#all memory of that concept is banished from the universe forever
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I want a sims 4 mod that let's non-werewolves have soulmates like the werewolf fated mate system but the only one I can find hasn't been updated and the only other mod w a soulmate mechanic is am omegaverse mod and like. I don't think I'm ready for the level of stress that would add to. literally every save?????
#shut up az#I already can't play w the WW period and condom shit enabled bc of the stress#I have problems remembering to brush my own teeth and you want me to change a video game characters tampon every 4 hours?#no. also fuck you.#if you add heats and fucking suppressants and rejection sickness???? I'd kill myself first#omegaverse is fun to read about and also my own personal hell#thinking about being autistic in the omegaverse makes me want to throw myself into a black hole so when my molecules are torn apart#all memory of that concept is banished from the universe forever
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Wasted verses ushers quirky pathetic oeuvre
HENCE....herewith, a post (traumatic)
stressed disordered poetic whim
to summarize fantasy
incorrigible lottery dreamer
paradise visage and eyes zapping, swatting, and battling
a bulge with dollar signs
whets imagination with
Mega Million ticket bought
temptation for instant millions
human foible to reach
for elusive pot of gold
streak of universal desire for potential wealth
overtakes rational self
with delusions of grandeur caught
allow, enable and provide flirtation with fate to experience rich draught
envision emancipation from penury
a distant battle fought
expect the usual outcome after next drawing
to yield monetary windfall naught
impossible mission
to banish tantalizing thought
and fully block and tackle
hard scrapple existence wrought.
When (countless moons ago)
progeny discovered girlhood insights, I did wholeheartedly love and adore
who rushed into my arms
whenever back from trivial pursuits at the core
when casually and nonchalantly
turn the key to open the front door
legal tender in such precious chronically in short supply within family
catch bull at four
inviting me to play make believe
games being King Midas on the floor
boot budding young lady begotten girls
nearly squeezing out digested gore
akin to the finest crafted clock work
to sound the time of day
they danced and frolicked
like kittens or puppies
though at times I desired
them to bring newspaper
and slippers questioning
reciprocating sharing silly concocted faux pa lore
at least another son or daughter more
at such urge (long silenced
of this ram by ewe gnu who) did vehemently (cue
Katy Perry's pet lioness) to roar
enjoying revelry without keeping score
yet…creating memories
I will forever store.
Financial straits affected
our existence hand to mouth
all grandiose aspirations to succeed
in life frequently head south.
Creative healthy endeavors
find excitement and linguistic pleasure
thru the attempt
reasonably rhyming aligned
words that synchronize suitably
in poetic third eye blind
delivered by one blessed
angel (beating tom tom club) in disguise
redemption and salvation
considered thankful find
readers may espy hidden puns
within this rhyme lined
with challenges or commiserate
and complement via words of positive kind
although large sum of money
would be a dog send
to pry poem or prose from mind
deliberate semblance to communicate
and extract idea from cranial rind
loosening pent up tension to unwind
Much rather be cursed
with excess wealth
deliverance to life, liberty
never to rue by stealth
and mental health
depravity foreign concept
as is the obsolete word dealth; A share dealt out; a portion or division.
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Paxton and Amal Chapter 7
This Chapter was lovingly edited by the amazing: @finder-of-rings
Tag list: @albino-whumpee @orchidscript @finder-of-rings @haro-whumps
CW: very brief mention of a past transphobic parent, very brief mention of past parental neglect and past domestic abuse, emotional breakdown, character with no concept of self-worth, modernized slavery typical for the Boxboy universe
Amal sat at the kitchen table flipping through the Boxboy-manual, mood growing sour like the coffee beside him with every page turn. He should have left it in the attic to rot alongside this damned box.
“Discipline is a necessary and humane event ensuring the continued obedience and well-being of a pet,” announced the headline of the next chapter in bold black letters, stating cruelty as detached and matter-of-factly as the conversion camp brochure Amal’s step father had come home with shortly after his outing.
Nearly throwing the booklet against the wall Amal jumped up, grabbed the already cooled coffee pot, kicked a stool in front of the refrigerator, hopped on it and shoved the mug into the microwave, fingertip whitening under the force with which he hit the start button.
The words burned like bile on his tongue, hardening his resolve to let no further hurt carve itself into Paxtons skin, cut deep through soft flesh and past brittle bone to settle and twist someplace beyond blood or teeth or body.
Not one to waste much time thinking about the upper-crust and their exorbitance, Amal had never paid much attention to WRU and the whole pet trade, aside from very briefly considering it during his week of homelessness, but this manual, this entire fucked-up situation made him itch with the urge to tear this raging garbage fire of a company down.
The microwave beeped and Amal burned himself as he took the mug out, his own searing hot anger leaving him numb to the ceramic-mug's heat for a second. He cursed as the pain set in, placing the coffee down hastily and spilling some over the table and booklet.
Growing steadily angrier, he snatched Paxton’s papers and purchase contract up, saving it from the brown liquid. Getting questioned or dismissed later at the store because he didn’t have his paperwork in order was the least thing Amal wanted to deal with today. As he dabbed up the residue coffee, Amal heard the apartment door open.
Meryem's worried voice wafted through the hallway as she attempted to sooth Paxton’s strained sobs.
Amal was up in an instant, rushing into the hallway to find Paxton in a stammering, sobbing puddle beside Meryem. Various big paper bags stood around them, packed to the brim with old sweaters, jeans and jackets.
Spotting his master with desperate, tear filled eyes, Paxton stumbled forward, falling forward at his master’s feet and pressing his forehead into Amal’s leg. He was barely able to force words out between all his sniffles and wheezes.
“Pleasepleaseplease. Master. I tried- tried to eh-explain to to to Miss Meryem tha- that I- I wou- would... would never...”
Helplessness held his heart hostage as Amal found Meryem's eyes, looking every bit like the panicked child he felt right now.
Paxton cried harder against his legs and an ancient resolve awoke in Amal’s heart anew. Pushing his own panic aside to grab someone’s hand and pull them out of whichever dark place they had lost themselves in had long since become muscle memory to him.
Amal dropped to his knees, catching teardrops with his thumbs and rubbing gentle circles in Paxton’s cheeks. For the first time in forever, he felt his chest go tight, throat closing up at Paxton’s pain. It banished the autopilot numbness Amal had long since accepted as part of himself, born in those countless mourning hours after family fights where he had held his mother close, wishing he had the strength to let go, to turn away and let her fall into the grave she dug them both, over and over and over again. This time, he did not want to let go. Did not want to turn away.
Amal met Paxton’s tear glazed gaze head on.
“Ssshhh. It’s okay. Just take some deep breaths for me now. Deep breaths. In and out. Just like that, very good.”
His own breath was shaky, catching as Paxton pressed his fever warm face into Amal’s sweaty palms, ever so slowly calming down.
“Okay. Good. Very good. Now, what did you try to explain to Meryem, Pax?”
Paxtons voice still shook a little as he answered. “That I don’t- don’t deserve all tho- those nice...clothes. I know I ha- haven’t earned them... yet. I know better than... than to take what... I haven’t earned. I would never... never do that. Please believe me Master I would never, please...don’t punish-”
Remembering the cursed manual, Amal tugged Paxton into his arms, trying to make himself bigger than he was, bigger than he felt and envelop as much of Paxtons quivering body with his own small form as he could. Hands rubbing over a shaking bent back, Amal’s cheek rested against tousled black hair that tickled his lips. He pressed a kiss to Paxton’s scalp, feeling him freeze in his arms.
“I need you to listen to me now, okay?”
Feeling Paxton’s minuscule nod tickle against his cheek, Amal continued.
“You do not have to earn anything here. Okay? You deserve all the clothes you could possibly wear in a lifetime. All the food you could ever eat. You deserve a warm safe place to just BE. To just be in peace. To just exist without any preconditions.” Amal nearly choked on the words he’d recited to himself like a mantra, words that he still had trouble believing in sometimes but he pressed on. “You deserve to be loved, just because you’re alive.”
Sniffling sorely, Paxton untucked himself from Amal. His gray, red-rimmed eyes had dried as he looked up at Amal.
“I’m sorry, sir but I... I don’t understand.”
Heat seeped into Amal’s cold hand as he held it to Paxton’s forehead, drawing a soft whine from him as he melted into the touch. Amal’s knees ached faintly from sitting so long on the hard hallway floor but the truth of his words soothed his hurting heart.
“Just believe me for now. You’ll understand later.”
