#again just my two cents on it

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Movie Analysis: Who I am and Who you want me to be

“For Christ Sake, Alex! For once! I wish you could see me for who I am and not who you want me to be!”

“Starting today, the world will know me for who I am, and not who you want me to be.”

Okay so let’s take a look at these two lines, shall we?

Henry views his own self as two facets: Prince Henry, and Henry Fox.

Prince Henry belongs to Britain. He is a servant of the crown. He has to prioritize the crown’s image, what the crown wants. The mindless ribbon cuttings, the convention and appearances, the hiding in the closet, it's what's demanded of Prince Henry. Prince Henry cannot pursue a relationship with a man because he has to maintain a “traditional royal image”. Prince Henry cannot be seen walking through Austin holding hands with Alex because “the nation will simply not accept a prince who is homosexual".

Henry Fox, is a romantic and a dreamer. He wants to be a writer and live in Paris. He called his first time with Alex "making love". He wore a white suit to a vacation, wowed at his boyfriend's family lake house even if he lives in a palace and jokes with his boyfriend's father. He plays volleyball and reads while lying in a hammock. He rants about literature, poetries and books. He watches Bake-off with his dog while eating Jaffa Cakes when he can't sleep. He does tequila shots and sings Queen in karaoke. He laughs when Alex splashes water all over him and kisses his shoulder.

The public, see Prince Henry.

Alex, sees both, but knows Henry Fox intimately. When you ask him to talk about Henry, he will think of Henry Fox.

So here's the thing.

Henry, is ultimately, both. He is the Prince of England's Hearts. He is also the boy who has been in love with Alex for years.

But Henry feels like one is more important than the other.

So in the Kensington confrontation, when Henry says “I wish you Could see me for who I am and not who you want me to be!"

"Who I am" refers to Prince Henry.

"Who you want me to be "refers to Henry Fox.

From Henry's perspective, in this scene, he's prioritizing Prince Henry. He thinks that he has to be Prince Henry first and foremost. That's why he's labelling that facet as "who he is", even though he has mentioned before that he doesn't want to be this image of the "perfect prince", that being Prince Henry requires him to hide pieces of himself and it hurts.

What he's saying here, is essentially Alex is not taking "Prince Henry" into considerations regarding their relationship, that he's being idealistic on the degree of freedom Henry has. He's saying that all Alex sees is Henry Fox, his private, true, personal side, that Henry, at that moment, thinks is less important than Prince Henry, which bless him, but is sort of true on Alex's part. Alex is so used to being with Henry Fox that he forgets about Prince Henry, which is why he talked about their future so casually with not much regards on Henry's part.

So this sentence can be rephrased as "I wish you could see all the burden I carry and how impossible it is for me to escape it, rather than just our happy moments together that are not meant to last.”

Now let's look at the Buckingham Confrontation, where the words are flipped: "Starting today, the world will know me for who I am, and not who you want me to be."

This time "Who I am" is Henry Fox, and "Who you want me to be" is Prince Henry, which I would say is the objective allocation of the two names.

This is Henry reclaiming his own identity and image. This is Henry pushing away the traditional, perfect, heterosexual “Prince Henry”, saying “That’s not who I am”, taking that title and merging it with bits of “Henry Fox”: the gay prince in love with FSOTUS, the romantic who writes poetry about his man’s body, the lover who encourages Alex when he loses his confidence.

There are parts of Henry Fox that they don’t show the public, that should be kept between him and his loved ones: the boy whose heart broke when his father died, the boy who struggles with self-worth and depression, the boy who likes grabbing his boyfriend’s hair. Honestly as a public figure, or anyone who interacts with a group of strangers, it’s completely normal to create a public persona that only shows parts of him.

The difference now is that he gets to decide what to show the public. Prince Henry is no longer a straight-up lie, rather than an incomplete version of Henry Fox. This is his identity to claim, and his image to build.

Now, Prince Henry and Henry Fox both belong to him.

Now, Henry George Edward James Hanover-Stuart Fox can write his own history.

[symphonyofsilence]

Let the poor man rest.

[ghostofthepresent]

Why I think Shiguang can be canonically read as romantic

(I will only be using the donghua for reference, so no Studio Lan retweeting those fanarts (lmao) nor those especially gay manhwa panels (lmao x2) nor even the songs ("chase you to the end of the world, just to say your name once more" my beloved).

It's important to start off by saying that I'm aware Director Li said they ended up not making Lu Guang a girl because they didn't want romance to be seen as a must in Shiguang's relationship by the audience (and because he feels that "bros can have a good heart-to-heart connection with each other"). In my opinion that was a great move since it allows more freedom with how they write them than they'd have otherwise. I also think viewing Shiguang as queerplatonic is a great read too and it doesn't diminish their love for each other nor the importance of their relationship at all.

With that said, despite Director Li's words, there's been things that had me going 🤨 as someone who likes to adhere to canon relationships and read into the writer's intentions, so I wanted to share why I personally see them as romantic.

EPISODE 2

We've all seen this coming, right? Most obvious parallel ever, and in the second episode no less. We all know the similarities between both relationships, so I will just touch on those I consider the most important ones.

