#either is plenty plausible

[castielsfuckassdiary]

I saw Moana 2 today with Jack! I won't spoil it for you all, but I cried. :'(

Back to the real source of entertainment.

Clementine is a thriving monarch, the bees are happy. Kevin is getting increasingly more delusional. I think we have to put him down again. Charlie is still my best friend, and I think she's asked Hermione to bless my bee colony. Thank you Hermione <3

Bye diary!

[creatingblackcharacters]

No, That’s Not ‘How Color Works’. - Whitewashing

Whitewashing, as defined by Merriam-Webster:

"to alter (something) in a way that favors, features, or caters to white people: such as a) to portray (the past) in a way that increases the prominence, relevance, or impact of white people and minimizes or misrepresents that of nonwhite people and B) to alter (an original story) by casting a white performer in a role based on a nonwhite person or fictional character"

In fandom context, we know it to include:

Making someone’s skin lighter

Making someone’s hair a thinner texture

Changing someone’s nose to be thinner

Shrinking their lips

Changing the character in their entirety to be someone else

The Normalization of Whitewashing

Remember how I mentioned last lesson that despite the nature of poorly drawn Black characters, most audiences are not turned off enough to discourage the action in professional works? Similar idea with whitewashing. Not the same- unlike the Ambiguously Brown Character, which claims to have plausible deniability, overt whitewashing is usually enough to make fans speak up! But that’s the key word here- overt! It has to be “bad enough” to make enough people speak up, but as we’ve seen many a time, “bad enough” seems to have a much higher threshold for nonblack viewership (sometimes the limit doesn’t exist!)

Some visual examples

This is a link to my personal thread on a Netflix show I was watching- Worst Ex Ever. Now, while the show itself was quite enlightening, there was something I could not get over. I thought I was going crazy. And that was that no matter how dark the person of color would be in real life, the animated portions would draw this light pinkish-brown. Every. Single. Time. It's like they couldn't fathom scrolling down the color wheel. And this is a Netflix original! Netflix has plenty of money for someone to have caught this in creation. But... it was produced. And put out. And they're making more of it.

I asked all of the Dragon Age fans about the series, and uh… I didn’t know things were this bad, guys! Apparently this is a man of color, but it doesn't seem like the creators want you to know that 🤣. Jokes aside, as I’ve discussed before, the noticeable whitewashing- and that was one of many racist things I was told- was not enough to prevent sales... so why would they stop? I can only hope this new game, with all the updates, is enough to turn the tide. But the series has gone on for a while now, that if they’d chosen to do ye same olde… there clearly would not be a lack of financial support to prevent it.

Colorism as a Tool

Even when actors of color are cast, colorism often plays a role in normalizing whitewashing to audiences, even to Black audiences! People think “oh well at least they’re Black!” as if that is the only important part. It is not.

While Aaron Pierre, the actor cast for John Stewart of Green Lantern fame, is a GORGEOUS, STUNNING man, he is not the dark-skinned man that John Stewart is supposed to be and should not have been cast! To me, this is overt colorism, but clearly for many people this is not “enough” to warrant concern or even prevent the casting itself- including the studio behind the movie! Black fans have plead for years for the character of Storm to be played by a dark-skinned, preferably African, woman, and it has never happened.

It naturally happens in fan spaces as well, which is another indicator that colorism as a tool for whitewashing is quite effective for audiences. If I see one more Zendaya fan cast for Kida from Atlantis, I will scream. It’s been happening for years, and I don’t think any of the people who just want to see her and Tom on screen either understand or care that Kida is a dark-skinned character. Zendaya doesn’t look anything like Kida- it doesn’t matter if she’s Black too! Just because someone is Black does not mean they can play every single Black character! I’ve even seen people fancast Emilia Clarke of Game of Thrones fame, to which… I don’t have the words. I can’t fathom what would cause these decisions other than racism.

The Common Excuses

I must be honest. I don’t really feel like re-iterating how certain things are not okay and how to fix them, because I’ve already discussed these things in massive detail. So I’m just going to direct the excuses I regularly hear to my lessons, where you can read up on them.

“Their hair/eyes are like that because they’re biracial so-”

Relevant Lessons: 2.1, 2.2, 2.3, 8, 9, 10

There is nothing wrong with having biracial characters with a range of features. I am not saying that! Because yeah, genetics do happen!

But I mentioned this in my last lesson, and I will re-emphasize here, that using biracial identity as a way to whitewash is a sinister form of racism. The intention here- the real intention- is the issue here! The idea that somehow this character can only look the way you want them to look by "diluting" their Blackness… I don’t know how you can explain yourselves out of that one.

You don’t get to use us as an excuse for diversity while still trying to maintain your preference for Eurocentric beauty standards. Black biracial people don’t always look light skinned, thin-haired and ambiguous, and even the ones that do don’t deserve to be treated as your fetish for pretend antiracism. If you just want to draw a white person with a tan, do that. But don’t change a character’s entire look just so you can work in some whiteness. If you want to claim that canon Black character’s mother was white, then I guess they inherited some of her personality because their features should not change.

“It’s my style/It’s the color-”

Relevant Lessons: 3, 4, 10

I hate all excuses for whitewashing, but I’ve grown to despise, hate, abhor and loathe this one the most as I’ve become an artist. I wish there were stronger words to describe just how much I hate the “style” and “color” excuse.

Are style and use of color oft intertwined? Absolutely. I’m not saying they aren’t. But out of everything, there are two things I want artists to understand:

1. Style does not cancel out racism! No style forces you to choose ashy greys and to change peoples’ features. That’s you! If you look at something, and it looks offensive, you change the style. You grow as an artist!

2. “Everyone who is brown will look ashy so I just-” if you recognize that your Black characters look strange in comparison to your nonblack characters, then it’s time to try something else! I don’t understand this sudden need for “realism” when it comes to color and lighting, but not when it comes to hair, for example. No one cares about realism when giving every and all Black characters wavy tresses they probably wouldn’t have, but suddenly milquetoast watercolor attempts at brown and off-putting lighting is “how it works”. That’s not fair.

The color picker is an available tool! I use it often!

Dead giveaway of purposeful whitewashing: if someone gets the outfit color palette right via color picking, but the skin color is multiple shades lighter. That means they were looking at that character and chose not to proceed.

Dead giveaway of purposeful whitewashing: if the white characters in the show are completely correct in their palettes. Again, that means they cared enough to look at everyone else… and not the Black characters.

If you use the color picker and the color picked is… disrespectful, you do not have to use that! You can simply choose a better color that is still similar to the brown that ought to be depicted!

“It’s the lighting-”

Relevant Lessons: 4, 5

If your white characters do not shine like snow in the sunlight because of your lighting, then your lighting does not make your Black characters suddenly light tan.

If your Black characters look bad in your lighting of choice- for example, putting a very dark-skinned character in electric white lighting can be ghastly- try changing the intensity or the color of the lighting. DON’T change your character’s skin color!

I'm going to show you some pictures of South Sudanese model Nyakim Gatwech. Pay attention to the choices of light, color, and makeup.

Look how BEAUTIFUL she is! Look at the choices of intensity and color of light, and how they make her look different in each image.

Now look at this image in comparison:

In this image, whoever did her makeup and took this picture did not take into consideration her skin tone. She's also under this really intense lighting. This is an example of "increasing the lighting does NOT make an image "better"". She didn't need to have lighter skin or "more lighting" to look good. She needed BETTER lighting, lighting that worked with HER.

To see this as an example in drawn art, @dsm7 makes an excellent argument for proper lighting and color, why it is an issue to use it as an excuse, and how to solve that problem.

‼️DISCLAIMER FOR NEXT EXAMPLE‼️

Okay. I am about to show y’all a fan-created example from my personal experience. It is a TEACHING EXPERIENCE ONLY. I am not including the artist’s name in this image. It happened a couple years ago, and it’s over- they’ve chosen to be who they are despite me kindly confronting them about it. The only reason I’m including it at all is because I feel like it would be remiss to have such a clear-cut, multi-level example, and not teach with it. That said, no, I am not telling anyone to act out towards them. Again, that is not what I’m telling you to do. The last thing I need is a literal lynch mob of angry nonblack viewership for trying to teach you all, and y’all sitting there watching it happen to me. Every example of whitewashing is not going to be so obvious, but I hope you learn how to spot the examples in the art you see and share.

I'm obviously a Hades fan, particularly of Patroclus- despite my disdain for the lack of effort in his canon character design. So I've seen a lot of things. That said:

“Well it’s just MY design of them-”

Relevant Lessons: ALL

The sepia coloring did not do this. The lighting did not do this. The design is the exact same as the Hades version, even down to the shape of the hair curling in the back. The only thing that is different… is the man himself.

Y'all. Y'all! You CANNOT take a pre-existing Black character and say “oh well this is my design of them” …and the design is of a whole white person. Because if the rest of the fit is the same, and the only thing that changed is the Blackness… Racism. If you’re going to “make up your own design”, then do that!

“Blackwashing”

Speaking of: I’m sure someone edgy out there thinks they’re so smart as they retort to the screen: “but if that’s not okay, then why is Blackwashing okay?” To which I say- shut up. 😐

The “definition” by fandom: making a nonblack character Black, usually an anime character, but characters in general.

Funny enough, the actual definition in the dictionary (or closest to) is “to defame”, in contrast with whitewash (as in whitewashing history). Maybe racist fans ARE using it correctly when they say you’re blackwashing their characters, when they mean you’re making them “less likable because they’re Black now”. 🤔

Anyway: Blackwashing is not real for the same reason reverse racism is not real.

Me painting these characters brown is not going to take away from the fact that there are far more of you in media than there is of me. Me saying that I ‘headcanon a character as Black with 4C hair’ is not going to make the studio go “oh! Well they must be Black with 4C hair now!” Me saying “oh I think I’d like this character better if they were Black” as a beta tester (less overtly, obviously, because I’m not racist!) will never make a studio change that character. Black viewers have minimal value in comparison to the power of the white viewer’s dollar. I could draw white characters Black every single day of every single game media… and they would still produce majority white characters. There has not been centuries- if not millennia, when we consider Jesus Christ himself, even- of purposeful “Blackwashing” with the intent of removing the original ethnicity- and thus importance- of white people. No one has ever been allowed to forget when someone is white. No one has ever been allowed to forget or not acknowledge white people.

How it could be "solved"

Personally, I love Black edits and I welcome them here. I find them creative and fun. But if you really, REALLY didn’t want us to make those edits, then naturally, we need more Black characters in all of our media!

I wouldn’t have to make edits if I saw more of me to begin with in the things I like to watch- but when we have those characters, racists act an ass about them. We’re not allowed to even be present! I’ve seen too many gamer bros mocking the existence of Yasuke in Assassin’s Creed, and he was a real ass man. But if we made a game about African peoples in African societies, how many of the gamer bros would actually play those games? Do you think there’d be as much support, when we hear so much about Black characters that are treated so abhorrently? How many games do we have where people would love their faves just as much if they were Black? I even learned that Solas was apparently supposed to be a man of color. IMAGINE how many people would not have liked that man, with the same exact plot and characterization.

Something I’ve noticed recently: apparently "Blackwashing" is not a thing when White fans “allow” it. Take this recent trend with Miku. International Miku was beloved! But if you draw any other character as Black on any other day, there will be people that are horrid about it. Ask any artist, Black artists and Black cosplayers especially, who’s ever done it what their comments are like. I’ve read entire missives akin to white supremacist drivel on how it’s somehow morally wrong to make characters Black. Meanwhile no amount of “hey maybe you shouldn’t do this” prevented the movie Gods of Egypt from being created, with a cast full of British White people.

Solutions to Avoiding Whitewashing!

1) Using References!!

Do I think you should know what Black people look like? Yes. We’re humans. It’s 2024. Everyone knows what we look like when it’s time to hate and discriminate against us, so you know what we look like when it’s time to love and depict us. If you’re on Tumblr, you have access to the Internet. ESPECIALLY if you’re in the U.S., as Black people are the source of damn near every piece of online pop culture. If you can find my dialect to make my jokes, you can find pictures of me.

Would I rather you use a reference every single time so that you can only strengthen your depiction of my people? ABSOLUTELY.

Anyone on the Internet telling you not to use a reference or that you shouldn’t need a reference? Unfollow them. You don’t need that negativity in your life. Why would you deprive yourself of a tool to create? The greatest portrait painters in history had to look at their subjects! You are not getting paid nearly as much to do this as Hans Holbein, and he had to stare at Henry VIII correct else lose his head- you can pull up multiple references. I’d far rather be judged for using hella references than be judged for being a racist!

Part of the issue is people draw what they’re used to, what they’re comfortable with (thus last lesson). But if what you’re used to is not what someone will look like… That’s not okay. Their features are not the issue, your skills are the issue. Learn! Practice! There is no rush. No one is rushing you to be perfect at drawing Black characters, and no one is rushing you to post them. You can just practice! If you’re not a professional, you can take as long as you need to draw! If you need to draw that piece of hair over and over until you feel like you have down the shape, you do that! If you need to use a tool that would draw the hair for you, you get that tool!

If you want to post, you can say you are practicing! If you make clear you are practicing, then be willing to accept that people may have feedback. I’d far rather deal with someone saying they’re unconfident and practicing, than someone posting a whitewashed caricature and closing their ears because “well at least I’m trying!”

2) Empathize! Care about actual Black people when you create a Black character!

Imagine, if you will, in the Twilight Zone: you went to an artist, and you asked for a white character (I typed in “regular looking white dude” on google). There’s hardly ever any white characters, you’re so super excited about this one! You paid good money, because you’ve seen just how amazing this artist creates! They’re so good at drawing characters of color! But no matter how many times you ask, they send you back an image of… Assad Zaman.

That man might be fine as hell! Gorgeous! Beautifully done! Chef’s kiss. Stunning! But… He’s not white. That’s not what you asked or paid for. You can’t even fathom how they mixed this up, they don’t even look alike! And when you confront them, they gaslight you, they call YOU the issue for not understanding how you can’t tell that this is a white man! They would never get this wrong! They have white friends, you’re the racist! But you’re not stupid, and you have functioning eyes- you can SEE what this drawing looks like! And… It’s not you.

It’s dehumanizing. It’s being told that there’s a “better way” to look like you, and that’s by… Not looking like you. You, as you exist, are what’s incorrect. Your identity is incorrect, not their drawing. It’s better to have thinner hair instead of an afro or locs, it’s better to have lighter skin, it’s better to have a straighter, thinner nose over a round one, and smaller lips.

And what makes it worse is knowing that people who don’t look like you? Probably won’t care. They won’t be willing to see- not unable, but unwilling- that playing with this caricature is harmful, that they’re propagating harm by not acknowledging it. They’re letting you know that your humanity means less to them than the clout received with a whitewashed or half-assed Black character, and that people will applaud them for that ‘attempt at inclusion’. And people will applaud! They will be entertained by the mere performance! And that hurts.

I’m going to say this, and it’s awkward and I try not to say it directly on here, but… Having Black friends and/or being around actual, real life Black people would help. I can tell from some of the questions I receive that Black characters and their traits- especially things like our hair and our cultures- are being treated as… alien concepts. But even if, for whatever reason, you legitimately don’t know any Black people, you do not need to know us individually to care about our humanity as a whole! Even if you do not know we’re there, we are, and we could possibly see your work!

By acknowledging Blackness and making room to understand what it means- and that includes how we can look- you are doing the bare minimum of acknowledging our personhood. If you cannot do even that, you don’t need to be drawing us.

Conclusion

Here’s the thing: if you want to draw a white man with tanned skin, do that. Just do it! You do NOT have to erase me to have more of you! There is not a single fandom where the majority of the white fans ever said “gee, not another white guy!” It simply doesn’t happen. God knows we wish it did sometimes. You will always have an audience for white characters. There’s no danger to any of you of “being erased”.

(Without putting on my political hat, I will say that a lot of white people who consider themselves to be far from white supremacist will express beliefs in line with great replacement theory if you push them hard enough. It is unfortunately not as uncommon an idea as you might think. I would do some self-evaluation.)

People are going to notice that you only ever draw white people, but… To be frank, that has never stopped anybody from being successful. Again, Jen Zee, at Supergiant with the terrible dark-skinned characters… Still has a job. at Supergiant. A professional studio. Dragon Age. Multiple games of consistent whitewashing and racist writing. Still going. If racism prevented creation and popularity, I wouldn’t have to have this blog. Alas, that is the society we currently live in.

But if you ACTUALLY want to depict Black characters, if you ACTUALLY want to do right and be respectful- not because you want the clout, but because it’s the right damn thing to do- then you need to commit! This means drawing them as they are meant to be! Accept that you’ll likely lose some fan base, who was there (whether they were aware of it or not) for the white and lighter skinned characters. Accept that this means that trying to appeal to those people by whitewashing characters is 1) wrong, 2) racist, which is 3) something you chose to do when you could simply have just… Drawn more white people.

I’ll say it again: antiracism is hard. It’s hard doing the right thing in a society that rewards racism so easily. It’s really hard knowing that people will stop supporting you or caring as much about your work when you start including Black characters as actively as you do white ones, especially if you start talking about the importance of it. But in my honest opinion, I’d far rather be someone that cared about others, with genuine fans, than someone that was racist for the fleeting internet clout of strangers. And that may be less ‘hopeful’ than I normally am in these lessons, but… People make choices. And people who have been informed- as you are now- are aware of the choices they are making. It’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers- let’s choose better actions.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Even if you think AI search could be good, it won’t be good

TONIGHT (May 15), I'm in NORTH HOLLYWOOD for a screening of STEPHANIE KELTON'S FINDING THE MONEY; FRIDAY (May 17), I'm at the INTERNET ARCHIVE in SAN FRANCISCO to keynote the 10th anniversary of the AUTHORS ALLIANCE.

