#such a good write up and having seen only the west end version I LOVE all the changes made from Donmar. absolutely elevates this production

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 13: The Regrets Are Useless] [Series Finale]

A/N: Below are your final predictions. Let's see how you did... 🥰

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Whatsername” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Rain pours outside the cabin, mist-shrouded pine trees and still dark water, a place in southern Oregon called Lake of the Woods. The twin-sized bed with a thin foam mattress was once used by kids attending summer camp, capture the flag and s’mores, hikes and scary stories, but now the children are ghosts and the monsters are real, stumbling down streets and lurking in dark places, licking blood from what’s left of their lips.

Aemond is here but he’s also not, a castaway on an island where the world never ended, his hands in your hair as you straddle him, your hips moving tentatively, his lips and teeth at your throat, the sharp points of his canines like fangs.

“Am I doing this right?” you murmur doubtfully. “I feel like I’m definitely not doing this right…”

“Shh, you’re great, you’re incredible.”

“I’m sorry I don’t know how to do everything already, I’m sorry you have to teach me—”

“Stop,” Aemond commands, a sharp sigh through your hair. “I love this. I love you. I want to teach you things until the day I die.”

The nervous tension in your muscles unravels—peddles thrown into water, campfire smoke vanishing into indigo night—and now his hands are on your hips, steadying you, guiding you. You link your fingers around the back of his neck and try to find a cadence that isn’t uncomfortable, ungainly, effortful. You wanted to try this. You want to experience everything with him.

“Take your time,” Aemond is saying like it’s difficult for him to keep a train of thought, his eye closed, his cheeks flushed, blood-colored blooms like a dusk sky. “I’m fine down here, don’t worry about me…”

Rain drums against the windows; lightning flashes in the sky and thunder growls. From the front porch of one of the other cabins, you can hear the indistinct droning of conversations and Aegon strumming the acoustic guitar he brought from the beach house. It’s something you’ve overheard him singing before, one of his strange midcentury darlings, a song that should be too old for him to know the words to.

“All you big and burly men who roll the trucks along

Better listen, you’ll be thankful when you hear my song

You have really got it made if you’re haulin’ goods

Any place on earth but those Haynesville Woods…”

Your skin gleams with a cool sheen of sweat; there is a draft through the cabin walls that makes you shiver as you cling to Aemond. You roll your hips a certain way and he moans—suddenly, involuntarily—and you know you’ve found the right rhythm.

“It’s a stretch of road up north in Maine

That’s never ever ever seen a smile

If they’d buried all them truckers lost in them woods

There’d be a tombstone every mile

Count ‘em off, there’d be a tombstone every mile…”

Aemond is kissing you deeply, desperately, trembling hands and gasping shallow breaths. And there is not just euphoria written into the lines of his face; there is disorientation, there is wonder. He barely manages: “Alright…um…if you want me to last longer than about thirty more seconds, you should probably slow down…”

“No,” you tease, grinning as you bite at his full lips.

“When you’re loaded with potatoes and you’re headed down

You’ve got to drive the woods to get to Boston town

When it’s winter up in Maine, better check it over twice

That Haynesville road is just a ribbon of ice…”

Aemond cries out, louder than you’ve ever heard him before—you’ve never had privacy, you’ve never truly been alone—and then again, a helpless ecstatic sound, pleasure so overwhelming it almost starts to feel like pain.

“Quiet!” you whisper, giggling, touching two fingers to his mouth. “Everyone’s going to hear you.”

“Oh my God,” Aemond says. He falls back onto the mattress and brings you with him, his arms wrapped around you, kissing your cheeks and your forehead as the two of you lie there panting and entangled, his blue eye astonished. “Okay, okay, I need a minute. I think I just burst an aneurysm.”

“I killed you?” you purr with feigned distress, basking in your conquest.

“You can kill me whenever you want. You can kill me five times a day.”

“When you’re talking to a trucker that’s been haulin’ goods

Down that stretch of road in Maine they call the Haynesville Woods

He’ll tell you that dying and going down below

Won’t be half as bad as driving on that road of ice and snow…”

Aemond stares up at the ceiling—a steep gable roof, a motionless fan—and now you can tell he’s thinking about his family again, discorporate screams, misplaced trust. Otto Hightower’s bones were found in the shower, meaning he likely died before or not long after their power failed and water would have run out in the municipal system. They were probably killed before you and Aemond ever met, distant galaxies lightyears away, remote long-dead stars. And so all the blood you paid to get to California was wasted.

“Do you ever think about the people you have saved?” you ask gently as your fingertips trace the ridge of his scar. “You stitched yourself back together. You healed Aegon’s burns. You sutured Cregan’s arm. You got me and Rio down from that transmission tower.”

“I guess I did,” Aemond says, but his voice is ambivalent, as if none of these things count. He has not found someplace safe for you yet. His job is not finished; his triumphs may only be temporary.

“Aemond…back in Pennsylvania…why did you decide to help us?”

“Luke spotted you guys, and we all talked it over. If it had just been Rio, honestly, I wouldn’t have taken the chance. A man his size, and possibly armed…could be trouble, you know? But I figured since he was traveling with a woman and you seemed to be with him by choice, he was probably okay. And then when we first met, he was so protective of you…didn’t want me touching you, didn’t leave you alone…I realized he had to be a good guy.”

“He was,” you say solemnly. I was supposed to remind him about the racks. I was supposed to warn him. But you didn’t warn Rio about what was waiting to kill him in that sand-swept grocery store in Winnemucca, just like you didn’t warn Jace about radiation or Baela about the way the rungs of the ladder that ran up the side of the grain bin were rusted and creaking, and maybe there is more than enough blame to go around.

“And then after Battle Mountain, as soon as we found the gasoline and ammo, I knew we had to go back for you. It hit me all at once. I couldn’t protect you by leaving you with Rio and Cregan. And I couldn’t let you go. I’ve never had something like this before. I didn’t know it existed. I told the others we were turning around, and Aegon said: Thank fucking God. Rhaena took off sprinting towards the car.” Then Aemond kisses you again, but tenderly this time, slowly, like you’ll have forever and there’s no need to rush. “I’m going to get you to Odessa. I’m going to take you somewhere safe.”

The rain is stopping; there are still a few hours of daylight left.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Chip Skylark. Check it out,” Aegon says, grinning at you from where he’s sprawled on the wet dock and smoking a cigarette, wearing his neon green plastic sunglasses, his left leg finally freed from its bandages and on full display. You’re all wearing the same things, stolen t-shirts and shorts, sweatshirts at night when it gets cold, sneakers you can walk hundreds of miles in; but Aegon won’t give up his Sperry Bahamas. “It’s nature’s tattoo.”

You sit down beside him and admire the scar tissue, red knots and white cords, jagged terrain like a mountain range, organic highways and bridges and trails. “It’s a roadmap.”

“That’s appropriate.”

You’ve been traveling on foot for two weeks since Criston’s white Tahoe ran out of gas and was abandoned in the town of Mad River, California. Now you are only about ten miles from Odessa, close enough to reach in half a day but too far to get into town before nightfall. This time tomorrow you’ll be there, and it will either be a haven or a wasteland, and if Rio’s parents’ community in Odessa has disappeared then so has your last idea for where to go. Absentmindedly, you skate your fingerprints over the bumps and grooves of Aegon’s leg like a blind man reading braille. He shifts and clears his throat; you’ve made him uncomfortable somehow. You lift your hand away.

“I’m sorry, does that hurt?”

“Nah. I can’t really feel anything besides pressure. The nerve endings got fried.”

“Oh.” But now you don’t know what you did to upset him. Aegon doesn’t provide an explanation. Down the dock a ways towards the shore, Rhaena is reading The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and listening to the pink Sony Walkman formerly owned by a little girl named Ava. Inside whirls Green Day’s 2004 album American Idiot, which Aegon took from his bedroom at the beach house to add to his CD collection, a cultural archive, a gift for posterity. Cregan is teaching Daeron to fish with poles he found in one of the cabins; Helaena is bringing them worms. Aemond and Luke are gathering things dry enough to burn—books and wooden chairs from inside the cabins—and piling them up so Cregan can cook dinner once it’s caught.

“So,” Aegon says, changing the subject, scrutinizing you as he puffs on a Marlboro Gold. “Everything going okay?”

You know what he means; he must have heard Aemond earlier. “Yup.”

“Got it all figured out?”

“Sure did.”

“Great. I’m happy for you,” Aegon says, and yet there’s a twinge of melancholy he’s trying to hide. It must be hard for him; he and Daeron are the only single ones.

“We’ll find you some suitable candidates for your harem when we get to Odessa.”

He chuckles. “Oh, come on.”

“Guys, girls? Do you have a preference?”

He’s smiling wistfully down into the water, a dark rippling mirror. “I have too specific a preference, that’s the problem.”

“Yacht girls in bikinis. Golf cheerleaders.”

“There are no cheerleaders in golf, you yokel.”

“Okay, well…I’m sure you’ll be very popular with the lonely, traumatized, widowed women of the apocalypse.”

Aegon gazes morosely out over the lake. He pitches the end of his cigarette into the water, and your eyes catch briefly on the black ink of the tattoo on his forearm: It’s not over ‘til you’re underground. “I don’t know. I’ve been sober for two weeks and now everything is annoyingly clear.”

“What’s bothering you?”

He waits a while before he answers, evasive. “I’ve never been good at anything.”

“Everyone feels that way sometimes. Luke thinks he’s not good at anything either.”

“But Luke’s nice. I’m a rat bastard.”

You laugh. “You’re kind of nice, Aegon.”

“Yeah right.”

“No, seriously. I like being around you. You make me feel better. You’re like…” You ponder how to word it. “I feel like I could tell you whatever and not worry about being judged for it.”

He snorts. “As if you’ve ever done anything judgeable.”

You shrug, peering out over the lake. “I abandoned my family. I stopped sending them money, I stopped calling. And when everything happened…the zombies, the world ending…I didn’t even consider going back to Kentucky to try to help them. I went west with Rio instead. And now they’re probably all dead and it’s my fault. That’s evil. I couldn’t have gotten away with that level of betrayal. I must be cursed.”

Aegon is watching you, eyebrows raised. He has never heard this before. “But your family sucked, right?”

“Yeah,” you admit. “I think it would be hard to argue they didn’t.”

“So fuck ‘em,” Aegon says simply.

You smile at him, touched, grateful. “Okay. Fuck ‘em.”

“I’m relieved my family’s gone,” Aegon confesses, something so brutal he’d never tell anyone else. “I mean…I feel kind of bad about my mom and Criston. But as long as they were alive, I’d always be the person they raised. And if I could bring someone back, it wouldn’t be any of them. I’d pick Rio.”