Lin Zhen and Yu Xia have gone to college together, and since then decided to start a business of their own - named after a mix of their names. They've been shown as being really close and having no romantic relationships. Lin Zhen also says that Yu Xia's happiness is her own, and then it's shown to us that she's gone through years of unhappiness just for Yu Xia. I believe you can replace their names with Lu Guang's and Cheng Xiaoshi's in your head without me writing all this again. And I'm not even going to get into the most obvious parallels like the special noodle recipe for each pair.

I think it's safe to say that Lin Zhen and Yu Xia are implied to be romantic. From that "one noodle" scene, to the close shot of Lin Zhen grabbing her hand, etc.

Now, I want to get into a writer's point of view and pose two questions:

1. What's the purpose of this episode, when even those which seem episodic connect to the overarching plot of season 1 (even the missing kid's case, as it leads to the involvement with the police)?

2. If we answer the previous question with the conclusion that it's meant to show us the nature/development of Cheng Xiaoshi's and Lu Guang's relationship, what does that say about it?

"Partner" in Link Click

Continuing with episode 2, what really got me thinking about the romantic intentions in their writing was the constant mention of marriage and anything in relation to it.

(may I remind everyone that the driver's comment was said when Cheng Xiaoshi was complaining about Lu Guang lmao)

They're telling us through "show don't tell" (for example, when Lin Zhen kept on eating the noodle despite knowing they'd kiss) and, also, connotations. They are presented to us as business partners, but then the entire episode goes on to tell us that there's more to them by tying their relationship to things percived as romantic. So what they want to really tell us is that beyond simple business partners, they're life-long partners.

And then, after establishing this kind of connotation to the word partner, Cheng Xiaoshi says this to Lu Guang in the next episode:

This doesn't stop at them. While it's the most obvious example, I think partnership in Link Click is intended to be seen as romantic, or at the very least dancing somewhere close to it. Let's go even further and take a look at our fully canon, heterosexual relationships and see briefly how their story is written:

1. Dong Yi and Xu Shanshan: both of them chose the comfort of each other's presence over moving on with their respective futures. Dong Yi had so much faith in their relationship and their love that he couldn't choose a life/future that didn't have Xu Shanshan - choosing to not go back to his family home nor go to that interview, and instead waiting for Xu Shanshan to define their relationship.

2. Liu Siwen and Ouyang: Siwen spent his entire life training with the purpose of getting his father-in-law's respect and marry Ouyang, going every year over and over to fight him. His perseverance and his undying love for her allowed Siwen to do the (seemingly) impossible.

3. Chen Bin and his wife: they're a tragedy. His wife understood Chen Bin the best, enduring feeling lonely because she loved him and wanted a future with him. But their relationship was cut short, so they promised each other to be together in a future life to make up for the time they wouldn't be in this one.

With this + the pictures I attached, it seems like Link Click has set this theme of "love is a life with you" for its romantic relationships, a partner that will fight to stay because they can't see a future that doesn't have their beloved. Going back to episode two, this applies even to the noodle ladies. When Yu Xia remembered what actually matters to her, she went back home - to the start, to her hometown. And, most importantly, to Lin Zhen.

So why is Shiguang romantic? Why aren't they queerplatonic, or just best friends, or bros or whatever else? Because besides what I said at the start of the previous paragraph, Shiguang's relationship mirrors a lot of the romantic ones. Each story and author writes romance and other kinds of relationships differently, portraying them in the way they perceive "this is what this kind of love is like". And beyond life-long partners, I think that the key elements of romantic relationships in Link Click are the ones I highlighted in bold above in the 3 canon relationships part - which Shiguang shares, too.

(I didn't mention this before with the het couples, but I find it a little amusing that season 2 happened because a man wanted to go to the past and get his wife back (still fuck you Qian Jin) and then we find out Lu Guang did go back to the past and got his boyfriend partner back lmao).

"Friend" vs "Partner"

So where is the boundary between platonic and romantic? What marks the difference between a (best) friend and a partner?

There is, for example, Liu Xiao and Li Tianchen's relationship. They aren't shown to have any kind of romantic undertones and there's even the very real possibility of manipulation on Liu Xiao's side. They're also never labeled as nor call each other partners, but instead Li Tianchen says he "met a new friend" and Liu Xiao says he's "going to meet an old friend" years later. So we could say for now that they have a somewhat close relationship (we see Li Tianchen go against Qian Jin to give the phone to Liu Xiao), but never cross that "friend" label.

We can even bring Qiao Ling and the boys' relationship. She's never labeled as a partner despite taking part in the side job and, more importantly, being super close to both of them. She is very important and a cherished friend to Shiguang, so why not call her partner too? I think it's intentional. Since she's been given a familial role already (calling Cheng Xiaoshi her brother when talking to Li Tianxi), she can't fill a partner role. I wonder why? because it's supposed to be a synonym for a romantic relationship. who said that.

So even best friends (Qiao Ling, arguably what Liu Xiao is to Li Tianchen) don't enter this close space that is being a partner. It's different, it's beyond platonic. Or at least that's what they've been showing us for the past two seasons.