#paxton and amal#paxton and amal series#paxton the box boy#boxboy#box boy#boxboys#box boys#bbu#boxboy universe#wru the series#WRU#whump#pet whump#boxboy whump#tw modern slavery#tw abuse#tw past abuse#tw past trauma#hurt and comfort
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In the Beginning ... (Rated PG)
What if Aziraphale’s job on Earth, in part, was to keep an eye on Crowley because God realized She’d made a mistake banishing him from Heaven? (2378 words)
Notes: I’m sure other people have written this, but here’s mine XD
“Aziraphale?”
A holy light shines down upon the angel currently scrambling to fit the last grey brick from a rather large hole in the great stone wall back into place. He spins around quickly in response, nearly twisting an ankle in the soft, disturbed earth.
“Yes, Almighty?” he replies, shielding his eyes from a glare that glows brighter second by second, as if God’s goal is to blind him on the spot. “H-how may I help you?” He worries his hands, then throws them behind his back so as not to bring attention to the fact that something those hands should be holding, something the Almighty gave him specifically to do his job, is now gone, paving its flaming way to the outskirts, clutched tightly in the hands of the first man protecting the first woman, both of them banished to the wilds beyond.
Banished for disobeying God, which he, too, has done.
‘Heaven help me,’ Aziraphale thinks, which smacks of irony seeing as he’s begging for help from those he’s just betrayed.
Any way he looks at it, he’s doomed.
He hopes Adam and Eve don’t walk too quickly. He may be catching up with them in a minute.
“Aziraphale, my dear,” God says, Her voice motherly sweet. “Come. Stand with me. I desire to talk with you.”
“All right,” Aziraphale agrees. No sooner does he say it then he’s standing at his post overlooking the Garden of Eden, and the apple tree he’d been tasked to guard.
The one that slipped his notice right when a giant snake tempted Eve into eating the fruit she’d been warned to avoid.
‘This is it. Banishment.’ He steals a final look at the glorious Paradise he’ll never set eyes upon again. He just got this appointment, too. It was a stepping stone, coming on the heels of another promotion set to begin soon.
Now, he’s finished.
But would he change a thing? he asks himself privately. If the situation presented itself again, would he do anything different? Would he second-guess giving up something valuable, something God-given, to protect the vulnerable and the innocent?
No, he answers honestly. He doesn’t think he would.
Aziraphale stands in silence beside the shaft of light, God’s ethereal form, for some time, ready to defend himself and his actions, before it becomes too much for him and he clears his throat to speak.
“God?” he starts. “Might I inquire as to what it is you wish to speak to me about?”
God heaves a heavy sigh.
A disappointed sigh.
Aziraphale’s stomach drops to his feet.
“Aziraphale,” she says sorrowfully, “I may have made a mistake.”
“That … that doesn’t make sense. You don’t make mistakes.”
“I created the concept of a mistake. I definitely make them.”
“What kind of mistake?” Aziraphale asks when he knows he should be holding his tongue. A sudden chill freezes him solid. Why would God be confiding in him this which sounds so utterly important if it didn’t concern him directly? “Is it me? Am … am I the mistake?”
“No, my love. You are not a mistake. Not by a long shot.”
Aziraphale sighs so deeply he shrinks a foot. “That’s a relief.”
“Do you see that demon over there?” God directs her light on the apple tree, the Tree of Knowledge, and a scaled, red-bellied creature slithering swiftly out of sight.
“I … I see a serpent.”
“Look with your third eye.”
The serpent burrows into the earth then as if it knows it’s being watched. Aziraphale squints to catch a glimpse of it past God’s golden glow before it disappears. “Ah, yes. I see now.”
“Just like you, that demon was once an angel. But now …” Another heavy sigh “… he is Fallen.”
“H-how? Why?” The words slip past his tongue before he can think better of it. He shudders with the feeling that he’s taking a huge risk questioning God.
“I banished him. Tossed him out of Paradise,” She explains succinctly and says nothing more. “And I realize now that I may have been a bit hasty with that decision.”
“If you feel you have made a mistake,” Aziraphale says, choosing his words carefully, “why not reverse it? Bring him back?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s not?”
“Unfortunately, no. You see, all of my creations have their part to play in the Universe. And when I set them on their path, no matter what that path is, how it may change, they must remain, headed in one direction. Once an angel is Fallen, there is no way they can return. That’s where I’m hoping you come in.”
Aziraphale looks away from the hole the serpent escaped into and up at the light that is God. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“You and he are similar. You have the same pure heart, you cling to the same truths, though you execute them differently. You’re opposite sides of the same coin.”
Aziraphale frowns. “Coin?”
“You’ll find out about those later,” God dismisses. “I need you to help me keep an eye on him, Aziraphale.”
Aziraphale nods. This he understands. “So that his doing Evil deeds doesn’t prevail over the greater good.” He folds his hands in front of his stomach and puffs his chest with pride of his appointment. “Gabriel already told me.”
“Gabriel is wrong. Though, by the time the two of you meet, you won’t remember I’ve said that. In fact, you won’t remember this conversation at all.”
“Why won’t I?”
“Free will. In order for you to take this particular assignment, you can’t remember that it is an assignment.”
“Forgive me for my confusion, but what exactly is it you need me to do?” Aziraphale asks, mildly disappointed that the great role he was supposed to play in the evolution of the Earth, the inspiration of all humanity, may now be changed, demoted, due to the fate of one single demon.
“I need you to make sure nothing too bad happens to him, Aziraphale. Oh, he’ll do Evil. He’s a demon, and as such, must do demonic things, but … I want him to know that no matter what, he is loved.”
“If … if you erase my memory then how will I remember to do that?”
“You won’t need to.” God chuckles. “Within five minutes of meeting you, he’s going to fall hopelessly in love with you.”
Aziraphale’s face scrunches. “Really?”
“Yes. From this day forward, he’ll devise plans to ensure that the two of you forever meet throughout time.”
“Yes, I see. I suppose you’ve … you’ve planned it that way.”
“You underestimate yourself, my dear. That I will play little part in.”
“But … don’t you control everything?”
“Again, it’s confusing. The only answer I can give you is yes and no. Will you do it?”
“Why are you asking me? Can’t you simply make me do what you want? Set me in motion the way you set him in motion?” With a wince, Aziraphale notices how bitter that came across. He doesn’t question God’s ways, but that doesn’t mean he always appreciates Her line of thinking.
“No. Not when it comes to love. You have to decide this for yourself or it won’t turn out the same. The outcome won’t be genuine. Also edicts of this nature would need to pass through the head office, and I don’t want the Archangels knowing about this request. It’s top secret.”
“Top secret?” Aziraphale repeats, tossing God’s request over and over in his head. Down below he sees the serpent surface again. It looks up at them, tilts its head, and grins (if a serpent can grin. Normal serpents can’t but a demonic serpent probably can …). It ducks beneath the earth once more and disappears. “If I do this, will it be for the good of humanity?”
“Yes? No? Possibly? This one time, that can’t be the crux of your decision making.”
Aziraphale’s eyes unfocus as he considers what God has said. He feels better knowing that this assignment isn’t a demotion, but he still has to wonder … why him? Why would God choose a principality for something like this, especially if it’s this important? Wouldn’t an Archangel be better suited for a mission of this kind? Keeping tabs on a demon should fall somewhere in their purview.
Unless this top secret mission isn’t as important as God is making it out to be and just a fancy way of assigning Aziraphale to babysitting duty.
“Will he really fall in love with me?” Aziraphale asks, unsure why it matters. It should matter because he’s a being of love, but it surprises him how much that doesn’t seem to enter into his thinking. It matters because it matters, whether he can explain why that is or not.
“Yes,” God says, matter-of-factly.
“Will I … fall in love with him?”
“Eventually, but it’ll take a bit longer.”
“H-how long?”
“That depends on you, Aziraphale. But right now, time is running short. The demon is coming, so I need to know how you wish to proceed.”
“I think I should …” Aziraphale pauses when Gabriel’s voice, of all things, leaps into his brain.
“Your job on Earth will be to inspire humanity.”
“Inspire humanity to do what?”
“To be good. Follow the rules. And to, you know, love … one another,” the Archangel replied uncomfortably.
“Yes, of course,” Aziraphale said. “I read that in the literature I received. Thank you for that, by the way. What I need to know is how, exactly, am I supposed to do that? I have a general idea but what are my parameters? Do I have any guidelines?”
Gabriel blew out a breath and made a face. “Not really my department.”
“Oh,” Aziraphale replied, as lost then as he is right now.
Did anyone in Heaven know what was going on?
Inspire humanity. Inspire them to be good. To be compassionate and kind. To be loyal to God.
To help one another. Love one another.
That was a huge undertaking, no matter how Gabriel sneered and smirked when he mentioned it.
Aziraphale could do both jobs in tandem – inspire humanity and look after this demon. So no, not a demotion. Besides, it’s a top secret mission bestowed upon him by God Herself! Is he really going to say no?