The big news in search this week is that Google is continuing its transition to "AI search" – instead of typing in search terms and getting links to websites, you'll ask Google a question and an AI will compose an answer based on things it finds on the web:

https://blog.google/products/search/generative-ai-google-search-may-2024/

Google bills this as "let Google do the googling for you." Rather than searching the web yourself, you'll delegate this task to Google. Hidden in this pitch is a tacit admission that Google is no longer a convenient or reliable way to retrieve information, drowning as it is in AI-generated spam, poorly labeled ads, and SEO garbage:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/03/keyword-swarming/#site-reputation-abuse

Googling used to be easy: type in a query, get back a screen of highly relevant results. Today, clicking the top links will take you to sites that paid for placement at the top of the screen (rather than the sites that best match your query). Clicking further down will get you scams, AI slop, or bulk-produced SEO nonsense.

AI-powered search promises to fix this, not by making Google search results better, but by having a bot sort through the search results and discard the nonsense that Google will continue to serve up, and summarize the high quality results.

Now, there are plenty of obvious objections to this plan. For starters, why wouldn't Google just make its search results better? Rather than building a LLM for the sole purpose of sorting through the garbage Google is either paid or tricked into serving up, why not just stop serving up garbage? We know that's possible, because other search engines serve really good results by paying for access to Google's back-end and then filtering the results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

Another obvious objection: why would anyone write the web if the only purpose for doing so is to feed a bot that will summarize what you've written without sending anyone to your webpage? Whether you're a commercial publisher hoping to make money from advertising or subscriptions, or – like me – an open access publisher hoping to change people's minds, why would you invite Google to summarize your work without ever showing it to internet users? Nevermind how unfair that is, think about how implausible it is: if this is the way Google will work in the future, why wouldn't every publisher just block Google's crawler?

A third obvious objection: AI is bad. Not morally bad (though maybe morally bad, too!), but technically bad. It "hallucinates" nonsense answers, including dangerous nonsense. It's a supremely confident liar that can get you killed:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2023/sep/01/mushroom-pickers-urged-to-avoid-foraging-books-on-amazon-that-appear-to-be-written-by-ai

The promises of AI are grossly oversold, including the promises Google makes, like its claim that its AI had discovered millions of useful new materials. In reality, the number of useful new materials Deepmind had discovered was zero:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/23/maximal-plausibility/#reverse-centaurs

This is true of all of AI's most impressive demos. Often, "AI" turns out to be low-waged human workers in a distant call-center pretending to be robots:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/31/neural-interface-beta-tester/#tailfins

Sometimes, the AI robot dancing on stage turns out to literally be just a person in a robot suit pretending to be a robot:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

The AI video demos that represent "an existential threat to Hollywood filmmaking" turn out to be so cumbersome as to be practically useless (and vastly inferior to existing production techniques):

https://www.wheresyoured.at/expectations-versus-reality/

But let's take Google at its word. Let's stipulate that:

a) It can't fix search, only add a slop-filtering AI layer on top of it; and

b) The rest of the world will continue to let Google index its pages even if they derive no benefit from doing so; and

c) Google will shortly fix its AI, and all the lies about AI capabilities will be revealed to be premature truths that are finally realized.

AI search is still a bad idea. Because beyond all the obvious reasons that AI search is a terrible idea, there's a subtle – and incurable – defect in this plan: AI search – even excellent AI search – makes it far too easy for Google to cheat us, and Google can't stop cheating us.

Remember: enshittification isn't the result of worse people running tech companies today than in the years when tech services were good and useful. Rather, enshittification is rooted in the collapse of constraints that used to prevent those same people from making their services worse in service to increasing their profit margins:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/26/glitchbread/#electronic-shelf-tags

These companies always had the capacity to siphon value away from business customers (like publishers) and end-users (like searchers). That comes with the territory: digital businesses can alter their "business logic" from instant to instant, and for each user, allowing them to change payouts, prices and ranking. I call this "twiddling": turning the knobs on the system's back-end to make sure the house always wins:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

What changed wasn't the character of the leaders of these businesses, nor their capacity to cheat us. What changed was the consequences for cheating. When the tech companies merged to monopoly, they ceased to fear losing your business to a competitor.

Google's 90% search market share was attained by bribing everyone who operates a service or platform where you might encounter a search box to connect that box to Google. Spending tens of billions of dollars every year to make sure no one ever encounters a non-Google search is a cheaper way to retain your business than making sure Google is the very best search engine:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Competition was once a threat to Google; for years, its mantra was "competition is a click away." Today, competition is all but nonexistent.

Then the surveillance business consolidated into a small number of firms. Two companies dominate the commercial surveillance industry: Google and Meta, and they collude to rig the market:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

That consolidation inevitably leads to regulatory capture: shorn of competitive pressure, the companies that dominate the sector can converge on a single message to policymakers and use their monopoly profits to turn that message into policy:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

This is why Google doesn't have to worry about privacy laws. They've successfully prevented the passage of a US federal consumer privacy law. The last time the US passed a federal consumer privacy law was in 1988. It's a law that bans video store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you rented:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Video_Privacy_Protection_Act

In Europe, Google's vast profits lets it fly an Irish flag of convenience, thus taking advantage of Ireland's tolerance for tax evasion and violations of European privacy law:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

Google doesn't fear competition, it doesn't fear regulation, and it also doesn't fear rival technologies. Google and its fellow Big Tech cartel members have expanded IP law to allow it to prevent third parties from reverse-engineer, hacking, or scraping its services. Google doesn't have to worry about ad-blocking, tracker blocking, or scrapers that filter out Google's lucrative, low-quality results:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Google doesn't fear competition, it doesn't fear regulation, it doesn't fear rival technology and it doesn't fear its workers. Google's workforce once enjoyed enormous sway over the company's direction, thanks to their scarcity and market power. But Google has outgrown its dependence on its workers, and lays them off in vast numbers, even as it increases its profits and pisses away tens of billions on stock buybacks:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/25/moral-injury/#enshittification

Google is fearless. It doesn't fear losing your business, or being punished by regulators, or being mired in guerrilla warfare with rival engineers. It certainly doesn't fear its workers.

Making search worse is good for Google. Reducing search quality increases the number of queries, and thus ads, that each user must make to find their answers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

If Google can make things worse for searchers without losing their business, it can make more money for itself. Without the discipline of markets, regulators, tech or workers, it has no impediment to transferring value from searchers and publishers to itself.

Which brings me back to AI search. When Google substitutes its own summaries for links to pages, it creates innumerable opportunities to charge publishers for preferential placement in those summaries.

This is true of any algorithmic feed: while such feeds are important – even vital – for making sense of huge amounts of information, they can also be used to play a high-speed shell-game that makes suckers out of the rest of us:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/11/for-you/#the-algorithm-tm

When you trust someone to summarize the truth for you, you become terribly vulnerable to their self-serving lies. In an ideal world, these intermediaries would be "fiduciaries," with a solemn (and legally binding) duty to put your interests ahead of their own:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/07/treacherous-computing/#rewilding-the-internet

But Google is clear that its first duty is to its shareholders: not to publishers, not to searchers, not to "partners" or employees.

AI search makes cheating so easy, and Google cheats so much. Indeed, the defects in AI give Google a readymade excuse for any apparent self-dealing: "we didn't tell you a lie because someone paid us to (for example, to recommend a product, or a hotel room, or a political point of view). Sure, they did pay us, but that was just an AI 'hallucination.'"

The existence of well-known AI hallucinations creates a zone of plausible deniability for even more enshittification of Google search. As Madeleine Clare Elish writes, AI serves as a "moral crumple zone":

https://estsjournal.org/index.php/ests/article/view/260

That's why, even if you're willing to believe that Google could make a great AI-based search, we can nevertheless be certain that they won't.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/15/they-trust-me-dumb-fucks/#ai-search

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

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CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[minus-plus-zer0]

"You Know You're Fictional, Right?"

♡ Genre: Fluff, crack ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader ♡ Tags: Established relationships

You just wanted to fuck with his head, that's all.

"Katsuki," you said to your loving and ever-patient boyfriend, "you know you're fictional, right?"

"Hah?"

You leaned on his bedroom desk, giving him the utmost pitying and concerned look. Bakugou was not having it today.

"Don't you got anything better to do than to mess with me?!" Bakugou banged his fist on the desk. "Why the hell are you accusing me of being fictional?"

"I'm only warning you for you own sake," you said, voice wobbling from sadness. Bakugou just narrowed his eyes at you. "I've wanted to tell you for a while... but..." You sniffled. "I didn't know how to bring it up!"

"So now that we're dating, you wanna pull this shit?"

"...Yes? I-I just needed to earn your trust before I--ah!"

Bakugou tickled you and you giggled, wrenching yourself away from his evil fingers. You caught your breath a short distance away from him, while he grinned madly in his seat.

"Got you back," Bakugou said, satisfied at your state of disarray from the tickles. "Now don't go calling me fictional again! I'm your real boyfriend! Not a fake one. Who do you think you're calling 'fictional'?"

"But what if I have to go back to my home world someday? you asked. "You can't just avoid this conversation, Katsuki!"

"I can and I will. Now, are you gonna cuddle with me or not, babe?"

You sighed and curled up in his lap while he finished his homework. You continued to ramble on about your theories regarding your shared world, how superpowers weren't natural, and how even All Might didn't exist in the world you supposedly came from.

“Am I the most popular in your world?” he asked, barely trying to humor you. “Or do those idiots got bad taste?”

He was the most popular, but you wouldn’t tell him that. “No, it’s actually Midoriya.”

“What?! Him?! You’re lying! That world is messed up.”

“You still have plenty of fans though!”

“...Are they weird and creepy fans?”

“Um… define ‘weird and creepy’.”

“Uggggghhh." Bakugou held you tighter in his lap. "Just shoot me.”

“Don’t say that!" You stroked his head. "At least people still like you at all! They love seeing your adventures!”

Bakugou slammed his pencil on the desk. “That wasn’t for them to see! That was private! You hear me? Private!” Bakugou lowered his voice, his face close to yours. “What goes on between us is private too. Now don’t go telling your little imaginary friends what we do. That’s only for us to know.”

Bakugou kissed you and then turned back to his homework. You sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You still don’t believe you’re fictional,” you murmured. “Poor baby is in denial.”

"It’s ’cause your world sounds boring," Bakugou said, mindlessly writing out answers in his homework. Then, he turned back to you. "You should stick with this one. I want you staying here forever. You’re mine.”

"Katsuki, I was only trying to prank you. Of course I'm staying here!"

"Then why the fuck did you bring up all that sad shit about leaving to your own world! Don't say that kinda crap outta nowhere!"

"But that's my specialty."

Bakugou kiss-attacked your face, making you giggle as you swatted his terrifying kisses away.

"Specialty my ass," Bakugou said, beaming at you. "Go be special at something else then, how about that? Like tell me about your day or who's been bugging you. Don't go talking about how you're leaving me, it pisses me off."

"Katsuki, you know how my day was. We hang out all the time!"

"Well then fucking remind me!"

Nothing you did could convince Bakugou he was fictional, and maybe that was fine. The next day, you instead tried to make him believe that you were his fictional girlfriend, and he didn’t like that either.

“I didn’t get an imaginary girlfriend ‘cause I’m supposedly lonely, dammit!”

“I don’t know,” Kaminari said. “It sounds pretty plausible for you.”

The moment Bakugou’s hands started exploding, Kaminari ran away screaming. From then on, Bakugou had to prove to everyone that you and him were actually together and that no, dating him was not another one of your elaborate pranks. And from now on, Bakugou will side-eye you if you mention any other fictional crushes you have...

(This one has been sitting in my drafts for ages!)

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Tribulations Part 1

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: 14.6k

Summary: Arguing with Wanda leads to more stress than usual for both of you.

A/N: Here's the angst (FINALLY). It will be two parts just because it's so damn long!

Warnings: Angst, arguments, sickness, discussions about death/end of life.

Money. 

Of all the things that you thought you’d argue about with your wife…well this wasn’t in the top ten. 

Neither of you had ever really considered money an issue in your marriage. It certainly wasn’t a point of contention like you’ve heard it can be with most other couples. You both make plenty of money, sure Wanda made a lot more, but it wasn’t as if either of you were ever stressed about money. 

For this reason, you’re not sure how a simple conversation about getting affairs in order had caused an argument. 

That said, when emotions were running high, sometimes both you and Wanda were guilty of saying things you shouldn’t. 

This conversation started because of an issue that you and Wanda were far more used to fighting over. 

Her job. 

She’d been out last night, like most nights of the week, and one of her meetings hadn’t gone as well as she’d hoped. She’d been sitting down with one of her suppliers to renegotiate terms, but she’d somehow offended him along the way. She couldn’t quite remember what she’d said that made him so upset. Was it the previously agreed upon 10% fee increase, or was it the fact she was only signing a 2-year contract instead of a 3 year? 

All Wanda really remembers is that the table between them had been flipped and guns started going off. After the table hit her in the face and broke something, it actually protected her from being shot more than once which she was grateful for. She was only a little less grateful after she went through surgery to repair her zygomatic arch and remove the bullet from her side. It was just a flesh wound, but this fact only made you feel a little better when you arrived at medical to visit your wife. 

She admittedly had looked a little rough with the bruising beneath her left eye that extended down her cheek. The careful suturing along her face was unlikely to leave a scar she’d been told, but that didn’t stop it from looking gnarly right after surgery, and for weeks afterward. 

When you’d seen your wife lying in bed with a grimace and a horrendous looking bruise you’d panicked. You’d already been briefed by Steve as usual, but even he wasn’t able to appease your growing anxiety this time. 

You’d been at work when he called you, and it took you longer than you would have liked to leave. This stress was compounded by Wanda’s appearance, and you may have been a little blunter than you usually were after she was hurt on the job. 

“You need to get out Wands.” 

You usually didn’t start the conversation like this. You of course asked how she was feeling first, but usually you’d sit with her for a bit and fuss over her before you asked her to explain what happened. You’d barely waited two minutes and Wanda’s shame at being hurt quickly was overshadowed by annoyance at your insistence that she quit.

“It’s not that easy, Y/n.” 

You of course knew this and you told her this, but not in the best way. This had probably been the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

“Well obviously, Wands, but you need to try harder.” 

“How do you propose I do that, Y/n?” 

You had been too focused on the discoloration and swelling around her eye to think of anything particularly plausible. 

“I don’t know, Wanda, but you need to leave before you get killed.” 

Unsurprisingly, Wanda had given you the silent treatment for an hour until you finally left her alone to return to work. You were more upset by the fact that she’d gotten hurt than anything else, but you’d taken your fear and frustration out on her which you felt guilty about. You’d been distracted for the entire time you’d attempted to stay at work that night. You figured you just needed time to calm down while Wanda needed to focus on getting better. She shouldn’t have to worry about you and your insecurities right now. You’d visited her for two days at the compound after work until she was discharged and set free to go back home. 

You’d been hoping that she would return home and take time off of work, but that hadn’t happened. Wanda had to make up for lost time, and you had been so mad you just went home and didn’t speak to her for nearly 24 hours. 

When Wanda finally came home the third night after her surgery, she found you in the living room working on something that surprised her. She barely greeted her dogs as she eyes the words ‘last will and testament’ and wonders what the hell you’re doing. 

She doesn’t realize that she’s asked this out loud until you turn around and shoot her a slightly annoyed look. You look tired like you haven’t slept well, but she doesn’t even have time to consider this right now. She focuses on your scowl and the pen that you’re holding in a white-knuckled grip. 

“What does it look like, Wands? I figure we need to be responsible.” 

Wanda’s response is so quick it almost gives you whiplash. She sounds offended and it doesn’t take you long to figure out why. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

This is when you realized that you hadn’t paid enough attention to your wife. Not only was she in pain and stressed about work, but now you were surprising her with wanting to have your will updated. 

You honestly had just wanted to make sure that everything was in order. Did you leave all of your money to Wanda or Yelena? Check. You did the same for nearly everything else except for one thing that you plan on leaving Natasha. You decided that you weren’t going to tell Wanda about that because even though it is ancient history, you had a letter stashed away that you wanted to give her in the event that you die before Wanda. 

Wanda had sat down beside you waiting for your response, and you just glared at the paper in front of you before you claimed that it wasn’t personal. 

“I just want to be prepared.” 

Wanda frowns at this but she doesn’t argue as she considers asking to read it. It’s not entirely her business even though she’s sure you’ve left her most everything, but she does wonder. Still, she knows she should focus on the reason why you’re doing this tonight, and she can’t help but sigh in defeat. 

“It was a fluke, detka. It won’t happen again.” 

You’re still on edge and Wanda’s empty promises just grate on your nerves. You have been with her for years and you know better than that by now. You know that she can’t guarantee that she’ll be safe, and this truth is a bit harder to stomach tonight. You shake your head before setting down your pen and turning to face your wife.

“So I should just wait until you die to worry about this?” 

Despite knowing that this question is designed to antagonize Wanda, you can’t help but be a little desperate. You know that the only way, the best chance, for Wanda to be safe in the long term is to quit. You’ve talked about it a dozen times in the past year alone, and you both agreed that if you were going to start a family, both you and Wanda had to be as far away from her business as possible. 

This is what you’re thinking about when you ask Wanda to reconsider her career choice in the cruelest way you can. Selfishly, you want your wife by your side for years to come, and you want to stop having to worry about her every time one of you leaves the house. 

You see Wanda’s face fall and you know you’ve made a mistake, but you can’t stop. You unconsciously choose to channel your fear into the least productive line of questioning that focuses on something you couldn’t care less about at the moment. 

“Is all of your money under just your name? Am I the beneficiary or will it all be left to your brother? How does that even work when it’s all earned illegally?” 

You watch as Wanda’s frown turns into an ugly sneer, and you feel yourself tense. You wish you could take a moment to breathe instead of panic, but unfortunately when your wife’s concerned this can be difficult. 

“Are you seriously asking me if you get my money right now? Is that all you care about?”

Even as she asks this, Wanda knows that this isn’t the case. You’re both extremely riled up about different, yet related issues and it’s making you say stupid things. You stand up nearly throwing your chair back onto the floor causing the dogs to jump in surprise. Boone is sitting beside your chair and Rogue stands behind Wanda as you blindly lash out and send the papers in front of you scattering across the floor. Rogue jumps in surprise and ducks behind Wanda while Boone stands up beside you. 