I could go soo much more into this honestly, because I do think the little hints thrown here (the music videos) and there (tiny seemingly inconsequential details) are worth to be looked at too, but I wanted to get into the core reason that makes me go "woah so they're In Love fr". I hope I expressed myself well ^^

tldr; the series shows us a divide between having a (best) friend and a partner, giving "partners" romantic connotations.

[800db-cloud]

is this anything

[spooksicl-e]

spoon vs comic formatting (aka i completely disregard it)

[curi0uscreature]

* (steam coming out of my head) I’m fucking thinking dude

[herefortheships]

I feel like The Phantom of the Opera can be a metaphor for how society shames women for their sexual desires. Women must aim to be chaste. The Phantom represents Christine's sexual awakening, while Raoul represents her innocence.

Christine and Raoul met as kids; he is the light, "the good guy", chastity, etc. He is everything to be loved in the open air, in the light for all to see and approve of. Meanwhile Erik is darkness, "the bad guy"; he is the passion kept in the night and out of sight. He lurks in the darkness and is everything to be feared, but also everything to be loved with great passion. The kind of passion that is often shamed when it is women who pursue it.

Ultimately Christine chooses the light (what she is expected to choose), over the darkness (the passions and desires a woman is often shamed for).

I always hold the interpretation that the one Christine truly loved was Erik; she only chose Raoul because she was pressured into making a choice, and, well, see my points above.

Plus Erik became all homicidal, oops. But I know she did love him.

[betryl]

To be honest to me it's not really that big of a deal if someone just genuinely likes TSH's atmosphere and aesthetic and quotes and whatnot. Parts of it are purposefully written to be alluring and impactful and pretty, and I think you're allowed to find them so without it meaning you missed the warning about not idolizing people in pursuit of pointless and shallow ideals. You can be aware of the message and critique it wanted to convey while also just enjoying the book itself from time to time lol. If someone says they have a morbid longing for the picturesque or whatever chances are they know they're not supposed to take it literally or base their whole personality on it, they just think the cool quote is cool. And actually I think letting yourself indulge in Richard's perspective makes you realize even better how skewed it really is and it's the best way to experience TSH

[liaragaming]

Just adding my two cents, but I didn't personally read Solas's visceral, curling in on himself reaction to be due to Mythal.

When he first sees Mythal, he looks like a sad wet cat man, but that's it. (And this the first time he's seen her since he killed her, so this seems perfectly accurate, imo.)

They have a whole back and forth with each other before we get to the curling in on himself reaction. and he's relatively composed.

Mythal: I pulled you from the Fade you loved and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon... and it broke you.

Even Solas's "The things that I have done", he doesn't seem broken down yet.

Mythal: Are not for you to bear alone my friend. The many wrongs we did, we did together.

We don't see him breaking down until the "We did together" part, and she's so far away from him at this point.

To me, this whole scene is about getting Solas to let go of the pain of regrets, and that's never been something he's been able to do. Mythal's words are telling him: You are not alone in this. All this pain isn't yours to carry. And that's so incredibly difficult for him to process.

He's been carrying all of this and blaming no one but himself for thousands of years. Of course, he's going to have a visceral reaction to having someone who was there, who participated in those regrets, who he himself killed, telling him that pain isn't deserved and to let it go.

The dagger represents Solas's regrets. He created it to sunder the titans, Mythal was killed with it, he drew her essence from it and then never spoke to that essence again, he used it to create the Veil, he killed Varric with it - all of Solas's mistakes are tied up in this thing and he's trying to give it to Mythal. He's begging her to take this pain and these regrets from him. He doesn't want them anymore!

And then she does exactly what he's asking.

Mythal: I release you from my service.

So many of the things Solas did and regrets, he did at Mythal's behest. And in the final moment, she takes responsibility for those things. She takes those regrets and lets him go.

Finally, he is free.

This scene is about Solas healing. Mythal helps him to do that.

[darrys-laundry]

the thing that irks me about the og ‘throwing in the towel’ lyrics (‘soda i’m really depressed, spending every night drinking myself to sleep’) is that the curtis house always seemed like a refuge for steve/johnny/dally from their alcoholic/abusive/absentee parents

[camellcat]

so, I just saw seeing red for the first time. I thought I was prepared for what I was getting into? I wasn't. definitely had to take a break after that episode... wow. I can see why it had the actors getting therapy cause it left me shaking just after simply watching it. I can also see how that episode could completely turn someone against spike/spuffy. I adore spike but uh for once in my life I did not enjoy seeing him on my screen at all after that

[symphonyofsilence]