It’s the love aspect that he’s having trouble wrapping his mind around. Love humanity he understood. But love a demon? And not necessarily for the sake of humanity? That part has been left to interpretation, apparently, but that’s not the point.
Love a demon.
A demon who will fall in love with him.
And make sure he knows God loves him still.
Because God may have made a mistake.
Oh, and fall in love himself, as if that’s something he can easily overlook.
That’s everything!
His stomach takes a turn and dammit! Why wasn’t he looking after that stupid apple tree the way he’d been supposed to!?
He doesn’t feel prepared to make this decision on the fly. He hasn’t entirely come to terms with what eternity as a whole will hold for him. This is the beginning. What happens in the middle?
What happens at the end!?
But while he ponders these quandaries, his mouth speaks unexpectedly for him.
“I’ll do it,” his mouth decides.
“Excellent!”
“Yes, excellent,” Aziraphale mutters, shuffling uncomfortably in place. “So, when do I begin?”
“Somewhere around … now.”
Aziraphale hears a sharp crack, like fingers snapping. Or could it be thunder? He thought he saw a fork of lightning out in the distance. Thunder would surely follow. Still, he can’t help the feeling that he was talking to someone about something important, but he can’t remember where they left off.
Or who they were.
“Sorry. What was that?” Aziraphale looks about him, confused. He’s at his post on top of the wall, the Eastern Gate of Eden, only he can’t recall how he got there. He’d been down in the garden giving those poor people his sword. He’d finished repairing the wall when he saw a light. He thought the Almighty had caught him, come to reprimand him, but now he’s back here.
Why can’t he remember what happened in between?
He turns his head left and right, then left again when the body of a snake rises up and transforms into the human-shaped figure of a demon dressed in long black robes and spreading glossy black wings.
“I said, ‘Well, that one went down like a lead balloon,’” the demon says, staring out over Eden forlorn, as if searching for a way home.
Aziraphale straightens, unnerved by the thousand nonsensical emotions erupting inside his brain, bursting like poppies with explosive colors and pungent aromas, dizzying him with unasked questions. “Oh,” he says, coming back to himself. “Yes, it did, rather.”
***
“Angel …”
Aziraphale startles. He turns and looks at his companion handing him the bottle of wine they’ve been sharing.
“Hmm?” he says in response.
“What if the Almighty planned it this way all along?” Crowley asks, gazing across the bus stop bench at Aziraphale, serpent eyes behind dark lenses hoping for an answer, some insight that only an angel might have that he is too far removed from. “From the very beginning?”
“Could have.” Aziraphale grabs the bottle by the neck and takes a swig. It tastes bitter, like truth. The realization that this ineffable plan – ineffable game, really – that God has devised isn’t just for the world, but for all Her creations, including them. They had played a part in it, too, regardless of how small, impotent, and in the end, unimportant that part was. But that begs the question - if saving the world wasn’t their particular goal then what was? What did they get out of all of this? Had the world exploded, they would have survived one way or the other. So why involve them?
The thing they got out of it, Aziraphale discovered, is the thing he refuses to acknowledge yet - not because it’s bad (in his eyes) but because it would be selfish of him to do so.
They got one another.
Was that part of God’s plan, too?
Aziraphale shrugs.
He’s not drunk enough to decide.
“I wouldn’t put it past Her.”
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Part 6: The Keyblade Worf
And now for the main event, the game that truly wrought ruination upon the Kingdom Hearts series: Birth by Sleep.
All that this game had to do was tell its Revenge of the Sith rip-off story and be over with, but Nomura just wouldn't stop at that. He used BBS to force connections to the KH Trinity that didn't need to exist, all so that he could claim it was all part of the "Dark Seeker Saga" the whole time.
Some of it was fine: we got to see how Xehanort lost his memory and was found by Ansem the Wise, how Maleficent went from just the villain of her world to a universal threat, what Radiant Garden was like in its prime, and even what the deal with Castle Oblivion really was. But so many other choices made were just nonsensical.
Sora's newborn heart somehow has the power to connect with Ventus' shattered heart and heal it? And this somehow leads to Sora developing the same face as Ven, and Vanitas to develop the same hairstyle and voice of Sora? Whut!?
And Ventus looks and sounds exactly like Roxas, and when his heart goes to sleep inside of Sora's at the end the implication is that it's that part of Sora's heart that Roxas is made from, and that somehow explains why he looks and sounds the way he does and why he has feelings and why he can dual wield and...Whut!?
Terra meets Riku as a little boy on Destiny Islands and decides to have him inherit his Keyblade just because Riku suddenly is given the same motivation to leave his home as Terra, wanting to be strong in order to protect his friends? Why? Protect them from what, exactly? Riku's motivation was just curiosity and the desire to fulfill some greater destiny out of his sense of insecurity, not to "gain strength to protect what matters". And somehow Terra choosing him to inherit his Keyblade causes him to become the destined wielder of the Kingdom Key, an entirely different Keyblade? Whut!?
Aqua, meanwhile, performs the Rite of Passage on Kairi by accident? Because that still doesn't explain where Kairi’s Keyblade comes from, just how she can wield it. And she then purposefully casts a spell on her necklace so that if she's ever in danger, her heart's light will be led to the light of another to keep her safe, which is supposed to explain how she got to Destiny Islands after Xehanort cast her out into space. Except that we already had an explanation for that, Xehanort wrote about it in his report: it's all about Kairi's connection to the Keyblade wielder due to her status as a Princess of Heart. But now that's being discarded and it's just some nebulous magic from Aqua that did it? Whut!?
Donald and Goofy show up in Yen Sid's Tower and see several Keyblade wielders. But somehow they forget what a Keyblade is by Kingdom Hearts, and they forget that Yen Sid lives in that very tower by Kingdom Hearts II! Whut!?
It was said in KH2 that Mickey banished Pete to another dimension for serious crimes, and that Pete was never supposed to get out from it and only did so because Maleficent freed him. But here, Minnie banishes him due to a petty misdemeanor and it's said to only be a time-out that wouldn't be permanent! And somehow Maleficent instantly thinks that he would be a useful ally to her, all because of a petty misdemeanor? Whut!?
When Sora glares at Xigbar in KH2, Xigbar says "he used to give me that same exact look!" Obviously, this was written to refer to Roxas. But now it refers to Ventus, who glares at him a grand total of ONCE and who is the only one not to fight Braig which means he should have a greater impression of the other two, yet it's Ven that he remembers the most? Whut!?
Lea and Isa show up as teenagers in Radiant Garden, even though nothing in any previous game remotely hinted that Radiant Garden was their home world? And Lea's brief meeting with Ventus is supposed to explain his deep friendship with Roxas? And he had the "Got it Memorized?" catchphrase even back then? Whut!?
Master Xehanort came from Destiny Islands? And somehow years later, Riku has heard stories of when he'd left his home behind as a boy? And now that brief speech Ansem made in the first game that was so obviously talking about Riku is actually talking about Master Xehanort? Whut!?
And then there are all the weird call-forwards that don't make any sense: the black coat of Organization XIII first being worn by Master Xehanort, Ventus waking up in the Land of Departure exactly like Roxas woke up in Twilight Town at the start of KH2, the scene introducing Aqua and Terra being an exact mirror of the scene introducing Kairi and Riku in the original game, the Paopu Fruit somehow being known by Aqua even though Destiny Islands is supposed to be a non-important backwater world, Kairi's grandmother telling the same fairy tale to Kairi, Aqua meeting Sora and Riku and somehow predicting the future of what will happen to Riku while making a literal child swear to keep him safe, and all of the repeated dialogue like Ansem's big Darkness speech, "My friends are my power!", and "Giving up already? C'mon, I thought you were stronger than that!"...an incredibly minor line in the original game that is somehow repeated here twice. WHUT!?
Nomura doesn't understand that just because he connects this game to much better ones or rehashes things from them doesn't mean that it's automatically of that same caliber. There isn't anything clever or meaningful about any of it, and it just makes it feel like the game is compensating for its lack of heart.
This extends to the main characters - Terra, Aqua and Ventus - as well. Just because they're connected to characters we like and are deliberately made to be reminiscent of characters we like, it doesn't mean that they're automatically likable characters. Repeating dialogue and motions from Sora, Riku and Kairi doesn't make them as good as Sora, Riku and Kairi. Constantly talking about what good friends they are rather than showing it isn't going to make us believe in their friendship. The tragedy that this game and the whole Dark Seeker Saga is hinging upon falls flatter than a pancake when it only happens because the main characters are jerks and idiots who lack basic communication skills.