“I would too,” you say softly, staring down at the faint burn marks on your palms from when you were stranded on that transmission tower with him, talking him out of suicide, so adamant that both of you were going to make it to Oregon. And you were wrong.

“So if you’re cursed, Pita Chips, sign me up because I’m right there with you.”

Rhaena pulls out an earbud and says to Aegon: “I don’t get this album.”

“What?!” he exclaims.

“It’s so good!” you concur. On the shore, Cregan is spearing several gutted rainbow trout on sticks so they can be roasted over the fire. Ice is gleefully gulping down fish organs.

Aegon continues: “Whatsername! St. Jimmy! Jesus of Suburbia!”

Rhaena blinks, glancing between you and Aegon. “But neither of you grew up in the suburbs.”

“It’s not about the suburbs, Rhaena!” Aegon replies with frenetic hand gestures. “It’s about being disillusioned and angry and failed by all the adults in your life, and self-medicating, and losing love every time you get a taste of it, and wanting to burn everything down and start over. It’s about hating the world and the world hating you back.”

“Okay, sure. I still don’t get it.”

You say: “You might have had too happy a childhood.” And you and Aegon burst out laughing.

“You guys are so weird,” Rhaena says, but she’s smiling. She stands up, gives Aegon back his Walkman, and walks to the end of the dock where Cregan is cooking the rainbow trout. Aemond and Daeron are gathering up the aluminum buckets found at the campground and set outside earlier today to collect rainwater. There is one five-pound bag of trail mix left to share, and then all the food is gone. If Cregan doesn’t kill something, you won’t eat.

“We should go help them with dinner,” you tell Aegon.

He groans. “Should we really?”

“Yeah. We should.”

“Fine.” He takes your hand when you offer it and struggles to his feet. Then you inhale a lungful of the scent of roasting trout, and startlingly powerful nausea punches through your stomach, so repellant you have to clamp a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from retching.

There has to be something wrong with the fish. It’s never smelled like that before.

Aegon seems baffled. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Does the trout smell right to you?”

Aegon sniffs the air like a labrador. “I guess…? I barely smell anything.”

“Well you probably destroyed your nose cells with all the coke.”

“That’s discriminatory. Addiction is a disease.” But his brow is furrowed with concern. “Seriously, are you okay? You look awful. Not like that. You know what I mean.”

“I’m fine.” You don’t feel fine; but everyone down by the fire is chatting and joking around nonchalantly, and surely if there actually was something wrong they would have noticed. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“Sure,” Aegon says, perplexed.

You hurry past the others and take refuge in the cabin you’re sharing with Aemond. Inside the trout smell isn’t so strong. You sit at the edge of the bed and suck in several deep breaths, trying to calm down, willing the confounding wave of nausea to pass.

Did I eat something bad, did I get bit by a spider or something…?

You are checking your arms and legs for little raised bitemarks when Helaena enters the cabin and shuts the door behind her. When she opens her burlap messenger bag to root around inside, you glimpse photographs she must have taken from the beach house, the frames left empty on the mantle of the fireplace. Then Helaena pulls out a pregnancy test, just one, Clearblue.

You gawk at it. “What are you doing?”

“You look sick,” Helaena says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s that.”

She is puzzled, wide innocent blue eyes. “Why not?”

“Well…I mean…that would be freakishly quick, wouldn’t it? Like…quick as in immediately. People can’t get pregnant the first time they have sex, right?”

“Huh. They really don’t have sex ed in Kentucky,” Helaena says, and leaves you alone with your pregnancy test. You don’t feel so nauseous anymore, but you sneak around the back of the cabin to take it anyway, because now you’re thinking about the possibility with a vividness you’ve never experienced before: a round blossoming belly and tiny handprints and Aemond cradling his child in his arms. And by the time you get the result, you aren’t even shocked. It feels like something that’s supposed to happen.

You and Aemond don’t have a moment alone together until after dark, sitting on the porch swing outside your cabin for first watch, everyone else asleep, Ice dozing serenely by your feet. The only sounds are the breeze through the pine trees, cool and damp, and the hoots of owls, and the chirping of crickets and cicadas.

“So guess what,” you say casually as moonbeams float rippling and fractured on the surface of the black-glass lake.

Aemond smiles drowsily, not expecting anything. “What?”

“In approximately eight months, I might be having your baby.”

At first, he doesn’t speak; he only studies the test when you hand it to him, and then looks at you like he’s not convinced you aren’t angry, like he can’t quite bring himself to believe that you’d want this with someone like him. “Are you afraid?”

“No,” you answer honestly. Maybe you should be, but you aren’t. “I’m hopeful. I feel like as soon as I realized it, everything got brighter. And now I’m thinking about the future instead of the past.” They’re not going to grow up like I did. They’re never going to think they aren’t loved. “What should we name it?”

“Not Otter.”

You laugh, trying to muffle it so you don’t wake anyone. Ice lifts her head and stares at you curiously, her shaggy grey ears straight up.

“I don’t know, I’m terrible with names,” Aemond says; and now he’s smiling again, a wide radiant smile, and you know he’s thinking about the future too. “Hope or Peace or something. Something happy. Something about starting over.”

You take his hand. “I can’t wait to start over with you.”

“Just one more day,” Aemond says.

