#but then going on ad nauseum about how he's the only one who's been there for her

[corbinite]

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[grntaire]

good omens is an allegory for queer deconstruction from an abusive fundamentalist religious environment.

i've talked about it on here ad nauseum, probably, but i haven't fleshed my thoughts out on it fully. this has been my interpretation since season 1, and season 2 just solidified it for me. so here goes.

it's about the choice that all queer people in an environment like this have to make, and both choices suck and end with loss.

choice 1: stay with your church community, your friends, your family, the world you've always known, but never be true to yourself. because they will never fully accept you if you are true to yourself.

choice 2: embrace your queerness, live your authentic life, and leave it all behind. you're torn from everything you've ever known, everyone you've ever loved. but it's what you have to do to be happy. aziraphale is stuck between choices. crowley never had a choice. his was made for him.

heaven are the church elders. the protectors. the ones who say they have your and god's best interest in mind, always. they don't. to them, hell are the blasphemers, who are both unworthy of redemption yet can only be saved by it. they are the arbiters of what is good and right and bad and wrong.

aziraphale's story is one of both learned faith and earned faith. learned, in that he's been indoctrinated his whole life. been to church at least twice a week since birth. earned, in that he's seen the good that the church can do–they feed the hungry, shelter the unhoused. how could people who do such good be capable of cruelty? and surely, when they are cruel, there must be some greater good to come out of it?

crowley was faithful once, too. he loved god. loved church. but he knew he was queer from a young age, and asked questions about it. not because he wanted to make trouble, but because he wanted to understand. to understand why something he knew about himself to be so innately true could be wrong. but the church didn't see it as that–they saw the embodiment of sin, questioning them. their authority, their virtuosity, the fibre of what holds their organization together, and he was cast out. was kicked out of his home, alienated from his family, his friends, his community. he fell. and he now sees the church for what it truly is.

as for aziraphale, he's accepted the fact that he's queer, but had faith that his elders had his best interest at heart when they spewed homophobic ideology. he never believed the ideology, not really, but he had to believe (made himself believe) that the people who spread it meant well. that they meant it out of kindness, out of protecting queer people from damnation. he wanted to believe that not everyone in the church was like this, that not everyone in the church thought all queer people are inherently people of sin. that is, until a mentor, someone he trusts, perpetuates it too. he's had moments in his past that chipped away at his faith: he'd stayed friends, or whatever you want to call it, with crowley, and crowley had tempted him into trying new things that the church wouldn't approve of. things that aziraphale loved. but this moment with his mentor is when his faith is truly shaken. it's the beginning of his active deconstruction.

and so he leaves. he leaves and finds crowley and they build a semblance of a life together with what they have. they're happy. he's learning that he doesn't need to go to church to be holy. that he doesn't need to be holy to be happy. that he's allowed to indulge in the things he loves without guilt and shame.

that is, until that mentor shows up at his doorstep, offering him everything he's ever wanted. insinuates that he knows him and crowley aren't just friends, and assures him that they can come back to church together. that they're going to change things in the church, and that aziraphale can help. that they need aziraphale to help. (they don't. they want a pious gayboy to help repair their image. it's performative activism at its finest). aziraphale is being offered his family, his community, everything back, and crowley can come too. preying on his wants and desires, manipulating him back into their control. so of course he says yes. they'll get to be together with everything they've ever known and aziraphale doesn't have to make a choice between losses anymore. (deconstruction isn't linear, and abuse is cyclical.)

but crowley makes it for him. crowley tells him no. he doesn't want that life and doesn't want to go back to those people who hate him so much. who hate them so much. crowley knows what the church is about and sees it for what it is. they're not about god, or moral good or doing what's right. all they want is control. it's about the optics of the organization. it's about influencing what serves them and their agenda, and crowley knows that aziraphale is just a pawn to them. ("Why would we go back to them, when they think that who we are is wrong? Is vile? They think us the embodiment of sin and you want to go help them with their PR campaign?")

but aziraphale doesn't know that, can't know it, and crowley can't make him see it. (aziraphale knows that they cast crowley out, that he was kicked out of his home. crowley never shared with him about what happened after. the nights on the street, the things he'd endured to survive.)

and so crowley kisses him. he kisses him to tell him not that he loves him, because of course he does. he kisses him to tell him "This is what you leave behind. We would never be able to do this there, to be this there, even if they say we could. Our lives are here, our safety is here. this is what you're giving up."

crowley has been through it and experienced their cruelty firsthand. aziraphale won't be able to see it until he experiences it, too. he won't be able to realize he's being played if he doesn't even know that there's a game happening in the first place.

i can't recommend watching the show through this lens enough. it makes aziraphale's story that much more heartbreaking, because there's this intense duality of indoctrination vs. deconstruction that lives within him constantly. (imo it's also the main difference between book aziraphale and tv aziraphale: book aziraphale is significantly further along in his deconstruction journey. it's why he's a bit more of a bastard. tv aziraphale is set back a bit further, which sets up his deconstruction arc beautifully across three seasons.)

it's why aziraphale has the ability to peel back layers of himself and his train of thought depending on the situation at hand–he literally has two trains of thought happening at once. the indoctrinated one, and the deconstructed one.

and when crowley kisses him, it's the first time in his existence that both trains of thought have been that present simultaneously. it's both trains colliding full speed with each other. it's why we see both livid, hesitant frustration and fierce passion and longing at once. it forced him to confront something that lived so deeply within himself that he wanted to bring to light on his own terms, but crowley was desperate. the kiss wasn't i love you, please stay. it was look at what you're leaving behind. we could've been us, we could've been this.

and i think that whatever happens in season 3, whatever heaven does that makes them finally irredeemable in aziraphale's eyes, it'll be a beautiful ending to his deconstruction arc. not that deconstruction ever ends, not truly, but for the first time in his existence, he'll be able to see heaven, hell, and the system as a whole clearly for what they are: a bunch of self-righteous dicks.

[if you're curious about religious deconstruction and what it means, this video by therapist and social worker mickey atkins talking about deconstruction in reference to shiny happy people, a documentary about the duggar family, is a good place to start. cw for pretty much all types of abuse imaginable, fyi.]

[spareseratoninplz]

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader: "Pining"

**************************************

I haven't posted anything in a while, but I've never really been consistent. Still, I appreciate anyone sticking around, and anyone saying they enjoy my writing. It brings me more joy than you'll ever know. ❤️**************************************

Katsuki Bakugou's brow furrowed in annoyance as he trained his eyes on the girl across from him that was keeping busy by dicing various vegetables for the dish theywere making in their shared home economics class.

He knew all too well that he was staring, but for some reason, couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze away from you. The same mantra repeated in his mind ad nauseum-

'C'mon, just look this way. Just once... just for a second.'

On the outside, he looked like a mountain lion ready to pounce upon its unexpecting prey, but on the inside he was begging you for even the slightest moment of your attention.

You lifted your eyes, scanning the room for a moment, and briefly meeting his gaze before going back to focusing on your methodical chopping.

There it was. That moment he'd been waiting for, however brief. It finally happened.

He attempted to swallow the dry lump in his throat, but it became stuck. He adjusted the collar of his school uniform in an effort to bring him some relief from the restrictive sensation you caused him to feel within his chest, but it seemed all in vain.

"Bakugou, you were supposed to be mixing the dry ingredients." Kaminari complained beside him. It was only then that he noticed his friend's fixated gaze on you, and how red his cheeks and the tips of his ears had become.

"Uh... y'okay there, Bakugou?" Kaminari questioned, but he was never given any response.

Again, your eyes lifted as you passed the finished tray of diced veggies to your partner, and immediately found his eyes once more. Except this time, you held his gaze for a moment... and then smiled.

The young man inhaled sharply through his nose, clutching the front of his shirt as his eyes quickly took a mental photo of your smile before your attention was called away once more to focus on the assignment he simply couldn't care less about anymore.

"Oi, blondie."

His hand reached to grab Kaminari by the shirt as he jerked the blonde towards him, never once moving his gaze away from you.

"Who's that?" He demanded, ignoring the sound of Kaminari's squealing from suddenly being grabbed.

"You mean the new girl? I don't know her, but you could ask Midoriya. They seem to be good frie-" Before the poor blonde could finish, Katsuki had tossed him aside, his anger beginning to flare up once again.

DEKU.

You're friends with Deku...?

A wimpy, crybaby, wannabe loser like him... gets to talk to you and see your smile every day?

He wouldn't stand for it.

Just then, the bell rang for free period, and he scooped up his bag as he knew where that nerd would be the time of day.

It didn't take a lot of walking before he saw him sitting in a window seat, writing away aimlessly in one of those stupid Campos books. His eyes trained on the green haired individual as he passed through the sea of extras that seemed obscured by his mission.

He was nearly a yard away, reaching his hand out, already crackling with tiny explosions just waiting to be unleashed fully.

And he froze suddenly.

Deku looked up from his book smiling as you strode up to him, the same sweet smile on your face as you handed him what looked to be a protein bar.

He took it gratefully, smiling back and even saying something that seemed to make you laugh.

His hand closed around the already wrinkled fabric of his shirt, gripping tightly as he hastily worked to wipe away the sweat from his palm.

Oh man... your laugh was like pure sunshine, and your smile was akin to a warm woolen sweater on an otherwise harsh winter morning.

In that moment, he knew He'd give anything for that smile and laugh to be directed towards him.

"Kaachan!" Deku called out to him, lifting a hand up in greeting.

You looked up at him as well, and for a moment, he felt his heart skip a beat. He hadn't even realized he was walking forward until you were standing up straight to meet him face to face.

"You're Bakugou, right? We were just in home economics together." She pointed out. She knew his name... and her voice was soft and kind to him, almost as though she were praising him for something he'd yet to do.

"Ah... K- Katsuki." He cursed himself for stuttering and allowing his voice to break. To save face, he quickly cleared his throat and tried again.

"Just... call me Katsuki." He said a bit clearer now.

She giggled, and he couldn't control the corners of his mouth turning up into a soft smile. It left a bubbling sensation in his chest that quickly went to his head.

"I'm (Y/N). I just started here yesterday, it's really nice to meet you." She said, and before he could stop it, a soft laugh left his lips.

"Yesterday? I'm sure I would've remembered seeing you..." He said, and it was like he wasn't in control of his own words. His brain seemed to be on autopilot, but in such a state of bliss that he didn't wish to drag himself out of it.

"I'm not in the same hero course as you and Izuku here." She said, and he winced at the name.

He let out a low grunt before shifting his feet and sliding his hands into his pockets.

"How're you liking UA so far?" He asked, genuinely curious, but mainly just wanting to keep your attention for as long at possible.

"I really like it. Especially the people I've met. Everyone seems really nice." She said, glancing around, and his smile faltered at the loss of her eyes on his.

His eyes widened as the bell signaling for the end of free period went off.

"I'll show you to your next class. It's not too far." Deku spoke up, and Katsuki felt his teeth grind at the intrusion.

"Sounds good. Hey, Katsuki?" She said his name, and his body went stiff as he straightened his back.

"Y- yeah?" He asked, stuttering once more.

"I noticed we have the same lunch period together. Would you mind if I sat with you?" She asked, and he felt that he would combust into a million pieces right there because there was no way- this was far too good to be true.

"YES- I mean... ah... sure. Sounds good." He said, frantically wiping the sweat from his palms away at his overly eager answer. Regardless, you seemed delighted by this as your smile grew.

"Great! I'll see you then. Bye Katsuki!"

You turned and walked away with Izuku, your sweet scent still lingering in the air as you passed by, and he couldn't help but wonder just how soft your hair was as he watched it flow behind you.

"Oh man... Bakugou's got it BAD." A familiar voice said behind him. He immediately recognized it as Kirishima, but he didn't do much to react towards his statement. He simply placed a hand on his friend's shoulder as he watched you fade into the crowd of other students.

"Let's get to class so we can get it over with and go to lunch." Katsuki insisted.

"What, did ya miss breakfast or something?" Kirishima asked, as Katsuki slid his hand off his shoulder and began walking to class.

"Somethin' like that." He mumbled, causing Kirishima to furrow his brow.

"Hey, are you alright? Y'know I was just messing with you before, right?" He asked, somewhat worried about his friend. He'd never seen him with such a dreamy look on his face before.

"What kind of food do you think she likes? Maybe I could ask at lunch, and learn to cook her favorites. Bet she'd like that-" He said.

"EARTH TO BAKUGOU!" Kirishima shouted, seemingly breaking him from the trance he was in.

"WHAT THE HELL, WHY'D YOU SUDDENLY YELL AT ME SHITTY HAIR?!" He demanded, and a look of relief flooding the red head's face.

"Ah, good. Thought I'd lost ya for a sec." He sighed. Katsuki grunted in response as they continued to class together.

"So, you really like this girl, huh?" Kirishima asked, and he knew there was no point in denying it.

"Obviously, but once she realizes what I'm really like she'll probably turn tail and run." Katsuki deduced.

"You've got quite the reputation around here, y'know? I'm sure she already has an idea of your personality... and she still seemed to enjoy your company." Kirishima pointed out.

"Or she's too nice for her own good." I mumbled.

"Don't worry about it bro. If something's there, it'll develop naturally. Just be yourself." Kirishima encouraged, and Katsuki simply hummed in response.

He was right. You seemed like such a genuine person. To not meet you halfway with the same attitude would be an insult to you.

And so, he settled it with himself right then and there.

He would do whatever he could to make you his.

[ceruleanwhore]

Aang As a Father, in Response to LoK

⚠️CAUTION⚠️

This post is full of Aang and kataang hate. If you like Aang and/or ship kataang in any capacity, scroll on for the sake of your mental and emotional wellbeing. Thank you!

When Avatar: Legend of Korra came out, I remember there being tons of discussion around how much Aang sucked as a father and how surprised everyone was, even some of us who never really liked him as a character. However, I’ve been thinking about it today, and the conclusion I’ve reached is that not only is it not surprising that Aang was not a very good parent, but it was inevitable. The one thing I disagree on that I’ll get to at some point in here is how he sucked at parenting in canon as opposed to how I think he was set up to fail at it given the direction he was headed with his canon characterization.

I’d like to start by getting into that characterization and discussing some of the elements of Aang’s canon personality that I think are relevant. In the series, yes, as we all know and as Aang stans love to point out ad nauseum, he’s just a mere bitty child, but we can also see some of his flaws that, even in his 12-year-old self, have some serious consequences at times. Canon Aang is a messy cocktail of toxic positivity, selfishness, avoidant tendencies, impulsivity, and a dangerous lack of emotional control. He does things like casually throw away the fate of the whole world over his god-given right to have a crush on a girl and then, in the next season, compare that same girl’s experience of losing her mother to his radically different experience of losing his pet for a couple weeks as he tells her to get over it. He also has a tendency to go into the freaking avatar state when he’s upset about something and cause serious damage to everything around him until Mommy calms him down. Even when he doesn’t go into the avatar state, he does things like verbally abuse his friends and abandon them in the desert when Appa goes missing.