“I don’t give a shit about your money, but we need to start somewhere. It doesn’t seem like you want to admit that you’re never going to leave your job!” 

You and Wanda just stare at each other in silence for an agonizingly long time. It’s Wanda who finally speaks up because you’ve finally said your piece. You’ve voiced one of your greatest fears and you have nothing else to throw at your wife. Wanda eventually just rolls her eyes before storming toward the garage. She doesn’t want to be around you right now, not if you’re just going to keep pressuring her into making a difficult decision. She has a headache and shouting at you has only made it worse. 

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.” 

You don’t manage to respond before you watch both Wanda and Rogue escape to the garage. You hear the door open only moments later, and you’re not exactly shocked to hear her car start and back out leaving you and Boone to think about what you’ve done. 

The morning after your argument with Wanda is worse than you thought it would be. You wake up alone in bed with Boone lying in the hallway right in front of the stairs. The fact that Wanda didn’t come back last night leaves you equally annoyed and upset, but mostly at yourself. You go through the motions of getting ready for work,  but you manage to check your phone a half dozen times for a text or call from your wife. 

Nothing. 

You guess you don’t deserve a check in after last night. 

Wanda didn’t have a much better night away from you. She woke up with her entire left side throbbing and Rogue at the foot of the bed. She forgot to take her medications last night, and she’s certainly regretting it now as she tries to sit up. Her side burns and she bites her lip to keep from screaming as she finally manages to get to her feet. She doesn’t waste any time going to her purse and grabbing the two medications she’d been given a few nights ago. 

She slowly heads to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and something to eat. She’s starving since she skipped dinner last night, and the sight of Rogue following her reminds her that she hadn’t grabbed any of his food before leaving the house. She sighs in defeat as she sets her glass in the sink and looks to the pantry for suitable alternatives for him. She ends up just making extra eggs and toast to give him which feels ridiculous, but Rogue doesn’t seem to mind at all as he munches away at his breakfast on a plate that looks just like hers. 

Wanda is sitting at the table where you’ve always eaten dinner while at the compound when she thinks to call you. She bites down on the urge and swallows it with her slightly burnt toast as she shakes her head. She needs time to think about everything that’s happened in the last week. She’s still not feeling up to talking to you yet, but she has to admit that you make a good point.

You’ve been wanting Wanda to quit her job for years. She’s honestly considered doing it for nearly that long. However, there’s always been something stopping her from taking the chance and leaving the mob. She’d always claimed that it was a dangerous and tedious task untangling herself from the criminal empire she’d run for longer than a decade. 

The risks of leaving herself and by association her family vulnerable never sat well with her, but this wasn’t what kept her from quitting her job. 

She’d never told anyone, certainly not you, but she was terrified of leaving her job. She was afraid that doing so would change everything, and once she had no mobster job, no secret appeal, you’d become bored of her.

It felt silly and conceited, but Wanda knows that becoming a stay-at-home mom, which is the ultimate goal, isn’t nearly as exciting as what she does now on a daily basis. There’s an irrational, or perhaps fearful, part of her brain that’s telling her that quitting will ruin your relationship. You’ll realize that without all of the excitement and danger, that she’s nothing special.

Wanda’s only tried to think of comparable careers that she could pursue to keep this from happening, but it wasn’t realistic. If she was going to leave the mob, she couldn’t try to do anything else. She needed to take a break from work, perhaps permanently, and then stay on the right side of the law for the rest of her life.

She knows she’s been lucky to avoid being charged and going to jail, but at some point, her luck will run out. 

Similarly to how she escaped a few days ago, although not unscathed, she knows that one day she may not make it out. The idea of dying from an injury sustained while working makes her pause and drop her fork back to her plate. She ignores Rogue’s whine as he sits beside her with sad, hungry eyes. 

The idea of leaving you in this fashion makes her blood run cold. She never wants to leave you alone and unprotected, hell she never wants to leave you period, but the idea of blindsiding you in this way…

She pushes her chair back from the table and grimaces as she stands and takes her plate to the kitchen. She sets it in the sink before she stands at the counter staring off into the living room but not seeing anything. She thinks about what would happen if she died. Would someone come after you? Her family? She hates to think of you being hurt, or worse, but the thought of you grieving her death makes her a little nauseous. She makes some coffee and nearly chugs it as she thinks about how she’d feel if she was in your position. 

She has to admit that you are far more patient than she would be. If she had asked you to leave work as much as you had, and been told no for so long…she’s not sure she would have tolerated it. She likely would have threatened to leave you by now, and although she’s pained by the thought, she can’t help it. Her anxiety would make it near impossible to sit home alone night after night not knowing if you’d come home. 

She disappears into the bathroom to change the bandage covering the wound on her side. It’s been cleaned up and closed but it’s still oozing because it’s impossible not to move at all. As she looks into the mirror she pauses before taking off her shirt. She focused on the red line down the side of her face and the splotchy skin beneath her eye. She’s stunned that she didn’t end up worse off after that night. 

As she thinks about this, she can’t keep her mind from wandering to you. 

She’d seen your apprehension when you first came to visit her after her surgery. She’d been in pain and drowsy, and she’d just wanted to cuddle with you. She’d been prepared for some anxiety and was ready to offer reassurance, but your resolute request that she quit caught her off guard.

At first she’d thought that you were mad at her for getting hurt. She’s certain you were worried too, but she’d thought that this had been overshadowed by anger, and she still believes this.

She spends most of the morning scowling as she tries to work out what she wants to do. She needs to do something, and although she’d intended to work, a call from her brother told her that there was nothing to do. He was taking care of everything so she could have the day off, and no amount of arguing with him would change his mind. 

So now Wanda’s mildly irritated at her brother too when she decides that she’s sat around for long enough. She doesn’t want to walk around the compound if she can’t work, so she decides to take more pain meds and take Rogue on a walk around town. 

She retreats to the bedroom once again to figure out the easiest disguise she can so she can get some air as quickly as possible.  

You’re struggling to get through the day at work while Wanda’s busy picking between two different blonde wigs. You slept like shit and it’s caught up to you so quickly that you’ve been forced to drink coffee while at work. This is something you’ve managed to avoid for years, and it’s not something that anyone at work misses. You receive shocked, both kidding and serious, looks when you walk through treatment with a cup of 50% coffee and 50% milk. 

You stifle a yawn as you try to focus on your next appointment. It shouldn’t be too difficult, but then again nothing was very easy for you when you were fighting with your wife. You could name fewer than half a dozen times that you disagreed enough to avoid one another for any period of time. You sigh at the thought and push your way through the treatment area door so you can head up to your office. Your assistant is still taking a history so you probably have time to drop your coffee off at your desk and delay the inevitable. 

You slouch in your seat in front of your computer and stare at the screen without really seeing it. You ignore the glare and the schedule in front of you as you consider how you could have gone about this differently. 

You loved your wife. That wasn’t even a question. 

The real question that you’ve been wrestling with for years was far less straightforward. Most of the time you tricked yourself into not thinking too much about the risks associated with Wanda’s work, but incidences like a few nights ago caused your anxiety to ramp up. You think about Wanda’s reassurance that everything will be fine, and you’re honestly sick of hearing it.

You’re sick of trying to believe it. 

Maybe it had worked when you first met her because you didn’t know any better. You hadn’t gone through everything you have now. You’d seen and experienced too much of the collateral damage that came with being with Wanda, and now you were just tired.

You don’t get to dwell on this as your phone goes off and you’re being summoned for your appointment. 

You’ll think about this later. After all, you’re not sure that you’ll be seeing your wife tonight. 

Wanda had made the uncharacteristic decision to wander downtown among the bustling city life for her walk with Rogue. Not only had she wanted to be distracted, but she hadn’t wanted to be alone. She knew her mind would wander too much if she went on a hike or anywhere more secluded than where she was now. She was wearing her favorite blonde wig and sunglasses that covered most, but not all, of her injury.

Her first stop after she’d found parking was a pet store. She’d found the closest thing to the food you had for Rogue at home, but she’d been unable to buy it without a prescription. She’d only considered bothering you for one for a millisecond before she saw an entire shelf of human grade dog food as she went to put up the bag she’d chosen. She eyes the boxes carefully and realizes she’d basically be feeding Rogue soup, stew, or some other wet food. This was too messy for right now, so she just grabbed a bright blue bag of kibble that had salmon in it. Rogue loved salmon which you learned after he’d stolen an entire fillet from the kitchen counter when you had your back turned. This thought reminds her of the only real requirement you had for your dogs’ food. 

Something about avoiding grain-free. She couldn’t manage to remember the reason at the moment, but that mattered little as Rogue started to whine and nudge her hand with his nose in excitement. She decides to focus on him for now and hurries to check out. She’s going to try and focus on him today instead of herself if at all possible. 

This is how she found herself sitting in a fairly crowded park with a bag filled with dog food, two new bowls, doggy bags, and jerky treats. Rogue had been good about wandering around so far, but Wanda knew it was never a bad idea to have treats when she took him on walks. He was sometimes triggered by someone running or something too loud, and the only way she’d ever been able to snap him out of his fear was with food or cuddles. 

“Sorry for the delay, bud.” 

Rogue didn’t seem to mind as he scarfs down his new food with gusto. She just rolls her eyes before pouring some water into the spare bowl with a sigh. She glances around behind the cover of her sunglasses and people watches for a few minutes. She follows a cyclist down their path toward the lake and to the gardens beyond before her attention is stolen by a loud squeal. She looks around for the source and nearly melts at the sight of a child, probably no older than 2 or 3, smiling widely as she reaches up for her father. 

She jumps excitedly and Wanda watches as the man leans over and hoists her up high in the air. The squealing resumes as the toddler is spun around under the watchful eye of a brunette who’s following the duo with a stroller in one hand and a purse in another. Wanda feels a surprising pang of envy at the sight, and has to look away before she makes a face that might be misunderstood. She reaches out for her dog who’s now sitting beside her as he does his own survey of their surroundings. He’s panting as he stands up seemingly ready to continue walking, and Wanda just sighs in defeat. She packs up the mess before slowly getting to her feet with a slight grimace. Her pain meds have kicked in, but her side still aches with too much movement. 

She’s probably going to regret this outing later, but for now she’s just going to use it to forget. 

In the few minutes it takes to walk down to the lake, Wanda’s mind has already begun to wander back to you. 

She follows dutifully as Rogue leads them around the water past groups of sunbathers and families having picnics. She only has to slow him down once when he starts to pull at the gates of the flower garden. She knows that she shouldn’t go in there since he’ll try to dig something up, but there isn’t a sign that says ‘no dogs’ so she doesn’t fight him. 

As she follows her dog as he explores the grounds, Wanda thinks about to the last time when she truly felt free of responsibility. 

Was it when she was in elementary school and she didn’t know what her dad did for a living? Or was it after, in middle school when she learned about the family business, but still had no idea that she was going to be the one to take it over? She had always assumed it would be her brother. That he would be mentored by their father until he retired.

She’d never expected to be orphaned and then thrown into everything. 

Sometimes she was still surprised that she hadn’t run the business into the ground. 

She wonders what her life would be like if that had happened.

Would she have still met you, or would her life have gone in a completely different direction? Maybe she would have had to flee and start all over with her brother.

Wanda hisses when Rogue yanks on his leash at the sight of another dog. She’s quick to redirect his attention and tell him to sit until they walk past. She gives him a treat before making a turn into what looks like a sea of flower beds. 

“Behave.” 

Rogue already has his nose in the dirt of one of the rose beds, and Wanda sighs in defeat. 

“Rogue no. Come on.” 

The dog whines but he continues on his way without additional protest. Wanda lets him wander around for a bit longer until she needs to takes a break. She needs to sit down and the first place she finds is luckily in the shade. She’s exhausted from her poor night’s sleep and pain, but she still doesn’t want to go home yet. Or rather to the compound. 

She startles when Rogue jumps up to sit beside her on the bench, but she’s too tired to tell him to get back down. He luckily just sits down and pants as she closes her eyes and leans back against the bench. She grimaces when her shoulder hits something hard, and she turns to investigate, but she stops short. 

“Rogue no!” 

Her shepherd’s mouth is already closing around a colorful tall flower with so many petals it’s ridiculous. The pink scatters but a fair amount disappear into Rogue’s mouth as he sucks them down like he’s starving. Wanda stands up quickly and ignores her body’s protests as she quickly yanks Rogue away from the flowers. Wanda curses under her breath as she glances back at the ruined few flowers whose petals have fallen onto the bench. It’s only as Wanda traces their path and considers sweeping them away that she spots the plaque. This is what she must have been leaning again since the rectangular metal sign had raised letters that she definitely felt digging into her skin. 

When she sees what it says; however, she stops breathing. 

Foxglove (digitalis purpurea)

She’s been married to you long enough to have a running list of things that are toxic to pets. The most common ones that she can never forget are onions, garlic, grapes, and dark chocolate.

Some are more regional toxins such as a type of weed you told her about because you found the name entertaining. 

Then there was Foxglove: a cardiotoxic plant. 

Wanda quickly turns to Rogue when she realizes he’s still chewing, and she drops to her knees so quickly she shocks them both. 

“Rogue, open your mouth. Spit it out now!” 

Wanda wrenches open the shepherd’s mouth and he nearly bites her in his surprise, but Wanda grabs his tongue and does her best to grab the remaining soggy petals that she sees. She grimaces and then cringes when Rogue starts to gag and even more saliva and macerated petals fall into her hands or on the ground. She looks to the small pile on the ground knowing that it isn’t nearly all of them, and she curses under her breath before standing up. 

She was already sweaty, but now she’s also shaking as she hurries to the closest exit while reaching for her phone. She can’t remember where the closest emergency vet is, and despite not being ready to talk to you, she doesn’t hesitate to call your number.

You’re in the middle of an appointment so you aren’t able to answer your phone. You don’t even hear it vibrate as you examine a dog that weighs nearly as much as you do. Well at least you’re trying to, but it’s difficult given that he’s just walking around in circles and pushing you around with his massive body. 

“Do you think you could hold his leash while I listen to him?” 

When you don’t answer your phone for a second time Wanda leaves a quick message before she calls Steve. 

She is probably about a twenty-minute walk from the car and she’s not sure how long it will take to get to the ER. She’s panicking because she can’t remember how long it takes for signs to show up after eating the flower, but the fact that it causes heart problems is enough to nearly send her into a panic attack. 

“Hey Wanda.” 

Wanda barely greets her friend as she tries to explain what happened while she leads Rogue out of the park. He doesn’t understand her urgency, but luckily he’s keeping up with her as she rushes to get them to the car. 

“Steve. Where are you right now?” 

When he tells her that he’s about an hour away with Bucky, Wanda curses under her breath. She grows tense and ditches the bag from the pet store on a nearby bench. It’s slowing her down and it seems like she needs to hurry up. 

“Can you look up the closest ER clinic for me please?” 

By the time Wanda gets Rogue to the car, he still seems fine, but she doesn’t waste any time heading toward the hospital. It’s about a 15-minute drive, and Wanda makes it there in 10. She’s so worried about getting Rogue taken care of that she doesn’t notice how his demeanor changes immediately when he realizes where they are. He digs his heels in and she practically has to drag him through the front doors.

“I know, Rogue. I’m sorry, but this is on you, bud.” 

It’s not until she’s facing a receptionist that she realizes that she just walked in here without a plan. She is luckily still wearing her sunglasses, but she nearly says her real name as she speaks up. 

“Hi, my dog ate almost an entire foxglove plant about 45 minutes ago.” 

The subtle widening of the brunette’s eyes confirms Wanda’s fears and she barely resists the urge to throw Rogue’s leash at her when she simply nods. 

“Okay, can you tell me your name and your dog’s name? I’ll call someone up to triage him.” 

Wanda gives them her fake name which luckily matches the credit card she has on her before she turns her attention to Rogue. He’s tense and his gaze is darting around the room at any sign of movement. When he sees someone come out from the back and head towards them, he somehow grows even stiffer. His ears fold back and he steps back immediately. The woman in scrubs seems to understand, and she just offers Wanda a smile before gesturing toward the scale along the wall behind her. 

“Hi, my name’s Antonia. Can we see if he’ll let us get his weight?” 

Wanda immediately regrets tossing the treats she’d bought because those would have helped a lot. She walks with Rogue to the scale, but he steps over it twice, avoiding it as best he can before Wanda has to bodily lift him onto it. She’d usually be more patient, but time is of the essence and this is likely important. 

Once Rogue jumps off the scale he steps behind Wanda’s legs and tries to hide when Antonia reaches out her hand. 

“92lbs, great. Now I’ll borrow him so a doctor can examine him and try to induce vomiting. Is that okay?” 

That truly is the million-dollar question. As soon as Wanda nods and tries to step out of the way when she hands over the leash to the brunette, Rogue begins to try and pull away. He starts to thrash his head and whine in an attempt to get free. Wanda hates that she didn’t have time to ease him into this, but this wasn’t something that she could have planned. 

She does her best to try to calm him, but he must know that he’s going to be taken away and he doesn’t do well with strangers. She reaches out for him to keep him from getting out of his collar, and as soon as her hands are on his back he starts to cry out in distress as he bucks against her hold. 

“Rogue, hey, it’s okay. Rogue, look at me.” 

She reaches out for her dog’s face and turns him toward her with as reassuring smile as she can manage. He’s panting and his hot breath is fogging up her glasses, but she keeps them on as she scratches his ears and kisses the side of his head. 

“I’m sorry, I know you hate being here, but they’re going to help you okay? You need to behave.” 

Almost as if he knows what Wanda’s saying, Rogue whines in protest before he throws out his tongue and manages to hit her injured cheek. She cringes but doesn’t hesitate to pull him close so she can whisper in his ear.

“I love you my sweet boy. I’ll be here waiting for you.” 

Wanda stands up and when Rogue immediately starts to look around frantically, she grabs his leash with a small smile as she turns toward the very patient tech. 

“I’ll pretend like I’m going with you, if that’s okay?” 

The brunette hesitates but she second guesses it as she just nods and leads the way. She scans an ID badge and opens the door for Wanda to walk through. Rogue unsurprisingly isn’t very willing to walk through, but a firm tug and another whispered reassurance is enough to get him through the door.

