentially leads Daryl to the cabin. The Walker’s inside and then he stumbles upon Leah, who bursts onto the scene like she wants to be Sarah Connor or something. Daryl ends up in restraints and Leah questions him and ultimately lets him go and WTF, lovelies.  Who does that in the ZA?  As a woman all alone in a cabin miles from anybody else, in the company of a man she doesn’t know from Adam?  If ever there’s a time to have stranger danger...

Right from the start, this chick doesn’t really add up.

So Daryl leaves the cabin.  He resumes his search for Rick and he seems to give very little thought to this Leah or the cabin.  Until Dog finds him again.  

Strange isn’t it that he keeps stumbling back in her path around the times that Carol visits, when she draws further and further from his reach and closer to the fairytale he thinks she’s living at the Kingdom?  

Did Daryl ever go to that cabin without following Dog? I can’t remember.  The episode was beautifully shot but ultimately too painful to rewatch for my Caryl loving heart.  

Anywho.  

When Daryl and Carol come upon that cabin in the woods, Daryl’s flashbacks begin.  They’re hazy around the edges and not as clearly defined as the moments he spends with Carol.  Speaking of the moments he spends with Carol, how coincidinky that so many of them echo his moments with Leah?  Or do we have it all backwards?  Hmm?  

Things are so convoluted sometimes on this fucking show it leads one to question their sanity.  

Let me ramble out a few wild thoughts for you lovelies again and you tell me if I’ve completely lost it, lol.  

What if Dog was simply an orphaned, abandoned Dog that found Daryl in the woods?

What if Daryl followed the trail Dog had traveled in reverse and stumbled upon the cabin?  

What if the cabin was abandoned because Leah was already dead?  What if she’d taken her own life?  What if Daryl saw the cross/grave outside and the picture inside and his grief-stricken brain conjured up a whole tragic story for this woman, this Walker roaming around inside this house, and she became his coping mechanism?  You know.  Kind of like Rick did Lori when he had his own break with reality.  They’ve all suffered so much, lovelies.  They’ve all got PTSD.  It’s just manifesting in different ways.  

I mean, all of this would fit the label of sad that NR and others have given this little tale.  It would even fit toxic because Daryl let grief and loneliness swallow him for a while.  

As Carol pulls farther away from him, Leah just keeps popping up more and more.  

Daryl essentially loses himself in his own fairy tale only it’s a nightmare painted in soft colors and Leah asking him to choose is basically his own psyche saying to him “do you wanna live here in this fantasy land and numb your pain or do you want to relive the awful reality of Rick being lost and Carol slowly fading from your life day by day?”  And at first he’s like, you can’t make me make that choice because Daryl doesn’t want to give up hope, no matter how futile it seems.  But then Carol makes what she tells him might be her final visit for a while and anger leads Daryl right back to that fucking cabin and oblivion.  Back to the solitude of his tortured thoughts.  

That note, lovelies.  It felt like by choosing Leah he was choosing a lifetime of being alone more than it did him choosing the hope of a new love.  That “find me” for all the world felt like he was willing hope to find him again.  Hope in the form of love in the form of Carol.  

Listen.  I never said this would make sense, lol.  

When Daryl gets back to that cabin, Leah is gone.  Her picture is gone. 

Truly it felt like she’d never been there.  

Even more so when you consider how run down the cabin looks in present day when Daryl and Carol seek shelter in it.  

I can’t help it.  Some small part of me?  Well, it thinks that Daryl told Carol about Leah (whether she existed or not) as a way to both make her feel better than he wasn’t out there in those woods completely alone and to maybe move the needle a little bit on the nature of their own relationship.  Both in the past and present day.  

And while he and Carol are struggling through the ever-shifting nature of their feelings for each other, Daryl has climbed out of his own darkness and found hope again in Judith and RJ.  In the family he’s embraced again. In the communities.  And he’s angry and unsettled because he wants the same for Carol but she doesn’t seem to want that for herself.  

He still wants her to find hope.  

He still wants her to find him.  

He still wants her to find love and peace.  

Help me, lovelies.  These two have broken me, lol.  I promise.  I’m stone cold sober.  A little, okay a lot, tired.  