All of this is completely relevant to who a hypothetical adult Aang would be and what he’d be like because, all throughout the series, there is never any accountability from Aang. He literally never takes responsibility for the things he does and makes amends or even just apologizes in a meaningful way because he never has to — the narrative makes sure of that. That’s the key part of Aang’s flaws, that Bryke genuinely thought they made a perfect good guy and had nary a crumb of self awareness that they accidentally made him a raging asshole who is constantly being rewarded for his shitty behavior. Even when he’s clearly in the wrong, like with the Bato situation in s1, they somehow turn it around so yeah, I guess he fesses up and apologizes but, at the end of the episode, Sokka and Katara are apologizing to him and there’s no lasting consequences for the shitty thing he did. Because of this crucial element of the story and Aang’s character, it is very likely that he’d go his whole life being a dickhead while continuing to never have consequences for that and somehow managing to maintain his friendships and relationship with Katara.

I want to kind of go through these one at a time, starting with the lack of accountability. Since Aang is the avatar, literally no one in the whole world of atla actually has authority over him, at least once he’s an adult. His peers are his equals but, even though Katara, Toph, and Zuko taught him his bending, they don’t really have any tangible authority over him as his teachers. Combine that with the fact that none of Aang’s friends really ever criticize him or hold him accountable for his actions and it becomes very clear that, as a father, he will never actually be held accountable for being a bad parent. What goes with this is that he also won’t be open to advice because he assumes he always knows best and the narrative also supports and rewards that. Between the two, he’s set up so that when he inevitably turns out to be a lousy father, there will be nothing anyone can say (assuming they would even say anything at all) to help him improve.

With this in mind, let’s start into the actual character flaws that, as concluded above, won’t be corrected at any point, starting with the toxic positivity. One of Aang’s most recognizable characteristics is his bright, cheery disposition which can be a good thing but also leads to him being very dismissive of anyone else’s problems or negative emotions. As a parent, he would never take his children’s problems seriously and would simply brush them off and tell his kids to practice detachment and just let go of whatever is bothering them, regardless of how serious the issue is or how much it matters to the kid. This will teach the kids both not to even try to bring their problems to at least one of their parents and also that any problem they have is actually inconsequential, so even when they do have really big, serious issues in life, they won’t be able to recognize it as such and get whatever help they might need. It also will convey to them that their own father just doesn’t really care about them, at least not enough to engage with them in any capacity about anything serious.

Next up is Aang’s selfishness. Throughout atla, we see time and time again that Aang struggles greatly with prioritizing literally anyone else over his own comfort and desires. He was more than willing to sacrifice the whole world for his ability to avoid having to engage in conflict and then, in season 2, he showed that he was 100% willing to sacrifice the whole world for his crush on Katara. It’s not just that he tends to thoughtlessly give into his impulses and desires without giving thought to how it affects others, it’s also that, because of who he is, that has the potential to cause immense damage and he still doesn’t care. As a father, he would always put himself before his wife and his children. He would treat Katara at least as badly and unfairly as he did in canon and his children would have the lovely experience of watching that and also growing up in a household where their wants and needs don’t really matter to their own father.

Another key factor when it comes to Aang’s personality is his avoidant tendencies. We see multiple times throughout the series just how far he’ll go to avoid doing things he doesn’t want to do, like preventing the world from complete destruction. In his household, I imagine he’d want no part of any of the real, ‘messy’ aspects of parenthood and would just have Katara do all those things. Anything to do with the mess of child care (changing diapers, cleaning up spit up, any sort of wound care for scraped knees, etc.), conflict resolution between quarreling siblings, or correction of misbehavior would fall to her. He, like plenty of real men, would only want to do the cute, fun parts of parenthood, like taking the kids to Disney, while making Mom the ‘bad guy’ who has to do all the real work. 

Then there’s also the impulsivity. Aang tends to get these ideas of things he wants to do and then, without any further thought, just goes and does them. This can be pretty harmless when it’s something like wanting to go penguin sledding and then going off and doing it but, as we’ve seen, there’s plenty of times where it isn’t, like when he hides Hakoda’s correspondence from Katara and Sokka in s1 because he’s feeling pissy. In parenthood, I think this is where we ended up with the unfair treatment showed in LoK because it’s his impulsivity driving it, but I don’t actually think he’d be out here treating his kids differently based on bending abilities, I think they’d all be pretty equally getting the short end of the stick from him. 

The way I see his impulsivity coming out with his family is either with grabbing the kids to go do something on a whim (like riding the elephant koi) or going off on his own or with Katara on some spur of the moment trip that leaves their kids alone or drags them away from home for weeks at a time with no notice. If they’d leave the kids alone while going off without them, that could lead to trauma around neglect and abandonment while, if they take the kids with them, the kids get stuck being dragged along and then ignored while Aang goes off to do all the stuff he’s there for that the kids weren’t really ever supposed to actually be part of. I think that, with stuff like this, the avoidance, and the toxic positivity, he’d think that he’s setting himself up to be the cool, fun dad with Katara being made out to be the ‘bad guy’ when, in truth, he’s out here fucking up his children and they’re going to know and hate him for it in the end.

The last part is the matter of his inability to regulate his emotions. It’s bad enough for anyone to have to sit there and watch as the same toxic positivity dickhead then struggles with anger issues he never even so much as apologizes for, but for his kids, I’m sure it’s unbearable. My dad has struggled with anger issues my whole life, as have I, but we take responsibility and we’ve both spent over two decades working on ourselves, trying to get better. Aang would never do that in any capacity. For his children, they’d get this environment where they can never be upset at all because it bothers Dad but then Dad can fly off into the fucking avatar state as soon as he’s even mildly inconvenienced. This model of ‘you being upset is just a little inconvenience you need to get over but when Dad’s upset it’s a huge deal and he’s actually allowed to be upset’ would be downright infuriating to live with and would definitely contribute to their children’s childhood trauma. It’s not just that you’re not allowed to be upset, it’s also that you always have to be walking on eggshells trying not to set this guy off.

Another thing I would add to this last point is something I learned from my family that I think is relevant here. My dad genuinely thought he was totally normal and didn’t have any anger issues until my brother and I were born, and he also was always really great with other people’s kids and never had problems there until he was working on the railroad with two babies at home. Yes, we’ve already seen Aang’s anger issues in canon, but I would also speculate that his mood and stuff would get worse once Tenzin’s born. This could either lead to him being absent for most of the kids’ early childhoods as he’d just avoid being around them if they’re triggering him or his anger issues could get worse and more prevalent once there’s kids in the mix. Either would be detrimental to his children’s mental health.

So I guess my point here is that LoK having it so Aang’s whole issue with fatherhood is that he treated his kids unequally doesn’t really cover the ways in which he’s set up to be a terrible father. I really don’t think favortism would even be an issue (I think all 3 kids would get dragged around to air nomad stuff, not just Tenzin) but Lord knows there’s other issues to be considered here. As a father, Aang would be selfish, impulsive, dismissive, thoughtless, and hypocritical as well as probably struggling with completely unchecked anger issues. His children would have trauma because of him and they would hate him, but not because he would leave two behind while dragging the eldest around on vacations. The cherry on top of the shit sundae of Aang’s fatherhood is that he would have no self awareness whatsoever as all of this would go unchecked by his wife and friends, so he would genuinely believe that he’s a good, fun, loving father all the way up to the moment of his death.

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Predictions: Eternity In A Box (Spoilers for Blood Communion)

In Ep3 I was freaking out over the parallels b/t vampires running their fingers thru Louis' hair as he thinks he (& Claudia) are gonna die.

In the movie's version of The Trial, Santiago condemns Louis to solitary confinement:

"Eternity in a box. Walled in a dungeon. Your only company will be your screams."

And I'm convinced the Theatre's gonna bury Louis alive.

TBF, I could be WAY off; but I was thinking abt how the scene went in the movie: the Theatre locked Louis in an iron coffin and buried him underground in the walls of Theatre, and how Mr. I Could Not Prevent It waited until way later to come in and literally dig Louis back up.

Hatred as a Box: Buried Alive

Both are HORRIBLE ways for vampires to "die." Compared to going out by fire it's a light sentence, sure, until you consider the LORE.

Iron + vampires = no bueno. (The same applies to witches & fae.)

Initially, AR's vampires weren't subject to traditional wards like silver, iron, crosses, garlic, etc. The Theatre coffin was wooden, just sealed with iron locks. But magic DOES have a strong effect on vamps, as highlighted in Merrick.

In TVA Armand describes his kidnapping by the Children of Satan:

In Blood Communion, AR specifically retconned iron in 2 notable instances. Cyril bound Baudwin in iron pickets ripped from a wrought-iron fence:

And most infamously: Rhosh's kidnap of Gabrielle, Marius, & Louis:

(I pray to GOD that AMC gets this far, it's one of my fave AR books.)

I can't tell if the coffin AMC!Lou's in is iron or wood, but if he's stuffed in the Wet Room's morgue-like "burial vaults," that's definitely metal, if not steel/iron. Which is such a clever modern update to coffins. 👌

Then there's the pebbles all over Louis. Nothing much here, except that they're made of stone, and I was reminded of the hardening/crystalizing process of AR's vampires, as they age & become more & more stone-like as their luracastria hardens over time.

The stone hardening of a vampire =/= Death, but rather SLEEP; as exemplified with Akasha & Enkil--the 2 oldest vamps, who look/feel like statues. (The QotD movie took this too literally with Maharet.)

But yeah, I like the visual poetry of Lou in a coffin full of stone pebbles, essentially put to sleep by Santiago for eternity in a box; which is not unlike too what Rhosh would end up doing to him in BC.

Love as a Box: A Prized Treasure

The imagery of coffins & the theme of Louis spending eternity in a box further made me think abt Louis' (toxic) romantic relationships.

I've spoken ad nauseum abt Loustat, so I wanna focus more on Loumand here. Cuz Armand's love of Lou seems to contradict his tendency to wait for catastrophe to strike b4 he "rescues" Lou from horrible situations that could've been avoided had Armand made his move a lot sooner. (Unkind & ungracious, I know, but I'm on a tangent here.)

We see this with the Theatre, as Armand lets the coven slowly descend upon Louis & Claudia, knowing they're in danger but wanting Claudia out of the picture before he extracts Louis.

We're seeing it in Dubai, as Louis' broken "in pieces for the privilege of putting them back together again," like jigsaw pieces kept in a box. (Not NEFARIOUSLY, but Louis does speak about "pieces of himself" that he's lost/forgotten. And he asks Armand's permission to see Claudia's diaries? Which tells me that Coven Master Armand's ALWAYS held significant sway over Louis' life in their household.

And I suspect that we'll see it again if AMC pulls a Merrick on us, and swaps out Merrick & David for Armand & Lestat (a la AR's Tulane drafts), when Louis puts his own coffin in the sun and burns alive.

Cuz this is all just history repeating itself. We've seen this dynamic in Lou's life w/ Les. As his 2 great romantic loves, Les & Armand are similar & different. Neither of them's healthy for Lou, but they genuinely love him in their own effed up way. But Claudia's still right: BOTH of them keep Lou in a box.

Louis of Troy: Venus de Milo

Let's think for a sec abt the Venus de Milo we saw at the end of Ep1:

At the time I was thinking: why did AMC pick that statue? Sure, it's famous & iconic and is at the Louvre in Paris. But I stuck a pin it it.

Loumand visits an art museum in Ep4, and we can probably assume it'll have something to do with Armand's career as an art thief/broker.

During WWII all kinds of buildings got looted & bombed up, and museums had to literally bury their priceless art in boxes/crates in the dirt in order to keep them safe from the Nazis and people who wanted to steal/destroy the priceless statues.

Which is ironic, cuz a lot of discovered art was excavated/dug up; people exhuming ancient statues out of the dark earth, into the light of a new era--like a vampire. (Venus de Milo was dug up too.)

Supposedly, VdM depicts the Greek goddess of love, Aphrodite, holding the Apple of Discord in her hand (which was found broken off next to the statue). The Apple of Discord was the prize given to Aphrodite during the Judgement of Paris, a beauty pageant that caused Paris to run off with (the already married) Helen of Troy/Sparta & started the Trojan War. Herodotus, the "Father of History," said the West (Greeks/Europeans) vs the East (Asians/Africans) were always fighting cuz people kept stealing e/o's brides. 😂 Women were chattel just like animals in antiquity, so bride raids & cattle raids were typical catalysts for numerous mythic & historic conflicts.

Typical xenophobic fodder for racist miscegenation laws, ofc, but vampire literature eats this trope up, thanks to Dracula. AR's books do this over & over--culminating in Rhosh's infamous rape/capture of Gabrielle, Louis & Marius in BC. And AMC's emphasis on interracial/multicultural relationships inevitably draws comparisons, too.

Naturally, I'm thinking about how Troy burned over Helen; and the Theatre burned over Claudia (& Madeleine); and the Chateau burned over Gabrielle/Louis/Marius.

But I'm also thinking about how the first time Akasha & Enkil moved in 1000+ years, it was cuz Akasha allowed Lestat to drink from her, and Enkil was so mad that he got up and nearly curbstomped Lestat to mush b4 Marius wrestled Enkil off of him. 🤣

The victim/woman inevitably gets blamed, from Helen to Akasha, and ofc Louis; but it still tracks that entire wars get launched purely over love/sex--another form of treasure/money/property/status.

And I can't help but wonder how much AMC will or won't lean into the possibility that Lou's being held captive in the Dubai penthouse by Armand--NOT necessarily by force, but rather by...compliance; COMPLICIT--and that their relationship is a huge catastrophe that Lestat will inevitably have to "rescue" Louis from like some damsel in distress, like he had to do with Nicki. Or if Lou will somehow rescue himself and NOT pull a Merrick after all. 👀

And that (finally) brings me to my final point.

Safety as a Box: Louis' "coffin"

When Daniel asked Lou where his coffin was, Lou told Dan the entire Dubai penthouse was his coffin. Thanks to Armand's UV-light-controlled iPad, the vamps can walk safely in gold-warm sunlight.

But the penthouse still radiates CHILL. They're in the middle of a desert, but Daniel's constantly in a cardigan, Louis' often dressed in hoodies, Armand even wears an actual coat--it looks cold. 🙁 The sunlight's filtered/diluted; it can't warm anybody--human or vamp.