Wanda tries to ignore the multiple people, at least two doctors, in the room and the pets they’re looking at. She doesn’t make eye contact as she holds out Rogue’s leash and starts to sneak out. Rogue doesn’t catch on immediately, but then he spins around and lunges as he tries to follow her. He nearly takes the tech’s arm off, and his anxious cries make Wanda tear up. She hates to leave him here, but he needs to be treated by someone, and you weren’t available. 

Wanda’s hand finds the door handle, and she retreats before Rogue can get too worked up. She holds up a hand to him and speaks in a tone that he recognizes but only partially acknowledges in his heightened state of anxiety.

“Settle. I’ll be back. I promise.”

Wanda ducks out before she can second guess her decision. She forces herself to walk away despite how hearing her dog cry makes her want to cry too. She goes back to the desk because she’s sure there’s paperwork to fill out. After that’s done, she’s told that she should get an update as soon as a doctor looks at Rogue. She just nods before retreating to a secluded corner of the waiting room. She sits in the sun despite being hot because it’s the only way she can justifying keeping her glasses on. She takes them off briefly to clean them, but she doesn’t dare look around before slipping them back on.

She pulls her phone out again before trying to call you again. 

“Hi, you’ve reached Y/N. Leave a message.”

Wanda sighs in exhaustion, annoyance, and defeat before she leaves you a slightly passive aggressive message. 

“Y/n. I’m at the emergency vet on the East side with Rogue. Call me back when you get a chance.”

You get a moment to breathe about an hour later, and at this point Wanda has been briefed on Rogue’s progress, or lack of so far. You’ve had a hectic afternoon and you only just get to grab your phone when someone else pulls your attention away. You drop it back into your pocket to address the possible emergency that’s waiting in treatment. You haven’t even gotten to eat lunch yet, but the presence of a vomiting dog luckily helps curb your appetite. 

Wanda’s sitting motionless as she listens to a doctor tell her about Rogue’s reluctance or simply failure to vomit. 

“If we can’t get him to vomit, we can administer activated charcoal to try and neutralize the toxin. The problem is…” 

Dr. Cohen briefly considers how difficult it was to give Rogue his injection of apomorphine. He was still very stressed and he attempted to get away from anyone who tried to touch him. He became an almost 100lbs bucking bronco and not only was this dangerous to everyone involved, but it was going to make treating him impossible. 

She recognized the name that Wanda signed in under, but she’s never met you so she’s unsure of what you look like. Since time is not on her side, or Rogue’s, she decides to cut to the chase.

“Are you Dr. Y/l/n? I saw the name you checked in under.” 

Wanda seems a little surprised by this question and she looks up at the blonde before shaking her head. She turns away because she can feel her face aching and she’s suddenly self-conscious about it again. She only briefly considered what people must think of her coming in here with her sunglasses on. Either she’s under the influence, or she’s hiding something. 

“No, that’s my wife. Sorry, that would probably make everything easier to explain.” 

Wanda offers a self-deprecating smile and luckily it seems to move things along. The doctor smiles back before she shakes her head despite her response.

“No that’s okay. I was just curious because Rogue’s not letting us put an IV catheter in and that will be important for what we need to do.” 

Dr. Cohen explains how foxglove causes GI symptoms such as vomiting and diarrhea, but it can also cause a slow heart rate, arrythmias, and even death if it’s not treated promptly or aggressively. Since Rogue didn’t vomit, this makes things a bit more complicated, and higher risk. Wanda feels herself stiffen at the idea of her dog getting so sick and having to stay here overnight, but she pushes this aside. She’ll do whatever is necessary for him to be okay. She doesn’t care how much it costs or how long he needs to stay here. Although she knows that he’ll hate it. 

“Typically, if we can’t place a catheter while they’re awake, we would sedate them. However, given what Rogue ate we don’t want to do anything to lower his heart rate if at all possible.”

Wanda just nods in understanding before she pictures her scared dog not letting anyone touch him. She isn’t sure he’s ever had to be hospitalized, certainly not since they rescued him, so she’s sure his vet experience was limited. 

She takes a deep breath as she tries to push aside her terror at the guarded prognosis she’s been given, and focus on the now. 

“Okay, that makes sense. Can I do anything to help?” 

Dr. Cohen hesitates because what she’s going to ask is unconventional, but she was hoping that Wanda was a vet. The fact that she’s married to one at least suggests that she might understand protocols and how sometimes their goals and patient compliance don’t always align. 

“I shouldn’t be asking, but do you think he would be calmer if you were in the room while we tried to place the catheter?”

Wanda didn’t answer immediately because although she was sure that she could calm her dog down, she wasn’t sure if it would be enough. She wanted to try and help though so she nods before standing up and following the doctor back to the treatment area. 

“Okay, let’s give it a shot.” 

Wanda immediately realizes how much the small team of techs have tried when she arrives to see her dog standing as far away from the duo as his leash would allow. They had different treats, an e collar, a muzzle, and what must be catheters and tape scattered around the floor. Wanda doesn’t have time to ask where they’d like to start before Rogue spots her and comes running for her. He barrels into her and she grimaces when he jumps up on her and bats at her with his paws. She swallows a curse when her side spasms before she shoots Rogue a glare he doesn’t see. 

“Rogue, sit down.” 

It takes him a couple of seconds to comply in his excitement, but he sits in front of her and pants happily as he tries to ignore everyone else’s existence. She looks down to him and holds out her hand with a small smile. 

“Lie down. Wait.” 

Rogue listens before Wanda turns towards the techs and Dr. Cohen who are standing by watching.

“How would you like to do this?” 

After slathering a tongue depressor with squeeze cheese and offering it to Rogue to gauge his interest, Wanda reluctantly takes a muzzle that has some cheese spread across it. She was told that her involvement with this required extra precautions, and although she’s fairly certain that Rogue won’t bite her, she doesn’t have the energy to argue. She also doesn’t want to drag this out. 

“Here, Rogue, want some more?” 

It takes him a few seconds to fall for it, but when he does, he has cheese on his face and Wanda can move the straps behind his head and secure it. She tries to ignore how everyone is just watching her, and she speaks only to Rogue. 

“Alright, bud I’m going to buckle this and it might make a loud noise. “

As predicted Rogue flinches a little but Wanda scratches his head causing him to look up at her between his furious licking. She keeps petting him as she looks to the two techs that have their supplies in hand. 

“Tell me where I need to be so I’m not in your way.” 

As Dr. Cohen watches her technicians get on their knees beside Rogue and his mom, she’s surprised by how knowledgeable the blonde seems to be. She figures it must come from being married to a vet, but she didn’t seem to trip up at all with this process. She wonders if Rogue’s had to be hospitalized before, but she realizes it doesn’t really matter. He obviously trusts the blonde, and he’s already getting his catheter wrapped as Wanda holds him around his neck and distracts him with cheese and kisses. 

Once they’re finished and Rogue’s eaten all of his cheese, he stands up quickly. He shakes out his leg with the catheter briefly but he doesn’t try to go for it. Wanda keeps scratching him before her hand goes to the buckle behind his head. She turns to Dr. Cohen with a look that she can’t decipher past her glasses.

“Can I take this off?” 

Rogue doesn’t seem too bothered by it, but that’s likely because his mom is nearby. She is about to nod, but she stops short as she spots the cone that’s still lying on the floor.

“Yes, but we’ll need to put a cone on so he doesn’t chew at his catheter.” 

Also so he doesn’t bite us when you leave. Dr. Cohen doesn’t say this, but she’d be naïve to think that Wanda doesn’t recognize this. 

Still, the blonde removes his muzzle before reaching out for the e collar. Rogue obviously knows what’s about to happen, and he starts before taking a step behind his mom. 

“Rogue, close your eyes. Bedtime.” 

Rogue immediately falls on his side and covers his eyes as he pretends to sleep. Wanda sighs in defeat and she rolls her eyes when she realizes this won’t work. She turns behind her to get a treat that she can use to lure him. 

“You’re too smart, Rogue, but luckily you’re very food motivated.” 

And dumb enough to eat a poisonous flower. 

Rogue stands up when Wanda waves a treat in his face, and she tells him to sit again before holding up both the cone and the treat. 

“Wait. No wait.” 

Rogue lets her put the cone over his head before he lunges for the treat when she tells him okay. Wanda’s fingers are spared from the savage chewing that Rogue starts while Wanda tries to secure his cone. One of the techs comes up and helps her thread some gauze through the base of it, and luckily Rogue doesn’t protest too much. 

“That went better than I thought it would.” 

Wanda just nods before she realizes what comes next. She’s going to need to leave again, and it wasn’t until now that she realized why coming to help was a bad idea. Rogue’s already up on his feet and leaning against her heavily as he watches her expectantly. He must think he can leave now that she’s back, and the idea of leaving him again makes her chest constrict. 

“It did. We’ll take him to the ICU to set him up for monitoring and fluids.” 

Wanda nods before she moves to leave them to their work. She’s a little surprised when she’s asked if she’ll walk him to his run. The idea of him fighting them every step of the way is enough for her to agree. 

“Okay, Rogue. Let’s go to your temporary digs.” 

On the way, Dr. Cohen tells her that she’ll start supportive treatments, but monitoring for the next few hours will be important. One of the techs returns with a bowl full of wet food mixed with something black, ah charcoal. Rogue sniffs at it and when it’s placed in his run he just looks at it before turning back to Wanda. She just waves him in before reaching down to take off his leash once he’s inside.

“Go on, bud. Don’t pretend like your curiosity didn’t get us into this mess.” 

Rogue allows the door to be shut behind him, and Wanda just watches as he eats from the bowl behind the window. She turns toward Dr. Cohen who’s watching Rogue eat. 

“Thank you for your help. I hope to be able to call you with good news soon.” 

Wanda just nods before thanking the doctor and heading back to the lobby. She’s exhausted and by the time she’s sitting back at the window the sun has disappeared. She reaches for her phone to call you again and when she gets your voicemail again, she’s torn between being angry and terrified. 

“Hi, you’ve reached Y/N. Leave a message.”

Wanda waits until the beep before she signs audibly. She tells you that Rogue’s eaten an entire fucking foxglove plant and that he wouldn’t vomit. He was administered charcoal and was going to be hospitalized until they could figure out how he would respond. 

She doesn’t even say bye before she hangs up and turns off her phone. She’s annoyed and saying it all out loud made her anxious again. She hates that she was so distracted, and she didn’t see Rogue try to eat the flower. She’s cursing herself for leaving the compound at all because despite wearing glasses, her headache is back and she’s so stiff she needs to lie down. That said, she doesn’t want to leave until she knows what’s going on with Rogue. She wants him to keep doing well, but she’s afraid that when her update comes in a few hours, that it won’t be good news. 

She slouches down in her chair before sighing in exhaustion. She honestly shouldn’t have even left her bed this morning. She should have tried to sleep the day away to make up for last night. She shakes her head at the idea of actually being able to sleep. She was so on edge that nothing she did would make her sleep except maybe taking far more of her pain medication than she should. 

She doesn’t realize she’s wrong until she’s awoken by someone shaking her forcefully. She sits up in surprise and turns immediately to see the technician from earlier shooting her a near frantic look. She sits up, not even noticing that her wig is a mess and her glasses are falling off her face. 

“Mrs. Y/l/n, I’m sorry to wake you, but Dr. Cohen needs to speak with you.” 

This doesn’t sound good and Wanda has to resist the urge to check the time as she stands up and nods quickly. She takes a moment to straighten her hair and put her glasses on top of her head. She may as well abandon this part of her disguise. She catches a glance at the clock and realizes it’s nearly 8pm. She’d slept for two hours. 

She doesn’t get to wonder where you were before she’s standing in front of Dr. Cohen. The blonde looks a lot less relaxed than when she last saw her, and Wanda can’t help the way that her heartrate jumps and her entire body tenses in anticipation of what she’s about to say. 

Wanda barely notices as the blonde reaches out to place a hand on her arm as her words register. 

“Rogue’s coding, we need a decision about what you want to do next.” 

Wanda sits up with a start as her eyes fly open behind her sunglasses. She looks around frantically before she sees a clock and determines that it’s only 7pm. She groans under her breath as she removes her glasses and cleans them off with her sleeve. She’d barely been able to see through Rogue’s saliva, and given that it’s dark it’s impractical to keep wearing them. Still, under the bright fluorescent lights of the lobby, Wanda can’t help but slip them back on. She’s certain of the impression she’s giving off, but she doesn’t care at the moment. She’s more concerned with keeping her identity a secret opposed to hiding her injuries. Wanda sighs in defeat as she lies back against the chair again and reaches for her phone. 

She’d turned it off and isn’t surprised to see that she’s missed some calls. 

She ignores them for the moment as she fidgets nervously in her seat. She’s wondering if her dream was a sign of what’s to come, and she can’t help but force herself to her feet to check in on her dog. 

Wanda doesn’t make it to the desk before the sound of the automatic doors opening catches her attention. It’s mostly the labored breathing that makes her turn around, and she’s equal parts relieved and annoyed to see you looking stressed and out of breath as you hurry into the lobby.

“Hey, Wands. I’m so sorry I’m so late. How is he?”

You speak low enough for no one but Wanda to hear, but she still stiffens at the sound of her name spoken in public. She shakes her head before walking toward you and leading you back to her seat. She figures you can both check in on him once you have been given a rundown of what happened. 

You seem confused but don’t argue as you sit beside Wanda and listen to her tell you about Rogue. 

“I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything since they set him up in the ICU. I’m just worried since he ate the whole thing and I was only able to get some of it out of his mouth. I just…I hate this. “

You frown in sympathy as you watch your wife tear up. You watch her push her glasses up her nose before she gives in and pushes them onto of her head. You reach out for her with a questioning look and you try not to notice how she hesitates before leaning into you. 

“I hate that I was distracted and let this happen. I should have just stayed home.” 

Wanda’s crying harder now and you wrap your arms around her shoulders as hers fall to your waist. She hugs you back despite her aching side. That reminds her she’s probably due for more meds right now. Wanda sighs as she tries not to think about her poor dog, or how she’s still upset with you after the argument you had yesterday. 

It seems like forever ago, but the irritation is still there so Wanda pulls away before she really wants to. You notice and you can’t help but sigh in defeat. There’s too much going on right now to talk about what happened last night. You reach out for Wanda’s hand and are grateful that she doesn’t tug it away. She looks down at your joined hands before meeting your gaze with a distant look. 

“It’s not your fault. Rogue can’t help himself sometimes. He’ll be well taken care of here though, and we’ll do whatever he needs.” 

Wanda simply nods as her mind wanders back to her dream. As short as it had been, it was jolting and making her consider everything she’d been told when she first got here. She thought about the forms she signed, that she’d barely read, and she sighs before turning and leaning back in her seat. 

“Do you think I should have put him as a DNR?” 

You hadn’t been expecting this question and your frown deepens as you think about it. Rogue was a young healthy dog, but if he coded it likely wouldn’t be while under anesthesia. It was during this time that CPR was the most successful, so if he happened to flat line while lying in his run, it was going to be due to the side effects of the foxglove. You hate that you can’t reassure Wanda that this won’t happen, and what’s even worse is that you won’t give Wanda a straight answer. 

“I think that it’s your choice, Wands. He’s your dog and you know him best.” 

Wanda’s tears begin to fall again and she cringes as she wipes them away. You glance at the bruising around your wife’s eye and it honestly looks much worse under this lighting. You figure that’s why she was wearing her sunglasses earlier, but maybe it was just part of her disguise. You watch as Wanda struggles to reach into her purse with trembling hands. You don’t realize what she’s looking for until you hear the sound of pills rattling. 

“Do you want help?” 

Wanda shakes her head but says nothing as she finally manages to open the bottle and takes two instead of one. You don’t comment and you wait until she’s swallowed them dry before opening your mouth. She beats you to it though as she squeezes her eyes shut and takes in a shaky breath. 

“I don’t want to lose him, Y/n. I can’t lose him.” 

You squeeze her hand again but don’t say anything as you both become lost in your thoughts. 

You imagine that Wanda must feel as lost as you would if it was Boone who had gotten himself into trouble like this. You would want to do whatever possible to help him and you wouldn’t care how much it cost. You wouldn’t want him to suffer, and you’re not sure you would have done anything differently from Wanda.

You watch as she struggles to come to terms with her dog’s mortality for so long that you don’t realize that someone’s snuck up on you. 

“You must be Dr. Y/l/n.” 

You look up to see a blonde in a white coat, and immediately you sit up in recognition. This must be Rogue’s doctor. You offer a small smile before you stand up and hold out your hand. You don’t notice Wanda jump in surprise at the new arrival, but she recovers quickly as she stands as well. She’s anxious for an update and the appearance of Rogue’s doctor means that there’s something to report. 

“Yes, but Y/n is fine. It’s nice to meet you Dr. Cohen.” 

The blonde smiles in agreement before glancing to Wanda briefly. She offers a small nod before she motions for the couple to sit down. Only you do, but it’s brief before you’re back up on your feet beside your wife. 

“You too. I have an update on Rogue.” 

The doctor begins to detail how Rogue did well for the first half hour on fluids and pain medication, but he’s since started to show signs of toxicity. He’s had some GI upset and was obviously lethargic. His ECG showed that his heart rate had dropped considerably since intake. When you hear the numbers, you try not to react especially since you notice that Wanda’s watching for your reaction. She realizes that none of this is good, but she’s just not sure how bad it is yet. Neither doctor is saying it despite her desire for them to do so.

Finally, you frown as you recall what you know about foxglove toxicity. Mild cases are treated supportively, but you’re not sure if that’s where Rogue is yet. 

“Is he starting to have arrythmias yet?” 

When the blonde nods you sigh as realization hits you. This is what you were afraid of. You turn suddenly when you feel Wanda fall into you. She doesn’t realize that she’s swayed and is struggling to keep her footing until you grab her arm. You quickly help her sit down, but she’s not aware of what you’re saying. She’s fixated on the fact that her dog is having issues with his heart.