Wouldn’t it be wild, though?  If Leah really wasn’t what she seemed?  If she were a figment of a broken, lonely man’s tortured imagination?  

Undeniably sad AF but wild all the same.  

[samedmunds]

My litany thoughts on 1999 cult classic strategy video game Sid Meier's Alpha Centauri

Alpha Centauri is a game of the early Civilization variety from the EA golden age and ranks very highly in my top ten. While you probably heard of it if you were playing video games around the turn of the century, I've found members of my age cohort to be tragically unfamiliar with this masterpiece.

Alpha Centauri is an unofficial sequel to Civilization II, a game where the only way to way to win is either completely eliminate all competitors to the last city or, rather more easily, send a spaceship loaded with colonists to the title star system. Shortly after leaving home, the ship loses contact with Earth, which would make sense to a player of Civilization II where the bonuses to science and trade from democracies evaporate when technology ends, upon which point all the AIs revolt and become militant fundamentalist theocracies and climate change rapidly destroys the planet, leaving the player with an endgame that is literally 1984. Either way, when the already strained ship arrives at the Alpha Centauri system an unknown partisan assassinates the captain of the UNS Unity and the population fractures into seven opposing factions before firing the colony pods and exploring an inconveniently hostile planet.

The player starts here, in typical Civ fashion: a scout, settler, and absolutely no technology to speak of. That isn't to say you are a bunch of primitives, all your units start out with some approximation to modern guns and judging by the amazing quotes and wonder videos your society is well beyond the 21st century--more on the story later. The gameplay is incredibly well-balanced in spite of its age and quirks (with the exception of the freight-train progression of Yang). Rapid early expansion as the bountiful Peacekeepers may leave you at serious risk to the relentlessly martial Spartans, who are in turn threatened by the uber-specialized technocratic University--but be careful to underestimate the backwards Lord's Believers, their probe teams will just as quickly rob you of your gains. The Morganites can afford to sparsely defend their home if they're willing to pay off their aggressors, but they'll struggle expand over great swaths of territory without irking civil unrest drone riots from corruption. Meanwhile the Gaian Acolytes can harness the permanently-dangerous mindworms to great effect from the beginning of the game. Yang just... builds. And keeps building, and next thing you know he's conquered the Peacekeepers and turned Miriam into nothing more than a puppet and where are all these cruise missiles are coming from?

In short, the strategic design of this game is nothing less than a work of art, but that isn't to say it doesn't have its anachronisms. The User Interface has taken its inspiration from early versions of Microsoft Word and it rapidly pays off to know the hotkeys. The wonder videos are resolution locked and can sometimes cause problems depending on your display configuration. The unit creation system is simultaneously wonderful and horrendous. It allows me to create special long-range nerve gas bombers that eradicate cities shortly before orbitally-dropping specially-trained garrisons to quash all resistance. On the other hand, if you do not accept the cumbersome slew of computer-generated options, keeping your new weapons systems up to date with your latest technology (especially when playing as Zakharov) rapidly becomes a chore.

That said, there are a variety of features in the game that I think deserve to make a reappearance in the Civ Games. The pick-your-government system is incredibly balanced and fun to roleplay. You can't get away with crimes against humanity when solar storms hit in Civilization VI, nor can you weaponise climate change to flood your rivals cities, or strategically terraform to alter weather patterns and deny your neighbors arable land. At the bare minimum, we should be given the option to nerve staple rebelling cities when our control runs out!

All that said, there is also the story to contend with. One is at first tempted to think that a 4x strategy game with a marked emphasis on replayability would necessarily have a tacked-on story, if one at all. After all, the point is for the player to create it through their actions, not have it spoonfed to them. The majority of what you learn about your world that isn't printed in numbers and small pictures on the mapscreen is through blurbs that accompany each discovered technology or new building. The aforementioned wonders even have their adorable early-CG renderings, sometimes mixed in with some experimental film footage. There are occasional interludes that describe the mindworms and machinations of Planet, but the bulk of the wordage comes from epigrams of the faction leaders and the occasional bit of Nietzsche or Plato. It's so good that I can't help but stop and listen to CEO Nbwadibuke Morgan ramble on about supply chain economics or Sister Miriam's apocalyptic warnings every single time. Take some examples.