One more day.

~~~~~~~~~~

“So what am I going to do in Odessa?” Luke asks as the eight of you—nine, if you count Ice—trek eastbound on Route 140. You are about five miles from Lake of the Woods and halfway to your destination. It’s only 80 degrees and overcast, good walking weather, although there is a looming threat of rain, occasional rogue drops and far-off rumbles of thunder. “Everyone has valuable skills except me. Chips has great aim and can build things, Daeron has his compound bow, Aemond is basically a doctor, Rhaena is learning how to shoot guns and treat injuries…”

“Aegon has skills?” Cregan jokes, casting him a good-natured grin. Aegon acts like he’s going to whack Cregan with his golf club, which he’s spinning around haphazardly. Both his Marlin .22 and acoustic guitar are slung across his back. There aren’t many bullets left, but everyone has a few.

“Aegon can navigate,” Luke says. “And probably impregnate ten women a day. Very useful during a population crisis.”

“We don’t need that in the gene pool,” Rhaena notes.

“You wrote stories in college, right?” you ask Luke.

“Screenplays, yeah,” he says hesitantly. “But I wouldn’t say I was super talented or anything.”

Aegon claps him on the shoulder “Well I’ve got good news for you, kid. A big chunk of the world’s screenwriters are probably dead now. So you’ll look so much better in comparison!”

“Thanks…?” Luke says.

“What I mean is,” you continue. “You could write books for people to read, since there aren’t really libraries or Barnes & Nobles anymore. And you could interview people to get their life stories and then record them so they aren’t lost forever. The next generation should know what the world was like before the zombies.”

“Yeah,” Aegon says as he pets Ice. “Someone has to tell them about blue raspberry Icees, right Blue Raspberry Icee?”

“Maybe,” Luke says thoughtfully, and you notice that he’s smiling a little.

Ice begins whining, and there is a rustling in the woods to the north, low-hanging branches of bigleaf maple and dogwood and Douglas fir trees being forced aside. “Zombie!” Aegon announces, pointing. Immediately, Daeron nocks an arrow and then releases it, and the figure draped in the shifting shadows of foliage drops to the ground.

“Hey Aegon,” Daeron says after a few seconds.

“Yeah?”

“That was actually a zombie, right?”

“Totally,” Aegon replies, but he doesn’t sound certain.

Aemond turns to his older brother accusingly. “How sure are you?”

“Like…50%.”

“Aegon!” Rhaena cries, petrified, and everyone rushes off the road to investigate.

Blessedly, the felled creature is long-dead, a former park ranger whose tan uniform hangs in gore-stained tatters. The nametag reads: Underwood. The arrow pierced its soft rotting skull and remains lodged there until Daeron pulls it out to be used again, giving Aegon an impatient scowl as he does.

“Close call,” Aegon tells him. “Think they would have charged you as an adult?”

“Lord almighty, that gave me a scare,” Cregan says, chuckling. Helaena spies a blackberry bush and begins picking a handful, and Cregan goes over to join her. Rhaena and Luke are telling Aegon that he needs to be more responsible and should have waited for Luke to confirm it was a zombie with his binoculars. You exchange a glance with Aegon: he rolls his eyes, you offer a smirk of commiseration. Ice is already trotting back towards Oregon Route 140.

You haven’t told anyone else that you’re pregnant yet, but eventually they’re going to notice that Aemond won’t leave your side. He sighs and asks you: “Have you had enough of this little field trip?”

“Definitely.” You head for the road. Aemond walks with you, placing you not on his left side but on his right where he can see you. You ask, smiling: “You don’t trust me to watch your blind side anymore, huh?”

“I prefer the view the way it is.”

You are only a few steps from the black artery of pavement that cuts through the Cascade-Siskiyou National Monument, a 114,000-acre preserve of wilderness that somehow—although it is 2,500 miles away—reminds you a bit of eastern Kentucky, endless emerald forests, the omnipotent shadows of mountains. And because you are on Aemond’s right side, he can look down and see something just in front of you on the earth strewn with knobby roots and pine needles and dead leaves.

“Don’t!” he shouts, snatching your forearm and yanking you backwards, and he’s never touched you like this before—so forcefully, so violently—and you stumble and almost fall, and your arm burns and aches where he grabbed you, and people are asking what’s going on, and you peer up at Aemond with confusion, fear, mistrust.

“Why…?”

And then you hear it rustling from the same place where you were standing a moment ago. The others yelp and dash out of the way as the snake escapes into the woods, a drab spotted olive green, a rattling tail, an angular skull like an arrowhead.

“Aemond?” you say, because he hasn’t moved, hasn’t made a sound. He looks down, and your gaze follows his. On his right calf, just a few inches above his ankle, are two small puncture wounds from the snake’s fangs, each dribbling a thin river of blood.

“Northern Pacific rattlesnake,” Helaena says, her voice shaking, tears welling up in her horrified eyes. “Venomous.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Aemond has one arm draped across Cregan’s shoulders, the other over Aegon’s. He’s moving slower, or is that just your imagination? His steps are less steady, his breathing more labored. His leg is swelling, a deep blue phantom of a bruise spreading beneath his skin, so tight it looks like it might split open.

“We’re almost there,” you say; you keep saying it, because hopefully that will make it true. “We’re only a few miles from Odessa, and we’ll find people who can help us.”

“Aemond, you’re a doctor,” Luke says.

Aemond’s voice is weak, pained, hazy. “I’m not a doctor.”

“You know what I mean!” Luke yells, frantic. “How do we fix you? What can we do?”

“Nothing,” Aemond says listlessly. “There’s nothing you can do without a hospital. I’ll either get better or I won’t.”

“People in Odessa will know how to help,” you insist. “They’re outside all the time, they hike, they hunt, they fish, they’ve seen snakebites before. They must have. They’ll have treatments.”

“Aemond,” Rhaena breathes, and you turn to see there is blood running from his nostrils. You scream, and Aemond touches his fingers to his face and then watches as they come away bloody.

“Put me down,” he tells Cregan and Aegon.

“No—” you begin, but then his knees buckle and he’s on the pavement anyway, blood pouring from his nose and his lips, blood filling up his right eye. Cregan walks to the shoulder of the highway, his head in his hands. Aegon stays beside Aemond, and you’re kneeling there with him, both of you using anything you have to clean the blood from Aemond’s face: the corners of your shirts, your bare hands.

He’s covered in blood, you think. Just like Jace, Baela, Rio.

“Can’t clot,” Aemond is murmuring. “The venom causes coagulotoxicity. Internal bleeding too. I feel like…like there’s all this pressure inside…”

Rhaena is taking Aemond’s pulse like he taught her to, fingers on the underside of his wrist. “It’s really faint,” she says quietly.

You grab a plastic Gatorade bottle filled with rainwater out of your backpack and tilt it against Aemond’s crimson-stained lips. He manages to swallow some of it. “Aemond, listen to me,” you say as calmly as you can. “You’re so close. We’re almost there. I need you to hang on a little longer.”

He shakes his head, slow dizzy motions. “It doesn’t matter.”

“They might have doctors in Odessa.” This is a fantasy, but you can’t resist it.

“Even if they do, there won’t be any antivenom. And it’s too late anyway.”

“No,” you say savagely, a sob ripping through your throat. “We didn’t cross 3,000 miles so you could die here. I won’t let you. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s not fair.”

“Aegon,” Aemond says, reaching for him, drained and fumbling.

Aegon catches his hand. “I’m here.”

His eye—crystalline blue corrupted with red, blood in clear water—drifts to his brother. “You have to get her to Odessa. You have to help take care of everyone.”

Aegon is weeping. “Man, it’s supposed to be you. How can I still be here if you aren’t?”

“You can do this,” Aemond says.

“I’ll try.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, Aemond,” Aegon says, then crawls away on his hands and knees and collapses on the pavement, gutted, inconsolable, hemorrhaging grief instead of gore.

Everyone is crying and touching Aemond—his face, his hands—saying goodbye, accepting tasks, and they come away stained with red, and rain has begun to fall from a dark sky growling with thunder. Rhaena takes his medical kit. Helaena takes his Glock and stows it away in her messenger mag. Then Aemond looks for you, and now you are alone with him here in the middle of the highway, two golden lines on black asphalt, and with your thumbprint you whisk away the rivulet of blood that is spilling from his eye.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispers as his heart fails, as his lungs fill with blood instead of air, as his pores leak rust and ruin. “Odessa will be everything we hoped for. I just won’t be there with you.”

“You can’t leave me,” you’re saying as rain patters against the road. I left my family and now my family is leaving me.

“Love,” he sighs, almost too softly to hear. “I don’t want to.”

You lie down on the pavement with him and rest your head on his chest, feel it rise and fall beneath you as the rain descends in sheets. And then Aemond exhales, deep and rattling, and he never tastes oxygen again, never speaks, never touches you. You don’t move from where you’re lying. You’re there until you’re drenched to the bones with rain and the world is a cold mist of pine trees, of wilderness, and you can never go back to any of the places you’ve been before, you can never get back the people you’ve left there.

Aegon is shaking you. “We have to keep moving,” he chokes out through tears.

You reply without looking at him. “I’m giving up now.”

“No you’re fucking not. We have to walk to Odessa.”

“Everyone’s dead in Odessa. Everyone’s dead everywhere. I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to stay in a world like this.”

On the periphery of your vision, you can see Aegon glancing at the others, standing just off the highway and under the canopy of the pine trees. He seems defeated, he seems lost.

Then suddenly Aegon turns back to you. “Hey!” he screams, so loudly you jolt upright, your palms on wet pavement, rain dripping from your hair. “I’m still alive. You’re still alive. This isn’t over yet. I said I would get you to Odessa, so that’s where we’re going. Stand up. Right now.”

Aegon holds out his hand. Thunder booms, lightning strobes, and then you take it. He pulls you to your feet and hesitates, as if he didn’t think he would get this far. Then he throws his arms around you, a crushing desperate embrace, a wordless devotion, a silent vow, sobbing into the curve of your neck, tasting the copper and iron of his brother’s blood on your skin.

“We have to keep moving,” he says again, like an apology, like he understands how impossible it feels. “The storm’s getting worse. It’ll be too dark to see soon.”

“We can’t leave him alone like this.”

“That’s not Aemond anymore,” Aegon pleads. “Aemond’s gone. And he would want us to live.”

Now the others are here on the road too: Daeron, Helaena, Cregan, Rhaena, Luke, Ice whimpering and licking scarlet stains of blood off your hands. You’re all holding each other; you’re all any of you have left. Cregan carries Aemond off the pavement and on a patch of grass alongside Route 140, the seven of you cover his body with branches of pine needles and white petals from dogwood trees. Rhaena is the first person to begin walking again, heading east. One by one you follow her. The downpour is torrential; if you are attacked now, you are nearly blind. Aegon stays beside you no matter how slow your steps are. You think if he disappears, you will too; the strings that tie you to the earth will fray and unweave and your bones will turn to mist, your voice will only be the wind howling down mountainsides. You have no way of knowing how long you’ve been walking or how many miles are left. You wonder what will happen to Aemond’s child if there is nothing for you in Odessa.

The rain is stopping. Now you can hear crows, woodpeckers, formations of geese honking in a foggy sky and squirrels scrabbling up tree trunks. Falcons perch watchfully on dead power lines. Rare aisles of sunlight are breaking through dissipating clouds.

They rise up out of the verdant jungle, a tangle of Pacific ninebark and blue elderberry: four figures in green camouflage, two men and two women, all wearing tactical sunglasses and wielding assault rifles, M16s you’re fairly sure, automatic and with 20-round magazines. Daeron moves to nock an arrow and then stops when he sees you’ve put up your hands. The others follow your lead: palms empty, willingly surrendering.

It’s them, you think dazedly. The people in Odessa. They’re alive, they’re real.

“Please cooperate and hand over all your weapons,” one of the women says, fifties, muscular, alert hawkish eyes.

No one moves. Then you unholster your Beretta M9—received from the U.S. Navy almost exactly five years ago, a different lifetime, a different world—and hold it out to the woman in your open palm. And now everybody else is giving their weapons over too: Aegon and Luke’s .22s, Rhaena’s Ruger, the spare Ruger and Aemond’s Glock hidden in Helaena’s burlap messenger bag, Daeron’s compound bow, Cregan’s axe. Ice peers up at Cregan anxiously, her yellowish eyes wide, but she wags her tail when he runs one of his large, calloused hands over her rain-soaked fur.

Aegon is still clutching his golf club. One of the men stares at him, incredulous. “You can keep that, son,” he says.