He could die.

You sit down beside Wanda a couple of seconds later, but at this point Dr. Cohen is gone. You asked what the next move was and she explained the antibody treatment that they luckily had in hospital. It was ridiculously expensive, but you didn’t care, and you told her to do whatever she could to help Rogue. 

The bill could be as much as a car, and you’d pay for it without question. 

“Wands, hey. Can you look at me?” 

You’re on edge from the unresolved argument and trying to get through the day regardless, and that stress compounded with your worry for Rogue is making you near desperate for some relief. You still somehow wait patiently as Wanda struggles to pull herself from her spiraling. It takes a bit of coaxing, but eventually Wanda turns to you with her eyes filled with tears. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You frown and you open your mouth to tell you wife that she doesn’t have to apologize for crying. You want her to do what she has to in order to cope, but you don’t get a chance to tell her this. 

“It’s okay, yo-.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been dragging my feet. I-I know I need to—I need to get out.” 

Your jaw drops but you can’t manage a response as you fail to process what Wanda’s talking about. Luckily she doesn’t leave you hanging for long. 

She sits up and takes a deep breath before she squeezes your hand tightly. You nearly flinch but instead you meet your wife’s troubled gaze. 

“I’m just scared about what will happen if I leave. What you’ll think of just me, but that’s…it’s selfish of me. I can’t let you be scared for me every day. That’s not fair.” 

You hesitate because despite this being what you wanted to hear last night and this morning, you’re not sure why Wanda’s brought it up now. You struggle to find words and you’re still floundering when Wanda turns fully to face you. You focus on her tear-stained cheeks and the bruises that are faintly visible beneath her make up. She gestures to her face when she realizes what you’re looking at with an exasperated sigh. Luckily you can tell that she’s not upset with you. 

“I mean look at me. This hurts like a bitch, but the worst part is that I can’t promise…I can’t guaranetee it won’t happen again. I don’t…” 

Wanda trails off and you try to say something but you only manage a couple of words before Wanda keeps going. You realize that she has a lot to get off her chest and she wants to do it all at once. You don’t argue despite feeling that this isn’t the best place. That said, sometimes you can’t really predict when these things will happen. 

“I don’t--.” 

“I don’t want to fight with you. No-not now, or ever, but especially not when Rogue might…when he might-.”

You open your arms almost before Wanda falls into you with a barely stifled sob. You don’t bother looking around because you don’t really care if anyone’s watching you. You don’t want to make Wanda feel any worse than she already does. You’d rather figure out a way to make her feel better, but since there’s not much you can do about Rogue right now, you figure hearing her out is best you can do right now. You hold your wife tightly as she turns to whisper in your ear. You stiffen at what she says before you let out a heavy, relieved sigh. 

“I just want us to be a family. Y-you, me, the fur babies, and a human one eventually.” 

You take a moment to sort through your many thoughts before you land on what you eventually say. You squeeze your wife one more time before you pull back so you can meet her gaze. You hate to see her cry, and you hate even more that you’re not sure you can do anything about it.

“I appreciate you saying all of that, Wanda, but we don’t need to worry about that now. Let’s focus on Rogue, and revisit this when he’s home recovering. Okay?”

Wanda wants to argue because she wants your forgiveness so badly. She doesn’t want to be at odds with you right now, but she knows better than to believe that she should always get what she wants. She just nods before she looks back up only to realize that Rogue’s doctor had left. She turns to you in confusion, and you prepare to fill in the gaps. 

“Where’d--? What did you tell her to do?” 

Dr. Cohen returns to the ICU in a noticeably better mood than when she left a few minutes ago. She glances to Rogue who’s still lying on his side as he had been for the past twenty minutes. She sighs before turning to Antonia with a small smile. 

“We’re going to start him on the antibody therapy. Can you go grab it while I calculate the dose?” 

Antonia only nods before she jumps up and heads for the pharmacy to grab the drug. She’s glad that Rogue’s parents were able to afford this treatment because watching the shepherd’s heartrate drop over the past hour had been discouraging to say the least. The terrified dog had gone from sitting in the far corner of his run to pacing as he had vomited and had diarrhea, before he laid down and seemed to fall asleep. After cleaning him up a little, which he barely even flinched at, the shepherd practically collapsed in the middle of his run and stayed there. 

She hopes that he responds well to the therapy. She’s seen dogs die from ingesting a single petal, let alone an entire flower…

It’s not until 10pm that you finally get Wanda to come home with you. After talking to Dr. Cohen once more after Rogue was started on the antibody treatment, you’re both told that it could take him hours to respond positively. They had approval to give another dose if necessary, and after being reassured that she’d receive a call about any negative changes, Wanda’s walking arm in arm out to the parking lot with you. 

As soon as you step onto the sidewalk you feel Wanda sigh heavily as she practically stumbles to her car. She must be exhausted. You are and you only worked all day. You didn’t stress for the entire day like she did. You catch her hand before she can retreat to her car and drive herself home. 

“Let’s carpool, okay? I can come back for my car once we pick up Rogue.” 

Wanda doesn’t hesitate as she reaches into her pocket and hands over her keys. You unlock the door and watch as she collapses into her seat before you walk over to the driver’s side. You glance back toward the hospital with a sigh before you take a fortifying breath for the trip home. 

You’re glad that Bucky’s already dropped off Boone when you arrive because that’s one less thing to worry about. You greet your dog with muted enthusiasm as you watch Wanda wander aimlessly into the house. She goes to stand in the living room before she starts to look around with a frown.

“Fletcher?” 

You just look to the stairs where you hear muted footsteps, and you can’t help but smile when you see your wife’s cat rush toward her. Wanda doesn’t react to her immediately since she still semes dazed, but eventually Fletcher makes her presence more obvious. She meows loudly before reaching up toward Wanda with searching eyes. Wanda reaches down easily and lifts her cat into her arms with a sigh. 

You just watch as she cuddles with her cat for nearly a minute before deciding that it’s time to eat something. You’d been busy all day, and hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. You’re certain that Wanda’s in the same boat, so as she seeks comfort in her cat’s presence, you and Boone head to the kitchen. 

It’s only a few minutes later that Wanda seems to realize that you’ve left her, and she wanders over to watch you cook. She’s so exhausted she thinks that if she sits down, she’ll pass out straight away. For this reason, she’s probably going to need to eat standing up, but she can’t help but feel a little uneasy about what happens next.

You two are both back home after a long exhausting day, and the last time you spoke in the house was to have an argument. Wanda barely addressed the issue at the hospital, but as she watches you heat something on the stove, she’s worried she’ll need to pick up where she left off. Otherwise, you both will be in for an uncomfortable night. 

She doesn’t realize that you’re thinking the exact opposite as you stir the soup in the pot in front of you. You don’t want to focus on your argument right now. Not when you know that Wanda’s mind is all over the place, and she’s distressed enough to breakdown in public. You appreciate what she said earlier, but you don’t want her to make such as important decision under duress, only to regret it later. 

You turn around to grab two bowls from the cabinet, and you pause just long enough to see that your wife really does look stressed. Stressed and exhausted. You glance to Boone who is greeting his sister as she finally decides that she’s finished being cuddled. This inevitably makes you think about Rogue and how although he doesn’t seek out her attention, he’s been a good brother to Fletcher. 

Thoughts of your pets makes you sigh slightly, and by the time you come back to the counter where Wanda’s standing with dinner, you decided to get right to it. 

“I don’t want us to stress about anything tonight except Rogue. We can worry about everything else later, if that doesn’t seem unreasonable? I just think it will be easier…for both of us.” 

You turn away before Wanda can respond, but when you return with spoons for you two, you see her frowning. Wanda’s deep in thought and she’s trying to push down her urge to resolve this argument now. She knows that you’re right about this though since every time she tries to think about the future she can’t help but wonder if Rogue will be in it. 

Finally she sighs in defeat as she accepts a spoon and sits down in the chair she’s just been standing behind. She nods before watching as you move to sit beside her. There’s so much she wants to say to you, but right now she’s going to do as you ask and try not to worry too much about what’s on her mind. 

“Okay. Until Rogue comes home then.” 

You offer her a smile before the two of you begin dinner in companionable silence. 

Rogue’s tail thumps against the papery pads beneath him as he blinks away some of his exhaustion. He’s not sure how long he’s been here in this run, but it feels like it’s been days since he saw his mom. Sure his perception of time was off from his frequent naps, and he didn’t feel well at all, but he was certain it had been too long since he was dropped off here. 

He hasn’t tried to stand in a while. His entire body feels too weak, and the thought of mustering up the energy to even roll over made him nauseous. He glances out of his run to see the same blob of purple that has been following him since he got here. His vision is a little blurry, but the tech in purple scrubs who’s been assigned to him is always nearby. He missed the last check in when he was asleep, so he’s surprised when she comes up to his run a little bit later with another bag of fluids, a couple of syringes, and that dreaded thermometer. 

He hated the thermometer. 

“Hi Rogue. Are you feeling any better?” 

Antonia has been watching his vitals carefully and things seem to be improving slowly but surely. Since starting the antibody therapy, Rogue’s heart rate has increased by ten beats per minute and his arrythmias were less frequent. Still, he was very weak and had spent most of the time sleeping. His fluids kept him hydrated when he started to vomit, and the pain medication helped him feel a bit better. The anti-nausea medication that had been given an hour ago was still taking time to kick in, or at least it felt like it. 

The antibody therapy was administered every 12 hours, so Rogue had about 10 to show enough improvement to go without another dose. Antonia is still a little amazed at how much the treatment costs, but she’s not going to get too hung up on it. She’s just glad that Rogue’s family is able to pay for it. She just hopes that it won’t be in vain. 

She saves the task of taking Rogue’s temperature for last because he hates it. Even in his sleep he seems to jump in surprise, and the couple of times he’s been awake he’s whined. Most of the time he’s been too weak to do anything else, but this time he actually yelps and his head, cone and all, shoots upright in protest. 

“Sorry, bud. This is important.” 

Rogue just grumbles in response before he keeps trying to shift. He manages to almost sit upright before he flops back down in exhaustion. He doesn’t completely fall back though as Antonia uses her free hand to steady him, and only a few seconds later, both of them are helping him sit upright. 

“Do you want to sit up? Here.” 

Antonia grabs Rogue’s shoulders and helps him rotate so he’s upright before moving his lower half to follow. She pushes him a bit against the side of his run so he doesn’t have to hold himself up. She reaches out to pet him before she gathers up her supplies and stands up to head out.

“Also, no fever, so that’s good!”

Rogue doesn’t look enthused from where he’s propped up against his blanket, and he just stares at her blankly.

Antonia feels bad for him, so she decides to leave him be. Although it’s not as obvious given how sedate he is, she tries to keep in mind that he’s a highly anxious dog. For this reason, she doesn’t linger, and she leaves him with water, replaced pads on top of his blankets, and restarts his fluids. She returns to the tech station to update Rogue’s chart just in time for the clock to strike midnight. 

Her shift ends at 5am, and she’s hoping that Rogue will show more improvement by then. She glances at the dog whose eyes are now closed and sighs at she returns her attention to the screen in front of her.

She’ll just have to wait to find out. 

Surprisingly, the most awkward part of the night for Wanda was not crying in the middle of an ER clinic in front of her dog’s doctor. Instead, it was the decision of where to sleep that night, or rather whether or not it would be appropriate to sleep in bed beside her wife. She had gotten ready for bed quickly given the late hour, and changed her clothes before she realized that you were in the room with her doing the same. You seemed a little less on edge about all of this, or you were just hiding it well, while Wanda was exhausted and a ball of tightly wound nerves. She hesitated long enough for you to understand her dilemma, but you only got into bed before pulling the covers back enough for the invitation to be clear. 

“Come on, Wands. We need sleep. I’m sure you’re more tired than I am, and I’m close to passing out.” 

Wanda’s skeptical look disappears before you notice it, and she just nods before she tries not to feel weird about being in bed with you. In the past, the two of you rarely argued for longer than a day, which meant most of the time you didn’t have to worry about going to sleep angry. She didn’t have to worry about not being able to sleep due to being upset with you, and she didn’t have to wonder if you were upset with her. 

As of now, she really couldn’t tell and that was adding to her stress. She was considering if she should have just slept at the compound again when you reach out for her. You wrap your arms around her waist and sigh tiredly before shooting your wife a worried look. 

“I’m sorry you’re so stressed and worried about Rogue. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you today.” 

Wanda hears that unsaid apology behind your words and she sighs too as she turns to face you. She feels a slight pinch in her side and the grimace makes her head ache, but she ignores it for now. She focuses on you and how your concern becomes a contrite expression before her eyes. She watches you fidget a bit before planting a kiss on the exposed skin of her shoulder. 

“I’m sorry about how I approached the conversation of your retirement. I shouldn’t have hit you with it so soon after being hurt…while you’re still hurt. I was scared and that made me selfish which wasn’t fair to you.” 

Your head dips down as you try to hide your face, but Wanda reaches out to catch your chin. She’s frowning but she’s not even really sure if it’s more because of her own actions or yours at this point. Everything is so jumbled in her head right now that all she can offer you is a small smile. 

“Honestly, detka, it’s your turn to be selfish given how long I have been. We’ll have a real discussion about what quitting would look like for us, but as you said, let’s just try and rest tonight. Okay?” 

You can only nod in response before you settle in next to your wife. It’s nearly midnight, and you both have no idea what awaits you tomorrow.   

The first time Rogue stands up after his treatment, he nearly falls over. He’s very wobbly and it’s very disorienting trying to balance himself, let alone walk with one paw in front of the other. He only makes it a couple of steps out of his run before he falls to the ground with a whine. It’s at this time that his walk outside is aborted and he’s steered back into his run by two techs. 

Dr. Audrey Cohen stands by and observes Rogue as she looks at all of his vitals throughout the night. He’s done surprisingly well and his ECG has almost completely normalized. The occasional dropped beat is the only abnormality, and now of course, she realizes ataxia. That said, it’s hard to say how long this has been present since this is the first time they’ve attempted to take him outside. He has a urinary catheter in and they’ve minimized moving him since he was so critical. He’s not doing great by any means, but seeing him have the drive to at least try and stand and walk is encouraging. 

Audrey looks at the time before considering how she’ll report all of this to his parents after rounds. She figures that he has a good chance of recovering, but the bloodwork that she’s about to run may tell her whether or not another dose of the Digoxin F-ab is warranted. 

She waits until Antonia is finished collecting his blood before speaking up. 

“I’m impressed with how well he’s doing. Maybe after talking about his case at rounds, we’ll decide if he need another dose.” 

Antonia turns to her with a small smile before nodding as she stands after collecting her samples. She’s been working as an ICU tech for nearly 8 years, and she’s closing in on her self-imposed deadline to go to vet school. She’s applied for the current cycle, but she won’t hear back for a few months. She’s anxious of course, but she’s also grateful that her job offers her ample opportunities to continue learning. Especially rounds. 

Typically, there are rounds between the technicians and then the doctors, but rarely do they do rounds together, unless it’s one on one when transferring care. Since expressing her interest in vet school a couple of years ago, she’s been allowed to sit in on doctors rounds whenever they have enough coverage. 

“Sounds great. I’ll be ready. I only have Humphrey’s treatments to finish.”  

When you and Wanda wake up, you realize that the distance you’d put between the two of you did not last through the night. You honestly don’t mind because it’s nice to sleep beside her again after the argument you’d had. That said, you realize very quickly that your hand is in the wrong place. 

Wanda woke up a while ago, but she hadn’t been able to force herself to do anything but lie beside you. She was still exhausted after yesterday, and she didn’t want to spoil the peace that she’d somehow managed to find during the night. 

Well, the source or the cause isn’t exactly a surprise to her. She has always slept better when you were beside her, but she’d been woken up by the pain in her side. The ache from her still healing wound forced her into consciousness and she had to stop herself from immediately moving away from your touch. 

She did a great job up until the pressure became unbearable when you tried to pull her closer as you slept. She hisses under her breath, and she hears you curse before you pull back quickly.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” 

Wanda’s already nodding despite her grimace as she turns away from you with a sigh. She stares at the ceiling for a moment before turning to face you. She sees your worried expression and quickly offers you reassurance that she’s fine. Well, she could feel better, but her side doesn’t even hurt anymore now that there’s nothing touching it but her clothing.

“It’s okay, it was mostly uncomfortable. It’s time for my next dose of pain medication though.” 

Wanda places her hands on the mattress preparing herself to sit up and grab her medication from the bathroom, but you beat her to it. You nearly fly off the bed as you hurry to grab what Wanda needs. The redhead opens her mouth to protest, but she falls short when her phone starts vibrating on the bedside table. 

“I can get them. I’ll be right back.” 

Wanda reaches out for her phone and frowns when she doesn’t recognize the number. She figures that whoever is calling her before 9 in the morning must have something important to tell her. She just hopes that it’s not work. 

“Hello?” 

Audrey was grateful that she was able to call Rogue’s moms with relatively good news. His bloodwork looked near perfect, and a second attempt to get him outside after rounds was more successful than the first. He was far more willing to follow someone outside until he realized that he wasn’t actually getting to leave. Getting him back into the building was difficult, but luckily Audrey’s plan was to get him out within the next 24 – 48 hours. Max 72, if she had her way. 

She’d decided to call the number that was given to them at check in despite knowing it wasn’t the vet parent. She figured that it was the right thing to do given that she’d brought the dog in. If she was lucky, you’d be around to listen in as well. 

“Hi, this is Dr. Cohen. I’m calling about Rogue.” 

There’s a pause as someone shifts in the background, something drops, and someone mutters a curse. Audrey has to remind herself to keep a straight face despite being alone in her office. A few moments later she’s nearly smiling. 

“Yes, hi. We’re both here, thank you for calling.” 

Once you’re settled beside Wanda, you both listen as Dr. Cohen relays how Rogue has done in the past 12 hours. You’re glad to hear about his progress, and you can tell that Wanda’s relieved which of course makes you happier. You both agree that one more treatment would be a good idea, and they planned to check back in later this afternoon. Depending on how he was doing, they would be able to visit him. Wanda hoped that it was a good idea. Despite wanting to see her dog she didn’t want to make his stay any more stressful by seeing him only to leave again. You’d convinced her that a visit from her would make his day, and hopefully he wouldn’t be there for too much longer anyway. 