Proper care and education for our children remains a cornerstone of our entire colonization effort. Children not only shape our future; they determine in many ways our present. Men and women work harder knowing their children are safe and close at hand, and never forget that, with children present, parents will defend their home to the death!

--Col. Corazon Santiago, "Planet: A Survivalist's Guide"

Or perhaps, a more on the nose one:

"The Academician's private residences shall remain off-limits to the Genetic Inspectors. We possess no retroviral capability, we are not researching retroviral engineering, and we shall not allow this Council to violate faction privileges in the name of this ridiculous witch hunt!

--Fedor Petrov, Vice Provost for University Affairs Accompanies the Retroviral Engineering technology

The game often doesn't directly tell you what Retroviral engineering is, nor does it labor to explain just what having someone nerve stapled means, or the precise function of the Recycling Tanks, but through its quotation it beautifully circumlocutes the world you are shaping--and being shaped by. It really never pulls any of its punches, even if its just on Organic Superlube--great stuff--and I still catch muself quoting it regularly.

Ursula LeGuin once wrote

"Science fiction is often described, and even defined, as extrapolative. The science fiction writer is supposed to take a trend or phenomenon of the here-and-now, purify and intensify it for dramatic effect, and extend it into the future. 'If this goes on, this is what will happen.' [...] This may explain why many people who read science fiction describe it as 'escapist,' but when questioned further, admit they do not read it because 'it's so depressing.'"

Alpha Centauri is absolutely extrapolative fiction and very firmly rooted in the 1990s and I love it. It was released in the Aaron Sorkin TV, pre-9/11 days where the word Internet was more often than not followed by the words, "is like an information superhighway" and it absolutely no efforts are made to cover it up. The main factions are a cross-section of the New Millenium's hopes and anxieties. A New Russia that went a very different path before Putin took over, a cheerful clan of ruthless Western capitalists hellbent on putting Morganvision on every network set, a group of vaguely Scottish free-love peaceniks hellbent on defending the most-of-the-time incredibly hostile environment. There's the Second-Amendment preaching Spartans or the optimistically-influential UN which, judging by its naming scheme for its bases, seems to dedicate entire cities to bureaucratic agencies. The All-American Christian fundamentalists don't entirely butt heads with the frighteningly powerful Human-Hive (if your country calls their cities names like "Huddling of the People" and "Paradise Swarming" you might not be the good guys). The expansion also brings in more dynamic characters like the Information Wants to be Free! data angels Brian Reynolds very clearly came up with after watching Swordfish and Hackers back to back or the Nautilus Pirates who have no right to be as fun as they are.

The visions of the future are at once both anachronistic and prophetic; while elements may come off as cheese, I see it as a sort of window to the past, a way to examine what was once (and sometimes still is) on our mind. All in all, I give Sid Meier's Alpha Centauri 4 out of 5 stars and a definite all-time favorite, warts and all. You can pick it and its expansion up for $6 on Gog.com and play it through a built-in emulator that works for most systems. If you're willing to brave a dated interface and an older-fashioned gameplay style, I would definitely recommend it.

[aborddelimpala]

Just wanna say thank you, because your blog and posts and love for 'Carry On' and Sam and Dean is a safe place for me to come and reblog the finale that broke me and ended so beautifully and surpassed all my dreams. Fans like you who always believed and love the heart and soul of the show are making these difficult times with toxic people so much better because I can share in the love for Sam and Dean and this finale with like minds.

❤️

You know, the truth is, I’ve never been a fan of Dabbnatural. To me, Dabb is one of the worst thing that could have happened to the show. And the finale won’t change it. Season 12 was okay I guess but then, the js wanted more time off (which I understand, and I don’t blame them for it) and they choose to focus on Jack. I mean, okay. Alex can act, he’s cute, he’s young. Make sense that he could bring a younger audience to watch the show. Problem is, slowly but surely Sam & Dean became side characters of their own show. Bend to fit Jack’s storyline, often with lazy writing, recycling of Kriple’s old storylines & a lot of plots that came straight out fan fiction (no offense to fanfic writers, but yeah our horror show kinda turned into a drama soap). So to sum up, I wasn’t expecting much of the series finale. 