And in the end, even the basic Star Wars knock-off story falters when paired with the KH Trinity, as all of the stuff centered around this ancient Keyblade order, the Keyblade War and the X-Blade are not remotely hinted at in those games. And yet much like Xion, every game following their introduction deals with them in some capacity, even to the point of actively ruining characters and concepts that the KH Trinity introduced which are still inexplicably hanging around. Once Nomura puts something on to the table, he never seems to want to take it off. Look, I love macaroni and cheese, but whenever I have it placed in front of me on a table I ultimately have to finish eating it! If I just keep on eating macaroni and cheese without end, then I'm going to get sick and throw it all up! I'm not sure if this metaphor is landing or not, but hopefully you get the picture. "Too much of a good thing" is very real, but whatever Nomura thinks is good he just wants to keep going forever, even if that means it turns into vomit.
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Eclipso #1
Remember the early 90s when DC desperately tried to make Eclipso a serious threat?
Okay. Motivation spelled out pretty clearly on the third page.
According to this comic book, Eclipso killed the dove Noah sent out of the ark that time it never returned. This comic book doesn't mention the raven that Noah sent out and then refused to let back on the ark even though it was trying to warn him of the psychopathic asshole wading through the receding waters waiting to murder everybody on the ark. Does that mean Eclipso has some kind of relationship with God? Maybe Eclipso is the one who created the flood because God promised him everything would die in it. And then God fucking betrayed Eclipso and allowed a whole bunch of creatures to survive. Although the most probably explanation of this moment is that Giffen and Fleming needed a quick way to portray Eclipso as some kind of legendary evil. What better way than to make him practically immortal and associate him with the greatest massacre in the "history" of mankind (perpetrated by fucking God himself, the diabolical monster!)? In the present, Eclipso has taken possession of a South American guy with a grudge against his village. He was cast out for unknown reasons (probably really fucking good reasons!) but it was enough of an excuse for Eclipso to possess him to grant him vengeance. So I guess that's Eclipso's thing, just like I speculated based on the cover pretty much telling me exactly that. I'm good at understanding! Eclipso possesses people so that they can get revenge then helps them murder as many people as possible so that everything will eventually be killed. But can Eclipso really kill everybody on Earth during the finite amount of time during eclipses? I bet more babies are born during an eclipse than Eclipso can kill! As Eclipso thinks about his recent past, the editor makes sure the readers know he's talking about the big blockbuster Eclipso event in the annuals. But he also mentions something that happened in Valor #1 and my initial reaction was, "Like fuck I'm going to read that." My second reaction was, "I'm pretty sure I own that comic book and it's in the current stack of old comic books to read." I hate myself. Eclipso discovers that the people of the village he just murdered have stockpiled tons of cocaine. So now he's going to run a criminal drug enterprise to fund his murder spree. I suppose he can possess more than one person at a time with the use of his black diamonds. And I think he can continue to possess them even if there's no eclipse? But if that's the case, why the fucking stupid name? Maybe he's just more powerful during an eclipse. Or maybe the only way somebody can shake his possessing spirit is by exposure to sunlight. So he's really just kind of a shitty vampire. Eclipso gives a little Eclipso history lesson for the newer readers.
"The dark side of the moon" doesn't actually mean it never gets sunlight, you stupid turd. The entire concept of his name comes from an event where "the dark side of the moon" is bathed in sunlight!
It could be I'm not parsing Eclipso's speech correctly. Maybe he means that by being banished to the dark side of the moon, he was forever having to hid from the sun whenever the dark side was turned toward the sun. Maybe he means he wasn't susceptible to sunlight until he was banished to the dark side of the moon. But then the assumption, I think, is that he was in the dark for so long that sunlight became his greatest weakness. There's a few possible interpretations here and while some people might like to give Giffen and Fleming the benefit of the doubt, I would rather rake them over the coals and call them fucking idiots. Fucking idiots. Eclipso abandons his possessed man in the hopes that the black diamond will pass on to The Count, the man who was using them to grow and process the cocaine. In works and The Count is an angry man who easily falls victim to the darkness in his heart. Now Eclipso is the kingpin in an international drug smuggling operation. Seems like a weird and boring place to start his super villain career but maybe drug smuggling stories weren't as played out in 1992 as they seem to be today. Or are they? People fucking still eat that shit up, don't they?! Eclipso murders The Count's wife just in case any readers weren't sure if they should root for him or not. Certain readers almost certainly only began rooting for him after he threw The Count's wife out of the second story window. Here at Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea, we prefer to pretend that those kinds of readers don't exist. Oh, sure, sometimes I'll reference them if I want to mock their weaselly little beta cuck beliefs. Mostly though, I only remember they exist when one of them becomes irate because I called Deathstroke a pedophile. Imagine that being the thing I wrote that finally crossed a line for you! Eclipso kills all of the drug lord's bodyguards and then takes over the town's sheriff when he stops by to investigate. The sheriff kills all of the cops so now I guess Eclipso has nearly conquered the South American country of Parador? What a dumb fake country name! I would have gone with Uruzil. The next issue blurb just says "Eclipso for president." Man, that sounds like a dream compared to what we have now. Eclipso #1 Rating: C-. I'm not impressed. Apparently in 1992, I was impressed enough to keep buying it. Or I was just intrigued by a comic book about a brutal villain. Either way, I kept buying it even after this mediocre start. Maybe I was supposed to be impressed by the way Eclipso sort of rules the minds of these men from between the panels. Or maybe I was supposed to appreciate his dark humor in the narration. At least I think it was dark humor. He did say "Not!" at one point. That was funny in 1992, right?
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hi I love your blog!! I just wanted to ask what your background is in spiritual matters are because you seem so well-versed in them and your applications of some concepts are absolutely spot on!! I’m just curious haha
Why We’re Never Going To Find Out How Saïx Got His Scar
Thanks! Pretty much all learned outside of school, haha. I don’t have a special background or anything. I am just an ordinary person drawn to strange subjects. I guess if I’m being honest, I became immersed in these subjects because I used to deal with depression, lol. I don’t anymore, but I still really love Axel’s character arc for that reason. He wanted to find hope. And he did.
His arc is based on the Phoenix—dying, rotting away, turning to ash, and then being born again. You need to experience a form of death, to shed away the old self. Only then can you be reborn into something higher. You need to suffer pain and despair. That is the only way to be liberated from your previous state. It’s one of those special character arcs that resonated with me strongly. It does kind of kill me to see a work of fiction incorporate genuine spiritual concepts, then get butchered. Because you don’t get that message from mainstream entertainment very often.
Zuko: “I used to think this scar marked me - the mark of the banished prince, cursed to chase the Avatar forever. But lately, I’ve realized I’m free to determine my own destiny, even if I’ll never be free of my mark.”
The only other one I personally recall that had a similar realistic spiritual aspect was Prince Zuko from Avatar: The Last Airbender. He is another character that I connected with a lot. Another Fire-type character associated with the sun, strangely enough. Zuko’s arc reminded me of Axel’s, actually. As you wander through the valley of the shadow of death, you are purified. You shed the snakeskin of the ego, and are capable of transforming into your highest self. You become capable of unconditional love. He had his own awakening experience during a dream. The way he loved his sister Azula also reminded me of how Axel loved Saïx. He reminds me of Isa, too. Both have iconic scars that symbolize their trauma.
The deeper you go, the more you realize how interconnected all these metaphysical concepts are, too. Eastern/Western. Alchemy, Shamanism, Kundalini Yoga, Kabbalah, Jungian Psychology. Doesn’t matter. It’s all the same thing when you get right down to it. Raising your state of consciousness, and seeing the illusion of the world for what it is. This realization allows you to become a new being.
The two snakes/dragons represent Masculine and Feminine. Yin and Yang. Shiva and Shakti. Sol and Luna. The energy rising up the two pathways and opening the chakras, is referred to as sacred fire. When these two energies unite, one becomes enlightened, and transcends desire, duality, karma, space and time, etc. One’s true nature is realized, which is infinite. You have the compassion and love of the Feminine, and can combine it with the strength and intelligence of the Masculine.
And Axel’s character arc is essentially the same. They are both alike in so many ways. His Ultimate Gear is called “Double Edge”. His Champion gear is called “Rapid Spinner”, referring to the chakras, which are said to be like whirlpools of energy in the body. Chakra means “wheel” in Sanskrit. And these weapons are shaped like mandalas of the Third Eye and Crown chakras. Mandalas are geometric figures representing unity and harmony.
It’s also known as sacred geometry. It’s a symbol in a dream, representing the dreamer’s search for completeness and self-unity. Carl Jung used them a lot in his practice. He said they symbolize the wholeness of the self. These specific mandalas are used in Reiki for healing. And this is exactly why we’re never going to find out how Saïx got his scar. It’s fundamentally tied into these spiritual concepts.