As opposed to the natural lighting at 1132, coming not from the windows (which are always carefully closed & curtained), but from the fireplaces--seemingly ALWAYS roaring by Loustat's coffins in the Coffin Room, and sofas in the parlor (there's another one across from their bed, too). 1132 exudes warmth; the florals & earthtones adding to the tropical NOLA vibe--there's peacocks on their wallpapers ffs.

Loustat's townhouse emulates a wild & free Savage Garden, but the vampires sleep in extremely close quarters in their coffins--even doubling up after Lou breaks Les.' Is it confining? Or intimate?

I have to wonder if, in Louis' efforts to take Claudia's words to heart, and not be confined in a "small box" anymore, Lou insisted on not sharing a coffin with his 2nd husband. Instead, they sleep in a HUGE king-sized bed, with plenty of space (at the price of less intimacy). But Louis hilariously STILL sleeps like a corpse vampire in a coffin, arms/hands folded across his chest! XD

And as spacious as Louis' new bed is, he's sleeping in a literal JAIL CELL; an utterly inorganic crypt-looking edifice of strange shapes, where the open plan does nothing to distract from the mental patient aura of the sunken bed & padded ceiling & metal (iron? 👀) cage bars. Is it for Louis' reluctant safety? Or for Louis' elusive sanity?

Pick Your Poison

So this is my long-winded way of saying: Lou's BEEN doomed to spend eternity in a box. It's just that that box is shaped & defined by the love his 2 control-freak toxic AF husbands have for him:

Lestat is clingy and heavy-handed, and 1132 is more cramped/crowded, but more warm & intimate. It's a contained wilderness/Savage Garden in miniature; the seraglio crawling with mistresses (Antoinette) & soldiers picked for an orgy; fit for a pimp--where Louis himself is paranoiacally caged like a prized slave/housewife.

Armand is more distant/mature (internally desperate) and enabling, and the Dubai penthouse is more spacious/open-planned, cold and foreboding; a locked off tower in the sky. It's a glorified jail cell not even trying to disguise its bars; full of around-the clock staff & handlers & nursemaids/doctors (Fareed)--where Louis is jealously guarded like an in-house mental patient kept in an asylum.

[akechi-stole-my-heart]

no more what ifs - a goro akechi meta

Inspired by a meta I reblogged a bit ago. It was really good and you should read it, as it serves as a good companion piece to this analysis, but it didn't analyze the song through the specific lens I personally believe it's meant to be seen through--that is, the Third Semester/Maruki's reality. Don't get me wrong, I think the song can be applied to Akechi in general, just that we can't truly understand the depths of its meaning unless we view it through the lens of what Akechi is feeling in the Third Semester. Needless to say, that's what I'll be doing here.

People come and they go Some people may stay with you though I am all alone tonight and I kept on Asking myself questions

Akechi has lived most of his life alone. People have come and gone temporarily, but no one has really stuck until Joker entered his life. (I don't think I need to make the case that it's Joker he's talking about when he says some people stay with you, I think it's pretty obvious it has to be him.) Joker, someone he can't comprehend, the only person he's let in. Akechi can't understand Joker, so naturally, he's constantly thinking of him, and why he's stuck with him when so many others haven't.

Conceited I was at time I never really doubted myself But tonight got me thinking about it all If I am the fool or what not

All Akechi can do in the Third Semester is think about his choices and his mistakes and wonder if he did the right thing and what led him here. He's been forced to live (for now) after everything he'd worked and lived for fell apart under him. He's reflecting on his past arrogance and how that blinded him.

"If I am the fool or what not" holds a double meaning. Akechi is doubting if he was a fool in the general sense, if he was made a fool for his plan of revenge. But he's also wondering if he was the Fool in the Persona sense of the word (something that will have a payoff at the end of the song).

I do not Regret with my choices I'm rather proud Ooh I know I won't change Anything Because I can only be me so

Akechi can't afford regret. To regret would be to admit that Maruki's ideal reality, where his choices were erased, has any hold on him. To regret would be to let go of the person he is and the person he has become.

Who Akechi really is is another topic that can be elaborated on ad nauseum, so I won't do that here. Maybe I'll do that another time when I finally write the meta about Akechi and agency that's been living in my head for a long while.

Suffice to say, Akechi believes his choices, his actions, his revenge, all define him. He refuses to let Maruki erase them just because they don't fit with his ideal reality. Akechi is fundamentally incompatible with everything Maruki stands for, and he knows it.

How can I be so sure? At a crossroads I'm afraid too But I can't let fear get the best of me Someone once said burn my dread babe

"Burn my dread" is a reference to a song from Persona 3. I haven't played the entire game as of yet, but Persona 3 is a game all about facing and accepting death. "Burn my dread" is a lyric that points to this theme, and the theme of facing one's fears head-on.

Akechi is dead. He knows this perhaps from the very moment he comes back to life. He certainly knows it for most of the Third Semester. He is dead, and to reject Maruki's reality, to embrace himself, is to face that death for the second time, and accept it. But Akechi can't let his fear of death stop him from making his choice. He will die on his own terms and "burn his dread."

Who knows what tomorrow holds? Just wanna live my life the way I want What fills up my soul is passionate Music that makes me want to sing

This is, yet again, Akechi asserting that he will be himself, that he will find meaning in life on his own terms, and that he will not let anyone other than himself define who he is or what he wants. Music is dynamic and complex, something that can express deep truths of one's soul. The Jazz Jin, a place of music, is Akechi's in a way very little else is. It's not Shido's puppet's, not the Detective Prince's, but Akechi's place of solitude and self reflection. It is the place he decides to share with Joker--in a way, he is baring his very soul to Joker. Letting him into his heart.

My story will be starring me just like yours ooh ooh Who knows when will it end What matters most is how you bring joy to life so

This is paying off the beginning of the song. Akechi is asserting that the world doesn't revolve around Joker. Goro is the Fool, he is the main character, he is not defined by anyone but himself and himself alone.

And the last two lines simply restate themes running throughout the song. Akechi is himself. He will accept his death when it comes, and he will not live by anyone's rules but his own.

No More What Ifs shows us the doubt that Akechi rarely expresses that runs deep to his core. Wondering if he made a mistake in isolating himself, wondering if Joker was right all along, wondering if and how things might have gone wrong.

But Akechi can't let himself doubt for long. He always comes back to that certainty that he can't be anyone but himself. He can't let anyone change him. He can't let go of who he is, not for anything. The song is full of him reassuring himself of his path--that no matter what, he will not regret. He can't afford it. He will not waver from his path.

Now, more than ever, after being faced with the consequences of his mistakes and being offered an out, Akechi has to assert his free will and defy Maruki. And that's what this song expresses.

[pl0xm4st3r]

Rant incoming. I'm really just writing this for myself because I don't want to keep pestering my friends about Persona 3 Reload as I play it. I'm sure all of this has been talked about ad nauseum in the fandom but I don't really interact in fandom spaces. I want to but it's these kinds of thoughts I know people have talked about before that dissuades me. I don't feel I have anything to add.

Anyway, a friend and I were talking about how each of the Persona protagonists are blank slates, and they brought up how despite this, they still think it's possible to play "as them." Which is to say, they all manage to have distinct personalities despite the game not giving you much in terms of characterization.

The first place I noticed this was in the few dialogue options you get. I've only played Persona 5 Royal and I'm in the middle of P3R (Beginning of October), so I'm comparing those. I noticed that Makoto has a lot of instances where you can pick some variation of "What a pain" meanwhile Joker never says anything like that that I can remember. Joker does have instances where he's annoyed, but he tends to be snarky rather than purely dismissive. I think my friend put it well when he said that it paints the picture of Makoto being someone who's constantly in his own head. The fact that he always carries around an MP3 player and can tune out at any moment adds to that. And that brings me to character design.

Obviously with both wearing uniforms, there's a limited amount of expression in that alone. What's more significant here to me is posing. Makoto is slouched over, hands in his pockets, looking down. Joker has a wide stance, and while his head is at a 3/4ths as well, his head is turned more up, and he has a slight smile. Now, in-game they're a lot more similar (slouching and having their hands in their pockets all the time), but I do think this is a significant difference in how Atlus chose to present them.

And my final point is that their characters reflect the themes and aesthetic of the game. Like, obviously this is true, they're each the protagonist. It would be an strange design decision to make them stand out from the rest of the game for no reason. I bring it up because, like I mentioned at the beginning, they're each blank slate characters, so it's hard to latch on to anything with them. And yet, I read a distinct personality from each of them, one reflected by the spirit of the game. Persona 5 is about rebellion and standing up for what you think is right, it's incredibly lively. Meanwhile Persona 3 is markedly more melancholy, and it's mired in death everywhere thematically. I read Joker as far more confident and fiery, while Makoto is more closed off and sad.

What was the point in me writing all this? For one, because I just have a bunch of thoughts bundled up. But it's also because I enjoy writing fanfiction, and I've been wondering how you write characters like these while keeping them accurate. It's hard enough to stay accurate the side characters with more established personalities. How do you write blank slate? It gives you more freedom, but at the same time there is so little to base anything off of that it's easier to go off the path of true characterization. In other words, "he would not fucking say that." How do you write a Joker, a Makoto, a Link, a Gordon Freeman?

[senka-mesecine]

How would the platoon boys react to a pregnancy scare happening at the worst possible moment, weird request but hey 😅

-

― Not weird, because I think Taylor would live with the firm conviction how much he doesn't want a cookie cutter, commonplace 'small house and family' type of existence his own folks had and consequently tried to push unto him as an ideal too and then the minute any notion of pregnancy happens, regardless if the moment's good or bad, it's like his whole worldview and mentality gets instantly re-wired and turned upside down and now that's about the only thing he does want. To possessive degrees. Not that he'd say it. Not that he'd necessarily even really show it in any particular way just yet. But, it's there. The thought's germinating around inside of his head and good luck ever getting it out of there ever again. Might contemplate writing a really intense letter about it back home only to crumple it up and throw it into the fire because he's here going mad just how much this started mattering. Meaning that the instant it turns out to be just a false alarm, Chris is almost...dare I say, more disappointed than he can put into words? He won't ever accept this conclusion. Someone else might have to point out to him and vocalize his own unspoken thoughts back to him. Say, for example, Rhah? 'You done changed your mind about something for once and you can't even swallow the fact yourself!' he might say and it's true. He wants this now and it's uncomfortable to admit he's changed and developed a different opinion.

― O'Neill acts like he's the pregnant party here. No. I mean it. He takes the pregnancy so much to heart that it better not be a mere scare, because he's invested into this whole thing as much as a man can be invested; this just isn't a situation he can take mildly with an 'we'll see how it pans out' approach. There's no 'we'll see' with him; he's immediately 100% and about as nervy and jittery as O'Neill can get. Rest & Recreation? How about deployment home? How about he moped someone into it? What if he almost begged? I swear, he could be all cracking voice and on the verge of tears about it because he's that desperate to be back. Don't people know you and him are pregnant!? Well, yeah, maybe pregnant, like fifty-fifty chances, but still --- is very likely he'd be the type to use the word 'we' when talking about the whole thing and he spins in-advance anecdotes ad-nauseum on the whole baby subject of when he rotates back into the world; man's talking about it all like he already has five kids waiting for him back home and might be the most wholeheartedly heartbroken out of the whole bunch when it turns out to be a scare and nothing more. Probably takes out his grief and frustrations on the other rookie soldiers because it has to be channeled someplace. If Red acts like even more of a prick than usual is because this shit profoundly hurt him.

― Bunny likes the whole pregnancy scare. It's fun; he likes it because it's slightly messed up, you're in a state of distress, unsure whether you are or aren't, you're like territory that's been marked and all of this because he's the one who knocked you up and that? That comes with major bragging rights. Which he does --- he'd brag about it incessantly and in the most perverse ways possible. He treats it borderline like a prank gone right irregardless of what the final outcome might be. If you wind up being pregnant, heck yeah, he rawdogged your pussy and there's tangible proof to be shown for it and if you don't, heck yeah, he'll always have memories of that one time you were almost-nearly-kinda knocked up by him. See, guy's chaos incarnate in ways. No matter what happens he'll be gleefully pleased about it and there's no two ways around it all even though say, someone like Junior might not understand what crazy bitch allowed Bunny of all people to nut into them and nearly produce a Bunny Junior as a result, as if the world needed any more Bunnies when one's quite enough and even that, mind you, even that makes Bunny feel weirdly victorious in the most juvenile way possible. Yep. He got a whiff of delicious cunt, so what now? Gonna piss on his sunshine? Well, nobody can, because what's been fucked can't be un-fucked.

― A hill I'll die on is that while he might suck in the position of a Lieutenant, Wolfe would actually relatively excel in civilian life, and what he lacks in skill and ability in warfare he makes up in times of peace, meaning that he takes the pregnancy scare like...a normal person. A vaguely adjusted person, even. Might try to tell his platoon the jubilant news (in a hapless attempt to brag about at least something he's accomplished in hopes of gaining some respect among his own men) only for them to mostly ignore him, which he's used to. Almost relieved by it, in a sense, because he technically didn't hide anything from his platoon but the information didn't produce enough interest for anyone to be tremendously sleazy or smarmy about it either. Or hey, maybe someone will be slightly sleazy or smarmy about it, but it's a joke that ultimately produces so little fuel Wolfe generally can just enjoy this whole news for what it is; a good bit of news. And funny that, if it turns out to be a false alarm, it's a good bit of news Wolfe might just...you know...perpetuate. Yeah, he'd occasionally lie you're pregnant even if you're not or act like he's not a clue when someone points it out; almost preferable if you are pregnant because the web of petty deceit Wolfe might spin if you ain't is almost sweetly pathetic.

― Elias is overjoyed. Overjoyed but also wise and tempered enough to be subdued and introspective about it when it matters. There is no such thing as 'the worst possible time' for him, because any time you're giving him news like this is the best thing that could've ever happened. See? It's almost like life renewing itself in so many ways. He's been in the war so long existence itself is sending him a providence of sorts. And in fact, the darker the moment he gets this particular news is, the more Elias sees it as a sign of pure and unspoiled hope even if it only just turns out to be a false alarm and you're not actually pregnant, Elias takes it to heart. He's content either ways. Content with anything related to you. For your sake as well more than anyone's, even his own. If you were pregnant, he's happy and if it turns out to be a scare he's still happy because he doesn't want that burden solely on you when he's not around to take over. He wants you relieved from that until he's actually with you. You're all alone back home and he's here. Last thing he'd want is to leave you without a defense system at a time like this. So, genuinely? Either outcome is good because he's looking out for your best interests at the cost of his own personal wishes, coming off as genuinely very selfless and mature. Life has a way of figuring itself out that way and life will figure itself out and he loves you throughout it all. Saintly amounts of understanding and empathy.