The woman nods to the men. “Nick and Glen will escort you five miles up the road, and then return your weapons. We ask that you keep moving and do not turn around. We don’t want trouble, but we can defend ourselves. Don’t think you can double back tomorrow and try to loot us or anything. This is your only warning. Do you understand?”

Aegon nudges your hand with his knuckles, then taps you harder when at first you’re too shellshocked to notice. You have to explain. You have to tell them why you’re here.

“I…I…” You begin, unable to make the words leave your lips, rats from a sinking ship, plummeting bodies from a burning building. Here you stand on a precipice, and with so many other people to save. “I served in the Navy with Bryan Osorio. We left Saratoga Springs together. He told me it would be safe here.”

Now they are interested. Slowly, the woman lowers her M16. “You know the Osorios?”

“I do.” I’ve known them for half a decade.

“Could any of them identify you and verify what you’re saying?”

“His wife, Sophie. She’s blonde, and she likes elephants, and she had a baby recently.”

The woman is scanning the faces behind you. “And where’s Bryan?”

“He’s not here anymore,” you say, and now you’re sobbing again. Aegon is squeezing your shoulder, his head bowed. “I’m sorry. I wanted to help him get home. I was supposed to warn him, I was supposed to stop it from biting him, but I didn’t and now he’s gone—”

“Okay, okay.” The woman motions for you to calm down, but her voice is kind. “Who are these guys? Your colleagues, your friends?”

“They’re my family.”

“You can vouch for them?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll all submit to searches for bitemarks?”

“Yes.”

The woman turns to the men she called Nick and Glen. “Take them inside, will you? Get the ID verified and then we’ll process everyone.”

“Got it,” the older man says. And then, to you and your companions: “Follow me.”

Nick and Glen lead you into the forest, the canopy of pine needles so thick the daylight turns to dusk, and you think of lightning bugs, of firelight, of drinking Guinness on the beach with Rio on Diego Garcia. There are several patrols, groups of four or five, that approach to stop you until they see Nick and Glen and wave you through. Then the trees open into a meadow of buttercups and daisies and pink fawn lilies, and beyond that an immense village, some houses decades old, others currently being constructed with logs from pine trees. There are hundreds of people tending to livestock, hanging up laundry to dry on clotheslines, digging in gardens, making candles and soap and butter. There are children playing without fear, giggling as they chase after scampering dogs, challenging each other to games of kickball and Uno.

In front of one of the houses that predates the apocalypse, brick with a screened-in porch, there is a small blonde woman standing in a garden, smiling and chatting with a middle-aged couple. The baby she carries against her chest in a blue sling has dark curly hair like Rio’s.

Sophie and the baby are here. They’ve been alive the whole time.

You rest a palm on your belly without realizing you’re doing it. “What happens now?” you ask Aegon.

“The rest of our lives.”

It is unimaginable, it is impossible, it is so full of luminous potential you feel like the light will spill out of your pores like blood, it’s an oasis, it’s a second chance, it’s an island in the vast lethal untamed blue of the Indian Ocean.

“Let’s go,” Aegon says softly, taking your hand and leading you across the field of wildflowers, kaleidoscopic blooms in the last days of summer.

[nipuni]

We went to see Phantom Madrid last weekend!! ❤️ Geronimo Rauch was amazing!! I'm going to write my thoughts on the whole performance under a cut for those interested 😊

I am going to be comparing it to the London version for reference since it's the only one I've seen live. I think my first impression was that It was better than I expected it to be! I read opinions about the Trieste production and I was a little worried but I found that I enjoyed a lot of the things I've seen being criticized.

The stage spinning around was awesome and added so much depth to scenes and made transitions very smooth. The backdrops were very nicely done!

As for costumes I think they were pretty good with the exception of Aminta's dress and the Masquerade costumes being kind of underwhelming.

The singing was good overall, although the translated lyrics are weird sometimes. The main songs translate well but some others become very confusing in Spanish, some wording seems forced and some notes are slightly altered to fit the phrases. Raoul is very calm and soft, maybe a little too much at times, Christine is very neutral and simple. Geronimo was amazing tho no notes!

Now the acting! I have opinions 😫 This show was very Christine and Raoul centric to such an extent that it flattened the plot for me 😬 Christine seems scared and disgusted from start to finish so there is no conflict in her character. She is never torn, she recoils from the phantom's touch during Music of the Night, and during Final Lair she sings the "pitiful creature of darkness" lines looking at Raoul the whole time backing away towards the phantom and steeling herself and only turns reluctantly at the last second to kiss Erik. She comes back to return his ring and just leaves it on the organ stool as soon as he turns around because she's scared to get close to him, when he sings "I love you" she shakes her head at him 🥹 like girl please give us something!!

Geronimo's phantom is a delight tho!! He whimpers, crawls, cries, screams, pants, it's great. He's acting his butt off and is the highlight of the show for me.

A thing that I really liked was in the end when the mob comes Erik is curled up in his bed crying and Madame Giry finds him there and tells him to hide under the covers and leads the mob away from him, I thought it was sweet and transitions into LND nicely.

OH also!! I really enjoyed the Phantom swinging on a rope across the stage during the ballet and Buquet's hanging, it's so good!! the flaming chandelier scene is also good!! in Final Lair they actually hang Raoul in the air which was very nice too! (and with his shirt still on) and even the angel wings and flying that I've seen people hating on was honestly so cool. It didn't look as goofy as I expected it to, it's very smooth and the lighting makes it scary, he casts thunder and flies!! the wings are not very visible since the scene is very dark. The light work was super good in general.

Masquerade and Don Juan were a bit of a let down, much simpler but not bad. I think my main issues were about the choices for Christine really 🤔 and I think some scenes needed more movement, especially the roof one (they couldn't move because they are sitting on a ledge)

The show in general feels a bit one note compared to the West End version but it was good!! I'm just nitpicky 😂 also I want Geronimo's autograph!! I love him 😭

Anyway if you want to see/hear more let me know on discord wink wonk 😁

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 2: Heartbreak on the Map

From: Bigger Houses Series

Pairing: (Future) Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader, Ari x his ex mentioned

Summary: It’s okay to grieve and sulk after a breakup, but at some point, you need to gather yourself together and find the things that make you the happiest, best version of yourself. This is Ari trying to do that, but not perfectly.

Word Count: 1,643

Content/Warnings: Mentions of excessive alcohol consumption, heartbreak and descriptions of how it’s dealt with, Ari being reckless but lucky, lovesick/hopeful thoughts despite a previously broken heart, angst high key stress me out, but did I just write some???, lmk if I missed any

Author’s Note: I honestly like this chapter way better than the first one. I’m not sure why it just flowed better and was way easier to write, despite being shorter. As always, likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are very appreciated. Please send me an ask, I’m begging.

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Below is the song this is based off. I strongly suggest you listen, not only because it helps give vibes, but it’s also a really good song with creative lyricism.

< Prev | Series Masterlist | Next >

Ari’s breakup

This barstool knew his name by now, as he sat there sometime around midnight nursing another longneck beer, alongside a couple abandoned whiskey glasses. He’d asked around town if anyone had seen her. That girl. The one that did him wrong, left him here sitting like an old, sad country song. That kind that bars play all night long on the jukebox. He’d know that’s what they play, he was there every night. He didn’t know where to look anymore.

Ari had no idea where she could possibly be at this point. Could have been west of Texas, east of Tennessee, but he didn’t care. Because all that mattered was that she wasn’t here with him anymore. It all went south, and maybe she did, too, as he watched her taillights fade in a dust cloud. No goodbye kiss. Ari was left to wonder, with only whiskey on his lips.

He had hardly slept in weeks. The beer and whiskey sometimes had the opposite intended effect, not aiding his sleep, but keeping him up to overthink. The truth was, he knew why the relationship ended. It wasn’t his fault, and he could tell it wasn’t meant to be from the start. But he was mostly happy, and he thought that’s what he deserved: to be mostly happy and to settle down because it seemed that was all she wanted. But that’s all he was doing: settling. She never pushed him, unless it was to find a way to make more money and support her, but Ari didn’t truly want that life. He didn’t want to come home to a perfect little housewife. But she wanted that. And she kept pushing, and he kept molding himself to her demands, because love is compromise, right?

No. Not if it’s only on one side.

Despite knowing better in the back of his head, Ari convinced himself there was something he could do. Making use of another restless night, he threw the covers off and shuffled out of the bedroom and into the rest of his small shack of a cabin provided by his ranger job. He found himself sprawled at the dining room table with papers scattered all over, a magnifying glass in hand. He had looked through his old maps, trying to find all routes she could’ve possibly taken, but instead, all that he saw was heartbreak. She put it there. He leaned back and stared at the ceiling, letting out a deep sigh in frustration. Frustration of wasted years, frustration at himself for trying to talk himself into something he knew was wrong. That’s why he never got a ring, even when she pushed. He knew it wasn’t meant to be. So she left, for someone who had her ring waiting.

Losing her was heart wrenching, but also, a relief. Slipping out of your uncomfortable shoes and unbuttoning your pants after a six-mile hike kind of relief. Ari knew the one for him was still out there, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still hurting. He needed to recover the places she’d been with new memories: starting with the living room. No need for the bedroom, at least. (Another product of the voice at the back of his mind that knew she wasn’t right.) So he flopped down on the couch, tv low in the background, staring up at the ceiling, humming one of the heartbreak songs from the bar until sleep embraced him.

Ari woke up with cramps in his back and a sore neck from curling up on the couch that was just barely too small for his tall, broad frame. It was still dark out. His phone was plugged in at the night stand by the bed, so he walked over to the kitchen. The clock on the stove read 5:48 am. Might as well start getting ready for the day. He put on a pot of coffee and opened the fridge to look for leftovers to heat up. While that was going, he shuffled back to his closet and slipped on his uniform, ready to start another day in the only place that gave him true peace: the mountains. (Luckily, the only other place she hadn’t tainted. She hated the out doors.)

Ari’s days carried on like this for weeks. Wake up too early. Make coffee. Go to work. Come home. Try and sleep. Look through old paper maps. He loved routine, it often kept him sane, but he was spiraling. He needed to figure out a new one. He was sick of moping around and he was sick of putting himself down like he had done something wrong. How was she still able to hold him back after being gone? He was going to start living his life for himself again. He needed to find the schedule and the things that truly made him happy. But first, dinner.

A few months later

One of the routine things that kept Ari sane now: cleaning the house. He needed a true, clean slate, so we went and cleared off the dining room table, nicely refolding the maps which had laid there for months. Despite him having been single for so long now, he kept them there. They used to give him peace and comfort. Ari liked his old, paper maps. It was easier to see it all laid out instead of crammed onto his tiny phone. His place was a lot like that: full of things he could do with his hands, like mini projects, instead of being glued to a screen all day. But she had tainted it: she tainted his favorite things. It wasn’t as bad now, but his nervous evergy kept building up and he needed to get out of there so he didn’t scream.