Xigbar: “Xion’s disappearance is fascinating. It seems Saïx doesn’t truly “see” her.”
Origin: The Sanskrit name for the 3rd Eye Chakra is called the Ajna (command, or in control). The color of Ajna is indigo or midnight blue, associated with depth of awareness.
Xemnas: “As your flesh bears the sigil, so your name shall be known as that…of a recusant.”
Location – Brow: Located in the center of the forehead between and above the eyes, this Chakra governs psychic abilities and spiritual discernment. Bodily, it governs the pineal and pituitary glands.
Saïx: “Settle down. Xion’s failings won’t affect your standing with us. You’ve nothing to worry about.”
Roxas: “Won’t affect my– What is WRONG with you? Look, I’ll do my mission–later.”
Level of Consciousness – 6th: Ajna Chakra is the command center, or the seat of wisdom where the consciousness evolves to understanding and acting on what we experience from a much deeper place of wisdom and insight. When Kundalini Shakti (spiritual energy) is awakened in this Chakra, it opens the 3rd eye, the inner eye of intuition and inner guidance. An under-active Ajna Chakra may show up in a lack of spiritual depth and understanding.
Saïx: Do you know what happens to those who lose their true purpose? Inevitably, they destroy themselves.
Soul Journey Stage – Breaking-Open: You have an urge to connect with your inner wisdom, to live your life in alignment with your inner guidance.
Xemnas: “Our experiments creating Heartless were attempts to control the mind, and convince it to renounce its sense of self.”
Element – Mind: In yogic tradition, it is believed that the mind is made up of the same 5 elements that the universe is made up of (earth, water, fire, air and ether). Ajna Chakra transcends the individual elements and opens the door to universal intelligence.
Saïx: “Nonsense. I see no problem whatsoever.”
Xigbar: “Ha ha! Well no, apparently you don’t!”
Saïx: “Something you find amusing?”
Xigbar: “If people see with their hearts, Saïx, then you’re even blinder than the rest of us.”
Quality – Intuition: The 3rd eye vision is the inner vision of intuition, insight and wisdom.
Saïx: “Pitiful Heartless, mindlessly collecting hearts. The rage of the Keyblade releases those hearts. They gather in darkness, masterless and free… until they weave together to make Kingdom Hearts. And when that time comes, we can truly, finally exist.”
Origin: The Sanskrit name for the Crown Chakra is the Sahasrara, meaning the lotus of a thousand petals. Violet is the highest color in the light spectrum, and represents wisdom, awareness, and spiritual energy. White is also associated with the Crown Chakra. If your Chakra is underactive, you may lack interest in your spiritual self, you may not be open to intangible spiritual experiences.
Xemnas: “My friends! Remember why we have organized–all the things we hope to achieve. The strength of the human heart is vast. Soon, though…we will have gained power over it! Never again will it…have power over us.”
Level of Consciousness – 7th: This is the last milestone of the evolution of human consciousness, the door to Pure Consciousness. When Kundalini Shakti (spiritual energy) is awakened in this Chakra, the illusion of the individual self is dissolved. Self-realization sets in.
Xion: “I love Roxas and Axel. I’m sure Saïx would scoff at that. Call it a trick of my artificial memories. But the time I spent on that clock tower was real.”
Soul Journey Stage: You have an awareness of your own consciousness, a knowledge that the planet is connected by love, your philosophies are simple and straightforward.
Xemnas: “But then, through Roxas, Sora himself began to shape “it” into “her,” giving Xion a sense of identity. I was ready to scrap the whole project…”
Element – Energy: represents the cosmic energy that is awareness and pure consciousness.
Saïx: “Nngh… How much longer…Kingdom…Hearts… Will your strength never be mine?”
Quality – Bliss: When the Crown Chakra is open, we experience the eternal bliss, the peace that “passeth all understanding.”
Saïx: “Well, that didn’t take long. Did it break again?”
Roxas: “She’s not an ‘it’!”
Axel: “Keep your mouth shut.”
Sense – Empathy: This is because of the deep connection that we experience when the Crown Chakra energy is active.
Axel’s purple mandala-shaped weapons are the Emperor and Empress arcana of Luxord’s Tarot deck. The Red King and White Queen. Sol and Luna. Ultimate and Champion Gear. Saïx’s two weapons in these categories are the pink ones, lol. The ones shaped like Venus, the goddess of love, and Vesta, the goddess of sacred sexuality who’s known as the Keeper of the Sacred Flame.
And in Luxord’s deck, you also have the Sun and Moon arcana. For the Moon arcana, Axel’s weapon is called “Dive Bomb” and shaped like more sacred geometry, and Saïx’s weapon is called “Luminary”, shaped like energy healing.
The Sun arcana is the red “Omega Trinity”, shaped like the Ouroboros, another symbol of Rubedo and the union of Sol and Luna. It’s also a symbol of infinity, beyond the limits of time and space. And Saïx’s is called “Light Year”. Isa is light years away, but the red light can reach him and heal him. Their characters were all about healing each other. It’s why it’s so heartbreaking for me to see how Lea and Isa’s story was treated. You just don’t see many stories like theirs. It’s so positive and uplifting.
The writers have all of these sophisticated concepts in mind, and their artistic integrity gets trampled all over. KH is a lot like ATLA. They are both marketed as child-friendly, but you can tell that the writers for both series are extremely intelligent and well-educated. Though even ATLA got compromised artistically to make the live action movies…
#kh meta#kh saix#kingdom hearts#kingdom hearts meta#anti-kh3#kh axel#kh lea#kh isa#kh isalea#kh leaisa#kh akusai#atla zuko
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so I wrote a term paper about Les Orientales and Le dernier jour d’un condamne five years ago that was supposed to be <20 pages but instead was over 30, the thesis was a hot mess but there were some good parts. Most of them have been cannibalized for other papers or for conference presentations but rereading it I found a random bit that hasn’t been used but is still kinda nice
As we have seen, the color black links both the Tour Saint-Jacques in Le Dernier Jour and the rocks in "Nourmahal la Rousse"; it is also a feature of many more buildings, natural phenomena, and even imaginary landscapes in both works.[1] The Hôtel de Ville is "si noir qu'il est noir au soleil" (350), a quality Allan Stoekl astutely connects to its all-consuming horror and corruption.[2] The carriage the condamné takes from the Conciergerie to Bicêtre and back again is described as "si sale, si noir, si poudreux, que le corbillard des pauvres est un carrosse du sacre en comparaison" (318); among the aspects of the Palais de Justice that frighten the condamné upon his arrival there on the day of his execution are "cette noire chapelle" (325), possibly a reference to the Sainte-Chapelle; the guillotine's blade is a "triangle noir" (363); the condamné's afterlife imaginings contain a world of rolling heads where "tout sera noir" (354) and an inverted execution that takes place "par de noires nuits d'hiver" (ibid.); and when he attempts to escape the present by plunging himself into memories of his past, he conceptualizes them as "des îles de fleurs sur ce gouffre de pensées noires et confuses qui tourbillonnent dans mon cerveau" (344).
This blackness is not opposed to light, but part of a whole. According to Suzanne Guerlac, Hugo described a sort of chiaroscuro effect when presenting his concept of the sublime in the preface to Cromwell: "According to Hugo, the modern, Christian perspective is a totalizing vision. 'The modern muse will see things in a higher and broader light. It will realize that everything in creation is not humanely beautiful, that the ugly exists beside the beautiful...the grotesque on the reverse of the sublime, evil with good, darkness with light' (PC 362-63). The totality of nature manifests itself as a play of clair-obscur" (15). She later elaborates: "When Hugo describes the 'harmony of opposites' of the drama as points of intersection between opposing terms, he begins his list with the pair of grotesque/sublime and ends with tragic/comic. These two sets of terms figured in the initial series associated with dark and light" (17).
Indeed, so it is with all of Hugo's imagery: shadows, abysses, stars, fire, rain, sunshine, and flowers are all part of a whole, without the "good" canceling out the "bad," the "light" cancelling out the "dark," and the "natural" (i.e., God-made) canceling out the "artificial" (i.e., man-made). Quotation marks are necessary because in Hugo, such categories resist definition. True, as Stoekl says, "This memory [the memory the condamné conjures up in order to distract himself while awaiting execution], otherwise banal, takes on its pathos from the 'black and confused thoughts' which surround it; it is a flower, a sacred locus, just as the two children make up a special space, separated from the world—but the pathos of the memory derives from the very fact that it cannot be isolated forever from all that surrounds it" (46); similarly, the reflected sunlight the condamné sees on the wall of the hallway outside his Conciergerie cell, the "douce réverberation dorée" (276), derives its pathos from the darkness surrounding it—it is a "reflet jaune où des yeux habitués aux ténèbres d'une prison savent si bien reconnaître le soleil [emphasis mine]" (ibid.). And yet, sunlight is not merely a symbol of the ideal world the condamné is being banished from, a representation of all that his sentence deprives him of—a collection of "goods" he inventories in Chapter Seven as "le soleil, le printemps, les champs pleins de fleurs, les oiseaux qui s'éveillent le matin, les nuages, les arbres, la nature, la liberté, la vie" (287); no, it is part and parcel of the grandeur and terror of the void.