― What would even constitute the worst possible moment for someone like Barnes? Because there ain't a worst possible moment. He's a Lifer. War's what he thrives in. And it ain't a scare because he's not scared of it. If anything, Barnes might be internally infuriated because he's showing himself the one weakness he never thought he'd have; and that's the desire to go home. Yep. He wants to go home because you're pregnant. Not that anyone knows. Not that anyone suspects. Things run the same as usual. The gears keep turning. So does the machine. Everything's in perfect order. Barnes personally makes sure everything's exactly the same like his life depends on it. It's just internally, he'd kill to rotate back into the world and to him, that clashes with his mentality and view of the world so much it fundamentally shakes...well...everything. Shocking to say, he'd be profoundly unhappy and miserable away from you regardless if this is a pregnancy scare or not and he drowns this vulnerability in booze. Bloodshed. Probably being even more of a cruel hard-ass than ever before. By killing, yes. He loathes and loves you for it, you see. For giving him a reason to want to rotate back to society. Begrudges you for it, sure. But, there's also such a profound yearning there it can hardly be put into words and what's worse, it's all contained inside of one man who's wholly poker faced about it...and snapping by the seams by the day. Which is a dangerous combination. Fire and gasoline.

[ms-scarletwings]

Media Musin’ Monday, #7:

Screw You, Nickalodeon: Making Fiends Deserved Better

I have no idea how anyone could seriously believe that the entertainment industrial complex™ even tries anymore to hold the illusion of a just or meritocratic realm. No holds barred, I have my issues with about every company still clinging like barnacles to the tragic, sinking ship that cable TV has become, but if you want me to point to a network that’s given me an entire skeleton of bones to pick by this point, and I’m underlining Nickelodeon in red at the top of my list.

It’s not because they host some bad shows, no. It’s not a sour grapes reaction to the untimely end of some of my favorite shows either, and though the entire rotten apple situation with creators like Dan Schneider and Butch Hartman certainly added to barrel’s spoilage, I would still feel every bit of my disdain for Nick’s tv group for the one cardinal sin they have committed again and again and again to ad nauseum- their ongoing phase of running a talent slaughterhouse.

It sounds hyperbolic, but I’d call it a fair observation: Spongebob is widely aknowledged as legitimately both the best and the worst thing to happen to this corner of kid’s media, hands down, but I don’t blame the little yellow guy one bit. He’s only another victim to the mess, and as much as I would love to go on a whole dossier spiel of the history of Nickalodeon from the 90s “golden age” to a full list of the dozens of shows and creators their execs have royally fucked over in the name of chasing the ratings dragon… for one, that’s been done a hundred times by other people at this point, and much better than I could. For two, that would take all freaking day. Just off the top of any cartoon savvy person’s head you’d vaguely recall the assassination of Legend of Korra, El Tigre, or Invader Zim, but that can is filled with so many “blink and you’ll miss it” smaller shows that were barely given two steps out of the starting gate, it pads down an entire TVTropes article on the subject. Dozens of them, shows that Nick all but basically set up for failure before quietly shipping them to the peaceful farm upstate- by which I mean shuffled off to inconsistent time blocks and lower priority channels so they could burn out their final approved episodes in hospice. Nicktoons alone garnered a hell of a reputation for exactly what I’m talking about, but that’s show biz, or… something.

Their worst and probably most audacious offense of all? Let me tell you about the fate of the charming world of a little girl who made fiends.

There’s no better place to talk about the end than the beginning.

Making Fiends, I mean, the original Making Fiends was a series of flash-animated shorts among a handful of other early 2000s web cartoons made by Amy Winfrey.

✨ Just, in case you didn’t recognize or feel something for that name, Amy Winfrey is one of the utter beasts of cartoons in general, not purely kids’ media. Songwriter, directing, animation, screenwriting, voice acting… you name a part of the process, and she’s probably dipped her toe in there at some point. Professionally, she broke into the industry contributing work to earliest season of South Park, and while she personally is most known for and associated with Making Fiends, the likely most prominent body of work she’s been a part of would be Bojack Horseman, wherein she’s credited as a director for many of its strongest episodes, including (but not limited to):

- “Free Churro”

- “The Telescope”

- "Sunk Cost and All That"

- “The View from Halfway Down”

- Amy Winfrey and her spouse (Peter Merryman) making a cameo appearance in the BJH episode “sunk cost and all that”

And even before all of that, she’s been at this animation stuff since the 90s and it shows in a loaded up portfolio of accolades and projects, both professional and personal.

The relevance of this information is to help put in some perspective to just how rotten of a deal she comparatively got with Nickelodeon, when one of those passion creations got a chance to join the network’s airing list.

But to sum up the idea of the web series proper, it independently released 24 short episodes in total, each centered around the antics of two girls engaged in both a completely one sided friendship and nemesis-ship. The show’s namesake refers to the single action the evil little Vendetta is most known for- creating a variety of servant monsters, many of which she uses to secure her rule over the port town of Clamburg, and all its inhabitants. Charlotte, on the other hand, is the quintessential “children’s show” character: near inhumanly kind, cheerful, and naive. So much so that she’s oblivious to her “best friend’s” near daily attempts to murder her, or the fact that she, you know, despises her.

In 2006, Nickelodeon took an interest in Winfrey’s toon and the prospect of adapting it into a TV series, reportedly because a daughter of a studio employee was a huge fan.

And fun fact btw, this was actually the first time that Nick did this approach of turning an indie web animation into one of their shows, but it certainly wasn’t the last if you remember this was also the origin of Breadwinners.

And as far as the audience was concerned, it was quite the successful transition! The TV version pretty much kept all of the major beats and vibes of the original, with polished animation, the same voice actors, and some stylistic upgrades to the art/environmental designs. For a brief time, it was the highest rated thing on its release channel too. Someone I don’t quite recall the name of once endearingly referred to the show as “baby’s first grimdark” and I adore how fitting of a summary that is. It sports a charmingly unique art style, memorable soundtrack, and I can swear to y’all, the humor aged like a fine wine.

“Why don’t you pretend to be dead?”

“:) ok!”

*slam*

(Also, sidenote, the entire series is still up on your tube, in HD, completely free to watch!)

So, if it’s such a neat little show, then why on earth does barely a soul seem to remember it existing? And even fewer scare who recall knowing about the show during its 2008 release?

Because Nickelodeon Studios, without hyperbole, set this show up for failure at every single turn before it even got a fighting chance.

People know of some shows that Nick treated like garbage, but this one they treated like absolute shit for reasons I can’t fathom.

Making Fiends, for one, never actually saw the light of day on the main network channel, as per the original plans. It was actually instead delegated over to Nick’s sister channel, Nicktoons, by a last minute decision.

Nicktoons, fyi, was not carried by most cable packages. I obviously lived on it as a kid, and it was functionally to Nick what I remember Boomerang being to Carton Network- the cable block where reruns of much older but loved shows were shoveled off to once they finished their days on the main channel.

Second, it was quietly premiered with barely a couple farts of advertising, too. I remember maybe seeing one preview as a kid, on Nicktoons.

And I guess, not keeping either of these in mind, Nick then abruptly pulled the plug on the whole thing, citing the tried and true “low ratings” explanation and leaving it at that.

Not counting years of post-cancelation reruns, the show actively ran from October 4, 2008, to November 1, 2008.

That is roughly a month between premiere and the end production date.

One season. Six entire episodes.

Seven whole additional completed scripts abandoned on the table.

Yeah.

I’m a touch salty about it still.

And with the shutting down of the Nicktoons network social media in 2018, any additional acknowledgment of the show from Nickelodoen themselves has kind of vanished to my knowledge. Like, it’s almost no wonder you already had to be part of the cult following to know about it, when Nick has been quiet about the calf they sent to auction since. Worst part is, they still hogged the rights to the show instead of idk, wild idea, giving it back over to Winfrey. I can only imagine people get away with entire reuploads of the series under the otherwise very IP protective Nick’s nose as another display of how low and bastardly those execs really view Making Fiends.

And that sucks! Wow! But I guess in a “be happy it happened, not sad it ended” way, I’m kind of glad for the fact that we can still enjoy and pass around the show that we did get to experience at all, rather than see it fade into true lost media territory.

Even today, about 16 whole years later, I know for a fact there are still plenty of other fans that remember and cherish the splash this tiny show made in that big, brutal pond. So, in that manner, you can’t truly call Making Fiends dead and gone.

A bittersweet story to think about, and only one of many down a long list, but ultimately one I’m happy to be able to tell at all.

Even if all the while still raising a giant middle finger to the network for the ending.

[lindszeppelin]

curiosity- at what point do you accept a PR relationship involves the PR teams of both people? where does austin and his team/kate factor in? you do a lot of talking about kaia and her team being sinister mastermind plotters but seem hesitant to be critical of your stake in it in regards to austin and his team. i can personally see the argument for it being set up for PR, but not in the sense that he’s “trapped” which seems to be the main narrative on here. they’re too much net benefit on his end for that to be the case: the business connections he now has access to through rande, even more so bc rande seems to love him and is probably “grooming” him for casamigos involvement. connections through cindy and kaia such as laura dern, the general privilege of being plus-oned into a million, probably billion dollar dynasty family when while i’m sure he’s well off, he doesn’t come from money. more paparazzi opportunities that give him just as much PR as they do her. and to be a bit crass, a young, thin (not saying to be fatphobic and hoping you know what i mean), pretty model to get him off at the end of the day. he hasn’t exactly gotten nothing but pain out of this deal.

you got pretty close with all the ‘they’s in the part of your post calling *them* hypocritical for how they talk about privacy. but i’m curious for your brutally honest take on austin and his team’s involvement. understandable that you might be wary to upset other fans, but i think being critical of your faves is healthier than constantly falling on the sword for them. 

slow your roll, cowboy. this needs to be addressed and then we move on.

i have never not said that PR relationships DON'T involve both PR teams. It seems like you are maybe new here to my blog. I have said so much over the span of probably a year discussing all of this ad nauseum. i call out her team predominately because her team has done most of the heavy lifting. his team only seems to step in when the record needs to be corrected.

so with that being said, do you hear yourself? what planet are you living on where you truly think rande is grooming austin to take over casamigos? also, a billion dollar dynasty family? what is this, Downton Abbey? sanity has left the chat.

austin has made connections, money, and fantastic career choices without the Gerbers throughout his entire career spanning a decade and he will continue to do so without them. while he was working the field going to auditions and working on critically acclaimed shows, she was playing hopscotch with her friends in a malibu elementary school. he does not need their help, he has done it by himself very well and is managing his new level of fame in his own way.

you wanna talk about grooming? kaia has been groomed since she was little by her own family in the ways of Hollywood and how to move through it via the nepotism she has. you think that they don't give their daughter the hardest hitting PR team in LA? they play this Hollywood game for breakfast. there are two people in this situationship...one comes from humble beginnings living with his divorced parents in their family's garage, and the other one was bred into hollywood culture since birth. we are not even on the same galaxy, let alone the same planet when it comes to these two and how they move through life and their values.

we can be critical, but austin has not done anything to warrant us as fans being critical of him in regards to his PR. he doesn't care about externals like money or the glitz of hollywood. he is clearly not tempted by that shit. yes he didn't come from money, but it's shitty of you to presume that just because he has been with the Gerber's that he is this changed guy who all of a sudden cares about materialistic bullshit.. do you see this guy driving an Escalade drinking boxed water and going out to parties and rubbing elbows with the elites every weekend? no. and do you see this guy calling the paps on himself and enjoying the paps attention? no. are you blind? did you sleep through all of the last Cabo vacation and literally every single time he is papped with her? incredible selective memory.

being with kaia has made him worse off and he has not gained any benefit from this situationship. austin is not this Machiavellian schemer that rubs his hands together and plots "how can i use the gerbers to benefit my career?" like you think he does. and it's sad that you do.

in conclusion, im not here to be well liked and play to people's feelings. i don't give a damn. i am here to support austin and his career, period.

[theliterarywolf]

I think the worst thing about the whole welcome home situation is that it really brings to light 1. just how "commercialized" the perception around creative pursuits has become (it might not be the right word but I can't think of another one). like this isn't [insert random corporation]'s IP #67484934 but someone's own work they are still directly involved in and unaffiliated with any major company. and 2. somehow the basic concept of respecting boundaries has been lost not just on fanpol but some proshippers too it seems. "no nsfw of my original characters please" is a pretty reasonable boundary actually and if someone feels the need to do it anyways they should at least have the decency to keep it private and away from the og creator instead of mocking them for *checks notes* being so arrogant as to have one boundary on interacting with THEIR work that they were so kind as to share with others on the internet

"Just how "commercialized" the perception around creative pursuits has become"

No, that's it exactly and we can see this echoed and causing the trickle effect that has led to the current situation with art and creative media in general.

Look at how the concept of a good adaptation (books, games, comics, anime, etc) is a rarity and not the norm. It's because you have a bunch of talking-head studio-executives not seeing the IPs they're scrambling over as creations from individual groups and artists but just something to get eyes on a watered-down screen, milk for ad-revenue, and then repeat the process with another IP.

Look at how the Triple-A video game space has turned into less of a 'we want to create fresh new experiences and ideas' and more 'okay, let's get a skeleton crew to make enough of a game to justify DLC and live-services for a year or two... Okay, time to do the same thing over again!'

Look at NFTs and AI "art" and how, the only reason why those two things were able to rise to the plague they currently are is because you have this brain-dead portion of the population who refuse to see art as a practiced skill of human labor that should be paid for and appreciated as such but, instead, they just 'want something pretty to look at for a second before getting another something pretty to look at for a second before...' Ad-nauseum.

Two perfect recent examples of that last one: one dude who calls himself rapidly making 'better' art of Princess Peach when all he's doing is clicking on an AI and getting nightmare amalgamations that look worse than pre-Toy Story Pixar and one person who made a piece of Sonic fanart with a human fem!Sonic in the center but all the 'Sonics' around her looked more inbred than the Hapsburgs.

But, of course, even with actual artists pointing out 'hey, these look wonky/weird/bad', you have thousands of people who don't care. Why? Well, look back to a certain comment that people use to dunk on current Star Wars, Marvel, and other mainstream IPs:

'Don't ask questions; just consume product and then get excited for the next product'.

No one wants to think about the creators of their favored IPs anymore. They just want to be given the shiny new ball to treat (or mistreat) in any way they see fit for a while before dumping it to the wayside a month or so later to do it to something else. And if, heaven forbid, you get a creator who dares to want to have some matter of agency with how people engage with their creation, well...