Another aspect of Ari’s healing: working out. Any time he got like this and couldn’t stand being in the small space anymore, he ran. He ran until he drove all those what-ifs and doubts out of his mind, along the mountain trails and out to the cliffs where it was just him and the sky, overlooking the small town below, dwarfed even more by the mountainous elevation. He slipped on his tennis shoes and bolted out the door as quickly as he could. The mid-week afternoon air was refreshing. All he could focus on was go farther. Go faster. He kept running and running, through the trails, and didn’t even have a second thought to look when crossing the road, the music blaring in his headphones making him unable to hear any cars approaching as they went along the mountain path. As he stepped out onto the road, Ari saw movement out of the corner of his eye and his head snapped. Before he knew it, anhorn sounded and a car swerved around him, skidding to a stop as it pulled over on the narrow mountain pass. Ari jumped back into the greenery lining the road, surprised at his own recklessness that he usually preaches against. Another SUV pulled over right behind the first as he heard a driver’s side door slam shut. He could faintly hear a conversation between two women, followed by one of them emerging from between the cars.

“Oh my gosh! I thought you were a bear! I almost hit you!”

Ari was in shock from how careless he was and how he watched his life flash before his eyes.

“I-it’s really my fault. I’m not sure what I was thinking.”

He stood there with wide eyes, hands on his hips, shoulders rising and falling quickly with heavy breaths, truly in bewilderment at what had just gone down, as well as bewilderment at the woman standing before him. Something about her was so captivating that he had to force himself to look away after taking her in, hoping she didn’t think he was a creep from his reaction.

“Um, it’s ok, I just think you need to be more careful. Listen, I don’t wanna be pulled over on this stretch of road for too long, God forbid a real bear, or someone without good reflexes comes around, but, I’m glad you’re not hurt. Take care.”

And with that she rushed away, leaving Ari standing there in shock before he could even squeak another word out. He watched her and the trailing SUV until they rounded the bend and went further up the mountain.

Huh, there was only one house Ari knew of up there. It’s where an older couple used to stay during the summers, and he had only been inside once to help fix something after they sought out the ranger in his cabin, but he remembers it having the best view he could imagine, despite the cabin’s modest size. It was pretty much the perfect home. What a was she doing going up there?

Realizing he had stayed standing eerily close to the road for too long, Ari decided it was probably time to head back since the sun had started to set. He trudged through the tall trees and deeply inhaled the sharp pine scent that opened his airways and comforted him as it wrapped around him like a blanket. This was his domain, and he truly enjoyed the sanctity of his environment, but he still wished he had someone to share his favorite things with. An equal partner who appreciated this environment as much as him, but still had their own wants and didn’t force him to be what he wasn’t.

As he made his was back to his front steps, Ari looked up at the unobstructed stars that danced into the sky during his long walk home, shining brightly like every night. He couldn’t help but wonder if the one for him was looking up, sharing the same sky as him. The one who could one day share his heart.

Next >

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

What are your opinions on The Untamed? I got into MDZS by stumbling upon the donghua whilst the first season was premiering and devoured fan translations of the novel and kept up religiously with the manhua. I found out I think a year and a half ago that a live action existed and tbh, I'm not that interested. I think it's because of all the changes I've heard were made to the story and the themes and tbh, I'm not very into the graphics 😅 But my primary gripe is it supposedly not being a faithful adaption and instead a very loose one. Since on Ao3 it's somehow impossible to escape the grasp of The Untamed and I've seen so many silly fanons floating around accepted as canon due to the influence of CQL, my feelings towards it are even less generous. So many fans take CQL as the canon story instead of the novel, and its like we've read two different stories, because in many ways, we have. Still, Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan look gorgeous, and so do the rest of the cast so I'm a bit torn.

I LOVE the Untamed! (I say as I write up essays on why it's dumb and ruined themes and STUPID)

I only recommend it as a VERY loose retelling of what Mo Dao Zu Shi is. The Disney Ariel to the Hans Christen Anderson unrequited gay love letter to the world. So to speak. My one glowing compliment to it is that thankfully after fan pushback, the director, Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo were able to give us the scenes that stood out finally. And probably why we get the whole "Uncut" version of it that is solely focused on their scenes alone.

I don't recommend it as the first foray into the MDZS universe as it changes about all points of importance for a sanitized story. Themes and arcs are vastly lacking in the Live Action that the novel closes very neatly. Don't get me started how pairing Jiang Cheng with Wen Qing makes him EVEN MORE of an asshole regarding the entire Wen massacre and him letting her be burned to death. And somehow despite being an equal love story to the canon on screen Jiang Yanli/Jin Zixuan and the implied Wangxian, that just gets dropped from relevance??? BAD WRITING YANG XIA.

A lot of people of course came to fandom from the Untamed as of 2019, the book was very niche since it originally finished in 2016 and was issued physically and officially by Pinsin in 2018. A year before the Untamed aired. It was culturally a HUGE DEAL... due to it being danmei and so known as being such for it to be such a cashcow. But not for the West. For the West it was one of the biggest things since probably Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon for the genre of Xianxia and Wuxia to be renewed as an interest, or spotlighted once more. But a lot of its initial spark was because it was such an inversion of the usual standard xianxia and wuxia tropes. It places emphasis on the human of the genre over the fantasy.

CQL, tried to make it more in line with typical xianxia and wuxia out there. Doesn't quiet work as well when you have the original source turning all of these tropes and character arc expectations around and the Live Action drops those essentially for on air compliance.

The good the bad, can't be taken as the same between either because the intentions were different. Thematics cannot be scrubbed out from the original and the adaptation claimed to be the true source. The book is what the original intention was for, and worked. Sometimes adaptations lose out the canonical intention of the original but it is not the be end of it when it was reproducing what is already there.

[sketching-shark]

Would you say that the LMK writers don't understand Wukong as a character? Of course, there are different interpretations and adaptations of not only this character but many other beloved characters from different stories.

But I think if 10 different writers create a story about, say, Spider-Man. Even if they all do something different with the character, Spider-Man should still be recognizable as Spider-Man. Like there are inherent traits that simply make the character who they are.

Do you think LMK Wukong is missing those inherent traits, or I guess completely misses the point on who SWK is a character?

Monkie Kid spoilers below:

I guess I'd have to start off by saying that I'm very hesitant, especially as someone who is neither Chinese or of Chinese descent, to say whether there's a truly "wrong" way to understand or write the Monkey King. Hell I've often poked fun at the way Sun Wukong has frequently been written in Chinese retellings of Journey to the West, and it must be acknowledged that there is a MASSIVE numbers of very different ways that Sun Wukong has been depicted in Xiyouji retellings, from a silly little guy to a hardened war criminal. For example, here's a Sun Wukong who's definitely an evil little bloodthirsty scamp as presented by Stephen Chow in Journey to the West: Conquering the Demons (2013):

And here's a panel of the Monkey King "Aku" from Marjorie Liu's (who's of Taiwanese descent) Monstress. Here he's feasting on fruit while watching the souls of a bunch of kids that he had slaughtered be tortured for information:

So yes, there's a pretty big difference between these version of the Monkey King and many others, including his multifaceted presentation in the og classic and the laid-back goof that Monkie Kid seems to be aiming for! THAT SAID, and even while acknowledging that the Monkey King as a character has gone through innumerable transformations (lol), I can't help but feel like the writers for Monkie Kid might be letting their Sun Wukong fall prey to the all-too-common push for "more epic!," "The antagonists were right all along," "Pile on the angst!" and the kind of standard taking out the "intelligent" in "intelligent stone monkey" that you see in other western versions of the Monkey King. For example, Netflix's The New Legend of Monkey stars a muscleheaded and illiterate Monkey King, and while it was more of a one-off jest that was quickly disproved in Monkie Kid it is a bit well bothersome how to this day you'll find "lol Sun Wukong can't read!" jokes being bandied about.

I also don't think that anyone can deny that lego show Sun Wukong has been presented as less and less of a competent or even heroic individual as the story's gone on, and personally I'm starting to suspect that this is partially because the writers A) didn't know how to make Qi Xiaotian shine as a hero otherwise and B) to make the Six-Eared Macaque change from obvious antagonist to a true member of team good guy. It's undeniable that Macaque is the firm fandom meow-meow and has been for awhile, and if memory serves correctly the "Sun Wukong sucks" rhetoric started to really take off after Macaque presented his shadow play back in season 2 in which the Monkey King is ultimately framed as nothing but a selfish jerk who betrays his friends on a whim. And while there's basically 0 reference in either recent canon or fanon to the stuff the shadow simian put Qi Xiaotian and his loved ones through up until the end of season 3, it's hammered in time after time after time again just how completely Sun Wukong hurt and still hurts everyone around him because of what he did or what he failed to do. As it is, now we've seen Zhu Dachu yell at SWK for failing to protect Qi Xiaotian, an entire play that framed him as a terrible person and Macaque flat-out saying he's a terrible teacher (and then the plot going out of its way to somewhat confirm this), many people yelling at SWK for his plan to use the Samadhi Fire being stupid and poorly thought out, Long Xiaojio screaming at him for failing everyone especially the people who care about him while she's on fire and in pain, the Azure Lion referring to SWK as someone who's corrupted Qi Xiaotian with his blindness, and the ink clone of Qi Xiaotian--you known, the manifestation of his scariest but truest fears--referring to SWK as a fraud and a force of destruction. So now SWK and the lego show story have been left is this weird place where it seems that in large part the "SWK completely sucks and hurts everyone" truthers were right--and you see this sentiment reflected CONSTANTLY in canon and in fanon--and yet when people just say that explicitly there's a certain amount of scrambling to argue otherwise. I know it's been discussed before, but I think it bears repeating that not that long ago the hatred being leveled at SWK for supposedly being Qi Xiaotian's deadbeat dad on top of everything else he ruined forever got to the point where a writer felt compelled to go on twitter to confirm that SWK is not the father. I think it was the same writer who said that SWK is trying his best, but as others have noted if THIS is his best (world seems like it's in danger of being destroyed every other week) well lol and also lmao. Idk, personally I think if they noted there were THAT many people ready to condemn SWK for something that wasn't even proven one way or another they should step back and think about why that is. And it definitely doesn't help that they keep saying that there's more to this story from SWK's perspective and/or what actually happened, but then they won't actually show it.

So in the end, I'm not sure if in Monkie Kid's case it's so much a instance of not understanding the Monkey King as much as it is about not wanting to stick with what makes the Monkey King so beloved in the first place, the writers themselves not having a firm idea about where they ultimately want his story to go, but also even if unconsciously using him as a punching bag/sacrificial lamb to further the stories/likeability of other characters. And who knows, maybe later episodes will give SWK a backstory that is so tragic and well written and that explains his failures in the present so well that I'll feel stupid for saying all of this. Honestly I would love it if that was the case. Because Monkie Kid seem to have become one of the main ways that a lot of people in the west are learning about the Monkey King and Journey to the West in the first place, and it would kind of suck if the main impression that they ended with was with SWK as nothing but an constant failure that basically everyone who's ever loved him or even spent time with him comes to distrust, resent, and flat-out hate for very legitimate reasons.

[veryferaldistributions]

3. For each of the fandoms from day two, what were your favorite characters to write?

Fish Hooks: Mr. Baldwin (duh!).

I enjoy the challenge of this character. Mainly because his struggle in my stories is that he’s pregnant and about to be a dad and instead of being excited about it, he doesn’t really know what to feel. So I got to write his journey as he goes through the different emotions that he has about this process.