Honestly, it looks like at least after the Guanyin Temple, WWX is actively resisting understanding that JC still cares about him. JC takes a Stab to the chest for him, asks him why he didn't keep his promise & stay by his side, has a full breakdown over his sacrifice, gives him back Chenqing that he's kept for all these years, gets angry at JGY on his behalf, JGY spells out for WWX that JC is angry because he feels WWX was wronged, and that JC must have come to rescue not only JL, but WWX too, & targets WWX in the middle of the fight, fully trusting that JC would rush to his rescue, and he does. JC even thanks LWJ and holds a fallen WN. & I think one reason that WWX might be subconsciously fighting against getting all these clear signs and still avoiding JC might be that as much as he thinks he can’t handle JC’s wrath and blame and wants him to forgive him, he actually can’t afford JC’s forgiveness and unconditional love. Because he still blames himself for JZX’s and JYL’s deaths and even the massacre of Lotus Pier. & JC is the only one who has the right to be angry at him for all of these. He and JL. JC’s the only one who knew JYL & genuinely cared about her. WWX doesn’t think he deserves JC’s forgiveness. In fact, he looks terrified of it. Just look how quickly he turns from JC after thanking him for giving Chenqing back to him (Chenqing that after all these years still sounded like he had first used it. A very telling sign of JC's affection in itself.) Even though even JL who was watching from afar could say that JC had something to say to WWX:

JC is an outward force blaming him and being angry at him. WWX can tell him that he doesn’t know what to say to him when asked for an explanation, he can tell him that it’s all in the past. Let it go. he can beat the shit out of him. He can apologize to him and be judged by him. He can avoid him. Pretending that by ignoring him he doesn’t have to face the past. JC blames WWX and is harsh to him so WWX doesn’t have to fight himself and blame himself all the time. post-resurrection WWX keeps misinterpreting everything JC says and is unwilling to listen to him and get the hints JC keeps giving him about how he just wants WWX to come back home & interprets everything JC even doesn’t say in the worst ways he can bc it’s not so much about JC than it’s about WWX projecting onto JC. Because he thinks JC MUST be thinking that way. BC WWX thinks he deserves JC’s hatred. And judging by how he keeps misinterpreting JC even pre-time-skip, and in true WWX fashion fully believes himself to be right & doesn't second guess himself and or makes any effort to understand JC, & JYL is always the JC translator for him, from the moment she says to him that despite his tantrum JC is happy to finally have a playmate, to the moment she says that JC was the one who offered WWX name JL, and without JYL there to take their hands and pull them to meet each other in the middle the brothers can't communicate, Jiang Cheng has never been so much his own person in Wei Wuxian's mind as WWX's interpretation of him. WWX's shidi. An open book to WWX in WWX's mind. When he was not WWX's fragile shidi who needed protection (which @cerusee has written a great meta about here.), then he was WWX's betrayed, angry shidi who blamed him & resented him. If JC forgives him and continues to be his loving brother then it’s clear that the only one who can’t forgive WWX is WWX. and what is he gonna do about that?

[shoot-i-messed-up]

…ngl the Ilana & Rick dynamic was more interesting before they fucked

[pianokantzart]

The Line of Fire

Luigi seems to be the only one who notices that the "Mario" wandering around The Mushroom Kingdom isn't really Mario. To make things worse, whoever the imposter is seems fully aware of Luigi's position, and is intent on doing whatever is necessary to threaten him into silence.

Another work based on the body swap concept from @elitadream. It has a firm grip on my brain and won't let go. Take care to check the tags for trigger warnings!

Word Count: 4307

Also available on Ao3: X

____________

It was late in the afternoon when Luigi finally made it home. He tried to look natural as he walked up the front steps of his little cottage on the outskirts of town, carrying a large bag of groceries in each arm, squeezing them tightly to himself every time his sensitive nerves picked up in the slightest little rustle of the grass or shadow cast by the clouds overhead. Glancing nervously over each shoulder he stepped to the front door, then– like a nervous animal– rushed across the threshold and kicked the door shut behind him.

In the familiar confines of his house, he felt no safer. He hurried into the kitchen and tried to ease himself with his usual tasks of putting away groceries and sweeping the floors, but it was no good. Whenever he successfully buried his fear, an equally powerful sense of guilt took its place. Here he was, going about his business like usual, as though his brother’s location and well-being weren’t a morbid mystery. Like something cruel and terrible hadn’t stolen him away and taken his place… Luigi set the broom aside and rubbed his temples, trying to think of what more he could do that he had not already done. What attempt he could make that wouldn’t jeopardize innocent lives? It was crucial to tread carefully, but it didn’t help that he barely even understood what was going on in the first place.

This thing that had taken his brother’s place… the “Not-Mario” he had come to call it… was, from what he could tell, a near-perfect imitation of his brother in appearance and abilities. Luigi had a few theories: some sort of shapeshifter, a facsimile created from magic, or something had stolen Mario’s body directly, and was now puppeting it for their own devices. He suspected the latter and was half-certain of the culprit. There was a startling familiarity to that hellish glint in what used to be his brother’s eyes, but he didn’t dare yet call the thing masquerading as Mario “Bowser.” It felt far too early to make assumptions. He only knew a few things for certain: Mario was in terrible trouble, there was something pretending to be Mario, the Not-Mario knew that he knew the truth, and nobody else seemed to see through the ruse. The doppelganger had assured him that the real Mario was still alive. It was implied in equal measure that Mario’s survival would be determined by whether or not the truth got out. He also threatened Princess Peach, the neighboring toads, and everyone else he could use as leverage, knowing Luigi had no desire to test whether or not he was bluffing.