After the call, you can tell that Wanda’s already a little bit brighter. She greets Fletcher with what the tabby deems appropriate enthusiasm, and she responds in kind by practically climbing Wanda like a tree. You stifle a laugh as you hurry to get coffee made and breakfast sorted. You feed Boone and then let him out before stepping back into the kitchen in front of the stove. 

Wanda watches as you cook her an omelet, and she laughs so hard she nearly snorts when she watches you make another smaller one that she can only imagine is for your dog. 

“For both of them, if she doesn’t touch it, Boone will happily help her.” 

Wanda isn’t surprised that Boone scarfs up his ¾ of the omelet while Fletcher sniffs her portion suspiciously. She nibbles on it before she begins to eat with more intention. It’s just eggs, a small amount of cheese, and spinach, but that’s apparently enough for the tabby. 

“Aw she loves it! How cute.” 

You smile at this before you make yourself a larger omelet and sit beside Wanda at the counter. You sigh in exhaustion as you nearly collapse into your chair. You slept well last night, you slept great honestly, but you were still worn out. You’re grateful you don’t work today and that you can focus your attention on your wife and pets.

You’re not sure if Wanda plans to work today, but the fact that it’s nearly 9 and she hasn’t touched her phone beyond that initial call from the vet gives you hope. You don’t dare ask because you don’t want to be disappointed, so you two mostly eat in silence. Wanda’s thinking about what she’ll fill her day with while she’s waiting for news of Rogue.

“Do you have any plans?” 

You’re still considering this yourself when Wanda asks you, so you shrug before mentioning all you’d come up with so far. 

“Not really. Other than getting outside at some point to enjoy the weather. What about you?” 

You wait with bated breath as Wanda shakes her head with a sigh. You noticed earlier that she hadn’t bothered with makeup today. Certainly not enough to cover up the bruise around her eye and the thin line of sutures from her surgery. It looks worse today and you frown in sympathy at the idea of Wanda being so stressed and hurt yesterday. You reach out for her hand and smile when she squeezes yours in return. 

“Not at the moment. My face hurts more today, so maybe I’ll get to take it easy.” 

You love the sound of this, and you smile widely as you consider all that you can spend the day doing. 

Despite waiting anxiously for news, the day flies by with you and Wanda spending the morning watching TV before taking a short, slow walk outside. Boone was excited to get around, and Fletcher actually tolerated her harness and leash today, at least for a bit. For the last ten minutes of the walk, unsurprisingly, Fletcher had managed to get Wanda to carry her. You find it difficult to even roll your eyes when you see how happy the pair look, and Boone keeps you plenty distracted with his antics.

After forming a small pile near the deck of the many sticks Boone decided to try and carry with him, you lead your dog back inside. It’s nearing 4 and you could use another nap, or at least a snack. Boone’s on the same page, and after getting his post-walk treat, he takes it over to his bed and lies down. You grab both your and Wanda drinks as the redhead tries to take off Fletcher’s leash. You set the two glasses on the coffee table before falling onto the couch. You stifle a yawn as you wait for Wanda to join you. 

Wanda’s just sitting down after wiping as much cat hair off her as possible when her phone rings. She starts in surprise and is about to jump back up to retrieve it from the kitchen, but you beat her to it. 

“Let me get it.” 

Wanda doesn’t argue, but she turns to watch as you walk to the kitchen and grab her phone from the counter. It’s the vet again, Wanda had saved their number after the call this morning, and you hand her the phone with a smile. 

“It’s for you.” 

TBC

taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

Masterlist

[sylvestris123]

What does the pre-Fall scene actually mean?

I’ve been thinking about that first scene, with pre-Fall Crowley. We are all swooning over how sweet and innocent Angel!Crowley is, and how smitten Aziraphale is, but on reflection there is something odd about this scene.

The action takes place before the rebellion, before the Fall, when bad things hadn’t even been invented yet. So why is Aziraphale already worried about Angel!Crowley getting into trouble for asking questions? Shouldn’t he also be a cute innocent bundle of fluff without a care in the world?

There is a meta that examines this (sorry, I can’t find it, I’m useless at this), which comes to the conclusion that Aziraphale later on is suffering from guilt (that he might have unwittingly prompted Crowley to seek answers and hence fall), but this still doesn’t explain why Aziraphale knows that asking questions might be a Bad Idea, and Angel!Crowley doesn’t. After all, Angel!Crowley has apparently been working “very closely with Upstairs”.  Shouldn’t he be a bit more clued up?

This leads me to think that there are 2 possible explanations for this.

1. Angel!Crowley has been so far out of things playing with stars that he really is clueless about everything (possible but doesn’t really match up to the Crowley that we know today).

2. This is not a true record of events.

Either: it is one of Aziraphale’s memories, but coloured by what he knows today, so the conversation that actually occurred might have been quite different. Maybe it is because of Aziraphale’s less than perfect recall, or maybe the memory was tweaked (e.g. by the Metatron) to emphasize the innocence of Angel!Crowley and the injustice of his later fall.

Or: IT NEVER EVEN HAPPENED AT ALL. Their true first meeting was as S1, on the walls of Eden, and it is all a false memory planted by the Metatron. (This could also explain why we don’t get to hear Angel!Crowley’s name. It’s not actually known, so can’t be added to the ‘memory’). Why would he do this? It could be to make Aziraphale think that Angel!Crowley was so full of joy that he should be reinstated to recapture that innocence.

There are plenty of theories about the other flashback episodes in the series, all of which could be interpreted as showing off Crowley’s 'good' side, to make the thought of his reinstatement as an angel more plausible or even necessary to right an ancient wrong.

If any or all of this is the Metatron’s doing, what is the motive? He clearly loathes Crowley. Maybe reinstatement as an angel would automatically wipe out his memories of being Crowley and all of his Earthly experience, so you would end up with a cute innocent (and ultimately useless) angel with no memories of his friendship with Aziraphale. Or perhaps it was a way to get him to come up to Heaven where he could be ambushed and imprisoned.

Or maybe the Metatron always knew that the very concept would go down like a lead balloon and that its aim was to make Aziraphale and Crowley part in such a way that they would be less likely to try to contact each other later.

There are so many pieces to this puzzle. Just when I think that a couple might go together I find others that don’t fit with the patterns already made, and which sometimes seem to belong to a different puzzle altogether. I’m sure that I already have 5 corner pieces.

[senseandaccountability]

“It takes the wrong sort to put the world right.”

A huge problem for me with the tone of the narrative is that outside a very carefully curated playthrough experience with preconceived ideas of and love for Solas, Veilguard is probably the least compassionate game I’ve played in forever, while spouting out lines about how everyone can find a new path in life because our nature isn’t written in stone, our fates are our own, as well as plenty of HR department lines about working together as a team.

“It takes the wrong sort to put the world right.” The game says that, but it definitely doesn’t mean it. At least I don’t feel it. You are so very rarely challenged in your idea of who this wrong sort is and what they could bring to the table. Davrin speaks of the Wardens recruiting at the Gallows but you meet only adorable, righteous and charming ones. The Crows aren’t the wrong sort anymore, they’re just adorably Antivan upper class. And so on and so forth. Rook certainly isn’t the wrong sort either, they’re mentally around 19 years old and stumbling their way through the world like some romance novel protag. In one of the most thematically shallow plots, Rook gets thrown into a prison of regret fit to hold a god but unlike Solas, Rook doesn’t do regrets or guilt because Rook isn’t that complex. Rook hasn’t been allowed to feel any guilt for three acts, just how are they meant to be stuck in a regret prison?  

Compare with Origins where you yourself could be just that wrong sort that would put the world right. ALL of my Origins PCs would get stuck in Solas’s prison due to the weight of their own fuckups. If not during the game events where you could make shitty moves en masse, then because of their origin stories. Brosca and Tabris would get out of there through sheer fury alone - fuck you, I am a wreck because YOU MADE ME ONE, WORLD OF THEDAS - but the nobles would stew. Amell would loop in some guilt trip regarding blood magic and Jowan and whatnot.

Compare with Origins where Loghain is a piece of shit for most of the narrative. He actively wants to kill you and your Order, it’s nothing personal (okay, a little personal) but he just needs you gone. If you want to, you can hack and slash your way through some release there and just have him executed. BUT the game also challenges you on that idea. It presents a very pragmatic alternative that comes with a very plausible downside (you lose Alistair). It presents not excuses but explanations - do with them what you will. Loghain has people in his corner through the entire trilogy, arguing his case. Cauthrien FALLS TO HER KNEES before you, pleading to spare his life. Threnn in DAI will stan him for the rest of her life. Anora tells you stories about the man behind the name.  And Arl Eamon’s world view and idea of Loghain is shown to be more than a little self-serving when faced with the politics of the Landsmeet. Things around Loghain blur. In the Ostagar DLC they allow things to blur even further when Loghain’s pragmatism is countered by Wynne’s player character-moralism (ie “someone died, it’s always wrong if someone died even if that death prevented 9000000 deaths you KILLED someone!!!!!111”). Origins tells me - or hints at - why Loghain became the wrong sort, shows me ways in which he is also the right sort and leaves me wondering about him. Because the game is gritty and dark and weird but also yes, compassionate. If you execute him, Anora will mourn him because she loves him regardless. If you have him join the Wardens she will sit with him while he recovers because he is undeniably an asshole but he’s also her father who braided her hair and showed her the world. A good narrative never, ever forgets that.  Veilguard feels so different here, maybe it's just me. I'm pretty sure I'm almost done being salty now, I just... feel a lot about narratives.

[storiesabouteli]

MotorBoy. // Elijah Hewson X Reader! (Fluff)

prompt: reader dealing with the fear of being a passenger and riding a motorcycle with Eli. (I know Eli looks like the type to stick to scooters, but to make it more believable, I tried to describe a slightly more plausible bike.)

words: 2k

  Eli's curls were disheveled, his skin slightly flushed, and he was grinning at you—a radiant, toothy smile. It was a little different from his usual one, subtle enough to go unnoticed if you weren’t paying close attention. His eyes, however, gleamed with an extra spark whenever they landed on you. Your stomach churned nervously as you took in the sight of him leaning on his motorbike, the helmet balanced on the handlebar.

 You had told him last time that you were okay with it, but despite finding the whole “bike thing” charming, you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about being on that thing yourself.

 "Everything good?" he asked, leaning closer, his fingers brushing your waist lightly before tightening in a grounding embrace. He’d greeted the table earlier, and the bar conversation had continued without much input from you—you were too fixated on the motorbike and how rash you’d been in agreeing to leave with him when he’d brought it. You nodded silently, feeling the weight of his gaze on you.

 He kissed your lips, and you slid your fingers around the nape of his neck, not in a vulgar way, but keeping him close for a few more minutes. The steady rhythm of it calmed your nerves. When he pulled away, he took a sip from your beer, ordered another for himself, and handed yours back.

 Eli seamlessly rejoined the conversation with the guys, his charisma making it effortless. You didn’t feel quite as at ease but appreciated how he made it a priority to ensure you were comfortable. His arm stayed draped around you, and whenever you spoke, even quietly, he inclined his head just slightly toward you, ensuring he caught every word. If your voice got lost in the noise, he’d answer you, even if it was just the two of you talking, and at the right moments, he would repeat what you said so the person you were speaking to could hear as well.

 You weren’t used to this—not yet. Maybe it was because your previous relationships had been disasters, but moments like these mattered to you.

 "Thanks for coming," he said later as you were watching the streetlights gleam against his leather jacket and the buckle at his waist. His hair was slightly flattened by the humidity, but he still looked so handsome.

 "I like them," you admitted, your hands trembling slightly as your voice caught in your throat. You understood his cautious tone, as if he thought you might not want to be here. But you were trying—you wanted him to like you.

 "They like you too, y’know," he replied. "I’m glad you’re feelin’ more comfortable."

 You raised your eyebrows at that, considering it. It was true—you weren’t as anxious around his friends as you had been the first time.

 "The train’s still open at this hour. You don’t have to, you see?" You hesitated, stopping in front of the motorbike. "You don’t have to go with me... I mean, I can just take the train."

 Eli shook his head, parking the bike closer to the bar and signaling to someone inside to keep an eye on it. "I’ll come back for it later. Either way, I’d have given you my helmet since yours hasn’t arrived yet. There’s no rush."

 You turned to him, still nervous. He pulled you into a hug, and you couldn’t help but smile despite yourself. "I wasn’t going to let you ride without a helmet," he said firmly. The trip was short, through familiar streets, and you knew plenty of people didn’t even bother with helmets. But you’d started insisting that he always wear one, no matter how short the ride.

 "Well, I wasn’t going to let you ride without one either," you teased, laughing against his chest. He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead and brushing your hair back from your face.

 "No rush, okay? I mean it. Worst case, I could start driving a car, huh?"

 The train ride was short enough that you didn’t bother sitting down. Eli stood close to you, his scent surrounding you in a way that felt reassuring. He was being honest with you—about everything.

 "You really bought me a helmet?" you asked, glancing up at him as the train swayed slightly. He held your waist a little tighter, keeping you steady. His curls brushed your cheek.

 "Yeah," he admitted, his voice soft. "I found one I think you’ll like. But seriously—you don’t have to do this just because I do."

 You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. Maybe there wasn’t so much to be afraid of after all.

…

 Your helmet was lavender, with subtle sparkles, and Eli had even bought a pack of stickers for you to decorate it. It was beautiful, and you genuinely liked it. You planned to make good use of it.

 “You okay, little one?” he asked after it took you a while to get on the motorbike. He’d waited patiently, not rushing you at all. He wouldn’t start the engine until you were sure you were okay with it, as promised. Resting your chin on his shoulder, clad in dark leather, you abruptly wrapped your arms around his waist, practically immobilizing him.

 He chuckled lightly, a soft, amused sound escaping through his nose. You could imagine his lopsided grin. You were holding him so tightly you were convinced he could hear your heartbeat hammering against your ribs. You also couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes.

 “Alright, take it easy,” he whispered, his voice soothing. Gently, he moved your cold hands from gripping him like a vice and slid them under his jacket so he could still steer. Your cheeks burned, but Eli seemed to find the whole thing endearing, maybe even a little funny.

 “Sorry, I think I’m ready now,” you mumbled, though your muffled tone didn’t sound entirely convincing.

 “That’s okay. I’ll go slow, I promise,” he said softly. His hands briefly rested over yours, warming them up before letting go. He narrated each step, keeping an eye on you through the rearview mirror. Your helmet sparkled, your hair peeked out messily, and he could feel your uneven breaths against his neck.

  “We don’t have to do this now, you know,” he said again, already prepared to put the bike in motion.

 “Oh, for God’s sake, just go, Eli,” you snapped, exasperated. And then the wind picked up, brushing against your face, drying your mouth. You clung to him tighter, as if that were even possible. Your arms and legs locked around his frame, and Eli seemed perfectly at ease with it.

 He didn’t drive fast—not even close. You could hear his breathing, steady and calm. Occasionally, he glanced at you in the mirror until, finally, you opened your eyes. His smile broke out immediately.

 “You good?” he asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

 You rolled your eyes a bit, and Eli laughed, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

 “Eyes on the road,” you muttered.

 “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, pretending to be all serious as he carefully obeyed. He might’ve been the only person in history worried about getting ticketed for driving too slow.

…

 You had a blue sweater that casually matched your helmet and was one of your favorites. Eli always reminded you to bring a jacket because, while it might be warm during the day, riding back on the bike at night could mean facing an unbearable wind. Yet, you often forgot, playing tough and stubborn, only to end up wrapped in his jacket. You’d ride home clinging to him, but it was clear your body wasn’t enough to keep him warm. He’d arrive with the tip of his nose red and his eyes watery, even though he always rode cautiously. You couldn’t help but curse yourself for that.

 As a result, most nights out at bars ended with Eli holding your blue sweater when you weren’t wearing it. It was pretty adorable. Eli’s wardrobe leaned towards neutral tones, nothing overly colorful, but he didn’t mind carrying your royal blue sweater around.   During the summer, when it wasn’t really necessary, Eli kept it stored in the motorbike’s internal compartment, just in case.

 And honestly, Eli didn’t mind the feeling of your cold nose resting against his neck or the soft fabric brushing against him as you held on tight. There were plenty of little things about those moments that he’d grown to love.

…

 The sun had added a warm flush to Eli’s cheeks, deepening the freckles scattered across his face. His shoulders were peppered with sun-kissed dots, and his chest glowed with a faint redness. You smiled at him, brushing his damp hair back and sliding his sunglasses up into place. “So they don’t block your view,” you said with a playful wink. He nodded, pulling on a tank top.

 You were wearing shorts and just the top half of your bikini—it was vacation, after all, and judging by your surroundings, it was perfectly fitting. The two of you had rented a nearby beach house for the holiday, planning to spend it together.

 “I think I’ve got a shirt here if you want one,” Eli offered, adjusting your hair the same way you had done for him before placing a soft, slightly wet kiss on your forehead.

 “I’m fine, it’s way too hot for that,” you replied. He studied you for a moment before letting it go, though in the back of his mind, he preferred you more covered—not out of modesty, but because it felt like protection. Swallowing the thought, he simply nodded.

 He climbed onto the bike and offered his hand, waiting for you to hop on behind him. As he rode, Eli kept glancing at you in the rearview mirror. Your eyes, tinged with redness from fatigue, were still fixed on the road ahead. His heart pounded—not the exhilarating kind of rush, but an anxious thrum.

 Your hold on him was familiar, one arm wrapped around his waist, fingers clutching at his tank top like it was a paper. The other arm looped across his torso horizontally, pulling his back snug against your chest. It was an oddly comforting embrace.

 You pressed your nose against his warm shoulder, letting your damp hair cool his skin. After a moment, your face burrowed deeper into him, and the grip of one arm on his chest loosened slightly.

 “Babe?” he called, his voice low but not quite a whisper. You hummed in response, your fatigue pretty evident.