'Why do you hate people having fun?'

'Well, I'm just going to do it anyway.'

'So... Anyway, these characters are now mine because the creator is obviously shitty and doesn't know them as well as I do'

And then

The Cycle

Repeats

Anew.

[echoweaver]

Get to Know You - Sims Edition

I was tagged by @hazely-sims. It takes me a while to respond, but I love being tagged.

What’s your favorite Sims death?

I’ve had to do some extreme challenge rules to let my sims die of anything other than old age. I have a difficult time letting my sims take risks that might get them killed. Amusingly, I don’t like that that pets have no other ways to die in the vanilla game because even though I don’t let them die, I want it to be meaningful for me to take care of them. 🤷‍♀️

OTOH, I love ghosts. I’ve added death types for cats and dogs with my Pets mods, and I’ve explored ALL the ghost types ad nauseum to pick ones that go well with those death types. A lot of the most obscure ghosts are the best ones. Vampire Thirst has a beating heart that is really impressive. Mummy’s Curse has neat color effects. Freezing to Death puffs out fog breath. They’re great, and they work seamlessly with pets.

Alpha CC or MaxisMatch?

Almost exclusively MaxisMatch. I used to use a mix, but over time the clash of art styles really started bothering me. Going all-alpha is way more work than all-mm, and I actually enjoy my sims’ lightly cartoony appearance.

Do you cheat your sims weight?

No. I want my sims to have a variety of weights, and I prefer body weight to just be genetic. My second gen heir for the Samples, Lancelot, was pretty heavy, and he was Athletic, so I made him a bodybuilder. Then he passed that physique down to his kids because Sims 🙄. After that, most of my sims have ended up slim by chance. My choice of mate is in-game and almost entirely gameplay driven, so there’s no particular reason partners would be slim or fit.

Do you move objects?

Since I’m very gameplay-driven, you’d think I wouldn’t use it much, but @hazely-sims is right. How can you play without it? If you use the default game restrictions, everything in your house ends up looking like it was place on a grid, which it kinda was.

Favorite Mod?

Good grief. I’m going to set aside NRaas, since that suite is rightly most people’s choice. One mod that’s had a big effect on my game is @flotheory‘s Make a Mess. Toddlers got to be incredibly boring, and EA reacted by creating store content that allowed them to skill themselves and be as unintrusive as possible. That was the wrong choice! Toddlers need to be a big PITA. You need to watch them every minute. That’s a real simulation of toddlerhood!

I also have gotten into more detailed survival simulation with my medieval game. @anitmb‘s Hunting Mod has been a big part of making that fun. Also Ingredients Overhaul and custom harvestables and recipes (psst Plantable Wheat)

First Expansion/Game Pack/Stuff Pack?

I played The Sims and TS2, but not very long. I didn’t learn about fan-made challenges until TS3, and that’s when I really fell in love. So that’s the first game I bought expansions for.

Not very creatively, the first one I bought for TS3 was the first one that came out, World Adventures. That seems like a controversial one, but I love it. I guess the Game Pack equivalent for TS3 would be functional store content. I honestly don’t remember what I bought first.

Do you pronounce live mode like aLIVE or LIVing

aLIVE. Sims isn’t the only software to have a live mode, and that’s always how I’ve understood it to be pronounced. I didn’t even know people pronounced it like LIVing, but I can see how that would make sense for Sims.

Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made?

I technically haven’t MADE a lot of sims because I’m obsessed with naturally born genetics. I download a lot of sims with interesting faces and load them into my game, then let NRaas StoryProgression pair them off and, using its Advanced Genetics, populate my town with interesting genetic combinations.

Have you made a simself?

Yup! Echo Weaver. Some sim friends over the years have put her in their games too.

Which is your favorite EA hair color?

I am SO SICK of all the TS3 hair presets.

Favorite EA hair?

Another difficult answer. There’s a braided updo that came with one of the expansions that I think looks wonderful on all female sims, but I’d have to look it up. That said, I don’t like repeating hairs in a game very often.

Favorite life stage?

Yeah, adult is where you can do the most stuff. I’m not sure it’s my favorite exactly. I like roleplaying each life stage to build a sim’s personality. My Gen 8 Sample sims are kids, so I’m thinking in kid mode at the moment and really enjoying @olomayasims Void Critters mod. Seems like most of the really fun gameplay for non-YA/Adult comes from mods.

Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay?

I can’t build my way out of a cardboard box. Definitely gameplay. I think this is the wrong question, though, since there are way more options than those two. My answer would probably still be gameplay, but the gameplay wouldn’t be nearly as fun if I weren’t building a story out of it.

Are you a CC creator?

Trick question! I mod, but I don’t art. So it depends on how broadly you mean cc? 😁

Do you have any Simblr friends or a Sim Squad?

Definitely have friends! Back in the WordPress days, I made a private Facebook community and invited a bunch of my Sims-playing pals. That was probably a “squad.” These days, I’m here, and I’m friend with folks who read and comment on each other’s stuff. I probably wouldn’t still be here without those relationships.

Do you have any sims merch?

I don’t think I’ve even seen TS3 merch. LOL.

Do you have a YouTube for sims?

I cannot stand watching other people play video games on YouTube unless it’s a tutorial. My play style would be horrible to watch because I go on random tangents to tweak lots and down population in the middle of gameplay. Yeah, I’ll skip that and keep to telling stories with screenshots.

How has your “Sims style” changed throughout your years of playing?

I have gotten increasingly wish-driven and more focused on “emergent” sim personality.

Only year 13 or 14 of playing this game, I’ve gotten into challenges that are world aesthetic in addition to gameplay, such as the medieval history challenge (Morbid’s Ultimate Decades Challenge). That involves buckets of cc, a medieval-themed custom world, and a bunch of social rules in addition to just day-to-day gameplay. I want to feel like my games are different experiences.

Since I have trouble making my sims deliberately take risks, and I don’t think I could deliberately kill an active sim, I’ve looked for ways to add hardship into the game. I want to keep my sims relatively poor. I want there to be ways in the challenge for them to die. I want to have real life obstacles for my sims to overcome.

What’s your origin id?

It’s either Echowever or Echoweaver. I misspelled it initially and tried to fix it when EA moved the site to its newer account system. I can’t remember how that turned out. I think it’s Echowever in some places and Echoweaver in others. 🤦‍♀️

Who’s your favorite CC creator?

Gah. I started to answer this 3 times.

I love cc creators! I’m afraid to list any for fear of leaving anyone out who I also love. You’re all amazing!

How long have you had simblr?

I looked this up for a different meme, and I created this account in 2013. I haven’t been on it consistently during that time. I also took a 3-year hiatus from the game entirely and came back during the pandemic.

How do you edit your pictures?

For most of my time storytelling with this game, I haven’t edited my pics at all. In the last year or so, I’ve added ReShade with a pretty unobtrustive preset. mostly just to sharpen things up a bit and improve light quality. I’ve started editing dark shots in Photoshop Elements to increase the light or remove photobombing gui elements.

Not much overall though.

What expansion/ gamepack is your favorite?

Oof with the hard questions. Probably Seasons. The weather and holidays add a lot of depth and character to the gameplay.

Mmmmm. Who to tag? I’m not sure who hasn’t done this yet. @withlovefromayre? @pudding-parade?

[ninalanfer]

Let's talk wood, people. No, not the kind you have in your pants, you filthy mind you 😉. The stuff that grows in nature and can be formed into endless shapes and forms.

I have such a love hate relationship with wood. I love how it looks and how it feels, how it catches the light. The different shades and textures it grows before we take it. I love carving into it, the way the knife feels in my hand, the way the blade feels cutting into it. All wood is good wood. It all has a purpose and place.

What I hate is the way it struggles against me when I try to work it into some... Shapes. Like a door. What was it someone said the other day, about creating anything? That the art of creation is "You push on the thing, and the thing pushes back at you." Friction of creation.

Today has been particularly full of friction. Wood have been struggling against me today. Yikes. Today was supposed to be simple. I had already fit the screen door in its place, it fit, it worked. It just needed glue and some screws. Attach the hinges and hang it up there.

...

Don't you think it scewed over night? It definitely did. I went to try it this morning and nope. Not even fucking close to fitting in its hole. I was once again reminded that wood has a life of its own. It breathes and thinks and lives, even after it's been shaped into boards.

So today wasn't simple. It was endless trials. Testing the fit, nope, taking it back down and outside to (I'm googling the word for "hyvel" in english and all I find is "plane". Wtf? You seriously can't have four different things that are called a plane. That's stupid! The machine that flies, the place where you play football (no sorry, "soccer"), the thing that will turn flat by you shaping it with what is apparently also called a plane!? HOW do english wood workers communicate with each other about their craft?!) (I went onto a long rant about this and I'm so sorry for my partner who had to end up in the crossfire)...

Anyway! I had to "plane" the frame so it fit in the door opening. Little by little. Testing, trimming, testing, looking for where it wouldn't fit. Trimming, testing. Ad nauseum. I started with a rasp, going over to an electrical sander, then a saw for a little bit. But in the end I brought out my trusty knife.

In the end, victory was mine! The screen frame now fits. It's wonky and weird, and the surface is bubbly in places (knots are my bane, guuuh). But in turn, our house is an old scewed wood building with literally no even planes in sight, so no one's going to see it (except my dad. He'll look at me and shake his head. 😂 Cuz he is a wood worker by trade and heart. It's one of my life's small pleasures to make scewed shit and see the look on his face.) Sometimes I think the only reason I get through life at all os because I'm so damn stubborn. Today's win is solely, simply, due to me being more stubborn than the wood.

Now we just wait until the humidity turns and we'll cross all our fingers and toes that the screen door still fits...

[invisibleraven]

I really wish it was only me and you

Written for the Year of the OTP challenge prompt:blind date/meet cute

On AO3!

Short and sweet this month, but I thought this was a fun concept and was in the mood to write some more Sweet Tarts, so I hope you enjoy!

“No.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Julie protested, stopping Carrie from shutting the door in her face.

“No, but you have your ‘I need a favour’ face on,” Carrie replied.

“I do not have a favour face!” Julie argued, then deflated. “Okay, so I do. But you don’t know what it is yet!”

“I’m still saying no beforehand,” Carrie said, once again trying to shut the door, and scowled when Julie didn’t move. “You’re not going to let this go are you?”

“Nope!”

Carrie gave a beleaguered sigh and opened the door, letting Julie in and fetched them both water, knowing that Julie was the dog with a bone-she wasn’t letting Carrie turn her down. “Fine. What do you need? Donation to a charity? A dress for your next awards ceremony? The name of my lawyer?”

“We’re not the same size, so no to the dress, and I have my own lawyer,” Julie replied.

“So am I getting my check book?” Carrie asked.

Julie paused, playing with her fingers, eyes avoidant, and immediately Carrie knew this was a personal favour. “Do you need an alibi?”

“What? No!” Julie said and then laughed. “I wanted to set you up on a date!”

“Absolutely not,” Carrie said firmly.

“Carrie it’s been over a year since you and Felipe broke up,” Julie said. “Time to get back on the proverbial horse.”

“The horse and I are better off as acquaintances,” Carrie replied. “The kind you nod at but don’t stop to talk to when you see them.”

It wasn’t that the break up with Felipe had broken her heart or anything, but Carrie was kind of jaded with the whole dating thing. Guys wanted you for your money or your name or your body, not for you. They demanded your attention which she could use to work, both on her songs and herself.

Try explaining that to Julie though, who had been with Luke since they were practically kids, blissfully happy and ready to tie the knot in a few months.

“Carrie,” Julie said, reaching out and laying a hand on her arm. “You’re lonely, no matter what you say. And I want you to find someone who will worship you, make you as happy as Luke has made me.”

“And you think your prospective date might be it?” Carrie asked, sending Julie a judgemental look.

Julie just shrugged. “I think you’d hit it off, but all I’m asking is you give him a chance. One dinner date.”

“Coffee,” Carrie argued.

“Lunch,” Julie counter offered.

“Fiiiiiiiine,” Carrie sighed, ignoring the jubilant look on Julie’s face. She was becoming a soft touch she swears. “But when this fails spectacularly, which it will, I reserve the right to follow you around and repeat I told you so ad nauseum.”

“I look forward to the attention,” Julie preened.

“So do I get to know anything about this guy?”

“His name is Reggie.”

~

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on Reg, it’s one lunch date!” Luke whined.

“Do remember the last date you set me up on?” Reggie asked with a raised eyebrow. “Zelda? Or how about Ashleigh before that? Or Talia before her?”

Luke winced at every name. “Okay so my track record isn’t great, I’ll admit. But this one is all Julie. She thinks you and this Carrie girl will really hit it off.”

Reggie slumped at that. He was unable to deny Julie anything. Luke had introduced them when they had started dating, and Reggie had been fond of her ever since. They hadn’t seen each other much other than video calls since he had been in Georgia looking after MeeMaw, and then settling her estate. So it kind of raised his hackles for one of the first things she did when he was back was to set him up.

“She does know I am perfectly capable of finding my own dates right?” Reggie asked, trying to deflect.

“You know what Julie is like bro, she wants everyone to be happy, and she thinks you’d find happiness with her friend,” Luke said with a shrug. “I just go along with whatever she wants. Happy wife, happy life you know?”

“You guys don’t even need the wedding, you're already so married,” Reggie joked, playfully slugging Luke in the shoulder.

Luke sighed, a dopey expression on his face. “She’s the music of my life Reg.”

“Sap.”

Luke grinned. “So what am I telling Julie about the date?”

Reggie groaned. “Ugh I hate blind dates. I really don’t want to.”

“You gonna tell Julie that?”

Reggie groaned even louder at that. “No because she’ll break out the puppy dog eyes and she knows I’m powerless against those. Tell her one lunch date. And when it blows up-which it will-she’s not allowed to set me up again for at least six months.”

Luke laughed at that. “Bud if you think she’s letting you come to our wedding stag you’re crazy. But I’ll pass the message along.”

Reggie rolled his eyes at that. At least for the wedding he could convince Flynn to go as his date, in a sort of aro-bi solidarity pact.

“So what do you know about this Carrie girl?”

~

Coffee. Carrie needed coffee if she was ever to survive this day. She was really regretting letting Julie set her up. She could be home, in her sweats, enjoying a leisurely morning watching Bake Off reruns and a face mask. But no, she was a good friend, so she was out before noon; in a cute outfit, hair and face done up, and ready for a truly awful date.

Julie is gonna owe her so bad for this.

She was at Jitters, her favourite spot, ready to order the biggest, strongest drink she could, loaded with sugar to help her through. She might even get a pastry, just as a treat. Heaven knows she wasn’t sitting through dessert as well as lunch.