Uncertainty and doubt knotted Luigi’s heart, endless questions eating away at him when he was steadily pulled from his thoughts by a spot of red appearing in the corner of his eye.

He turned and let out a yelp of surprise. There stood Mario’s body, void of Mario’s spirit, leaning against the doorway of their kitchen, glaring at him with those strange eyes. When did he come in? How long had he been in here? Why had he come here?

Throughout this entire ordeal, one of the few kindnesses Not-Mario had granted him was staying away from their home. This was a selfish comfort, of course, “Mario”’s absence merely meant that he was too busy doing who-knows-what elsewhere. Luigi nervously reexamined his brother’s face, hoping to find some faint glimmer of the man he’d grown up with, but if anything it had only gotten stranger since he had last seen it… sunken and tired, like he hadn’t slept at all.

Before Luigi could ask, Mario’s voice interrupted with a simple command: “Living room. Now.” “What?… Why can’t we talk here?” Not-Mario gave no response, he simply walked off, leaving Luigi feeling stupid for so much as posing the question. Of course not. Where they talked was not the point, the point was establishing at every opportunity who was in control.

Luigi anxiously stepped into the living room, and at once found himself being approached aggressively by his brother’s body, boxing him toward the back of the room where a couch and an easy chair sat in a small half-circle around a television set. “Where were you today?” Not-Mario Growled. Luigi braced himself against the arm of the couch. “I went to the marketplace. You know, to get groceries?” Not-Mario was unswayed. “Where else?”

Luigi gripped his arm and averted his eyes. No way. He was certain he’d been careful. He’d made sure he wasn’t followed. He knew the toad he handed the letter to, made him promise to keep it a secret. He’d done everything right! “N-nowhere else! I mean, I did take a little walk before making my way home.” “A walk? Did your little detour happen to bring you near Peach’s castle?” Luigi felt his heart drop as Not-Mario pulled a familiar envelope from his overall pocket. He held it up and stared daggers; a taunting, hateful grin spreading across his face. “It’s embarrassing, really. Don’t you know the palace guards have better things to do than deliver your mail for you?…”

On impulse, Luigi lept to snatch the envelope, but his opponent proved too quick, immediately catching him by the shirt collar and thrusting him backward, sending him toppling over into his old recliner with such force that he could feel the chair springs snap under him. “Sit down .” The demand was sharp and booming, the undercurrent of rage Not-Mario had carried with him since he first appeared bubbling to the surface. Luigi stayed seated, watching with held breath and a pounding heart as the thing with his brother's face tore open the sealed envelope, and read aloud the letter enclosed:

“Princess Peach, I hope this letter finds you well. I would like nothing more than to explain the situation in person, but I am in no position to do so without endangering your safety. Be wary of Mario, he is not who he seems to be. Keep one eye open at all times, and take care you aren’t left alone under any circumstances. I will do my best to find out what’s happening. I’ll contact you again once I have a better grasp of what to do. Until then, for the sake of The Mushroom Kingdom, remain vigilant.

Dutifully yours, – Luigi”

As he finished reading the letter, he turned his focus to the author, gauging his response. Luigi stayed where he was, putting on a poor performance of remaining calm as sweat trickled down his face and his chest pounded. 

Not-Mario sighed and tucked the letter back into the envelope. 

“You should be thankful this never made it into Peach’s hands. The moment she starts getting suspicious, I’ll have to start taking drastic measures.”

“H-how did you get that?” Luigi finally managed, clutching his knees in an attempt to hide the way his hands shook.

“You gambled the lives of your loved ones so you can play ‘hero,’ and you think you’re in a position to ask questions?”

With a flick of the wrist, the man in red ignited firebrand and rendered the envelope to ashes. Luigi watched the pieces scatter across the living room, catching one of them in his hands as though a part of him hoped his failed attempt to find help could be somehow pieced back together. “You know,” Mario’s voice continued, “there’s a rumor that you’re in the middle of some sort of nervous breakdown. Though I suppose it was only a matter of time… you aren’t exactly known for your mental fortitude, and your recent head injury hasn’t helped things either.”

“Head injury?” Luigi barely managed the question when saw Mario’s form rushing toward him, hardly giving him time to even register what was happening before a gloved hand gripped his face with enough force to rattle his teeth, tore him from his seat, and threw him across the room with unprecedented power. Luigi’s body crashed like a rag doll into the TV set, his back bruising on the edge of the console, his skull shattering the screen. He lay there for a moment on the heap of cracked wood and glass, struggling to lift himself up, the world spinning around him as his vision turned white with pain. A laugh filled the air, such a horrible laugh, clashing with a voice of warm familiarity to create something grotesque and alien. “Nobody in this kingdom believes in you. Your only redeeming quality is that you live under the same roof as I do.” It sneered. “Tell me, do you ever wonder how often Mario took solace in your little neighbors? Finally able to speak plainly about how hard it is being followed around by his quivering imbecile of a brother?” Luigi didn’t answer. His sibling’s stolen voice was laced with poison, but he refused to swallow. He owed Mario at least that small dignity. The voice prattled on. “We seem to be on pretty cozy terms… I’ve apparently earned their unwavering faith. That is not something I intend to squander.” These words made Luigi’s blood run cold. He scrambled to a standing position despite the pain that still rattled his skull. Seeing Mario’s body walking toward the exit, he called out. “What are you going to do?” The question was ignored, and all at once Luigi felt more terrified of seeing the imposter leave than he was of his presence. If this was Bowser, as he suspected, surely a minor concussion wouldn’t be the only consequence of his attempt to seek help. What of the toad guard he had given the letter to? What of the princess herself? What about The Mushroom Kingdom, too safe and cozy to even install locks on their doors? blissfully unaware of the monster that wandered amongst them?