I also really enjoy writing the version of Ms. Lips I have in my work. She’s a much gentler, more emotionally-intelligent, and wittier character than the show’s version. She’s a much better partner for Baldwin, and he deserves good things! I also really loved exploring how she’d feel about becoming a mom to someone else’s kids.

I also just loved making Coach Salmons even gayer than he was on the show. (He flirts with Baldwin to annoy him.)

Penny Dreadful: Victor Frankenstein.

Granted, my fic features only him and Caliban, but I really enjoyed taking his paternal joy that he showered on Proteus, and exploring what might happen if he showed Caliban that same kindness. I loved getting to write him so soft, and have this AU where Caliban’s re-birth is something wonderful and celebrated instead of being a traumatic nightmare for both of them.

MamaBoy: Ditto. (No, seriously, that’s his name.)

I’m not certain how many people have seen this movie, but basically Ditto is the wingman of the main character, Kelly (who is also a boy, just for clarification). He is one of the WEIRDEST characters I’ve seen in anything ever. He wears the gaudiest clothing, is so nerdy and ADHD and socially awkward, yet somehow is best friends with the most popular guy in school and is BURSTING with self-confidence. (And is also played by Sinjin from “Victorious.”)

He is also a genuinely supportive, kind hearted friend who is in a heterosexual-marriage with his BFF. And flirts with him constantly. (But I couldn’t end up shipping them! I like them better as friends, tbh! Possibly the first/only time that’s happened to me.)

He is the perfect “Leah” to Kelly’s “Juno.” I love him, and loved writing him. (This movie is not good, btw, but Ditto IS.)

Good Omens: I’m sorry, this one is a copout, because I loved writing both Aziraphale AND Crowley too much to pick between them. I enjoyed writing Zira’s fussy, fretting, and uptight dialogue, but then also Crowley’s more laid-back relaxed parts. I also enjoyed just writing them very domestic and warm-fuzzy, then to have them kinda thrown into a panic when this baby (a girl) gets dumped on their doorstep…who happens to be the second coming of Jesus. 😂

The Neighbors: Jackie Joyner-Kersee.

For two reasons. First reason is the dialogue pattern of the aliens in this show. It was a fun challenge to stay in character with them without feeling like I was completely copying from the show. (For instance, they use their full names like a first name, or their pet-name for their significant other is just “husband” or “wife.”)

Second reason is that this fic focused on the cliffhanger ending of the show, where we find out the leader of the aliens, Larry Bird (Jackie’s husband) is pregnant with his third child, and then he and his family stay behind on earth when their whole colony goes back to their home planet. (The show got canceled after season two, so the plot was never resolved.)

It was fun to focus on a woman/man mpreg story, specifically when writing about Jackie’s envy of her husband’s ability to carry the children, she feels like he has this special relationship with them. So in this rare moment of kindness from Larry (he’s kind of an ass in the show), he helps her connect with their baby.

Re-Animator: (Do I even need to say it?) Herbert West.

I have THOROUGHLY enjoyed writing Herbert. He is an enigma all his own. I’ve mainly enjoy writing him because:

1. He is VERY autistic.

2. I get to do another Frankenstein story. (I’ve also done original work that mimics Frankenstein.)

3. This is my first time writing a trans character.

I am autistic, so I’ve enjoyed using him as my first exploration of writing an autistic character (even though some of my original characters have autistic tendencies). He’s just got this quirky yet dark sense of humor, but he’s also a workaholic “reagent” addict, and he’s completely full of himself. But he’s also, at least in my fic/Combs’ headcanon, asexual. Which is nice, because I am greysexual, so I don’t feel forced to write sex scenes in this fic! 😄

He’s also a MAJOR asshole! But that’s part of the fun of writing him; he says everything I could if I had no filter or common courtesy.

Also, yes, in my fic (and MANY others) Herbert is a trans man. This is admittedly hard for me to know if I get right, because I am not a trans man myself (I am, however, genderqueer/questioning) and while his transness is not the central focus of the story, it does play a big role in it. So it’s been interesting to walk this tightrope of investing some story in this side of the character, while also keeping Herbert, well, Herbert.

Equally hard tightrope is writing him as much of an ass as in the movies, while also trying to show enough of a reason for Dan Cain to want to be married to him. 😂

[lovecolibri]

These reviews continue to deliver nothing but truth bombs.

Alas, we need to keep in mind that there are two separate issues. The first is fans missing Alex. The second is everyone missing a good story.

Alex’s absence did not cause the terrible writing, the incoherent plot, the overly packed narrative, or any of the other issues that have occurred. All you have to do is look back over the show’s history to know that these problems have always existed.

There was absolutely a way to make Alex a part of the show without the audience seeing him. It also would have tightened up the writing by giving the narrative more coherence and making room for better character arcs.

Alex’s disappearance should have been all Michael, all the time. It could have gone like this: We take the not seen sex to the bedroom and make it seen. Michael “all impulse” Guerin in the throes of passion puts a handprint on Alex. It would be the queer version of Liz being thrown into a bookshelf or Maria knocking down a painting. Now, Michael and Alex are connected. Alex gets sucked into the alien sandpit. He’s distressed. He’s scared. He’s confused. Michael feeling this rush of emotions collapses. Michael becomes possessed with finding Alex. He spends hours, days in his lair. Alex finds a way to communicate with him, growing Michael’s obsession. He feels, through the connection left by the print, Alex getting weak. Michael feels the sickness coursing through his body, and then he realizes that Alex is dying. Michael is now frantic. We then pick up with Kyle and Michael finding a way into the portal, and Michael entering.

This didn’t happen because the writers have never known what to do with Maria, so they toss her leftovers or storylines that rightfully belong in the hands of another character or worse yet give her a plot that adds little to the season’s overall narrative. It also didn’t happen because the show was full to the brim with guest stars.

***

With only two episodes left, the writers decided to pack a proposal into the episode. They’ve wasted tons of time, so now there is truly no time to waste. Michael accepts Alex’s proposal and let’s it be known that’s he’s so in love with Alex that it’s embarrassing. No, what’s embarrassing is that this show wasted so many season not taking advantage of the chemistry these two generate. These two deserve the proposal and their happy ending, but I'm still peeved that it was rushed.

Do we think they’ll get married in the pocket dimension?...I’m of two minds. Mind the first: Their crap friends don’t deserve invites to the wedding. Mind the second: Unless you subscribe to anarchy, the marriage isn’t legal until you sign the certificate, so sure go ahead, get married in the upside down.

The proposal and almost-not quite celebration sex is interrupted by Alex confessing that he’s dying of radiation poisoning. And this was the moment when all I could do was chuckle and shake my head in disgust. Not because I was surprised, but because Alex remains the writers’ favorite punching bag. I mean, Liz vapes alien mist and gets a Wild West adventure; Alex does his job and gets radiation poisoning. Similar.

***

One would think Michael and Alex could have their reunion moment without any intrusions...Sadly, the writers decided to slap the ice cream out of viewers hands by dragging Maria into the conversation. Even when we don’t see Maria, we have to hear about Maria. Apparently, she created something. The words Alex spoke were 93% too made up for me to follow.

***

I’m highly amused that Max and Michael have been traipsing around Roswell with the mark of Ophicius etched on their bodies. We basically have a situation where someone sees a cool letter or symbol from a language they don’t speak only to discover their new tattoo says ‘dead chipmunk sex is the best sex.”

***

I’ve decided not to ask how Clyde knows everything because then I’d have to ask about the burned grove of trees. It’s another moment where you stop and wonder how writing can be this awful. I mean think about it. Alex saw the trees and then someone burned the trees. Whomst’d burned the trees?...Do we really have time for another mystery or will this simply be an illogical complication for the sake of adding just one more complication? I dare say we know the answer, but I’m willing to be proven wrong.

***

Roswell, New Mexico is the psychological equivalent of believing you’ve caught Santa coming down the chimney only to discover it’s the clown from Poltergeist gnawing on a bloody reindeer leg. You can’t unsee it. You can’t forget it. And in your heart of hearts, you knew the moment was too good to be true. It was never going to be Santa. It was always going to be a bloody nightmare.

[janecrockeyre]

scum villain is a greek tragedy disguised as a regular tragedy disguised as a comedy disguised as a danmei

this is going to be long, and this is only PART ONE.

a.k.a, Analysing the plot of Scum Villain’s Self Saving System through Aristotle’s Poetics, because I Have Mental Issues

Part One: Introduction and the Tragic Hero

Scum Villain’s Self Saving System is a tragedy disguised as a comedy, unless you’re Shen Yuan, in which case it’s a mixture of a romance and a survival horror. It's a fever dream. It's a horrible, terrible book that made me feel new undiscovered emotions when I finished reading it. 

The thing is... SVSSS shares characteristics with some of the most famous tragedies in the West, such as Oedipus Rex, Medea, Antigone, the Oresteia... if you haven’t read these, I’ll explain everything. But the gist of my argument is this: SVSSS is the perfect tragedy. In triplicate. 

Tragedy as a genre is old as balls and so it has meant slightly different things to different people over the last few thousand years. I'll be focusing on ancient Greek tragedy, which was performed at the yearly Festival of Dionysus in Athens during the 500-350s BC (give or take a hundred years). Aristotle, when writing about this very specific subset of tragedy, had no idea that one day Scum Villain would be written, and then that I would be using his work as a way to look at Shen Qingqiu’s Funky Transmigration Mistake. Anyway!

Greek tragedy greatly influenced European dramatic tradition. I have a lot of opinions about white academics idolising and upholding the classics as the "paragon of culture" but I'll withhold them for now. I have no idea if MXTX has read Greek tragedy or not, so don't take this as me saying they are writing it. 

In my opinion, tragedy is a universal human constant. We are surrounded by pain and hurt and none of it makes any sense, so we seek to process that pain through drama, art, literature, etc. We want to understand why pain happens, and how it happens, and try to make sense of the senseless. The universe is cold and cruel and random. Tragedy eases some of that pain. 

On that note: Just because I am analysing Scum Villain through a Greek lens doesn't mean that it was written that way. I'm pasting an interpretation onto the book when there's probably a very rich and deep history of Chinese tragedy that I just don't know about. If you ever want to talk about that, please, god, hit me up, I would love to learn about it!! 

Anyway, tragedy. MXTX is excellent at it! Mo Dao Zu Shi? Painful dynastic family tragedy. Heaven Official's Blessing? Mostly romance, but she managed to get that pure pain in there, huh? 

But in my opinion, Scum Villain holds the crown for the most tragic of her stories. MDZS was more of a mystery. TGCF was more of a romance. Neither of them shy away from their tragic elements. 

Scum Villain would fit right in between the work of Sophocles, Euripides and Aeschylus. How? Let me show you. Join me on my mystery tour into the world of "Aristotle Analyses Danmei..."

Part One: The Tragic Hero

What is a tragic hero? Generally, Greek tragic heroes are united by the same key characteristics. He must be imperfect, having a "fatal flaw" of some kind. He must have something to lose. And he must go from fortune to misfortune thanks to that fatal flaw. 

There are two (technically three) tragic protagonists in SVSSS and all of them are tragic in different but formulaic ways. Each protagonist has their own version of “hamartia” or a “fatal flaw”. 

Actually, hamartia isn’t necessarily a flaw - rather, it is a thing which makes the audience pity and fear for them, a careful imperfection, a point of weakness in the character’s morality or reasoning that allows for bad things to happen to them. For example, in Oedipus Rex, the king Oedipus has a “fatal flaw” of always wanting to find the truth, but this isn’t exactly a flaw, right? Note: this flaw can be completely unwitting, as we see with Shen Yuan. It can also be something that the protagonist is born with, some kind of trait from birth or very young. 

Shen Yuan

Shen Yuan’s “hamartia” is his rigid adherence to fate and his inability to read a situation as anything but how he thinks it ought to be. He believes that Bingmei will grow into Bingge, and it takes several years, two deaths, and some truly traumatising sex to convince him otherwise. 