The contrast initially seems straightforward: sunlight is life and freedom, poignantly mise en valeur by all the darkness, doom and ignominy of the condamné's condition. The sunlight on the wall is particularly noticeable to eyes used to the gloom of a prison; this reflected sunlight is the harbinger of the beautiful day outside, which he only gets to experience directly on his way from his cell to the cour d'assises; the sunlight filling the courtroom, and the sight of a yellow flower in the window, causes the condamné to believe—wrongly, naïvely—that he cannot possibly be sentenced to death. This interpretation is backed up by the fact that the sunlight, the flower growing outside the window of the courtroom, etc. all become pale and washed-out after the death sentence is pronounced. However, things become more complicated after the condamné's arrival in Bicêtre. In his cell, the condamné encounters neither sunlight nor darkness, only "la marche lente de ce carré blanchâtre que le judas de ma porte découpe vis-à-vis sur le mur sombre" (284-5).
Later, during the ferrage in the courtyard, a sunny day gives way in the middle of the ceremony to "une froide averse d'automne" (300); however, this is not a simple contrast between "happy" sun and "sad" rain, for it is the reappearance of the sun that provokes the grotesque, in the form of a spectacle enacted by degraded people seeking to, if not regain their humanity, at least reclaim their élan: "Un rayon de soleil reparut. On eût dit qu'il mettait le feu à tous ces cerveaux.[3] Les forçats se levèrent à la fois, comme par un mouvement convulsif [...] Ils tournaient à fatiguer les yeux. Ils chantaient une chanson du bagne" (302). The sun has become associated with the transgression of criminality, not the freedom of innocence.
Similarly, the sun which the condamné does his best to bask in moments before hearing a teenage girl sing a "repulsive" argot song no longer marks a contrast with the criminal world; rather, it is just another part of the pitilessness of Bicêtre's universe, a universe the condamné had been trying to escape by wishing for birdsong (and then focusing on the human song he heard instead), and which contaminates everything it touches: "Ah! qu'une prison est quelque chose d'infâme! Il y a un venin qui y salit tout. Tout s'y flétrit, même la chanson d'une fille de quinze ans! Vous y trouvez un oiseau, il a de la boue sur son aile; vous y cueillez une jolie fleur, vous la respirez; elle pue" (311-2).
Outside the walls of Bicêtre, the trend continues. The fragrance of the flower market that the condamné passes on the way to his execution is more than an ironic or pathetic juxtaposition of beauty and horror, but has a deeper meaning when the condamné explains that "Les marchandes ont quitté leur bouquets pour moi" (368): namely that even flower merchants aren't necessarily pure of heart, and by extension flowers themselves lose their perfection. Nor is the rain that falls throughout the day of the condamné's execution merely the expression of a pathetic fallacy. Unlike the narrator of "November" whose muse laments, "[C]ar je m'ennuie/A voir ta blanche vitre où ruisselle la pluie,/Moi qui dans mes vitraux avais un soleil d'or!" (337), the condamné is not merely brought back to reality by the rain on the windowpane of the cell in the Conciergerie in which he spends the last hours before his execution, replacing the sun-filled windows in the cour d'assises at the beginning of the novel, "ces losanges éclatants aux fenêtres [dont] chaque rayon découpait dans l'air un grand prisme de poussière d'or" (278) and "larges fenêtres lumineuses" (280); rather, it is a reminder of the condamné's relative impermanence vis-à-vis the weather, and also of the complete hopelessness of his situation, which places him beyond the reach of even spiritual comfort: "Comme le jour du départ de la chaîne, il tombait une pluie de la saison, une pluie fine et glacée qui tombe encore à l'heure où j'écris, qui tombera sans doute toute la journée, qui durera plus que moi" (319) and "Ce matin, j'étais égaré. J'ai à peine entendu ce [que le prêtre] m'a dit. Cependant ses paroles m'ont semblé inutiles, et je suis resté indifférent; elles ont glissé comme cette pluie froide sur cette vitre glacée" (337).
[1] A comprehensive survey of Hugo's use of the color black is obviously far beyond the scope of this paper, but it is worth noting that its importance extends past Le Dernier Jour d'un condamné and Les Orientales. In fact, there was an exhibit of Hugo's drawings organized around this concept, called "Les arcs-en-ciel du noir," at the Maison de Victor Hugo in 2012. The creator of the exhibit, Annie Le Brun, has also written extensively about the topic.
[2] Although the astrophysical metaphor he uses in saying it is "composed of a kind of antimatter, its blackness seemingly absorbing even the sun's light" (45) would probably be more aptly replaced with a comparison to a black hole.
[3] Like many things in Le Dernier Jour, Hugo reuses this image in Les Misérables: "Brusquement, le soleil parut; l'immense rayon de l'orient jaillit, et l'on eût dit qu'il mettait le feu à toutes ces têtes farouches. Les langues se délièrent; un incendie de ricanements, de jurements et de chansons fit explosion" (229 Tome II).
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I quit writing Homestuck meta a long time ago, but I guess the pre-4/13 fervor is infectious, because this popped into my head and wouldn’t go away. So here’s some musings on Homestuck, the ending, and its portrayal (or rather, erasure) of character identity and agency.
Let’s rewind back several years and a few subsubacts, to the meteor and battleship crews’ not so triumphant arrival in the combined session. Two of the kids’ number have been mind-controlled and forced to work for the Empress. Two have been thrown in prison. One has been banished to the outer reaches of space. The rest have been divvied up and placed on various Lands, given different tasks to be completed for the Empress. Even in beating SBURB and winning the game they have no escape, because she intends to rule the new universe they create… until it spawns Lord English and is destroyed.
Things look bleak. And things look even bleaker when Game Over rolls around, and most of the cast gets exterminated. But wait! John Egbert, Heir of Breath and leader of the Beta session, has gotten his hands on a miraculous artifact supposedly useful as a weapon against Lord English. He now has the ability to travel throughout time and space and to change things that usually cannot be changed. While his friends get wiped out, he fights the “tyrannous author” figure who has been telling their story wrong and wins. Surely with his newfound abilities, he will set things right and lead them to freedom.
Except. Not really.
Oh sure, John “saves the day”. He uses his retcon abilities to create a new timeline where everyone lives and wins the game. But is it a victory? And did everyone really live?
I’m going to argue that the ending of Homestuck is a tragedy where characters’ identities are frequently ignored or overwritten in order to serve the utilitarian aims of the narrative (and Skaia). I do not make this argument believing Hussie intended it. I think the dip in quality and coherency at the end of Homestuck was the product of an author who was tired of his project, had lost track of a bunch of plot points and characters, and just wanted to be finished. But I do think its treatment of identity is drastically different from the rest of the work and sends some disturbing messages about how “happy” that ending really is.
Alternate Selves
Dave and Davesprite. Vriska and (Vriska). Pre- and post-scratch. Bro, Dirk, Hal. Throughout the comic, we’re shown that alternate selves are different people. They may begin as the same when they split apart, but in not too long, their personalities diverge as part of lived experience. Bro is not Dirk is not Hal. They have certain base characteristics and sometimes experiences in common, but they are different people. Most members of the fandom would agree that it’s silly to suggest that they aren’t.
And yet the ending of Homestuck asks us to accept something very similar. The Game Over iterations of characters are wiped out, and a new set takes their place. While earlier parts of the comic train readers to view the loss of any one iteration as significant and the introduction of a new iteration as something different (Rose’s grief over losing her mother cannot be completely abated by the introduction of Roxy; Rose’s mother is still dead. And I suspect the fandom would not have been pleased if Dave had died forever and Davesprite had been anointed sole Dave survivor.) this asks them to do the opposite. Oh, sure, the characters you’ve been following for years are dead and never coming back. But here’s a new set!