“Wait!” Luigi called again, taking a few stumbling steps after the body of his brother. “I need to know you won’t hurt anyone!”

At this, Not-Mario stopped just short of gripping the handle and turned to Luigi with his brows raised. “First you demand answers, now you want me to make promises?”

“Yes! Swear you won’t hurt anyone. Otherwise, I’ll… I’ll…” Luigi stumbled over his words. He wrung his hands and swallowed a lump in his throat, gathering together what little courage he could scrounge from the growing pit in his stomach. What would Mario do? What would Mario do? Pull yourself together, do what Mario would do! He released a heavy breath as he sank into a fighting stance, a crackle of electricity rolling along the fingers of his gloves, the hair beneath his cap fluttering with static. “... I’ll… I’ll make sure you don’t hurt anyone.”

It was a wild gambit, but all he wished to do was relay a message. Yes, he was weak, yes, he was terrified, but he was just strong enough and brave enough to get in the way. There was still one hero left in The Mushroom Kingdom, and whoever this imposter was, he couldn’t just wander around and do whatever he wished.

This time, Luigi was prepared when Not-Mario rushed at him, and he met the attack with a blast of bright blue electricity. 

He had no intention of causing serious damage– if this was his brother’s body, he was going to need it back in the best condition possible– but he did hope to incapacitate him. If luck was on his side, perhaps he could get enough of an upper hand to restrain him. Then what? He didn’t know if any of the toads would believe him, but perhaps if he could just get Princess Peach to see the imposter– ask him questions, look into his eyes, confirm for the sake of everyone that he wasn’t Mario– they could figure out a plan to get the real Mario back! Mario’s body seized up under the shock but didn’t fall, and though the muscles of his face stiffened his expression showed no hint of pain. Barely perturbed, he barreled into Luigi with full force, knocking him flat on his back. Before Luigi could recover he felt the full weight of the man bearing down on top of him, and two large powerful hands wrapped tightly around his throat. Mario was strong, stronger than Luigi remembered, which was certainly saying something. Luigi knew his brother always held back whenever they sparred– fun, playful fights meant to do nothing more than hone their skills– but the strength he possessed now almost didn’t make sense. It felt more akin to the motions of an unwavering machine than that of a man. It pushed forward with reckless abandon, shrugging off Luigi’s struggles and blows with the resilience of a brick wall. Gasping for air, Luigi sent another charge into Mario’s body, feeling the current surge through his arms back into his own throat, and yet these efforts only seemed to tighten the grip around his windpipe. As the seconds ticked on with agonizing slowness, his struggles became more mindless and desperate as his mind clouded, his vision darkening, the electricity flashing from his hands fading into faint sparks as the adrenaline of battle turned into an animalistic fight for consciousness.

He didn’t want to die here. Luigi was not ignorant of his own mortality, but he wanted to go out in a way that would’ve made Mario proud. If he had only successfully delivered the letter, had alerted the citizens of what was happening… even just put up enough of a fight to put the doppelganger in his place… he wanted to have gone down doing something– anything of use. He’d failed at every turn, and now he was going to die, strangled to death by the very hands that carried him when he was injured, held him close when he was scared, and dragged him repeatedly out of the jaws of danger. Luigi’s last coherent thought was a prayer that Mario would be okay, before every sensation thinned out into nothingness, and the whole world turned black.

“Well, that was a waste of my time .”

Bowser let out a tired huff as he looked down at the unconscious body of his enemy’s brother. Luigi lay perfectly still, save for the slight rise and fall of his chest, his bruised throat making a slight wheezing sound with every inhale and exhale. Satisfied that his opponent was down for the count, Bowser took the time to examine the damage that had been done to his own body. Pulling up his sleeves he found red burns, shaped like tree branches, stretching along his forearms up to his shoulders. Bowser flexed his limbs, confirming they worked the same as usual, though he knew they would likely hurt a great deal if he was in a position to feel pain. He was thankful the markings didn’t extend any further than they did. So long as he wore his usual long-sleeved shirt, nobody would see the injuries or ask questions. He rolled his sleeves back up and knelt beside Luigi, paying especially close attention to the darkening marks appearing along his throat. He felt a powerful urge to once again wrap his hands around that scrawny little neck and finish the job, not because of the threat he posed, or the insolence he had displayed, but the idea of delivering the corpse to the real Mario… seeing the look on his face… was just too delicious not to revel in. But no, right now the threat Luigi posed to his plans did not compare with the suspicion it’d elicit if he disappeared. Despite Bowser’s claims, the surrounding Toads were already inquiring about Luigi’s absence and well-being. Just today, a wrinkled old codger named Enoki approached him to ask whether Luigi would be able to play cards with him that weekend. Bowser had done his best to imitate Mario’s intonations when he explained Luigi was “not feeling well” with feigned concern, so forced he felt on the verge of biting off his own tongue. Thankfully, Enoki bought the claim wholeheartedly, and even gave him a bag of loose-leaf tea to take home “for his brother's nerves.” Bowser accepted with a feigned thankfulness and threw the gift into the nearest garbage once he was out of the old man’s line of sight.