“And a cinnamon roll too please,” Carrie said, hearing the exact same phrase from the register next to her, a very cute guy placing an order.

“Oh I’m sorry we only have one roll left,” the barista said apologetically to Carrie.

The guy turned to her, sending her a crooked smile. “I suppose as a gentleman I could share the roll.”

Carrie snorted. “A real gentleman would offer to give me the whole thing.”

“Pity it’s such a good roll,” he replied. “What’s your next favourite? I’ll buy that for us to split too if you let me have half the roll.”

“Well how can I reject an offer like that?” Carrie replied, paying for her order with a healthy tip, standing off to the side to wait for her drink. Blushing a little as the guy stood next to her, close enough to see the springtime green of his eyes, the rosy pink of his blush, the golden constellation of freckles across his nose and cheeks. “So do I get to know the name of my saviour?”

“I can give it to you with my number if you want, or maybe even treat you to something more substantial than pastry?” he offered, waggling his eyebrows and giving her another cheeky grin.

Carrie’s shoulders sagged at that. “If you had asked me on any other day I’d be saying let’s go. Enjoy the pastry on a blanket in the park or something. But I have a lunchtime date, one I can’t cancel. Otherwise I would.”

“Seems we’re in similar boats,” the guy said, a look of disappointment crossing over his face. “Meddling friends?”

“The worst kind,” Carrie admitted. “So you’d give up your chance with this mystery girl for one with me?”

He leaned in closer, so close Carrie could smell the leather of his jacket, his woodsy aftershave, the fresh scent of his fabric softener. Clean and like summer, a welcome change from her usual; guys who wore enough Axe to drown a man and always affected her allergies. She wishes she could wallow in him rather than go on some date with a guy who could reek of whatever noxious scent they thought appropriate. Sure she knew Julie would never set her up with a guy who didn’t bathe or anything, but still…

“For you doll? In a heartbeat.”

Carrie giggled. “You don’t even know me.”

He smirked once more. “But I’d like to. So can I give you my number anyways? So if this guy turns out to be a dud you can call me?”

“You’re hoping my date will be a failure?” Carrie asked, arching her eyebrow.

“Aren’t you?” he replied. “I know there’s no way the girl I’m supposed to see could ever measure up to how enchanted I am by you.”

“One part of me is wishing you were more of a jerk so you’d stand her up and take me out instead,” Carrie said. “But most of me is glad you’re living up to your title as gentleman because I could never date a guy who ghosted me.”

He snapped his fingers in an ‘oh darn’ gesture and glanced at his watch. “I unfortunately have to go. So, what do you say to getting my number?”

Carrie was so so tempted, but it almost felt disloyal to take him up on his offer when she had Reggie waiting on her. “How about we leave it up to fate? If our dates are bad we meet up for ice cream at Scoops Ahoy down on the boardwalk at five?”

“And if our dates go well?” he asked.

“Then it was never meant to be,” she replied, leaning in and gave him a lightning fast kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I hope it is though.”

“Me too,” he replied, and dashing off, with Carrie watching him go. Sighing and shaking herself before hearing her name called, and looked to the counter. He had left her both treats, and she grinned, wondering if they would keep until five.

“Can you tell me his name?” she asked, sipping on her coffee, relishing the rush of the caffeine.

“He said it was Elton?’ the barista replied. “But we get a lot of fake names here, so take that with a grain of salt.”

She nodded-she had given a fake name a time or two, but it didn’t help her solve her mystery. She glanced at her watch-well she had a little over six hours to wait-she really hoped she would find out then.

~

Reggie cursed himself as he walked away from the coffee shop. Gosh that girl was gorgeous! And the confident aura surrounding her drew Reggie in like flies to honey. He had been a bit disheartened when she turned him down, but then she had given him hope with her proposed later meeting. A meeting he sure as hell would be going to, because there was no way this Carrie chick could measure up to the goddess he had just left behind.

He hoped she liked the treats-even if now he was wishing he had stayed to collect half the cookie, aching for a bit of a sugar rush after the way her kiss had amped him up for something sweet. But of course he had to get to his appointment on time- Dr. Butler didn’t like to be kept waiting.

Plus she had managed to squeeze him in for a last minute session today, so there was no way he could cancel. Plus, even though she was his therapist, Pepper was also a friend who would definitely give him some advice regarding the whole date situation he found himself in.

“You’re late,” Pepper said, barely looking over her glasses as he sat on her ridiculously comfortable chaise.

“Only by like, a minute Pep, come on.”

“Did you bring me a pastry?” she asked, handing him a water bottle, knowing Reggie was no fan of coffee but usually stopped by Jitters before their sessions for a treat, and brought her one as well.

“I forgot,” he said, avoiding her eyes.

“That is your lying face,” Pepper said with a hum. “What’s her name?”

“I didn’t get it?” he said sheepishly.

“Well I suppose you had better tell me about that before your date,” Pepper said, sitting back and taking out her notebook.

Later, Reggie had a bit more of a bounce to his step as he headed to the pop up Filipino restaurant Carrie wanted to meet at. Julie had mentioned her dad was part Filipino, and this chef was an excellent one. He had checked out the menu and there were a couple options he’d like to try. So even if the date was awful, hopefully the food would be good.

He decided against flowers-too ambitious for a lunch date. But he did grab a single hot pink gerber daisy from a bodega on the way-he’d get a bigger bunch if he ended up going for ice cream with his mystery girl later. She deserved the effort at least. ‘

Reggie got there a few minutes early-and debated waiting outside, but since he had no clue what Carrie looked like-Luke and Julie thought the true blind date experience would be fun-she could walk right past him and he’d never know. He walked inside and asked the hostess for the table under Peters.

“Your companion is already here,” the hostess replied. “Right this way.”

Reggie nodded, clutching the stem of the daisy tighter, wondering yet again what he had gotten himself into. He just had to remember it was only lunch, and then he had the afternoon to while away before heading to the ice cream place and hoped he saw a familiar head of honey coloured hair and enchanting brown eyes there.

Only that same hair and eyes were sitting at a table, all by herself right in front of him. The table he was being guided to, and he swore the smile broke his face it was so wide. “Carrie?”

She looked up at him and beamed. “Reggie…oh I get the Elton thing now,” she said with a giggle.

He grinned as he sat down across from her. “Yeah, my mom was a big fan, but my dad hated the name, so they went with Reginald.”

“I’m named for Carrie Fisher.”

“Badass.” They fist bumped at that. “Please tell me you don’t like the prequels though.”

“Ugh no!” Carrie replied. “Original trilogy or bust!”

“Marry me.” Reggie joked, handing over the flower and bit the inside of his cheek as she smelled it, the colour of it reflecting on her face.

“Let’s start with lunch,” Carrie stated primly. “And then we can see.”

“Anything you recommend?”

In the end, they ended up sharing Reggie’s pork belly tacos and Carrie’s lumpia, plus taking sneaky bites from the pasty Carrie had smuggled in her purse. Talking and laughing the whole time. Playfully arguing over who footed the bill, with Carrie winning.

“You bought dessert, and ice cream is your treat, so it’s only fair,” she stated.

“We’re still getting ice cream?” Reggie asked. “I thought that was only if the date was a bust?”

“I changed my mind,” Carrie said with a shrug. “Plus we can walk there, keep getting to know each other. But if you like mint chocolate chip we really are done.”

“I’m more of a strawberry guy myself,” Reggie admitted.

Carrie smiled even wider at that. “What do you know? So am I.”

The ice cream was sweet and satisfying, but not as much as the wealth of kisses they exchanged to end their night several hours later. And they both agreed they would reluctantly have to thank Luke and Julie for setting them up. But they would never be allowed to do so again.

Nor was there ever any need, which Julie and Luke crowed about in their joint Maid of Honour/Best Man speech at Carrie and Reggie’s wedding a few years later.

Carrie shook her head and sighed, but nothing could erase the smile on her face-especially when her brand new husband fed her dessert-cinnamon rolls instead of wedding cake, with ice cream on the side.

[abyssalzones]

favorite deep sea creature?

sorry this one took so long to answer. it's also very long. but I feel like you knew what you were getting into when you asked tumblr user "abyssalzones" what his favorite deep sea creature is.

now immediately my mind jumped to coelacanths because they're among my favorite fish Ever for a multitude of reasons, such as (but not limited to):

-their mystique (their fossilized ancestors were initially discovered in the 19th century, and due to their illusive nature were thought to have gone extinct at the end of the Cretaceous period until one was found alive by an unknown(?) fisherman off the coast of South Africa, and from there the discovery was accredited to museum curator Marjorie Courtenay-Latimar who spotted it in the day's catch. however it's worth mentioning fishermen in the eastern South African region may have known about the species before then. kind of a 'who can say if it wasn't written down' situation.)

-their beautiful blueness (others have waxed poetic about their appearance more skillfully than I, but just look at this guy. wow. albeit I have to wonder if how blue they appear is very dependent on lighting but whatever he's beautiful)

-and, finally, their importance as lobe-finned fish! (the two extant species of Coelacanth today- alongside lungfish, who are also incredibly cool- hold a unique position in taxonomy and evolutionary history as the only living non-tetrapod sarcopterygians that we know of ^_^ they used to be much more dominant as freshwater predators, but then the great dying came along and they suffered a significant decline. so, essentially, these guys are survivors! ...if you felt it necessary to frame it as such. and "sarcopterygian" more specifically describes them as belonging to the clade 'Sarcopterygii', which classifies them as lobe-finned bony fish. this contrasts the other clade of bony fish, Actinopterygii, which describes ray-finned bony fish. in essence, they are the great-great-great-great-ad-nauseum-grandparents of all tetrapods! very very important animals from a grander biological perspective.)

...however, after typing all of this out, I realize this is a little bit of a cop-out. Coelacanths, as cool as they are, are actually not the deepest of deep-sea fish. It's difficult to get the exact numbers on their whereabouts as, previously stated, they're pretty elusive guys, but generally during the daytime they're found about 100-500 meters deep, resting in caves and saving their energy for nocturnal reef-feeding. apparently they've been found to migrate deeper as well, but it still feels a little disingenuous (to me) to say that they're truly deep-sea animals.

...so if I want to live up to my username, I need to take you on a journey. to the abyssal zone. where you will find some truly terrifying, near-alien creatures, straight from the pits of Dante Alighieri's visions of hell, or Hieronymus Bosch's bizarre garden of earthly delights...!

no, not that guy! get him out of here. shoo.

Instead we're going to be talking about his big brother. his... very, very big brother.

okay so chances are you've seen this photo before, it circulates quite a bit online as "BIG FUCKING SCARY THING IN THE OCEAN" and it's pretty apparent why, but I'm incredibly fond of "Scary fucking thing in the ocean" in general, and as such I think this guy is delightful. I debated on picking a couple of different, lesser-known species from the abyssal-hadal range (such as various arctic amphipods), but if I'm honest I have a soft spot for cephalopods. typical, typical I know, I should be ashamed, but in this case I can safely say the Bigfin squid (genus Magnapinna) is anything but "typical".

oh, sure, there's a level of wonder healthily exacerbated by the rarity of sightings- but that's all we have! sightings and footage! well, that and washed-up corpses dating back to 1883, all being damaged juveniles that were never properly collected. even so, their significance and oddity isn't really made apparent until you see their adult form, which first came to science's attention properly in 2001 when some very grainy footage was captured by an oil drilling ship, the Milennium Explorer, in the gulf of Mexico.

he's shy.

I say "first came to science's attention" because the Bigfin had actually been recorded prior, all the way back to 1998, but no one had really gotten up out of their chair and started dancing around at the realization of holy shit, what is this thing? and from there further work was done on properly identifying and analyzing the species based on footage.

however... it's still just footage. there has not yet been a captured live specimen, nor a well-preserved cadaver, or... really anything to tell us more about this mysterious cephalopod, other than what we can tell visually and geographically. we know it sure looks distinctive compared to various species of squid (check out the elbows on that thing), we know the largest adult specimens seem to be about 25 feet long (with estimates going up to 40 feet), and we know it might be the deepest-occurring genus of squid (we've had sightings as deep as 6,212 meters below the surface- well into the hadal zone, actually, not just the abyssopelagic), but in terms of behavior? breeding? feeding habits?? there are a lot of unanswered questions. and that's not to discredit any legitimate scientific analysis, past or present, of the bigfin, but moreso to stress that it's a very mysterious creature we don't have much data on.

I think just in general, my favorite deep-sea creatures (and this extends to just about any species, sea-dwelling or otherwise) are those that do a very thorough job of not being found. I am driven by a deep curiosity into whatever is so weird and leads such an unimaginable life to us humans that it eludes the microscope or the scalpel time and time again.

oh, and bigfin squids kind of remind me of the alien controllers that fly around your head during the xen levels in half-life. so there's that as well.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

the inviolable truth

two-part vidow hurt/comfort/angst extravaganza fic is complete! read it on ao3 or under the cut:

Shadow doesn’t want to admit it, but something is wrong. 

Not with him, for once—actually, he’s doing great—but with Vio. Stupid, confusing Vio, who brought Shadow back to life and defied the Goddesses themselves to preserve his corporeal form. Vio, who’s been living in the same cottage as Shadow for months on the edges of Hyrule Castle Town, close enough to his colorful counterparts to perform his heroic duties but far enough to blow them off. 

It had been, quite literally, a rude awakening. Shadow was nothing, just floating in the endless void—and then he was something again, staring up at Vio’s pale tear-stained face. His entire body shook as blood dripped from his hands (whose blood, Shadow still isn’t sure) and appeared to be kneeling in some kind of homemade summoning circle. The floor beneath Shadow was cold, because it wasn’t the floor at all—it was the very same dark mirror that he had once destroyed, somehow repaired. 

Vio said he was sorry, but couldn’t elaborate what for. He told Shadow he could stay with him and Shadow could barely even speak. So he followed Vio home like a lost dog, and hasn’t found a good enough reason to move out since. 

They have separate rooms, of course, but a cozy little den and eat-in kitchen, where Shadow is still in the process of learning how to cook. In his previous forms he never needed food or drinks, only consuming them for the vibes—now, not so much. It’s humbling to try different kinds of food, which Vio explains ad nauseum (if Shadow hears the ‘fun fact’ that tomatoes are actually fruits one more time…) as he samples each. 