Shen Jiu

Shen Jiu’s fatal flaw is his cruelty. It is his own sadistic treatment and abuse of Binghe which directly leads to his eventual dismemberment. This is kind of a no-brainer. Of course, it isn't all that simple, and as an audience we pity him for his cruelty as much as we fear it because we know it comes from his own abuse as a child. This just makes him even more tragic. Delicious. 

Luo Binghe

Luo Binghe’s fatal flaw is a complicated mix of things. It is his position as the “protagonist” which compels him to act in certain ways and be forced to suffer. It is his half-demonic heritage, something entirely out of his control, which sets in motion his tragic reversal of fortune when he gets yeeted into the Abyss. He also, much like Shen Yuan, has the propensity to jump to conclusions and somehow make 2 + 2 = 5. 

As well as having their respective “flaws”, all three protagonists match the rough outline of a good tragic hero in another way: they are in a position of great wealth and power. Even when you split the different characters into different “versions”, this still holds true. Yes, Luo Binghe is raised a commoner by a washerwoman foster mother, but his dad is an emperor and he also ends up becoming an emperor himself. 

Yes, Shen Jiu is an ex-slave and a victim of abuse himself, but Shen Qingqiu is a powerful peak lord with an entire mountain’s worth of resources at his back. 

Shen Yuan is a second generation new money rich kid. 

Bingge is a stereotypical protagonist with a golden finger. Bingmei is a treasured and loved disciple with a good reputation and a privileged seat by his shizun’s side. 

In a tragedy, having this kind of good fortune at the beginning of your story is dangerous. Chaucer says that tragedy is (badly translated into modern english) “a certain story / of him that stood in great prosperity / and falls out of high degree / into misery, and ends up wretchedly”. If we follow this line of thinking, a good tragedy is about someone who has a lot to lose, losing everything because of one fatal point of weakness that they fail to address or understand. 

If we look at Shakespeare, this is what makes King Lear such a fantastic tragic protagonist. He is a king in control of most of England, who from his own lack of wisdom and excess of pride, decides to split his kingdom apart to give to his daughters, favouring his murderous, double crossing progeny, and condemning his only actually filial daughter to death. He loses his kingdom, his mind, and his beloved daughter, all because of his own stupidity.

This brings us to:

Part Two: Peripeteia

This reversal of fortunes is called peripeteia. It is the moment where the entire plot shifts, and the hero’s fortunes go from good to bad. Think of it like one of those magic eye puzzles, where you stare at the image until a 3D shark appears, except you realise the shark was always there, you just couldn't ever see it, waiting for you, hungry, deadly, always lurking just behind that delightful pattern of random blue squiggles. 

Each tragic hero has their own moment of peripeteia in SVSSS, sometimes several:

Shen Qingqiu

In the original PIDW, SQQ’s peripeteia presumably occurs when he finds out that Bingge didn’t perish in the Abyss but has actually been training hard to come and pay him back. There’s really not much I’m interested in saying here - as a villain, OG!SQQ is cut and dry, and the audience doesn’t really feel any pity or fear for him. As Shen Yuan often mentions, what the audience feels when they see OG!SQQ is bloodlust and sick satisfaction. There is also the trial at Huan Hua Palace, which I will talk about in Shen Yuan’s section. 

Shen Yuan (SQQ 2.0)

One of SY’s most poggers moment of peripeteia is the glorious, terrifying section between hearing Binghe for the first time after the Abyss moment, and getting shoved into the Water Prison. 

“Behind him, a low and soft voice came: “Shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu’s neck felt stiff as he slowly turned his head. Luo Binghe’s face was the most frightening thing he had ever seen.

The scariest thing about it was that the expression on his face was not cold at all. His smile wasn’t sharp like a knife. Rather, it showed a kind of bone-deep gentleness and amiability.”

This is the moment of true horror for Shen Yuan, because he knows what happens next: the plot unfurls before him, inevitable and painful, and he knows that death awaits him at Luo Binghe's hands (lol). Compare it with the bone deep certainty with which he faces his own downfall during the sham of a trial later in the chapter (I’ve bolded the important part):

“In the original work, Qiu Haitang’s appearance signified only one thing: Shen Qingqiu’s complete fall from grace. [...] Shen Qingqiu’s heart streamed with tears. Great Master… I know you’re doing this for my own good, but I’ll actually suffer if she speaks her words clearly. This truly is the saying “not frightened of doing a shameful deed, just afraid the ghost (consequences) will come knocking”!”

After the peripeteia is usually the denouement where the plot wraps up and the threads are all tied together leaving no loose ends, but because this tragedy isn’t Shen Yuan’s but the former Shen Jiu’s, it’s impossible to finish. 

Shen Yuan cannot provide the meaningful answers that the narrative demands because 1) he doesn’t have any memory of doing anything, and 2) he wasn’t the person who did them. Narratively, he cannot follow the same path as the former SQQ because he lacks the same fatal flaw: cruelty. 

This is why Binghe doesn’t kill him - because he loves him, rather than despises him. And this is why Shen Yuan has to sacrifice himself and die for Luo Binghe in order to save him from Xin Mo: because the narrative demands that denouement follows peripeteia, and SQQ’s fate is in the hands of the narrative. 

(Side note: I believe that this literal death also represents the death of OG!SQQ's tragic arc. The body that committed all those crimes must die to satisfy the narrative. SQQ must die, like burning down a forest, so that new growth can sprout from the ashes. After this, Shen Yuan's story has more room to develop instead.)

It must happen to show Bingmei that SQQ loves him too. And this brings us to Bingmei.

Bingmei

Bingmei has two succinct moments of utter downfall. The first is a literal fall - his flaw, his demonic heritage, leads his beloved shizun to throw him down into the Abyss. From his point of view, SQQ is punishing him simply for the status of his birth. He rapidly goes from being loved and cherished unconditionally, to being the victim of an assassination attempt. 

He realises that he is totally unlovable: that for the crimes of his species that he never had a hand in, he must pay the price as well: that his shizun is so righteous that no matter what love there was between them, if SQQ sees a demon, he will kill it. Even if that demon is Bingmei. 

The second moment is when SQQ dies for him. Again, from his point of view, he was chasing after a man who was struggling to see him as a human being. Shen Qingqiu’s death makes Bingmei realise that he has been completely misunderstanding his shizun: that SQQ would literally die for him, the ultimate act of self sacrifice from love: that SQQ loved him despite his demon heritage. 

Much like King Lear holding the corpse of his daughter and wailing in sheer grief and pain because he did this, he caused this, Bingmei gets to hold his shizun's cold body and cry his eyes out and know that it was his fault. (Kind of.)

(Yes, I’m bringing Shakespeare into this, no I am not justifying myself)

Maybe I'm a bit sadistic, but that scene slaps. Let me show you a comparison of scenes so you get the picture. 

Re-enter KING LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms; EDGAR, Captain, and others following

KING LEAR

Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:

Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so

That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!

I know when one is dead, and when one lives;

She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;

If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,

Why, then she lives.

[...]

 KING LEAR

And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life!

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,

And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,

Never, never, never, never, never!

Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.

Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,

Look there, look there!

Dies

Versus this scene in SVSSS: 

Luo Binghe turned a deaf ear to everything else, greatly agitated and at a loss of what to do. He was still holding Shen Qingqiu’s body, which was rapidly cooling down. It seemed like he wanted to call for him loudly and forcefully shake him awake, yet he didn’t dare to, as if he was afraid of being scolded. He said slowly, “Shizun?”

[...]

Luo Binghe involuntarily held Shen Qingqiu closer.

He said in a small voice, “I was wrong, Shizun, I really… know that I was wrong.

“I… I didn’t want to kill you…”

PAIN. SO MUCH BEAUTIFUL PAIN. Yes, I know Shakespeare isn’t Athenian, but he was inspired by the good old stuff and he also knew how to write a perfect tragedy on his own terms. Anyway. I’ll find more Greek examples later.

This post was a bit all over the place, but I hope it has been fun to read. Part Two will be coming At Some Point, Who Knows When. This is a bit messy and unedited, but hey, I’m not getting paid or graded, so you can eat any typos or errors. Unless you’re here to talk to me about Chinese tragedy, in which case, please pull up a seat, let me get you a drink, make yourself at home.

ps: if you want to retweet this, here is the promo tweet!

[armenelols]

@secondageweek day 7 - Freeform

I dug into Elrond's history a bit - and by that I mean his origin as the figure he is in the story and his place in it rather than the happenings of his life.

Looking through Tolkien's books, I've noticed a mould - if one may call it as such - into which Elrond fits; by which I mean there are stable characteristics of him that remain through all the drafts.

Their son (Elrond) who is half-mortal and half-elfin,* a child, was saved however by Maidros. When later the Elves return to the West, bound by his mortal half he elects to stay on earth. Through him the blood of Húrin (his great-uncle) and of the Elves is yet among Men, and is seen yet in valour and in beauty and in poetry.

*sentence changed to '... who is part mortal and part elfin and part of the race of Valar'

- HoME 4th, The Shaping of Middle Earth

All of the early drafts of The Silmarillion (at least in the books I own) have several things in common:

Through all of them, Elrond is the son of Eärendil and Elwing

He is half-elven

He ends up with Maedhros and/or Maglor after losing his parents

The Choice of half-elves is a bit confusing: I am not entirely sure how early-on it is present, but it is a fairly old concept nonetheless (as for my uncertainty, it is either due to me misreading the text because of the language barrier, because I didn't read through the entire books so I might have missed something, or because Tolkien wasn't clear enough - but Elrond is said to be 'bound by his mortal half', so I am not sure if that means he chose to be mortal or was mortal without a choice)

However there are a few major differences, mainly in Elrond being mortal and in some versions being the first king of Númenor; as well as the obvious absence of Elros (referred to for example in the paragraphs beneath).

The new element is the appearance of Elrond as the minstrel and counsellor of Gil-galad (in FN II §2 Elrond was the first King of Númenor, and a mortal; a conception now of course abandoned, with the emergence of Elros his brother, V. 332, §28).

- HoME 6th, The Return of the Shadow

And here, together with some of the points mentioned above:

At this stage there is no mention of a first and founder king of Numenor. Elrond was still the only child of Earendel and Elwing; his brother Elros has appeared only in late additions to the text of Q (IV. 155), which were inserted after the Numenorean legend had begun to develop. In the oldest conception in the Sketch of the Mythology (IV. 38) Elrond 'bound by his mortal half elects to stay on earth' (i.e. in the Great Lands), and in Q (IV. 158) he 'elected to remain, being bound by his mortal blood in love of those of the younger race', see my remarks on the Choice of the Half-elven, IV. 70. Elrond is here, as it seems, a leader of the Elves of Beleriand, in alliance with Amroth, predecessor of Elendil. The Last Alliance leading to the overthrow of Thu is seen as the last intervention of the Elves in the affairs of the World of Men, in itself hastening their inevitable fading.

- HoME 5th, The Lost Road and Other Writings

From what I've gathered after searching for the mentions of Elrond in several books, I understand that the major change in his character came with The Hobbit and was further developed with LotR.

From The Hobbit are also derived the matter of the Dwarves, Durin their prime ancestor, and Moria; and Elrond. The passage in Ch. iii relating him to the Half-elven of the mythology was a fortunate accident, due to the difficulty of constantly inventing good names for new characters. I gave him the name Elrond casually, but as this came from the mythology (Elros and Elrond the two sons of Eärendel) I made him half-elven. Only in The Lord was he identified with the son of Eärendel, and so the great-grandson of Lúthien and Beren, a great power and a Ringholder.

- The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien

What I find interesting is that despite using Elrond's name and some of his defining traits in The Hobbit, he still remains a different character to the one we know from later on - and just how many of those descriptions remain in The Hobbit even after Tolkien edits it to fit into his wider mythology.