At length, Luigi’s eyes fluttered open. Seeing his brother’s form standing over him, his gaze widened. He shuddered under a fresh wave of fear, and little bolts of electricity sparked across his skin. Bowser huffed. “I suppose you’re wondering why you’re not dead?” Luigi didn’t speak. He clutched his throat with one hand and tried to push himself upright with the other, head lowered and eyes shut in apparent expectation of another attack.

“Don’t be so paranoid,” Bowser continued “You’d be far more of an inconvenience dead than alive. A nobody creates far less stir than the corpse of a nobody. But you did just try to attack me. What do you think I should do about that?”

Again, Luigi said nothing. While Bowser had initially enjoyed his fear-stricken silence, it began to feel more like defiance than submission. Seeing the plumber attempt to get to his feet, Bowser knocked the hat from his head with a sharp kick to the back of his skull and grabbed a fistful of hair. Forgetting his own shortness of stature, Bowser tried to lift Luigi all the way off the ground by his scalp. When all he could manage was to drag him halfway to his knees, he chose instead to twist his head at a purposefully painful angle.

“Answer me.” Luigi winced. His lip quivered as though he was trying to say something, but all that he managed was a pathetic squeak. Bowser leaned in closer to his “brother,” his lips unsettlingly close to his ear as he asked in a low growl: “Maybe if you’re so intent on imitating your sibling, I should bring you a little piece of him for inspiration? A few fingers, perhaps? Or better yet, one of his eyes…” This was a bluff, of course. The real Mario was imprisoned deep within The Darklands, chained up inside the hulking body Bowser used to inhabit. Though the thought of carrying out the threat was tantalizing, there could come a point where he’d need his old body back, and if Mario felt as disconnected from that body as he felt in this one, then mutilating him would be a waste. But Luigi didn’t know that. That was made clear by his reaction.

“No!” A hoarse plea finally burst from the man’s mouth. He clasped the hand that gripped his hair to ease the pain but didn’t dare struggle beyond that. “Please don’t! I’m sorry.”

Bowser tugged Luigi’s head back to better examine his face. Tears were already forming in his eyes, pouring down his cheeks. Disgusting. He’d forgotten this one was a cryer. It was easy to forget, for he had never known anyone of worth who cried. Junior was an exception, of course, but he was a still child– new to the world and his own emotions. Luigi was a grown man, a hero, allegedly, and yet he whimpered and sniffled as though it would garner any sort of pity. “You’re what?” Bowser growled. “Say that again.” “I’m sor-”

Bowser interrupted the second attempt at an apology by slamming his knee into Luigi’s stomach. He released him then, allowing him to crumble back to the floor at his feet. “Huh, I didn’t quite hear that. Say it again.”

Luigi’s whole body shivered, trying its best to cling to consciousness in its renewed struggle for air. “I’m… s-sorry.”

“Again. Louder.”

“I’m sorry!” Luigi’s voice steadily rose in pitch and volume as his breath returned to him, the tears in his throat and the bruises on his windpipe cracking his speech. “I’m sorry!”

The shrieky tone elicited a chuckle of genuine amusement from Bowser. After the stress of masquerading in his hated enemy's body for so long, seeing someone regard him with the fear and deference he deserved was a long-awaited bit of gratification. Taking advantage of the situation, Bowser made a little game of seeing how many times he could elicit an apology, and, of course, a crucial element of the fun was seeing to it Luigi stayed on the floor at his feet. Whenever the plumber tried to stand or crawl away, a sharp kick to the ribs or a stomp planted into the square of his back would send him back down to the ground.

But by “I’m sorry” number fifty-eight, Bowser grew bored. 

So, with confident idleness, he abandoned Luigi in order to look around his nemesis’ home in search of fresh inspiration for what was to be done. Funny as the groveling was, there was a chance Luigi’s change of behavior wouldn’t last long. He didn’t trust him not to delude himself into attempting another “heroic” stunt once left to his own devices. It was crucial to get the message through. It didn’t take long for Bowser to find the staircase. The upper story was a bigger disappointment than the lower one, made up of only a shared bedroom and a bathroom, connected by a narrow hallway. Their cottage as a whole was far too small and simple for his liking, even when he was as physically diminutive as Mario. After all he had done for The Mushroom Kingdom, he should’ve at least been granted a small castle of his own.