Even more eerily, the characters themselves go along with it. Rose, who saw a version of Roxy die in front of her, is perfectly content to greet a new version. GO!Roxy’s arrival absolves Jane of the guilt of killing her best friend, and apparently the other Alphas aren’t at all perturbed that the Roxy joining them has a different set of memories. (I’m not sure anyone even tells Dirk, who was out in space for all of this.) John, who has a history of looking down on alternate selves (his entire fraught relationship with Davesprite versus the “real” Dave, his proclamation of friendship with “past Terezi”) apparently has no problem meeting up with a version of his sister who has no memories of the three years he spent with another version of her, and neither does she. The GO! survivors slot right into the retcon kids’ lives to fill some available gaps, even though earlier they would have been considered separate people by the story, not replacements.
Characterization
I’m not going to get into how nearly everyone’s character arc and development got dropped (or expound on why ‘real people don’t have arcs’ is nonsense) beyond that the majority of characters get sidelined, used as means to an end, and/or objectified, which also impedes their agency and identity. That’s another post. But what I will focus on is how one character who gets brought to the front of the stage exemplifies the destruction of identity for the sake of utility that this ending seems to prioritize. That character is Vriska Serket.
Now, Vriska is a lightning rod of fandom de88. But identity and the negotiation, suppression, or recreation of it has always been a big thing for her. Vriska emulates Mindfang and adopts many of her nastier behaviors on Alternia in order to survive their violent culture and her dangerous lusus. This is the explanation for a lot of her actions, but it doesn’t excuse them. Throughout the story, she frequently teeters on the edge of realizing and accepting that her behavior is wrong (GO!Vriska gets closest, although she never quite makes it). Retcon!Vriska, though, has had that spark of self-awareness snuffed. Puffed up with self-importance over having reality literally rewritten to save her life, she’s cruel for the sake of cruelty and forces everyone else to go along with her power gamer strategy regardless of whether it’s a good choice. When she encounters GO!Vriska, who we can presume is closer to what Vriska might have been without all these toxic influences, she lashes out at her and seems disgusted by who she has become (her more authentic self?). GO!Vriska then wanders off, encounters Terezi, and vanishes from the story entirely. Retcon!Vriska is the one who “defeats” (?) Lord English before vanishing as well. She is sold as the missing ingredient that leads to a victorious timeline – the version of Vriska who has rejected and lost her true identity under a warped façade, turning into the monster she always fronted as. Inspiring.
The Dreaming Dead
(EDIT) Since we just talked about Vriska, let’s talk about her pawns. The dreaming dead get jerked around a lot throughout the story, but the first time Vriska and Aranea steal their minds, it’s supposed to be messed up. The image of Scorpio signs hovering over their blank expressions is eerie, and John (the hero) points out it’s ethically dubious. Later, Sollux bails because the whole thing makes him “feel dirty”. The first time dreamers die at English’s hand, it’s portrayed as horrific both through the presentation in Caliborn: Enter itself and Dave talking later about how after witnessing “the screaming and the killing” he’s had a hard time sleeping. We even recognize some of the dreamers - the version of John killed hails from Davesprite’s timeline, and we even followed his time with Vriska briefly. These ghosts have identities. We know them.
In Collide, though, dreamers are dispatched in droves without fanfare. They’re simply a distraction Vriska uses until she can get English with the weapon (although why she needed a diversion I’m not sure, since she doesn’t exactly try to sneak up on him). They change hands between ‘leaders’ without ever having voices of their own, and their deaths have no impact. It’s just visual noise. The dead only matter to the extent that they can serve main characters’ aims and the narrative.
Ultimate Selves
In the last handful of pages of the comic, Hussie introduces the concept of “ultimate selves” through Davepeta. Apparently combo sprites can remember all iterations of themselves (although they don’t particularly act like it, but whatever). From this perspective, they find differences of selves meaningless, and inform Jade that every self is important because they help create your ‘ultimate self’, which is a compilation of all selves into a sort of Platonic ideal. This means, they tell poor Jade, that she didn’t really miss out on three years with her friends! Her ultimate self had a great time. Why this is supposed to be a consolation to this Jade, who had a shitty time, I am not sure.
Again, this flies against the established differences between selves that earlier Homestuck prizes. Alt selves have different identities. They’re different people. Claiming the boundaries between them are meaningless erases that. The concept of an ultimate self makes sense from a reader’s perspective. We get to see all the different paths the characters go down. We get to look at different selves and use that information to inform our reading of the character or our grasp of some of their inherent qualities. But that doesn’t apply to the characters themselves. It’s cold comfort telling this Jade that another version of her didn’t suffer alone for three years. She did. If this were leading up to some massive memory merge between timelines then I might acknowledge it held water, but as it is… it reads like the attempts of an author to justify a bad decision.
We have whatever Terezi did in Remem8er (a beautiful flash, but no one can quite determine what it meant) but we don’t know whether she actually accomplished retrieving any memories because she never gets to talk about it. (The flash also implies that every death spawns a ghost, which is directly contrary to previously established game mechanics so I won’t really get into it, but that does further complicate the whole identity thing we have going on here.) And I’m not sure I buy Davepeta’s pep talk at face value, as I’ll expand on in the next section.
Sprites Squared
Oh boy. If you’ve followed me much you know I hold a grudge against these entities for a whoooole bunch of reasons. But among other things, they’re an excellent example of lategame Homestuck’s identity destruction at work.
The combosprites take characters in pretty bad shape – struggling with depression and alcoholism (and Nepeta, but she seems mostly along for the ride. I mean, she doesn’t even get a Heart symbol as part of Dp’s outfit) – and perk them right up. Setting aside the fact that this is weirdly like the whole ‘smile away your problems’ shtick in Trickster mode, something even more sinister seems to be going on. Neither of them act all that much how you’d expect them to. Davepeta doesn’t talk much at all like either of their components besides surface level quirks and cat puns, imo. Jasprose, after Rose died lamenting that she didn’t tell Kanaya she loved her, rebounds at lightning speed. But let’s move right on over to the smoking gun, where Davepeta suggests dating Jasprose shouldn’t be off the table, even if some of their components are related. “The Dave part of me is saying no no no,” they say, “but that brain tantrum just cracks me up”.
This seems to imply that the components of the combosprites are in fact 1) separate 2) sentient and 3) not pleased. And were sprites ever true unions of personalities? We don’t see much of Erisol or Fefeta, but as soon as he’s distressed, ARquius’s two components start speaking separately, and based on Tavros’s comment that being Tavris wasn’t that bad versus Tavris screaming that they’re an abomination, that sounds like it was mostly Vriska talking.
So if Davepeta doesn’t sound much like either of their components, and at least one of those personalities is still independently yelling somewhere in their subconscious, who ARE they? I’m not sure, but I’d sure take their cheerful promotion of “ultimate selves” with a heaping pound or two of salt. (EDIT) Especially as I’ve argued elsewhere that it’s in Skaia’s best interests to have a bunch of game victors complacent about the sacrifice of hordes of people for the Big Picture, and sprites are a mouthpiece for Skaia and the game. And even more so since the message of the combosprites’ “fixing” of their components’ emotional distress seems to be that the way to achieve happiness is to stop being you, much as the Game Over kids were only able to stop suffering by ceasing to exist at all.
Retconbound
Finally, let’s look at John’s finest moment, altering the timeline so that everyone lives. He’s Breath – communication, freedom, travel – given ultimate agency by the juju powers. But… he doesn’t get much agency. He’s following Terezi’s orders, written in blood (Blood, an aspect of bonds and binding). And he seems rather unconscious or uncaring of the effect he’s having. After picking up the ring, he drops by a set of meteor kids recently transported onto LOMAX and enjoys a touching reunion, saying hi and hugging them… and then teleports off to make that never happen. What was the point of that display of friendship? What even happened to that group of kids, in a timeline with no ring of life? We don’t know, and the narrative suggests we shouldn’t care, any more than John does as he blithely flies away. We’re racking up a bunch of characters and timelines who are merely there to serve the narrative’s latest whim or need, not because they’re important in themselves.
And here’s the kicker. That juju, that magic device that saves the day? It’s powered by four Beta kids’ souls trapped inside it for eternity. We don’t know what timeline they come from, or whether they ever escape. They are faceless, voiceless, identityless plot devices that give John the ability to do what he does. They’re the culmination of how this narrative treats its characters in the endgame – as tools to get to the last page. Skaia doesn’t care who walks through the door, as long as it has warm bodies to hatch the frog and keep its cycle going. Homestuck, it seems, doesn’t care which set of characters prevails as long as it can close the damn curtains at last.