 Glancing back at you through the mirror, he noticed your head drooping further, your forehead resting against the back of his neck. Your eyes were closed now, hidden from view. While it was nice knowing you felt safe enough to relax, the thought of you falling asleep wasn’t comforting.

 “Talk to me, yeah? Keep me company,” he urged, giving your hand a few light pats.

 “Eli, I’m just a little tired,” you muttered, slightly irritated. Talking wasn’t exactly what you wanted right now.

 He checked the mirror again, catching the mess of your wind-tousled hair haloed by the sunlight and the subtle glow on your skin. He thought you looked stunning.

 “You don’t have to answer, but I can’t let you fall asleep back there,” he said, his voice steadier this time. “I’m worried something might happen to you.”

 The way he spoke so earnestly made it clear he’d thought about this before. It wasn’t something you’d considered—falling asleep and the risks that came with it—but he was right.

 “Alright,” you murmured faintly, knowing he hadn’t heard you. Leaning forward, you pressed a kiss to the side of his helmet, earning a soft laugh from him.

 “Thank you,” he said, his relief evident. You bit your lip, smiling as you saw color rush to his cheeks. He really was adorable.

 “So, do you know what you’re getting to eat yet?” you asked, shifting the conversation. “I want to order some different jams to try with the fries.”

 He grinned, his eyes back on the road. “Not sure yet, but that sounds good.” He knew, without question, that if he had looked away, you’d have found a way to grab his attention anyway.

[marinettesaltprompts]

The Maribat deconstruction got me thinking: am I the only one who thinks Adribat is a more....plausible (??is that the word) concept than Maribat? Like, not even in a romantic sense but a familial platonic sense.

Think about it, he's :

got the tragic backstory & suffered from neglect

canonically been abused waaaaay beyond school bullies

taken for granted by adults (primarily his dad & Master Fu) and by his peers (LB)

dealing with the existential crisis of not being human if we go the sentimonster route.

Look, I get that trauma & suffering should NEVER be a competition but when you think abt it, Adrien's suffered just as much, if not more so than Mari ever did even with Chloe & Lila in the picture. You could argue that some of what she suffers in salt fics (isolation, no support system, emotional suppression, harassment) are ALSO things Adrien goes through bcz while he's a superhero like her, UNlike her, his home life sucks.

So if there's either hero the Bat Fam would empathize with more, it's him. Yes, they can hold him accountable for screw ups but if we go the Good Parent!Bruce route, he can give Adrien the physical & nuanced emotional training he needs to spot red flags & deal with them beyond passivity. The training is harsh but at least he doesn't play favourites, giving Adrien no excuse to slack off & proper motivation to mature. Plus, in the Bat Fam, everyone has clear roles & secrets aside, nobody strings anyone along, offering him a reliable structure to fall back on.

He doesn't come into the Bat Fam expecting to be in charge. Instead, the nitty-grittiness would push him to be more independent & decisive instead of impulsive.

If LB tries to call him out, he could point out how for all she claims to be the 'responsible professional hero', she REacted instead of acted & if real IDs are thrown in the mix, he can call out how she just went with the 'woe is me' route, resenting that everyone didn't jump on her call for a witch hunt when she could've communicated to them privately.

Sorry, this turned out longer & less explicitly mari salt-centric than I thought but I tried to stay objective. I hope you don't mind.

Technically everyone would have their own opinion about whether a Miraculous/Batman crossover could actually work. In my opinion however, I believe that the best bet for a good crossover would be through Adrien more than Marinette, in part because of the reasoning you gave, but also because Adrien would fit the idea of a Batfamily member more thematically than Ladybug ever could. If anything, he's like Catwoman but without the whole stealing bit.

Keep in mind that the whole Maribat AU was created with the goal of creating a salt fic (albiet with a crossover), and the OG creator even took a character that was no way romantical and turned him OOC to make their convoluted idea work, ironically in a method reminding me of the "My Immortal" Harry Potter fanfic. Regardless how it later developed, the original idea was pure salt, albiet one that took off because of everyone's hate boner for any character that wasn't Marinette, with people later trying to justify it for one reason or another. It's an idea that should have never worked in the first place outside of this context. In contrast though, Adribat would actually work because of a genuine commonality connection.

Also I don't mind talking about Adrien on this blog. In my mind, Marinette salt and Adrien sugar are the one and the same on this blog, because the salt of one character is usally sugar of the other due to how these prompts go.

Hell, my entire blog was made in opposition to the more well know Adrien Salt Blog made by another individual, which has both plenty of Adrien salt and LOTS of Marinette sugar, though I would call the latter justification for Marinette's own bad behavior as it never discusses her own issues, it just let's her go off scott free by pinning the blame all on Adrien.

In any case, I like your idea! If you or anyone else want's to share any Adribat prompts that you got, feel free to send them here!

[eightyonekilograms]

Obviously, JD Vance's proposal to give parents additional votes stirred up a furor from progressives saying it's anti-feminist, reactionary, trying to keep women in the kitcen, etc.

And I agree with them. Frankly I wouldn't shed a single tear if Trump "who will rid me of this meddlesome running mate"-d a second VP in a row and I never had to hear from Vance or his 2010!NRx ideas ever again. But I have a more prosaic objection also: if implemented, I don't think this plan would actually work?

Like, as I understand it, there are two proposed justifications for how this might be a good idea, but I don't think either of them stand up to scrutiny.

The first (and less plausible) one is, people who selfishly want more votes will have more children in order to get more political leverage for [whatever they want]. Even though they're doing it for selfish reasons, children are a public good, and so on net this is good for society.

I think this theory can be dispensed with pretty easily. It sounds just like one of those $1000 payments for having another child that budges the birth rate not at all because it's way too small a reward for the expense involved. Even speaking as someone intensely annoyed by trendy anti-electoralist cynicism, I know the EV of an additional vote is microscopic compared to the expense of having children. It won't move anyone except at the very bleeding edge of the margin.

But that's the easy case. The much more interesting theory of the Vance Plan is that of fixing broken incentives. The story goes like this: one feature of democracy, for better or worse, is that it rewards those who show up. If you have no vote (or don't use your vote), you are invisible to democracy, so your wants will be systematically underrepresented. This is why wealthy first-world countries are increasingly gerontocratic in both legislative makeup and resulting policy: old people reliably vote, young people don't, so even with no conspiracy involved, democracy gravitates to favoring the wants of the old. Vance says, hey, children cannot vote, so just as you'd predict, their interests (as a class!) get ignored, so we end up with a legislative landscape that doesn't favor children and makes it harder to raise them.

It makes perfect sense on paper! But I think in the real world it falls apart.

What are the actual bits of legislation and policy which discourage people from having more children? I mean, people can and do argue furiously over this question, but IMO three of the most significant ones are:

NIMBY localist housing policy locking young potential parents out of the housing market

More localist tax and education policy making competition for "good schools" a Red Queen Race which drives up house prices still further, requiring two working parents

Safetyist legislation which, while well-intentioned, is making everything from cars to child care more expensive than it necessarily needs to be

In order to believe that giving parents additional votes will cause a more child-friendly society to emerge via electoral pressure, you have to believe that parents are more likely than non-parents to oppose 1, 2 and 3. And that just... doesn't seem true? At best there's no difference, and to be blunt, I think as a class parents tend to be worse than non-parents on all three. #NotAllParents, of course, there are plenty of people with kids who still want good abundance policy, but averaged over everybody I think it's hard to deny that parenthood tends to push people toward defensive, loss-averting "protect the children" mentalities which, on a global scale, fuck everyone else over. That talking point you constantly see among the Very Online Right that parents are more likely than non-parents to think Beyond Themselves and want to build a stable world for the long term, just seems obviously false to me. Or at least if it is true, it's true in a way which is mostly irrelevant, since these "long-view parents" don't know how to turn those wants into policy which actually achieves them.

Frankly, I think it's easy to envision a world where the Vance Plan makes all policy around child-rearing worse instead of better, and depresses the birth rate even further.

[so-much-for-subtlety]

So, I've been reviewing all the timelines that are available around UHC CEO killing.

There's some conspiracy theories going around that he couldn't get from UWS to midtown on an ebike - with people putting in biking trip times for google maps shows 20-25 mins.

But if he went from hostel to Central Park entrance on 100th street, and then from 100th street to midtown that's 3.3 miles, and on an ebike that does 28 mph that's 7 minutes which exactly aligns with security footage timestamps (and I know from personal experience that this is possible going through Central Park because you don't have any stop lights - and at this time of morning no tourists either).

Assuming 28 mph ebike that also matches times for leaving the scene and going back up through central park etc (and gives him plenty of time to stop and drop backpack somewhere).

But there are still some things that I find odd:

why would he bike at 28mph to the scene potentially risk getting caught with a gun on person? why not just leave earlier and bike at legal speeds?

he seemed to be around the scene for 33 mins before deciding to go to Starbucks which was about a 24 min roundtrip - if he'd got there early to stake out and wait for CEO, why did he leave after 33 mins to take 24 mins out of stakeout time just to get coffee/water/granola bars?

on walk to Starbucks cameras show him existing 57th st station - it's totally plausible that he entered between 55th & 56th and exited between 56th & 57th (no swipe needed) but WHY? also MTA says they have had security cameras installed at all stations since 2021, so why no footage of him in the station? from whatever place he entered subway, he would have been able to see the Starbucks across the street.

15 mins before shooting, on walk back from Starbucks he's on camera with phone up to ear, and he gets to scene just 6 mins before CEO gets there. Did he get a tip from someone that CEO was leaving?

Here's a map I've drawn (black for walk from scene to Starbucks, red for walk from Starbucks back to scene & shooting, and green for leaving the scene after shooting) Anything with a timestamp is verified by camera footage. Points C & J are just my assumptions.

I think he probably had his bike locked up around point C:

and so the trip to Starbucks might have also been a chance to check that his bike was still there (by then it would have been locked up for over 30 mins).

But after already waiting at scene for 30 mins, why make quite a lengthly detour to Starbucks unless he'd received a message that CEO wouldn't be there for another 30 mins? And on the walk back to the scene from Starbucks, he also look a long route back. Maybe walking off nerves, but even so unless you knew the time the CEO would be at the scene you'd not take an unnecessary long route back right?

To me, leaving the scene after waiting ~30 mins, and then arriving back at the scene just 6 mins before CEO arrives all seems like he was in contact with someone who had info around CEOs movements.

The quick dip into the subway doesn't make sense. I think he knew the area well, and had chosen a place to lock up bike for a fast exit to central park. Maybe just a red herring but seems so strange (maybe he dropped something off? picked something up? met someone? if anything happened it happened fast because timestamps show he was from point B to point D in just a couple minutes and it's a 3 min walk).

[lonleydweller]

could we get some yandere rdr1 John Marston headcanons perchance? ❤️

🥀Yandere! John Marston hcs (RDR1/High honor)🥀

!Warnings!: spoilers for RDR1, Yandere trope, obsession, stalking, intimidation, violent behavior, mentioned murder, hanging mentioned but it's just a reference to a title of a mission, kidnapping

● A former rugged outlaw, now a family man, well, trying be a family man. Yet just like anyone else in the gang.. the past clings to his clothes like blood. He's come to terms with the fact he isn't a good man long agi. However the least he can do is try not to be any worse than. For the promise to his family both present and gone.

● Now I'm going to assume in this situation that either Abigail is out of the picture or she agrees with a third in their marriage.. as otherwise an obsession will cause even more of a stir. He swore an oath when he said those vows. The spurs of his boots dug into them. That'd require a entirely seprate set of hcs.

● He's desperate. Willing to take help from a swindling salesman, drunkards, farmers, the damn law, a legendary gunslinger, and corrupt government officials. Just to cross three names off a list for the government. Sure, he'll take help from you too. Why not? That's not too out of the question. Bar or shop keep with information? Lawmen? Got something he needs? He'll be in your company for a little while till he has whatever it is he needs from you.

● You don't even need to help him. He sure as hell could have helped you. He's gone out of his way to help Bonnie, a stubborn wandering man, a woman crying for her lost son, and many other people along his way. Maybe you seemed in a bit of trouble so John decided he had some time to lend a hand. If it's something serious especially, then it wouldn't seem odd when he comes and checks in on you again.

● He manages to appear. You know? At some point you start to swear he has you marked down on a map or something. Although it manages to come off as reasonable. If you're offering aid of course he's gonna appear again. If vice versa, he's just being nice and checking up? What is there to worry? Even if the way he carries himself may be frightening. He hasn't done anything to you has he?

● John's presence no doubt draws eyes towards you. Espically if he's started to make a name for himself in the area. The rugged, serious, scary sounding outlaw from the city folks boat talking to a little local? So often too? Don't be surprised if rumors spread about.

● Soon the cold greetings turn oddly warmer. Like an old friend greeting one another. More jovial. He isn't as withdrawn, maybe he gives you a quick pat on the shoulder, or just stands a little bit closer to you compared to the first encounter. An odd compliment or two.. maybe even an akward attempt to flirt. Although with him it's hard to tell.

● John talks about his family gradually as the time you two spend together goes on. His wife, his son, less closed off then he would with someone else. Obsession growing stronger. He makes subtle comments, one's that seem like he's almost implying you join the family, surely you're just misunderstanding right? That's what he wants. He wants the plausible denialbility until he can gage your reaction.

● He's aware of how it sounds. A married man. Inviting a third into a relationship? A family? In the 1900s no less? Even with Abigail in this situation presumably agreeing.. it's not an easy thing to propose. Let alone to someone that barely knows him. Even when he knows so much about them.

● He seems more eager to jump the gun when defending you. Even witty comments or jokes are meant with sarcastic snap back from him. Easy to shut the other person down. It dosen't matter if it's a friendly jab from someone close to you, he bristles to defend you like a guard dog. He can give plenty of barks, solemn does he bite. When he does it's nasty.

● He's willing to throw a couple punches and break a couple faces off a bar table if someone's talking real filthy about you. They can't talk shit when they're missing they're teeth. Someone really hurting you is where the bark turns lethal. He'll follow behind on their trail before lassoing them, drag them off into the wilderness of the night, come back with blood on his clothes he poorly tried to rinse off in a stream. Don't worry. He was just out hunting. He even has some pelts to prove it.

●Now if it's a situation like Bonnie's hanging where you're actively being attacked or harmed he won't go all stealthy. He's going guns blazing and yelling at the top of his lungs. Each bullet is shoot to kill. Every living thing involved having a big red X on their heads in John's eyes.

● If you question him on any of this behavior he's defensive. He'll admit what he did most of the time if he's done it in front of you. Yeah. Sure, he might have shot that person. So what? They were just being an issue. He got rid of it. Alternatively he might make an excuse they probably got lost or something, they didn't seem too bright anways.

● Now as mentioned before, John's not trigger happy, killing really isn't his first option. Even in a case of jealousy. He know killing someone for flirting ain't gonna earn him no favors. So he'll just nudge them the right direction, that right direction being away from you.

● He'll stand beside you as they talk to you. Constantly make snappy remarks. Nudge himself between you two if he can. That don't work? He can pull them aside and have a little chat. What was said? Just some "friendly" words. He promises.

● As his journey comes to a close he tries to coax you to come with him. Come on. His wife and son would surely love to meet the person who helped assure he could return home. The other people? Nigel? No, no. They didn't help as much as you did. Just come with him. Their little ranch isn't so bad. It'll just be a lil visit.

● If you're in a situation that leaves you as disadvantage he will take advantage of it. He dosen't see it as manipulation. No, no, no. He's just helping. Let him help you back on your feet. Let them help you. There's a room he can spare for you. Uncle's lazy bum dosen't do much. Even if he'd much prefer you in the same bed as his him and Abigail.

● If push comes to shove, he'll lasso you up, he apologizes briefly but what other choice did he have? You wouldn't come with him otherwise and John's not too keen on leaving family behind. Not after Arthur. Not after how long he's had to abandon Jack and Abigail. You're no different. Even if you don't agree.

@adalwolfgang, @helpfandom

[ghost-on-mars1]

I finished mtmte/ll recently and as much as I absolutely adored the series, I do have some complaints/questions.

That final arc felt generally kinda weak, but some things really stuck out:

Most glaring to me was Nightbeat's death. I didn't even realize what was going on when I read it. I fully believed he was just getting up to more hijinks on his own, finally make his own discovery, then the series ends and I realized he actually fully died? It was so anticlimactic and honestly unnecessary I didn't even register it was supposed to be a permanent death until I saw he was one of the figurines of dead characters on the table. Why no one even give a fuck either the crew never brings it up 😭

On the note of dead characters, Skids. I know plenty of people bring this up as a complaint but yeah, I see why. One of the best characters in the series killed off in an (questionably necessary) incredibly depressing scene, with no one ever reaching true closure or having good discussions about it. I have a lot of thoughts about his death that I gotta think through first, but Im just unsatisfied with it. It feels like the series relied on everything just ending up okay, like with Tailgate mysteriously living. Cd/rewind and cyclonus/Tg both had plenty of moments were character death is resolved by some miracle because they completely rely on each other to not fall apart, and it would be incredibly depressing for that to happen to a character. And that's completely okay, but then it just feels weird that to avoid that kind of plot, they have the characters closest to Skids just move on, hardly acknowledging it. At that point just being him back as well, because his platonic relationships were as strong as those romantic ones. Or at least have his friends acknowledge it, literally anything. (I do find it really interesting that his first words in the series were his last, calling himself scum. Sad, but a fun idea, that makes his death feel even worse too me. He died thinking he was a horrible person and because of his lack of revival, it's an extremely depressing almost up out of pocket way to end of his character in a series that never had this type of hopeless vibe.) Maybe they wanted the DJD to be a full threat, by actually killing off a character. But it wasn't really them who did it, at least not directly so I don't really think so.