Looking back at seasons 13-14 & 15, I knew that Dabb would go for a reverse Swan Song to end the show. So I wasn’t surprised that Dean died & Sam get to live an “apple pie life”. Now, I get why Dean fans and Jensen were struggling with that ending. After everything he went through, Dean kinda got a crappy death. Like Cass gave his life to save him & then he gets killed on a random hunt. That’s harsh man. Sam got to die to save the world, Dean got to die to save a couple of kids. Tragic. But honestly? It makes sense to me. Sure I would have preferred not seeing it coming (the zoom on the bar, really?) & maybe with a more serious opponent. Still, looking back at the storyline, Dean dying on a hunt fits, to save brothers nonetheless. His death’s speech was heartbreaking. And then he made it to Heaven where he’s finally happy. When asked what Dean’s Heaven would look like, Jensen always answered : driving Baby on an endless road. Dean got exactly that. 

Now Sam, my Sam. My heart broke for him, in the best way. I loved that he named his son Dean. I loved that he was happy but still missing his brother like crazy. I loved that as soon as he died, he went straight to Dean and that the boys get to spend their afterlife together. 

Some might say (have said) that there was no plot on that episode and the writing was lazy, just to appeal to our love for the brothers, with no real effort into it. Well, I’ll take it. Season 15 storyline was wrapped in 15.19. That episode was a bonus. And ode to Sam & Dean brotherly love for each other and it was bittersweet and beautiful and I cried for half an hour watching it and I still cry thinking about it. And maybe it was written like a wincest fanfic & sure people can hate it, that’s okay. I don’t care. Sam and Dean have the most epic brotherly love story, soulmates and now they’re at peace, together. That’s all that matters to me. 

Sorry for the novel

[tristala]

To Distant Lands...

It has been quite a journey.

I have been a fan of Adventure Time for over ten years. But it wasn’t a great start.

Foolish 12 year old me disliked it at first glance just because I wasn’t used to the art style and didn’t take it seriously. I ignored it for almost a year. Then on one faithful day in my tutor’s house, I watched the newly aired episode Mystery Train with her kids.

I was... charmed by it. 

This new kind humor spoke to me and I... actually wanted to see more of it. Of course at first I was in denial for a bit but I got over that quickly. So from then on whenever I see it play on Cartoon Network I wouldn’t skip it anymore. I began to look forward to more episodes until I noticed that this series had an overarching plot.

The episodes that I thought were one-shot had purpose. Not all of them are great but they were satisfying for the most part. Like pieces of a puzzle being slowly formed over the years. When I got used to going online I started watch every single episode until I got to the latest. I would wait every week for a new one to drop.

Not everything was all sunshine and rainbows however. Around the mid seasons I thought that the plot was dragging, that the writing became pretentious in some episodes. I began to lose my love for it after 3 years by that point. So I just became a casual viewer.

It took 2 years for me to get back on going crazy over Adventure Time again and by then I was already 18 years old. But I was never ashamed by loving cartoons and my peers were also obsessed with this show so I had no problem getting back on track.

I know that they use storyboards to tell their stories and that writing was secondary. It’s a very risky way of creating a show. But for some reason it kind of works with a show Adventure Time. 

A world were the unpredictable happens, a world were your own imagination is the limit. 

The songs were always such a treat. They may sound simple but that’s what makes them so memorable and heartfelt. They capture the moments where the situations are laid out. The way they were made sounded on the spot and incorporated what the characters felt at the time has a touch of realism.

I will forever be astounded with the way they incorporated Jake’s powers. The ways the spells, the jokes and the characters work and being alive. The Land of Ooo has infinite possibilities. I love all of that jazz.

But what I love most about this show were the characters and their relationships. 

Sure they’re zany but the situations they find themselves in still felt real no matter how ridiculous they got. There were moments when everything suddenly just made sense and I just began to feel for them.

Marceline was a character that I felt infatuated with the first episode I saw her in. It was when she was ‘helping’ Finn ‘woo’ PB into going to movies with him. I was like “Who’s this vampire chick and why is she so fun?” 