And the thing is, you could have gone somewhere with this. After all, how many troll ghosts are in the bubbles? Thousands. We don’t follow their story and then watch them die, but a bunch of versions of those characters we know and care about died and festered in the furthest ring. There could have been a point made about how Skaia is happy to consign groups of children to the scrap bin if they don’t fulfill its aims, how horrifying the whole system is and how little regard it has for life. Current set of tools broken? Fixing them would take too long and they’re not useful now, so bin ‘em and start fresh. Someone has to win. Doesn’t matter who. A quote by Hussie occasionally makes the rounds talking about how many Marios die before the end of a game, but we only care about the one who wins. Maybe that’s what he was going for, but I think he missed the mark tonally. (EDIT) Not to mention that the story’s biggest villain is a Lord of Time who, besides losing most of his own identity beyond a love of destruction long ago, is all about forcing people onto the paths that serve him despite what might be better for them and who has a whole subplot where he actually attempts to rewrite their story with crappy, subpar imitations of every character. You could easily have made a connection there, but that would suggest the villain triumphed in the end. Elements of the final flash almost seem to point in that direction, but the story still tries to play things off as a victory.
Because in the end, I think the Homestuck ending sucked. Some people say it’s a psycheout and the Epilogue will have more, or reveal that it was written by Caliborn, or whatever. Guess we won’t know until it arrives. But as it all stands now, I think it sucked a lot. And I could write about the dropped character arcs or messed up plot points, but I honestly try not to talk too much about post retcon HS because it depresses me that something I was so fond of ended so terribly. I wouldn’t have been happy if it had ended as a blatant tragedy, but I could have at least respected it a little more. But this? It’s not just that many characters sidelined and ignored, that plenty of important plot points are ignored or forgotten, that some of the writing and pacing is just poorly done. After an entire comic’s worth of emphasizing the differences between iterations of individuals and the importance and value of those independent lives, characters are treated as interchangeable and expendable as long as they get the job done. Utilitarianism rules the day. That’s how to win the game, to get this hulking behemoth of a tale to limp to its final rest. And the story tries to play this as a happy ending, and that’s the worst bit of all.
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Hiiii love this page !!!! This is gonna be a strange one : prompto and noctis’s reaction to their S/o being immortal, and then later on , their s/o turning them into immortals too??
-Thanks so much!!!!! This did take a bit of creativity and stretching of the game’s plot. I could have done this a few different ways but I chose a way that DOES involve spoilers. If you would like a more spoiler-free take on this then let me know, I’ll see what I can whip up. But, for now, I tried to stick with the game’s universe as much as possible. Also sorry for such a late response. I’ve had writer’s block and then tumblr lost your ask! Hope you enjoy :)
WARNING: SPOILERS!!!!!!
Prompto:
So in this scenario, I’m going with the assumption that they knew their s/o was immortal from the get go, or at least before they got together. This chocobro, however, is gonna be full of sooo many questions. He’ll be chewing their ear off asking how they became immortal, how old are they, do they remember such and such events occurring in history, and so on… He’ll look up to you and respect the wisdom that comes with being immortal, but at the same time he’s going to realize the seriousness and the loneliness it brings. He’ll definitely fret about it much more than he lets on. He knows that you’ve likely seen and lost a lot, and that, someday, he’ll just be a memory for you. Therefore, he’s going to do everything in his power to keep you smiling. He’ll want the memories of your love to be as everlasting as you are, so he’s gonna start by seriously taking up scrapbooking to pair with his love of photography.
He’ll keep stacks of scrapbooks with pictures of the two of you, recording every special moment so you’ll have his memory with you always. He won’t really want to talk to you about his actual reasoning behind his new hobby of tediously organizing every photograph, no need to remind you of what you both already know. He will, however, ask for your opinion a lot. Maybe you’re catching up with a tv show on the couch and he’s on the floor next to you, cutting up pictures and asking you what colors go together best on what page, what border it should have, etc… He’ll live to see you smile, and to make sure that despite everything, you’ll have known something as nice as what you both have.
As you follow the group around with your immortal badassery, you eventually stumble upon an explanation for your backstory, a way for you to finally discover how you got to become immortal and outlive all your loved ones. As it turns out, the crystal had lent you everlasting life for the purpose of assisting the future king in fighting the scrouge. You’d spent years misguided. The crystal knew your worth, but for whatever reason it had lacked guidance. It wasn’t until you’d met Prompto that your purpose began to fall into place. Prompto introduced you to the king, and it only felt natural for you to come along, additionally wanting to spend as much time with Prompto as possible.
At the final storm of the citadel, when Noctis was set to fight the darkness and return the light to Insomnia once more, the four of you stood to keep the daemons back as Noctis went to fill his own prophecy. The fight was intense, just trying to buy time until the dawn finally broke, until it was all finally over. You noticed Prompto collapse, overwhelmed by the overbearing horde. You had depleted the last of your restoratives, and the reality of this moment coming so soon devastated you. You clung to him as his eyes began to fade, crying and pleading with the gods, when you heard a whisper in your ear. Perhaps it wasn’t even a whisper, but a feeling. That feeling you get in dreams when you know something to be the truth even when it’s unspoken. You knew that your gift could be re-given. You breathed life into him half expecting to die yourself, but at that exact moment you couldn’t care less. He just had to live, damn it! Then his chest expanded, his eyes opening slowly as he took in a deep breath. Somehow, the gods had allowed it. Perhaps it was a gift for helping defeat the scourge while still remaining pure. Either way, it was marvelous, and you thanked them.
It would take a long time for Prompto to move on from the events of the battle. You’d help him cope with his loses and soon he’d be able to finally process the concept of his own immortality. His old light would renew, realizing that he would be able to spend forever beside you. Naturally, he’d want to do everything in his power to protect the Kingdom of Lucis afterwards, for his best friend. He’d love for you to stand by his side. But even if you go off on your own adventures from time to time he’ll always be there waiting. The bond you both share will be unlike anything that anyone else can understand, since it is something that almost no one else shares. And no matter what, you both know you always have each other.
Noctis:
Knowing that the person he loves is immortal would be really tough on Noctis at first. He’d hate that he couldn’t stand by them until the very end, dwelling on the fact that he won’t always be there for them. His angst about it could add some tension to the relationship, but at the end of the day he’s going to suck it up, apologize for acting so ridiculous, and try and just be there for his s/o. He knows that to you, his time here is short, and he’ll realize after a good pout that he’ll regret every moment he isn’t trying to make it last.
You’ll notice him fight with himself to show more affection, something that can be hard for him yet he gets how important it is. He acts casual enough, treating you like he would any mortal partner, but deep inside he’s terrified. He’s scared of disappointing you. Of his memory living on forever with you as something fleeting and insignificant. He knows he can be oblivious, not thinking about how others around him are feeling since he gets caught up so easily in his own shit. It will be a big constructive project on his character, but he’ll do his best to start paying close attention to your wants and needs. He might not be very intuitive, but he’ll ask constantly how you’re feeling. If there’s anything more he can do for you.
Of course, as someone who can’t be killed and who also happens to be in love with the prince himself, you’d want to be there to protect him at all times. For most of your life, being the only immortal you’d ever met made you feel a little lost. You’d always pondered your perpetuity, wondering what had granted you this grand and mysterious gift. It’s on this journey with the four boys that you discover you were never lost, you’ve been on the right path all along.
As it turns out, the crystal is well aware of it’s own tendency of making mistakes. After the corruption of Ardyn, the crystal decided it could use a backup plan for its backup plan, so to speak, in the event that the young King of Lucis somehow failed. Therefore, it brought about a new healer, someone more common and without influence over an entire kingdom. You learned that you could banish the presence of daemons. Although the power took its toll, you were able to use it greatly to your advantage. This power, along with the presence of your immortality, is what lead Noctis to believe that your gift was something significantly deliberate.
Fast forward ten years. They pass rather quickly for you, although you miss Noctis like hell, damning the passing of time that was so significant to his mortal form. He comes back to the darkness and you just know, you can feel that he’s preparing to die, and you refuse to accept it. You’re immortal, right? Does the scourge even have a chance against you? You bat away all thoughts of the consequences of Ardyn’s fate, knowing that no matter what happens you’re going to keep Noctis alive.
As you storm the citadel, Noctis preparing for his prophecy to be fulfilled, you refuse to let him go alone, chasing up the steps after him despite his violent protests. Gladio, Ignis, Prompto, they all need you, but you’ve already made up your mind and what they hell is he gonna do right now to stop you? The ancestors initially try to ignore your presence, but you stand your ground, guarding Noctis with every inch of your being. You somehow manage yourself in between their line of attack, calling attention to the gods who then, decide to intervene. Go you, you’ve just managed to make the gods give a fuck. Somehow, an exception is made, the blood price falling to Ardyn and the gift of his immortality being bestowed in turn, upon the young King of Lucis as a result of your intervention.
Naturally, with the scourge defeated, Noctis would want to return to his kingdom. Of course, he’d want you as his royal consort. The two of you could rule the kingdom as long as you saw fit. Eventually, your partnership would become the thing of legends. The eternal royal love of Lucis.
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