Honestly, the more Shadow learns about agriculture and sustainability, the guiltier he is about destroying all those homesteads during his villain era. The more he learns about the light world in general, the guiltier he feels for almost ending it. He initially took to calling his time of evil servitude his ‘villain era’ as an attempt at ironic detachment, but it’s getting easier every day to take real accountability. Shadow doesn’t enjoy spending excessive time with the public, but working in the community garden brings him genuine joy. And it helps to feed the people of Castle Town as the surrounding farms rebuild. To think that Shadow once planned to destroy them as well, it’s… a place he tries not to let his brain go excessively. 

Vio’s internal life, by comparison, seems less peaceful these days. It’s something Shadow started picking up on a week or two ago and it hasn’t improved since. Of course it’s reasonable for Vio, or anyone, to have times of unhappiness, but it’s hard for Shadow to live in the same house as the guy and turn a blind eye. Especially not when he cares very much for his friend, which is all Vio is. All he’s ever been. Months into their arrangement, and Shadow can’t justify believing anything else. 

But, still. Friends can still care about each other. They can challenge each other. So despite his hesitation, Shadow does what he’s wanted to do for weeks. He starts the kettle for tea, which they’ve taken to drinking in order to preserve their remaining supply of stolen evil root beer, and enters the den where Vio sits and reads. In this moment he could be mistaken as peaceful, staring at the leather-bound volume as the fireplace crackles beside him. But Shadow knows better. 

“Hey,” he says. “What’s going on?” 

Vio looks up and raises an eyebrow, as if he knew the question was going to come up eventually. “Why do you think something’s going?” 

“You’re not turning pages.” 

Vio rolls his eyes. “You’ve only been standing there for a minute.” 

“So you did notice.”

The blonde sighs, putting down the book and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m fine. It’s really nothing. You don’t need to worry about it.” 

“Pretty sure if it was nothing, you’d be over it by now.” 

“You don’t know me that well, Shadow.” 

Well, goddamn. 

Vio groans and puts his head in his hands. “Hylia, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” 

Shadow puts his hands on his hips. “You definitely sound like someone who’s totally fine.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Ooooookay, well, I’m not going to force you. Guess I’ll go hang out with Zelda or something.” 

Vio looks up as Shadow moves to leave, grimacing. “Don’t go. I’ll tell you.” 

Shadow grins. “Knew I’d break you down eventually. Tea’s on the kettle, be right back.” 

“Oh. Thanks. Just… hurry back, okay?” 

Shadow nods, amused by the sudden change of attitude. This boy has layers. “Spill tea everywhere and break the mugs, got it.” 

Vio shakes his heads as Shadow retreats to the kitchen, but it’s with the slightest smile. 

━━

Shadow likes making tea—feeling warmth through the sides of the mug, funneling fragrant dried leaves into the infuser, and watching as the water slowly bleeds a robust amber. It’s a multi-sensory experience he wouldn’t have been able to enjoy in his previous form, at least not in the way he does now. He forgets, sometimes, that his resurrection wasn’t merely a restoration of his original dark state, but a transformation to Hylian normalcy. 

He misses his magic, often, but it’s not like he was going to ever use it in the void. Shadow still isn’t sure what he wanted, or expected, to happen after he shattered the dark mirror. Good things, for the others, who were so unlike him in merit and identity. Bad things, to Ganon, who used him as a pawn and convinced him he could only live in the dark. How ironic it was, then, that Shadow ended up there regardless. If Vio hadn’t brought him back, he’d still be there today. 

But he’s not. He’s here, with Vio, and Zelda, and the others. And tea. 

He carries both mugs into the den, where Vio doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s reading. 

“Back,” Shadow greets him, trying to keep things somewhat light. “Guess which one I poisoned?” 

“You wouldn’t serve me poison.” 

“Fair enough,” Shadow says, passing Vio a mug and sitting down at a respectful distance (not that either of them seemed to care about personal space when The Throne was involved. Hylia, Shadow misses that thing).  “I’m sensing that humor isn’t helpful right now. Talk to me.” 

Vio takes a sip of his tea and gives Shadow a smile. “You’re really good at this. Thank you.” 

“I am, but flattery’s not getting you out of this conversation.”

“It’s just… I’ve been thinking about what we did. What we didn’t do. What that means.”

Shadow blinks. “Okay.” 

Vio grows more agitated—not at Shadow, but seemingly at himself. “I know the others are doing great, and don’t get me wrong, I’m really happy, too. It’s just… are we meant to be this way? Separate? I’m just one piece of a whole person. I’m fundamentally incomplete, by definition. And, by not going back, we basically killed the original Hero. He doesn’t exist anymore. Everyone who loved him, lost him. We were selfish.” 

“Why are you thinking about this now? Months later?” 

Vio rubs the back of his neck, his hair currently tied up in a purple scrunchie. Shadow thinks it’s adorable, but this is not the time for… all of that. “Green told me that he visited the Hero’s father again,” Vio blurts, and Shadow knows immediately this is what’s been on the tip of his tongue for weeks. “He sees nothing wrong with it, but isn’t he just rubbing salt in the wound? Reminding him of the son who no longer exists?”

“Did Green say that the Hero’s father was upset?”

Vio shakes his head, his voice ragged. “No. He likes spending time with him, and the others. But I just can’t wrap my head around going myself. I feel like when they do it, it’s out of kindness, because they’re all the good parts of the Hero. But if I went, it would just feel manipulative. It would be to ease my own guilt. And that’s what I mean about being incomplete—I am, at my core, the sum of the Hero’s least heroic attributes. My very existence is a paradox, and given the opportunity to resolve that paradox, I chose along with the others to do the opposite.” 

“Do you regret it, then?” Shadow asks, his fingers tightening around his mug. “Do you regret staying?” 

Vio considers it like a scientific question. “I think that re-forming the Hero was, ethically, the correct thing to do… and certainly the most heroic. But we didn’t. And I know, I just know, that if I hadn’t raised an alternative plan, the others would have been perfectly happy to go ahead. I’m the one who voiced my doubt, gave them the idea to stay; it’s almost like I manipulated them into the decision. Because that’s me, the manipulative one! The worst of the hero’s parts, convincing the best of him to be unfathomably selfish.”

“So if you could change it, right now, you would. You’d leave.”

“Being here instead of the hero, it hurts so many people. And what kind of replacement am I, given all of the good he did for the world? All the literature indicates that I’m fundamentally not meant to be an entire person for a prolonged amount of time. My existence was meant to be temporary. And my actions have demonstrated time and time again that I’m not a consistently good person at all. Sure, I wasn’t ever going to serve Vaati or Ganon, but when I met you, when we started, uh, working together, I had fun. And I wanted to know more. About the Dark World, the mirror, all of it. I never lost sight of doing the right thing, like I said, y’know, when you were about to execute me—”

“Yeah, I was there.” 

“—and that was the truth, really! Well, kind of. If I’m being honest, it’s just… a little more complicated than that. The others wouldn’t understand. There was good and evil, but there was also… just, another thing. Made it messy. Still can’t quite put my finger on what.” 

“Ah.” 

“So I just have been thinking, a lot, and I keep circling back to the inviolable truth that what we did was the wrong choice. And it’s all my fault.” 

Shadow grits his teeth and places his mug on the coffee table. “Then why did you have the idea in the first place,” he asks Vio, his voice colder than intended. “Why did you voice the idea in the first place.”

“I had the idea because it seemed wrong to create four people from one, and then force them into nonexistence. Just as wrong as it was to rob Hyrule of its hero through our creation in the first place.”

“That’s all?”

Vio cocks his head. It’s not cute right now. “You sound hurt. You know it wouldn’t have affected you either way. You weren’t a part of him prior to the split. You came from another world. And if we had reformed, you would still have lived on as the Hero’s shadow. We’d just be… gone.”

“Well thank you for considering me.”

Vio scowls and places down his own mug, forcefully displacing some of its contents. “What’s your problem? You asked me to talk, and now you’re mad?” 

“Because, Vio, you made this choice months ago, we’ve been basically living together since, and I guess I wrongly assumed that even a miniscule aspect of your decision to stay might have had something to do with… you know what, never mind. I’m not saying it.” 

Shadow stands up and stares into the fire, refusing to meet Vio’s gaze.

“Saying what?”

“Don’t make me feel like more of an idiot than I already do,” Shadow says, mortified by the blush spreading on his cheeks. “Not again.”

Vio flounders. “I…” 

“I gotta take a walk,” Shadow says, already halfway to the cottage’s front door when he feels Vio’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Shadow, stop, you don’t—”

Shadow shrugs him off. “I am telling you, I need to take a walk. Please give me some space before I say something I’ll regret.” 

He can’t see Vio’s stupid face but he can guess what it looks like. Hurt, confused, like a kicked puppy. “You… okay. I’m sorry. Go ahead. Thanks for making the tea. And for not, uh, poisoning it.”

Shadow doesn’t laugh. And then he’s gone. 

━━

Vio wants to convince himself that there’s a monster in the cellar. He can take a monster any day of the week, and actually, they’re pretty common in these woods. No wonder the cottage’s former owners abandoned it.

What truly terrifies Vio is the other, much more likely possibility: that it’s Shadow down there, waiting for their inevitable confrontation. He’s been puzzling over their argument for hours, feeling so stupid for someone who claims to be smart. He wasn’t lying, for a second, but he knows he must have gone too far, ignored some conversational landmine and pushed Shadow too far. He wishes Red was here, or Zelda. Anyone with an ounce of emotional intelligence compared to his obvious deficit, honestly. 

The sun has gone down. Their tea has gone cold. There is no monster in the cellar.

But still, Vio has to try. 

━━

The cellar is dark, damp, and used primarily to store barrels of evil root beer. Vio isn’t surprised that Shadow hasn’t touched them. He’s been really into tea lately, and seems to have a strong sense of sentimentality towards their stockpile. Vio feels that way too, of course, but it’s easier pointing out these patterns when someone like Shadow demonstrates them. Much can be said to criticize the way Shadow has historically managed his emotions, but there is something admirable about a person so boldly wearing his heart on his sleeve. Maybe it’s even more noticeable to Vio, who has trouble admitting even the simplest internal truths, like the fact that he’s not a fan of green tea or that he doesn’t like the color yellow or that he might probably definitely absolutely have non-platonic feelings for Shadow. 

No, Shadow’s exactly where Vio knew he would be: standing in front of that damn mirror.

“Why did you bring me back?” Shadow asks, his eyes on Vio’s approaching reflection. 

“What do you mean?” 

Shadow turns his head now, eyes drilling into Vio like he wants to see him in pieces—not out of anger, profound, aching confusion. Vio… can understand that. 

“You chose to stay separate from the others, meaning I wouldn’t have the Hero to attach myself to. I was just… floating, in the abyss. Until I wasn’t. What in the world possessed you to repair this thing, especially since it poses such a threat to Hyrule? Why—why did the others allow you to repair it?”

“I already told you why,” Vio says, and it almost sounds like a plea. “They wanted to give you the chance to be a person too. A whole one, like we got to be. It was only fair.” 

“No. They pitied me.”

“They welcomed you. They like you. They might not understand you, but they harbor no ill will towards you. Well, maybe Blue does, but he would harbor ill will towards a garden gnome.”

“Stop being clever, I’m upset with you.” 

Vio sighs, his posture wilting. He feels small. “Can you give me a hint? I know I’m smart, but I’m having trouble here.” 

Shadow scowls, hand going to his hair. “I’m not trying to confuse you. I want to listen and be a good friend. But I’d be lying if I said this doesn’t hurt. The fact that, if given the option, you’d undo the decision that got us where we are now.”

“Like I said, it wouldn’t have hurt you either way—”

“But that’s what you’re not getting!” Shadow exclaims, balling up both fists at his sides. Vio takes a few steps back, not afraid for his safety but nervous nonetheless. 

“I ended my life so you and the others could save the world and yourselves. But I also knew, the way things were going, that it was my own best possible option. I mean, in a way, I would have still ended up with… never mind.” 

Vio’s scowling now, too, because none of this makes sense in the way it should. “So you agree? I shouldn’t have voiced my idea, or repaired the mirror to bring you back?” 

“No, idiot! I’m saying that—I can’t believe you’re making me say this—I treasure every single stupid day I get to spend with you, Vio. Not like I would with the Hero, not how I do with the others. You. I like you. I’d fight Vaati, Ganon, Hylia herself, just to be with you. I’d put up with living in the Hero’s shadow just to feel any hint of you that’s left behind. And maybe it’s stupid, and I’ve made this exact mistake before, but after everything happened I thought that maybe… maybe you felt the same way. Maybe I was one of your reasons to stick around. You did bring me back, after all. And we’ve been doing… this… for months now. And I’m happy! Like really happy! The happiest I’ve ever been, which isn’t a high bar to clear, but still!”

“Shadow, hey—” 

“But at the same time, I don’t fully trust you, and we’ve hurt each other so much, and none of this should be working as well as it does. But you don’t seem to want to leave, you don’t seem to be here out of pity, and fuck, Vio, it makes me crazy trying to figure out what’s going on in your head!”

Shadow breathes heavily, his chest visibly rising and falling. Vio wants to reach out, hold him, admit every single secret hope he’s been so determined to ignore for so long… but he can’t. It’s too late.

“I did it again.” Vio says, his voice thin.

“Did what?” 

“Let you down. I… I appear to be very adept at that.” 

Shadow rolls his eyes, and it’s not because he’s endeared. “Stop it with the fancy words, there’s no one here you have to impress.” 

“Shadow. I care what you think. I care about you, of course I do! I didn’t even think that was a question!”

“Really?” Shadow shakes his head. “Because the last time I said something stupid about trusting you, that you were my first and only friend, you betrayed me like it meant nothing.”

Vio must look so stupid, the way he just stands there and lets the words sting. Slowly, he speaks, unsure of each word as it passes his lips. “What I did was for the good of the entire world. I didn’t want to hurt you, but if I hadn’t turned on you when I did, we wouldn’t be where we are now. I’d be dead, or worse. You’d be the servant to some evil god. We both know it’s better this way.” 

“I do know that,” Shadow says, tears in his eyes. “You’re the one who’s saying he’d un-make a pivotal choice that got us here. I would choose to be betrayed by you over and over again if it meant we’d eventually end up together.”

“If I recall correctly, you seemed pretty excited by the aspect of world domination, and you said yourself that you only saw me as a pawn.”

“For like five seconds! Vio, I’m not subtle about anything. Never have been, never will be. By that night we had drinks and talked on the balcony, I was just excited that I was standing there with you. So excited that I ignored the obvious red flags leading to your betrayal. I was stupid. I’m being stupid again now, admitting all that.” 

Shadow steps towards the barrels of evil root beer but Vio stands in his way. “Stop saying you’re stupid. I’m just an asshole.” 

“For fuck’s sake, Vio, don’t weaponize this against yourself. Neither of us are upstanding citizens, but at least we’re trying. You can’t try if you don’t exist. We can talk more in the morning, or not. Good night.” 