Yeah I liked her, but I never thought that I would fall in love with the immortal known as The Vampire Queen.

Marceline is just a tragically beautifully written character. And the show has done something I never thought they would do: Address how being an immortal affected her and other people.  

This silly looking cartoon has tackled topics regarding existential crisis and put with a lot of thought on it and I live for that. What Marceline felt when she lost the people she loved over the years, how messed up her whole situation was. She didn’t know what to do and instead dedicated her life in killing vampires because she wanted to protect the memory of only one person she had left who couldn’t even be with her. It was so heartbreaking. 

Never had my younger self thought that Marcy would have relationship with Simon. When I saw the still image of them when I was about to watch Remember You I was psyched. Many scenarios were flowing in my head before I clicked the play button. I thought I was ready but I was so wrong. That episode was the first episode that made me cry watching this series. Afterwards I always looked forward to Simon and Marcy interactions. 

I felt the utter hopelessness when Simon was declining onwards to becoming the Ice King we’ve always seen but never really known. 

But even in his maniacal state, there was a semblance of the Simon who loved his Betty and Marcy with all his heart. It could be called hopeful but it could also be cruel. And that is the beauty of this tragedy.

Immortality will mess anyone up and they all cope it with different ways.

Princess Bonnibel Bubblegum is another immortal but had different priorities. She already had a goal set in mind and went through with it with almost no hesitation. She committed numerous acts with questionable morals in mind. She pushed everyone away and just focused on her kingdom. In her own way, she was winging it. 

Her way of thinking clashed with Marceline and it was all the wrong timing for them. Her closest friend’s care for strangers was already almost nonexistent and she herself was too stressed. 

In the process of finding their purpose and having the weight of responsibilities on their shoulders and just living, these two have lost themselves and are just so tired and broken.

This is one of the main reasons why I ship Bubbline. They are so different yet they understand each other in an unspeakable level. The lost moralities they had were slowly gained when they found each other. And it wasn’t even immediate. There were so many ups and downs with their relationship and it took them centuries to figure it out. Even in the present they’re still figuring it out but now they are healing and that’s what matters.

And let’s not forget the titular characters.

Finn and Jake’s brotherly bond is one of my most favorite things in all of the fictional media I have consumed. Because going through reincarnation together and being with each other for all eternity is literally the definition of their love not knowing any bounds.

Together Again was the perfect send off for Adventure Time. And while they’re brotherhood isn’t flawless like Jake not always being the best role model but he’s always there for his brother and Finn would do anything for the people he loves. They have went through so many things together, good and bad.

Their bond is unbreakable.

Finn’s breakdowns in losing his best friend was so painful to watch and I cannot help myself but cry for what these brothers have lost. I know people have to let go but maybe we don’t have to “let go” let go, you know? So imagine my surprise and delight when Jake decided to join his brother and said these very words:

“Because it’s great being alive with you.”

That sentence broke my soul into a million pieces and restored it at the same time. I just bursted into tears the second I heard that. It was so simple yet one of the most touching lines I have ever heard in my life.

This show had so much heart that it’s overflowing. The bonds that these characters have for each other. It has brought me so much tears of sadness and joy. It broadened my imagination for the unknown. The creativity of this series is absolutely outstanding.

I was the same age as Finn when the show started so you could say I grew up with him and the show. I wasn’t young enough for it to be a part of my childhood but it was there for me till I reached adulthood. And I think that it’s much better that way. It did help me grow up and let me see that there are a lot of things that while everything stays, they still change. 

Adventure Time’s had a lot of messages strewn over its seasons and always had a melancholic vibe to it. 

That’s life... and that’s okay.

It may get ugly and terrifying but Adventure Time has told me to just live. 

Sing, dance, cry and laugh. Something simple as hanging out with family and friends has so much meaning in the grand scheme of things. Life goes on and things will seem to be familiar yet foreign at the same time. Linger on nostalgia, but also appreciate what’s happening in the present and look forward to what will happen in the future.

I am so grateful to have been on this wonderful adventure.

Like what they always said: 

The fun never ends.