Bowser entered the bedroom and looked around, wondering if there was anything there of value or information to be gleaned. No good, everything was trivial: comics and fantasy novels on the shelf, posters for small local bands hanging on the wall, multiple pairs of the same stupid overalls hanging in the closet. Atop the little table between matching red and green beds, there were a number of paper crafts. They were shoddily made… no doubt gifts by the local children. In a moment of impulse, Bowser ignited firebrand and released a little red flame to crawl across the corner of one of the paper stars. Finding a strange comfort in the sight, he allowed the fire to steadily spread to the other origami structures, and when its light began to fade he reinvigorated it with the flick of his hand. He ignited two more fires for good measure, one on the corner of Mario’s bed, another on the corner of Luigi’s, where the flames eagerly climbed up the downy quilts, swallowing the vibrant colors and filling the air with smoke.

He neither noticed nor cared when Luigi raced up the stairs. By the time the man in green had arrived, the fire had spread to the walls and the carpet, the rising flames painting little black spots on the ceiling.

“Looks like I was a little careless.” Bowser shrugged, watching the room burn with perfect calmness, “you may want to do something about this if you want to save your house.” Once Luigi overcame the paralysis of horror and disbelief, he disappeared back down the stairs. He was only gone for a few moments before he returned, armed with a fire extinguisher. Bowser stepped aside, allowing him to dive into the room and spray it down with a thick layer of white foam. When the smoke cleared and the heat died down, Bowser got a better look at his handiwork. The framework of the house still stood strong, but there was not a thing in the bedroom that the fire hadn’t marred, the vibrant reds and greens dulled and charred from the blaze, every furnishing and appurtenance disfigured. In the middle of it all was Luigi, holding the now empty fire extinguisher. He was making a valiant attempt to hide that he was crying again, harder than before, wiping at his face with his sleeve, airborne ash mingling with his tears, streaking his cheeks with soot. Bowser rolled his eyes. “I suppose you’d better get to work fixing this. Given your mental state, a project this big should help you occupy your troubled mind.” He nudged Luigi’s shoulder with a mocking friendliness, reveling in the way he tensed beneath his hand. “It’s probably best that you stay at home, anyway. And you will be staying home from now on, right?”

Luigi’s arms tightened around the fire extinguisher. Bowser readied himself, just in case the plumber suffered another flash of impulsive bravery and tried to swing it at him. But Luigi pulled no such stunt… he simply lowered his head and nodded.

Satisfied, Bowser left without another word. Heading down the stairs and crossing through the shattered remains of the living room, he shut the door firmly behind him before he hurried down the steps of “his” home, and headed back down the road toward the glimmering pink castle in the distance.

The first order of business would be to go into town and make sure whatever toads had seen the smoke were reassured that everything was under control; that the fire didn’t do much damage, and was “more smoke than flames.” Then, he would meet with the squadron of Koopas he had successfully snuck behind the palace walls. After exchanging intel, he would select a few to watch the outside of Mario’s house and ensure Luigi honored the agreement.

Halfway back to his destination, Bowser rolled up his sleeves slightly to reexamine the electric burns on his arms. He frowned, wondering if he had been too lenient. Luigi was no Mario, but the fact that he tried defying him at all was worthy of concern. Bowser decided then that at the next hint of insolence, the very slightest sign of defiance, Luigi would officially no longer be worth the trouble of keeping around.

In the meantime, however, he was at the very least entertaining.

[apencilandpen]

a truth so loud you can't ignore

[rawliverandgoronspice]

tbh, and that's just my two cents, I think that when we leave our little corner of ganonfans and try to bring out concerns to the larger Outside World trying to convince other people, it's a little more useful at large to center criticisms of Zelda and its narrative outside of what canon states (so in "doylist terms", tho I don't really like that separation but it might be easier to understand), because most of the content that criticizes Hyrule within the games is subtextual and neutered at best (not something meant to be picked up by their core audience of "children who do not come from an oppressed background"), and also because it would be soooo super easy for Nintendo to say "no we never meant any of that in any way :>", which would effectively slam the conversation shut for many people who were skeptical to begin with.

While it's extremely easy to say "no of course Nintendo would never want their good guys to come from a genocidal nation, so they obviously don't", which sounds like a coherent argument, it becomes wayyy harder to brush off the whole "Nintendo chose to repeatedly uphold the exceptional perfection of a white nation whose ruling class comes from a divine birthline while demonizing the only evil men from the explicitely arab-inspired culture, leaving the rest of their women to grovel in eternal apologies and convert to the dominant religion in order to prove the depth of their remorse" without starting to spew out bullshit arguments that fall apart at the first brush of scrutiny or reveal their own racism in the process.

I'm not saying there *aren't* hyrulean genocidal strikes within the canon itself, because there obviously are, but I'd say that to even begin to be willing to see them, you need first to admit the entire Zelda narrative has concerning priorities when it comes to the framing of the events taking place in its lore, or the need to even touch such topics to begin with, that it has concerning echoes to real life history, and so there is a genuine need to challenge that framing at all.