So he was heading for the stairs. Vio sheepishly lets him go by. 

“We just… should not have conversations around this mirror, huh,” he says, turning to face his own reflection.

“Whatever. Good night.” 

Vio hears footsteps, a door close, and then… silence. 

Maybe there is a monster in the cellar, after all. 

━━

There is blood on Vio’s hands. 

He recalls a previous instance of blood on his hands—not much, but enough to prove to the others that he was real, that his betrayal had been truly his own. A punishment for his deception, even though his intention was never to become a true creature of the darkness. 

In every ethical conundrum, Vio has learned, one must consider the practical and the interpersonal. Practically, Vio hadn’t deserved the minor wound, but interpersonally… well, it was fair enough for what he had put the others through. 

Tonight the mirror bleeds—but, by Hylia, Vio still feels it. 

He kneels, the image of reverence, in the center of a chalk-drawn circle. The cellar is quiet as death, and if he closes his eyes and inhales the sickly air he can easily imagine himself buried alive. For everything he’s done, that may be justice—but not just yet. Not when there’s a chance, however small, that this ritual could work. 

After weeks of research and very little sleep, he’s managed to intuit the correct sequence of dark runes to spell victory. The strange language glows on the ground, illuminating the arc surrounding him. He glances down at his journal, spotted with ink and stained by tea, and scrutinizes the instructions he’s left for himself. Then he looks at the mirror—not the mirror, but a mirror all the same—and gasps at the sight of his own reflection.  

He looks haunted, there’s no better word for it than that. His pale face, disheveled hair, and dark under-eye circles… and, of course, the blood on his hands. Not red, like his own, but jet-black, oozing from the corners of the ornate mirror Vio had taken from Hyrule Castle. 

He still can’t believe Zelda and the others are allowing him to attempt this, especially since he’d never meant for them to find out. Unfortunately Zelda is more observant than Vio gave her credit for, noticing the mirror’s absence immediately, and put the pieces together from there. But still, even after a confrontation, she and others told Vio they wouldn’t stop him. He still doesn’t know why, but suspects it was out of pity.

To be fair, Vio is pitiful. What he did… what he didn’t do… it’s a weight he can’t bear. Maybe if Vio had considered the guilt he’d feel for the rest of his life, he would have happily reformed the Hero. At least then he wouldn’t have to carry it alone. 

But that’s wrong, too. The others aren’t responsible for what happened. He knows damn well he made the decisions leading him here alone. 

The practical, and the interpersonal—those are what haunt him. He would have never guessed a heart could ache the way his does almost every minute. He can’t even explain why, besides abstract concepts of right and wrong and guilt and grief, rotating in his head until he’s dizzy from it. 

Vio doesn’t deserve to be here if he can’t undo this mistake. Maintaining the split, condemning the Hero to the memories of those who loved him, is an act of liberation for Red, Green, and Blue. Vio does truly believe that. 

But for him… it’s penance. From the second the idea struck him, that’s all it’s been. His work will not be done until he makes this right. Maybe afterwards, he’ll finally be able to embrace the life he’s forged for himself. Maybe he’ll move from this abandoned cottage into the castle, or even just Castle Town. Maybe he’ll make more friends. Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

Maybe not. 

Vio pictures the life awaiting him and recognizes it for what it is: empty. He hasn’t formed strong bonds, found places of belonging, or even left the house very often since the split. He… feels incomplete. Which makes a world of sense, given the very way Vio came to be. 

He knows he’s stalling. The ritual is working and he has no time to waste. With one last glance into the bleeding mirror, he raises the ceremonial ocarina from its velvet pillow and brings it to his lips. He’s written the command in a simple notation, easy enough for a child to use. The Song of Healing, it’s called, left behind by ancient Heroes who traveled through time, transformed into wild beasts, and saved the world from certain doom. True Heroes—how ashamed they’d be, learning how Vio uses their arcane secrets now. 

The void bleeds from the mirror’s edges, seeping into its frame. Vio plays the song with shaky breath, breaking into a cold sweat as the notes carry through the cellar. Once finished, he replaces the ocarina and slams both hands onto the glass, feeling it rumble beneath him. 

Please, Hylia, he begs the same Goddess he betrayed only weeks ago. I’m sorry I took your Hero. But please, you can’t punish someone else for my misdeeds. 

Tears fall from his closed eyes, landing on the glass as it quakes. This isn’t part of the ritual but feels important all the same. 

He knows what will happen next—the mirror will crack, allowing darkness to bleed through every jagged crevice into the world of the light. It’s not much of a gateway compared to the original, but wide enough for a single wandering soul to pass through. 

Please.

He sits there for what feels like hours, eyes shut tight as he waits for the glass to shatter beneath his hands. But it doesn’t, and eventually it ceases to pulse at all. 

Vio knows that he has failed. He knows the runes have gone dark, that the inky blood has dried on his fingertips, and that the Goddess has refused his desperate plea. The Hero is gone for nothing, or at least for one-fourth of it, and Vio’s life will forever be empty and haunted. 

“No,” Vio whimpers, and it’s the most pathetic thing he’s ever heard. “Please, no.” 

And every emotion is crushing, but the worst is the least expected: loss. Sinking, devastating loss. Like part of his heart has been removed, but not enough to stop it completely—he is afforded no small mercy by the onslaught.

Shadow is really gone. 

And it’s all Vio’s fault. 

He lowers his head and opens his eyes. In the inky darkness of the mirror, he can make out a form vaguely like his own… but as the tears clear from his eyes, Vio knows that some magic must still be in the air. Hylia herself taunts him from the heavens, denying him even the dignity of his own reflection. 

Vio stares into the mirror, but the left-handed Hero stares back. 

And then he wakes up. 

━━

“Shadow.” 

It’s the first thing to leave Vio’s lips as he wakes, already slamming his bare feet onto the wooden floor. His own frantic breaths echo through head as he runs down the hall, glancing into Shadow’s room as he had done so many months before. Unlike last time, however, Shadow is gone. 

Shadow is gone. 

“Nonononononono,” Vio mutters to himself as he holds his head in his hands. The ritual had worked, he remembers it so clearly! Their life together, in their cottage, is real! Hylia showed him mercy! 

He sees a few of Shadow’s possessions on the nightstand, but this provides the opposite of relief. If everything is real but Shadow’s still gone, it’s because of their argument yesterday—in other words, where Vio succeeded with the ancient and arcane, he failed terrifically with the interpersonal. Again.

Or maybe he’s been living in a state of delusion this whole time, maybe the ritual really had failed. Maybe Shadow got caught off-guard by a monster after their argument, maybe he’s gone straight to a Castle Town real estate agent, maybe Vio died months ago and he’s been imagining everything since. Maybe he’s just a part of the Hero now, maybe the four reconverged in the end, and this reality is just a shred of Vio’s consciousness clinging to strange inexplicable dreams of what could have been if he had only given Shadow the chance to redeem himself. If he had only been honest about the way he felt. If every time he’d wanted to take Shadow into his arms and hold him tight and never let go, he’d gotten over his own bullshit and just. fucking. gone for it, because maybe, maybe, maybe that’s what Vio has always wanted, behind his absurd mask of intellectual objectivity, and it’s not the sum of his desires for life but it’s Shadow and it’s home and life without him would be achingly incomplete.

But it doesn’t matter. None of this matters, because Shadow is gone. Shadow is gone, and once again, it’s all Vio’s fault. 

And there’s something going on in the kitchen. 

Through the doorway Vio can see him, leaning over the counter as he waits for the kettle to whistle. He hums a song and Vio knows exactly which one. After all, hadn’t he just played it? 

“Seems like neither of us can sleep,” Shadow says without turning his head. “Want some tea?” 

Vio’s mouth is drier than the desert and he just now realizes how faint he feels. Shadow is there immediately as his body slackens, holding him in his arms. 

“Vio, you look terrible,” Shadow remarks with genuine concern, holding a warm hand to the blonde’s forehead. For once Vio is running colder, and he would quip about it if he wasn’t on the verge of a complete mental breakdown. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“Are you real?” Vio hears himself ask, like an idiot. 

“Last time I checked, sure.” 

“Are you mad at me?” 

Shadow sighs. “Yeah, a little, or at least I was earlier. But that doesn’t mean I’d just, like, disappear. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” 

“Don’t ever let me get rid of you,” Vio says, reaching up to cup Shadow’s face. “Never again.” 

Shadow blinks, his expression unreadable. “Vio, I...” 

“Never,” Vio repeats, gripping Shadow tighter. At least he’s getting his strength back.

“You’re acting super weird. You know you’re acting super weird, right?”

It stings, but he’s not wrong. Vio never expresses himself like this, so pathetic and unrestrained. He can’t blame Shadow for being uncomfortable, for pulling away—

“I think it’s good,” Shadow continues, brushing Vio’s hair off his sweaty forehead. He bonks  Vio’s head with his own, and it’s closer than they usually get to each other, but so achingly welcome. “I think… whatever’s going on, it’s something you’ve needed for a while. Thank you for letting me help you.” 

Oh. 

The kettle starts to whistle and Shadow gives Vio an apologetic look. “So as comfy as the kitchen floor is, maybe we move this to the couch?”

Vio nods and stands on shaky legs, watching hypnotized as Shadow prepares their tea. He really is good at it, far better than Vio during his weeks of caffeine-fueled arcane research. Then again, for Vio it had only been about fuel—for Shadow it seems to be therapy, and art, and a way to show how much he cares. 

“What?” Shadow asks, turning his head as the tea seeps. “Not how you want it?” 

Vio shakes his head vehemently. 

“No. This is exactly how I want it.” 

━━

It was Shadow’s idea to invite the Hero’s father to their cottage. As they sat on the couch and sipped their tea and said so many of the things they should have said months ago, they agreed it would be daunting but good for everyone involved. 

And it has been good, so far—a little awkward at first, mostly between Shadow and the Captain (warranted, given their last significant interaction)—but good overall. 

Shadow has taken the backseat for the majority of the afternoon, busying himself in the kitchen and eavesdropping while Vio shows the Captain various legends about previous iterations of the Hero. That part was Vio’s idea, and Shadow can’t imagine anything more fitting. While Vio is not and will never be the son the Captain knew, it doesn’t seem that the Captain resents him in the slightest (Shadow could have guessed that, but it’s great for Vio to see). In fact, Vio’s information dumping seems to bring the Captain closer to the Hero’s memory in an unexpectedly poignant way. 

They seem to be wrapping up, though, which makes sense since dusk is beginning to fall. The Captain will want to be on his way soon, as the woods surrounding their cottage tend to get a little hairy at night. 

Shadow takes a deep breath as he prepares to step out of the kitchen. While today is mostly for Vio, he has his own discomforts with the Captain. But he’s no hypocrite, and certainly no coward—after all, there’s some Hero in him too.

“Thank you for the tea,” the Captain says to Shadow, who stays in the kitchen door frame with his arms crossed. “It was excellent.” 

“Thanks,” Shadow says, looking at Vio as he rises from the couch. 

“And thank you, Vio,” the Captain tells the blonde, resting a hand on the shorter man’s shoulder. “I would really like to learn more sometime. I bet the others would, too. They miss you.” 

Vio rubs the back of his neck in a way Shadow has always found so unfairly adorable. The guy can be a criminal mastermind when he wants to be, but in moments like these he could fool just about anyone. Which, to be fair, he probably has..

“Tell them we say hello,” Shadow says, crossing the room to Vio’s side. He wants so badly to take his hand—like, so badly—but that was not something they got around to discussing last night. 

It’s okay. If Vio doesn’t care for Shadow in that way, it won’t be the end of their friendship or cohabitation... but Shadow’s pretty sure he does. Call it a hunch. Whether Vio knows how he feels, however, is yet to be seen. 

The Captain looks from Vio to Shadow and then back again. It’s clear he wants to ask them something but quickly decides against it. “You’ve made a nice home for yourselves out here,” he says instead. “I’m glad you found each other again. Neither of you deserves to be lonely.”

And for once, both Shadow and Vio are equally stunned into silence. 

“Anyway, I’ll be off,” the Captain says, shrugging on his cloak and heading for the door. “You two have a good night.” 

“Walk safe,” Shadow and Vio say at the exact same time. Their faces sour. What has become of them, saying something like ‘walk safe’ with complete sincerity? 

The Captain leaves and it’s just Shadow and Vio again, as it should be, inside their house that’s also their home. 

━━

“One more cup before bed?” Shadow asks as he returns to the kitchen, grabbing the dirty mugs from the coffee table as he passes. 

“Sure,” Vio says, because even though he just had tea with the Captain he knows it’ll make Shadow happy and he likes seeing Shadow happy and he can totally admit that to himself without cringing or needing to hide in a dark room with no windows. 

Shadow turns his back to Vio as he places the dirty dishes in the sink and pours water into the kettle. He’s humming, again, and Vio smiles. “Where did you learn that song?” 

Shadow shrugs as he crosses over to the stove, firing it up and placing down the kettle. “Dunno. Kinda just thought I made it up. Why do you ask?”

“It’s, uh… it’s a good song, is all.” 

Shadow faces Vio as the water begins to boil, wearing the infectious grin Vio has never been able to resist. Both young men lean against opposite counters, and the kitchen feels more cramped than it ever has before. 

“You think it went okay, with the Captain?” Shadow asks, seemingly unaware of the tension between them. 

“Oh, uh. Yes. I think so.” 

“I’m glad. I was scared it was a bad idea, or that it would go wrong… I’m really proud of you for following through with it. I’m really proud of us both, actually. Sometimes I act like I know what I’m doing, with the therapy-talk and everything, but all of this terrifies me too. Sometimes I miss the good old days of arson and evil root beer, you know?” 

Vio nods dumbly and Shadow cocks his head. “Uh, you good?” 

And after all the time and all the tension, all the hurt and all the healing, the inviolable truth finally comes out.

“Shadow I really like you, like not just a friend-like you, and I have for a long time, pretty much ever since we met in the woods and you were hitting on me, like you were definitely hitting on me right, I came into existence and met you and pretty much immediately was like ‘well I guess I’m into men, good to know,’ anyway we shared that throne and drank evil root beer but I was stupid and betrayed you and you died but then I brought you back and I’m so glad it worked and that I’m here and that you’re here and Hylia I want to kiss you all the time so if you’re interested in that maybe we could—”

Shadow kisses him.

The kettle whistles.

And whistles. 

And whistles.

And whistles.

━━

"Whenever there is a meeting, a parting shall follow. 

But that parting needs not last forever. 

Whether a parting be forever or merely for a short while... 

that is up to you."