This is more of a question, what was the point of Roller? Don't get me wrong I adored him probably way to much for a guy who didn't really do much. But seriously, what did he do. After the flashback we're he is introduced, it feels like he's supposed to be something of a Skids replacement, as in he's filling in the spot of a charismatic kind guy that's kinda the more down to earth member of the crew to compliment that wacky personalities. I think he was supposed to be a Red Herring in making you think he was Tarn before becoming Tarn (because of his need to be useful and his head shape)? But it was so underbaked I didn't even catch that until after Tarn died and was revealed to be Glitch instead. And now this is getting into more personal opinions/ideas, but I feel like he would have been more interesting if he was Tarn. But I get that just doesn't work because he was a disappeared person, and clearly Tarn isn't disappeared. But considering the loop holes this series gets into to make stuff happen (which again isn't a bad thing I think it makes it more charming) it could have plausibly happened, considering he changed his identity completely to become Tarn. I might make a post going into this idea further, but it would have probably made Tarn too sympathetic (which I also have thoughts about) so I understand why they wouldn't.

Sorry this got to way too long, I might mention more later when I can fully retrospect. Again tho, I really enjoyed this series, no series can be perfect and there were probably time constraints.

[phantomrose96]

Oh okay so I have a Pikmin theory.

So for starters: Pikmin 1->2->3 are chronological. Pikmin 4 is a sort of AU of Pikmin 1, precedented on Olimar not making it off PNF-404 alive (sort of a bad-end of Pikmin 1, but also with various other AU differences).

This leads me to wonder... is Pikmin 4->2->3 arguably a canon sequence of events? Cuz either the differences between 1 and 4 have knocked canon off course, and as such 4 will never lead to 2 and 3. Or you can string them together in a way that makes 4->2->3 a plausible canonical chain.

The biggest thing that stands out to me is Louie. In 1->2->3, no one was ever sent to rescue Olimar in 1, and the second he arrives home in 2 his boss informs him that Louie was attacked ("attacked") by a space rabbit that ate the precious cargo of golden pikpik carrots, launching the company into massive debt (and he forces Olimar back to PNF-404 to treasure hunt to pay off the debt.) It's later revealed Louie was never attacked, and he ate the cargo himself.

In 4, LOUIE is sent to rescue Olimar. (He never does. He completely gives up because he forgot what Olimar looks like, and then becomes the biggest pain in your ass after YOU rescue Olimar, because Louie starts taking hostages and running from you insisting he never wants to leave PNF-404 for... some unclear reason?)

This feels like it could break 4->2->3 as a plausible canon, considering Louie is not home on Hocotate to eat his whole cargo (fucker). But I realized something.

Pikmin 4 starts more or less around when Olimar's life support runs out and he dies. You get his SOS signal not long at all before this happens. And TBH, it's probably a good additional in-game month in 4 before you actually rescue Olimar and encounter Louie. In a good-end run of Pikmin 1, Olimar needs to repair his ship and escape PNF-404 before his life support runs out. So in short: Louie fucks up the cargo sometime prior to Olimar's life support running out, and Pikmin 4 is set after his life support runs out. (Technically, they changed the amount of time his life support lasts between 1 and 4, but I figure that was to trim down Olimar's Tale in 4 and not actually for a canon reason).

My point being, Pikmin 4 being largely set after Olimar's life support runs out means Louie had plenty of time to fuck up the pikpik carrot cargo.

Then there's the fact that in Pikmin 4, Louie is desperate to STAY on PNF-404 for reasons he refuses to ever explain. Maybe, because, ya know, he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. He knows he's responsible for plunging Hocotate Freight into what was essentially $10 million of debt. Louie doesn't want to be charged with $10 million worth of theft. And without Olimar bringing home the bottle cap, there's no plan for repaying that debt.

Louie maybe wants to stay on PNF-404 because he's not going the fuck to jail.

All this to say: I think 4->2->3 is actually a completely reasonable canon sequence, if you figure the "Louie lost (ate) the $10 million of golden pikpik carrots" happens in the background, right at the start of Pikmin 4 before Olimar's life support has run out. Olimar's SOS comes through, and President, desperate for his only competent employee back to help fix this, sends Louie to PNF-404 on a rescue mission. On PNF-404, Louie figures himself a fugitive who'd rather spend his days cooking bulborbs than ever return home to Hocotate to potentially face the music of his "this was definitely a felony" crime, and so he kicks and screams and fights to stay on PNF-404...

...And you drag him home anyway, along with poor rescued Olimar who's died and come back to life... just in time for their boss to be like "YOU idiots, go get me out of debt! Go back to PNF-404"

[dead-lights]

trai-lore!

because ya know. trailers. with lore.

i'll see myself out

but! before i go - I went and compiled all of the Vampires trailers I could find! I wasn't familiar with all of the shorts and I'm not 100% sure I found them all. There are a lot of contradictions, but aside from the gameplay trailer they can mostly be stitched together.

Also, I recognize I'm trying to wring blood from a stone, reading into things that EA never intended, but ya know. That's the point of exploring lore!

this is mostly validated by werewolves - Lily's dialogue confirms that Caleb was turned by Miss Hell, and the 7 years unlucky mirror confirms that Vlad ambushed her while she was brushing her teeth.

It looks like the bar Miss Hell attacks Caleb in is supposed to be in Forgotten Hollow. There are plenty of reasons he could've been there, but to me that implies that Lilith turned first, and he was there because that's where she hangs out now.

It looks like you're supposed to be able to see the normie parts of Forgotten Hollow from that cliff with the bench, rather than just more of the mountain. There's definitely supposed to be more than just those 5 lots.

I'm not sure if the person behind Miss Hell in the bar is anyone specific? they feel slightly familiar but I might be thinking of Leila Illes from island living, which came out afterwards.

It's unclear how Caleb ended up in the bathroom or whether he asked to turn - the animation is the same either way. In game, I've had a lot of success with both bat-form bathroom ambushes and the good ol' "ask for woohoo and then cancel the order as soon as you're alone together" maneuver so either is plausible. To me, it looks like she's reenacting her transformation, with her as Vlad, so she would've wanted unwilling prey. I've generally thought that Caleb followed her into the bathroom thinking he was going to get laid, but with that in mind it does make sense that she would've just ambushed him when he got up to pee (poor humans and their bladders can't handle their nectar). @charsimsalot has a lot of interesting things to say about how being forcibly turned would have affected Miss Hell in this excellent post about the apartment they built for the rebellious vampires!

That bathroom door is on backwards. I checked - that door only has a sign on one side. Maybe they really wanted to hammer home the point that this is a bathroom? the sink and toilet do a pretty good job of that...

Caleb is not a daywalker in this trailer - since this seems to show him in his earlier days, that 100% checks out. It takes 15 skill points to become a daywalker, which... yikes.

note: I know the sims is very gay these days but do keep in mind that vampires was released January 2017. Gay marriage wasn't fully legalized in the US until June 2015. It was a big deal that Caleb suave kissed a guy in the trailer!

fun fact: the song used for this, deadly flo, seems to be either very cheap or free to license. It is used in a few episodes of the Baking Championship franchise. Y'all, that franchise got me back into baking and directly inspired GOBC. I lost my absolute shit when I heard it playing! There are also parts of Holiday Baking Championship that sound suspiciously like the sims 2 theme... I kinda wonder if there's a simmer in their sound department.

Not really that interesting - earlier versions of their outfits/vlad's dark form. Lilith cannot actually turn into a bat in-game.

vlad bloodvein can use "deprive needs" (must be a master vampire at minimum)

brandy can turn into a bat (should be a minor vampire at minimum)

based on the view outside Brandy's bedroom window, it looks like the virtuous vampires might live in an apartment in San Myshuno? Newcrest! ty charsimsalot

vlad uses supernatural speed to collect figurines

Not very interesting - just Brandy and Elle eating.

↓↓↓ WARNING - jumpscare below ↓↓↓

lmao what

this one doesn't even seem real, but as far as I can tell it was in fact released as a teaser for the full trailer.

This is the official trailer - it lines up reasonably well with other lore. Also the song is so fun.

Most notably: this trailer shows that Caleb is the one who turned Inna. No context is given. Other promotional material & the in-game paintings show that she was a thrall, potentially for hundreds of years before Caleb turned her.

The exterior of the house where Caleb turns Inna looks exactly like Wolfsbane Manor. However, Inna's bedroom doesn't match any room in the manor. It looks like there is a nearly identical house where Widowshild Townhouse currently is, so either Inna was in that house, or Wolfsbane Manor has since been remodeled. It would be kinda interesting if Caleb and Lilith decided to buy Inna's old house when they moved...

When Caleb turns into a bat, he's in the graveyard to the left of Vlad's house. Maybe he and Lilith lived with Vlad for a time? It kinda looks like Vlad had a lot of vampires filtering in and out of his place.

Elle real horny. I wonder what happened to that guy - he isn't a gallery vampire but he shows up in a lot of the paintings. As far as I'm aware Elle doesn't show up in any paintings. He has since been identified - he's this guy. Thank you charsimsalot!

This trailer is an absolute mess. It contradicts enough existing lore that it shouldn't be taken as any sort of canon, but it's a decent source of inspiration to fill in the gaps, and I pulled heavily from it when I was choosing powers for the gallery vampires.

Elle uses her mist form (I checked the animations) - she must be a grand master. She can use Command.

Markus Crow has supernatural speed - must be master+

Lilith is using a computer at the beginning of this, which feels weird because this is supposed to be at least 50 years ago. That said, technology doesn't advance in the sims, so, sure.

This makes it look like Vlad just broke into her house and turned her like he did with Miss Hell, but to me Lily makes it sound like Lilith was a more active participant: "I remember when my cousin, Lilith, first told me she'd met a fascinating man named Vlad. After that, she started spending a lot of time "training" with him. I thought she meant they were workout buddies. It wasn't until later that I found out she'd been lured to the dark arts."

Lilith's bed is a reward from the painter career - not sure if the implication is that she earned it herself?

I can't really see outside Lilith's windows, but it does kinda look like Forgotten Hollow? Which doesn't make a lot of sense to me - why would she and Caleb have to move to Forgotten Hollow if they already lived there? That said, that isn't Lilith. And that isn't Caleb. This was from when their names were Gina and Raylan. Apparently this is Willow Creek! ty charsimsalot again.

Note that "Raylan" doesn't have the good vampire aspiration, and his traits are completely different. The others aren't quite the same as the gallery sims, but at least they still have the same names.

Looking out the window, it looks like the Virtuous Vampires are in Forgotten Hollow with everyone else. In one of the shorts, it looks like they live in a big city. I'm not sure which I like better!

Lilith is used as the example for supernatural strength. While she doesn't actually have that in-game, this is part of why I like to make her fitness 10 brute with vampiric might.

Elle continues to be real horny. Who is that guy? I like the implication that they had to go get it on as bats because Vlad was taking a nap and they couldn't fuck in his coffin :( Mystery has been solved - seriously tho the model used for him was in this trailer and it is HILARIOUS to assume he's the same guy.

Bonus! While this isn't a trailer, exactly, it's a promotional blog post from Vlad's point of view and it is the best. Every last part of this makes me happy, from Caleb and Lilith ganging up on Vlad to Vlad referring to sparring matches as "epic duels" (or, in this particular case, what seems like a pretty good training sesh for Caleb).

Nothing about Lilith makes it seem like she doesn't feed on people except a) her household description and b) this post. That said, those two things about as primary as canon can get.

Vlad claims to own 100 gray coats

Vlad only fought Caleb. There could be so many reasons for that - was Caleb the one who made the challenge? Does Vlad not want to fight his offspring?

Vlad claims that the Encyclopedia Vampirica is mostly based on him. Make of that what you will.

Second bonus: Did you know that Vlad has a normie cousin??? There was a bit of promotional content for seasons involving the Climate family. This is that time they invited Vlad over for Harvestfest.

Please let me know if I missed anything! There's a lot of material out there, much of it no longer available on EA's site, so it's definitely possible there are things I didn't find.

[floatingcatacombs]

UFO 50 Abducted Me For 159.2 Hours

12 Days of Aniblogging 2024, Day 4

I love video games...

UFO 50 may love video games more than me, though. It’s a preposterously ambitious compilation of fifty small-to-medium-scale games, developed and published by Mossmouth, which here refers to Spelunky creator Derek Yu and like five of his buddies.

These are retro-styled games, with three or four asterisks apiece on ‘retro’ and ‘styled’. The overall aesthetic approximates the eight-bit period, with a limited color palette and sequenced music, but things get tricky after that. There’s deliberate anachronisms everywhere, with a heavy focus on genres and mechanics popularized far after the NES era. There’s games in this collection that take elements from real-time strategy, 4X, deckbuilders, tower defense, platform fighters, and even immersive sims. The evolutionary lineage of games influencing other games is practically flipped on its head here! The Steam page for UFO 50 describes this as “a familiar 8-bit aesthetic with new ideas and modern game design”, which I think is a frankly bad way to describe the means by which these games constantly astound and surprise by playing with our expectations. It's the kind of collection where you boot up some shit titled "Waldorf's Journey" expecting a dinky little mascot platformer, and after twenty minutes of calibrating walrus trajectories you're forced to contend with the fact that Waldorf's Journey has imprinted itself into your very soul.

Only a few of the games in this collection are straightforward pastiches of popular NES genres – there’s a beat ‘em up, a space shooter, some arcadey sports titles, and a Bubble Bobble, but that’s about it. Everything else is either a novel idea or working within far more advanced genre mishmashes. The panicked unit reorganizing of Attactics, the death-based puzzle platforming of Mortol, the glorious Fire Emblem and Pogs mashup that is Lords of Diskonia - even when liberally borrowing from other games, it’s really creative stuff! I loved all the times when my initial assumptions of how the game would play ended up completely wrong. You may think Rock On! Island is a tower defense game, but there’s a secondary aspect of creating chicken-immolating factories to get more resources that practically supersedes the tower defense aspect in later levels.

Of course, these are the Spelunky guys, so procedural generation and roguelike elements feature heavily in more than a few of these games. That’s the biggest jump in plausibility – more than half of the games in this collection could hypothetically run on the NES with enough tweaks, but anything with enough randomness fundamentally could not. If you hate procgen with a burning passion then a fifth of the collection will probably be out of reach for you, but there’s plenty of bespoke design to go around as well.

UFO 50, as a collection of a defunct fictional company's game catalogue, conjures up the feeling of playing old games without the manual or a copy of Nintendo Power to help you out. For younger players it might invoke the times you tried to emulate NES games to see what all the older gamers were always going on about, devoid of the original context. There’s a real willingness on the part of UFO 50 to just drop you in and have you figure out the controls and strategy yourself. Because of this approach, the first ten minutes of any given game are often the roughest! That’s a wild trust fall on the developer's part, asking someone to stick through the period of confusion and frustration so that they can watch those emotions bloom into understanding, then competency, then joy. These “dude trust me” design moments are everywhere.

It doesn’t always work. Caramel Caramel has a straight-up backwards difficulty curve, Star Waspir has way too much going on on top of demanding shmup literacy in advance, and Porgy plus Divers are both extremely divisive for their slow and punishing starts, which definitely made me lose interest. But sometimes the difficulty and hostility actively draw you in, in a way that easier or more tutorialized games would not have. Rakshasa is a short but extremely difficult platformer inspired by Ghosts N’ Goblins that I just kept chipping away at in between trying out games. Rail Heist seems simple at first but is chock-full of emergent systems that let you truly rip the levels open if you think outside the box, something which is actively encouraged by the optional clear conditions. Onion Delivery is Crazy Taxi with tank controls and random events to make driving even more stressful. It's hell on earth and I love it for that. Mortol 2 also has very open-ended design, with each new run of 99 lives and one-hit deaths forcing you to rethink and optimize your approach until you find a way through its winding map.

The fifty games here are organized in chronological release date, with the “earlier” games being far simpler and often less polished than the later ones, even if their quality usually still shines through with gameplay. This is a bold move on Yu’s part. The first game in the collection, Barbuta, is a cryptic La Mulana-like with cheesy traps, clunky movement, and a truly painful learning curve. It is what the true game design freaks out there refer to as “kino”. I’m not on their level yet, but there is plenty in this collection for me to enjoy. Generally, I’ve found Eirik Suhrke’s contributions to be the most personally compelling to me on a gameplay level. Mooncat is an absolutely sublime platformer that forces you to relearn movement from first principles with controls that cannot possibly be described in text format. Campanella is a delightful little obstacle course of a game, and I had a fun time hunting for secrets in it. Warptank is a solid puzzle platformer, Pingolf is easily my favorite multiplayer game in the collection, and I’ve already praised Onion Delivery and Rakshasa. Surhke has a knack for fiendish little games where the difficulty comes across as more of a punchline than anything else. They’re bursting with character through the gameplay alone. I felt the drive to rise up to almost every one of his contributions, which is similar to how I feel about my favorite indie game developer, sylvie. I hereby award Eirik Surhke the UFO 50 Game Design Pervert Award. Who would’ve known that the Spelunky composer was as good of a designer as the Spelunky guy himself, if not more?

play mooncat. I am not fucking around

UFO 50 also has quite the elaborate metapuzzle, which is only really worth investigating once you’ve become familiar with the whole game library. It’s a good’n, though. The puzzle hunt unlocks a secret 51st game snuck into the collection by a disgruntled employee, chronicling the late days of the company with an atmosphere that feels hollow and downright wrong. The vibe is RPG Maker horror more than anything else, which is a cool and unexpected pull for this kind of compilation. Through Miasma Tower, the small team process that created UFO 50 is mythologized and problematized, with the fictional company UFO Soft undergoing serious financial and cultural problems, as well as implied fraud, cults, and even a missing person investigation. It was an incredible privilege for Derek Yu and company to be able to pour all of their time and skill into creating a game collection of this caliber without the pressure of money or deadlines due to the success of Spelunky, and Miasma Tower is something of a reckoning about that. Very happy it’s here.

UFO 50 isn’t for everyone. You have to be a fan of either retro games or indie games, ideally both. You have to have an open mind for getting your shit kicked in by both mechanical difficulty and initial game obtuseness. You need to be able to look past the deliberate anachronisms and learn to roll with the mechanical surprises that each game has to offer. But if you’re a weirdo like me, then maybe you’ll also sink a hell of a lot of time into superclearing more than two-thirds of the collection. If nothing else, it’s an amazing value proposition!