For comparison:

The master of the house was an elf-friend—one of those people whos fathers came into strange stories before the beginning of History, the wars of the evil goblins and the elves and the first men in the North. In those days of our tale there were still some people who had both elves and heroes of the North for ancestors, and Elrond the master of the house was their chief.

He was as noble and fair in face as an elf-lord, as strong as a warrior, as venerable as a king of dwarves, and as kind as summer. He comes into many tales, but his part in the story of Bilbo's great adventure is only a small one, though important, as you will see, if we ever get to the end of it.

- The Hobbit, A Short Rest

And here:

The master of the house was an elf-friend – one of those people whose fathers came into strange stories of the beginning of history and the wars of the Elves and goblins, and the brave men of the North. There were still some people in those days [who were >] who had both elves and heroes of the North for ancestors, and Elrond the master of the house was one. He was as good to look at (almost) as an elf-lord, as strong as a warrior, as wise as a wizard, as venerable as a king of dwarves, and as kind as Christmas.

- The History of The Hobbit

(This point is nothing specifically Elrond-related, but I find it interesting that both descriptions talk about half-elves as if they used to be more common than they actually were)

He is called an elf-friend - which, if we look further into the books, isn't something elves are usually called. Thranduil names Bilbo an elf-friend and Gildor calls Frodo the same, and they are both hobbits; and there is also a quote by Elrond in which he specifically mentions only Men.

‘But it is a heavy burden. So heavy that none could lay it on another. I do not lay it on you. But if you take it freely, I will say that your choice is right; and though all the mighty Elf-friends of old, Hador, and Húrin, and Túrin, and Beren himself were assembled together, your seat should be among them.’

For Elrond to be called an elf-friend implies he himself is not an elf, rather associating him with mortals - which he is not, but once was and the remains of it still echo in the text.

The remaining part of the description is the most well-known one, and if one looks closer into it, there is a pattern to it: fair as an elf-lord. Strong as a warrior. Venerable as a king of dwarves. Wise as a wizard. But Elrond is not those things, is he?

Starting with the most obvious ones: king of dwarves, a wizard. He is specifically said to have qualities of people he is not. The next one is a bit of a stretch since Elrond fought in quite a few wars, but outside of this description, he is rarely referred to as a warrior. Herald, master of Rivendell, healer, loremaster; but not a warrior. It's not how Elrond sees himself; it's not like he presents himself. He is a warrior, but to him, it's less of an important part of himself and more as something he has to do from time to time so he can return to his usual interests. Even Boromir says the strength of Elrond lies in wisdom and not in arms - for all of Elrond's experience, he lacks both an army and an interest in participating in battle (though he does so if needed).

Then the most important part: He was as noble and fair in face as an elf-lord / He was as good to look at (almost) as an elf-lord. Both of these lines imply that he looks like an elf-lord (or very close to one) - but considering all of the other previously mentioned comparisons compared his traits to something he is not, it is fair to assume that's what's going on here as well. Not because he is not an elf-lord; but because at a time when the original version of the story was written, Elrond was still mortal - and even when that was changed, I presume Tolkien left it there due to his half-elven heritage. Elrond was never fully an elf.

Elrond is hardly ever grouped with other elves; instead, despite choosing to be of the Eldar, he is more often than not linked with Men (Númenoreans in particular) - and other than his heritage and obvious connection to them through Elros, I think that his previous state of mortality and being the king of Númenor in his brother's absence might be a remnant of that as well. A similar thing happens with Elladan and Elrohir, who are more often than not their own thing instead of Elves or Men.

If we look further into The Lord of the Rings, Elrond's connection with Men remains. There are quite a few examples of this: remarks by several characters, the closeness of him to Isildur's line, the connection between Elladan and Elrohir and the rangers.

'Would that Elrond were here, for he is the eldest of all our race, and has the greater power.'

This line is spoken by Aragorn in The Houses of Healing - and he speaks of Elrond as being of his race - Dúnedain, Númenoreans, Humans.

[thevindicativevordan]

On Lois Lane

Figured it well past time I got to the matriarch of the Superfamily, especially since I already wrote about the other major "LL" in Superman's life.

Hardest part of writing about Lois is what more can be added that hasn't already been said? She's The Love Interest when it comes to female supporting characters, so iconic and successful that like Superman himself, she's inspired countless copycats: Iris West, Vicki Vale, the current video game version of MJ Watson, if your hero has a love interest who is a reporter, they're drawing on the archetype that Lois established. She was there from the very beginning, before there were Krypton, Smallville, the Kents, the Rogues, before Superman could even fly Lois was there.

And my God is she such a fantastic character in her own right.

Whereas Clark himself is pretty damn different if you compare and contrast his Golden Age incarnation with his modern incarnation, Golden Age Lois is pretty recognizable as Lois Lane. Feisty, independent, scornful of danger and of cowardice (especially in a "peer" like Clark), a bit in awe of Superman while also eager to press him for information about himself, willing to throw herself into danger if she can get that exclusive scoop. Her personality in the early comics is much more like her modern incarnation than the lovestruck wanna-be housewife she became in the Silver Age. Lois is one of the few characters who basically came into comics perfect from Day 1.

I love the Rucka idea that she somehow has everyone's number and can call up anyone from the lowliest criminal to the highest politicians. I like when writers show that she herself is able to wear a variety of disguises, something I'm sure she and Clark can bond over once he reveals his identity to her. And I love that she is basically waging a one-woman war against corruption and evil in Metropolis long before Superman shows up, something the Superman & Lois show highlighted.

It's easy to see why Clark would fall for her. Even putting aside that Lois is hot as hell, she's a great foil to him personality wise. They both are committed to rooting out social ills and taking the fight to crime and oppression wherever it rears it's head, from the Lexcorp boardroom, to the darkest underbelly of Metropolis. They both are kind and compassionate, but have explosive tempers if you piss them off. They both love to snark, although Lois has more bite whereas Clark is more deadpan.

The biggest contrast, and honestly the biggest turn on for Clark, is that Lois is free from doubt. Clark is constantly second-guessing himself, worrying about how others see him, worrying about whether he's making the right choices or if he's approaching his heroics/journalism the right way. Lois? Lois never second-guesses herself, never allows the doubts or opinions of others to affect her course in life. She knows her dad is disappointed and upset with her and she couldn't care less. She knows others think she's a bitch and that only amuses her. She's confident and self-reliant and those are attributes Clark wants desperately to posses himself. How could he not fall head over heels in love?

Why Lois would fall in love with Clark is a bit trickier. It's easy to see why she would love Superman, which is part of why Clark wants her to love the "whole" of him and not just the public persona. Superman is confident, Superman is powerful, Superman kicks ass, he's kind and intelligent, he's a huge celebrity, who wouldn't love him? Clark? Eh he's easy on the eyes but he doesn't really have much of a presence. That's how everyone else views Clark. Lois, I think, would start off viewing Clark as a dweeb who will be gone in a week, the big city too much for him. That he sticks around and toughs it out impresses her. That he manages to outscoop her multiple times infuriates and intrigues her. That he manages to live in Metropolis and see how rotten it can be beneath the shiny gilded exterior, yet doesn't lose his sense of optimism, his faith in other peoples inner goodness, his "naivety" so to speak? I think that's what would make her fall in love with him.

Lois is at heart a "cynical idealist" in my estimation. The cynical side is she's someone who will always fight for the truth, for justice, but I don't think she believes that peoples inherent goodness will win out in the end most of the time. She's seen how selfish people can be, how uncaring, and I think before Clark shows up there's a part of her that thinks she's just bashing her head against a wall trying to change things. The idealist part of her is that she will continue to bash her head against that wall of public indifference anyway. Lois will always fight even if nobody else will fight alongside her, she'll keep writing articles and investigating long after a lesser woman would give up, because it's the principles that matter damnit, even if only to her. That Clark is someone who will join her in that fight while still believing that the rest of the public can be swayed to join them is what I see as the reason why she finally gives him a chance, that optimism remaining in Clark is refreshing and uplifting to her. That he's also hot and can trade banter with her doesn't hurt his chances any.

Lois becoming a mom has been really interesting, even if I haven't always been wholly satisfied with how they've handled the relationship between her and Jon. I haven't seen enough of Lois traits in Jon to really buy him as her offspring, I hope that changes. While I'm not the biggest fan of Tom Taylor to put it mildly, I liked that he emphasized Lois' importance with regards to Jon becoming Superman in interview leading up to the first issue, and I hope we get lots of Lois/Jon interaction in Superman: Son of Kal-El that really flesh out their relationship. At the very least I want to see Jon get some of that Lois patented verbal bite to him.

One last thought with regards to Lois: how the hell was Tom King the first one to realize that Lois and Selina would immediately hit it off?

They're both so similar when you think about it: Brunettes who are willful and independent, who flaunt the rules to get what they want, who outright laugh when their male significant others try to order them around, yeah I totally can see the two of them becoming friends. I really hope that gets continued under someone else, since I don't think anyone other than King has really played with it, but I love the idea of Lois having a "gal pal" that's also caught up in the insanity of life with a superhero.

If not Selina I'd like to see Lois being shown to have a friendship with her copycats such as Vicki or Iris or the rest. Definitely with Cat (even though Cat Grant can drive her up the wall sometimes). More girls' nights out/double dates for Lois, that's all I'm saying.

[fandomblr]

Let’s talk about racism in Tolkien’s Legendarium

Trigger warnings: racism, (obviously) anti-blackness, possible anti-black caricatures, racism towards Asian people.

I feel like something that I don’t see addressed in the Tolkien fandom are instances of racism in his work. Now, Tolkien himself was allegedly pretty anti-racist during both war and peacetime, BUT ultimately he was still a British white man that lived in the 1920’s and his writing does show some (although very possibly unintended) racism towards Black and brown people. Note that I am a pale Latino and thus I cannot speak for BIPOC, however, I will be using my readings from HoME (The Lays of Beleriand and The Shaping of Middle-Earth) to show very valid instances of where Tolkien’s racism has been argued for, and I’ll link some research about these criticisms. I strongly encourage BIPOC to add on or correct me on this post, since I do have have a lot of white privilege from being light-skinned.

The first instance of racism in Tolkien legendarium are the race of orcs. And before I go any further, let me show a passage from the Lay of Leithian (taken from The Lays of Beleriand) in which Beren, Finrod and his men are disguising themselves as orcs in order to pass through Angband:

“They smeared their hands and faces fair with pigment black,” which shows us first of all that the color of the orcs skin is ultimately dark/black, at least of the orcs here in Angband during the first age. This also implies Blackface being done by Beren, Finrod and his men here, and while it was used as a survival tactic to pass through Angband without being killed/enthralled/tortured, it’s still pretty darn racist. Black people have also spoken about how orcs have been written (intentionally or unintentionally, we probably will never know) as anti-black caricatures, and this is one article discussing this by a Black person that I found eye-opening.

Another instance of the orcs being racist caricatures is in that in a private letter Tolkien describes them as “squat, broad, flat-nosed, sallow-skinned, with wide mouths and slant eyes: in fact degraded and repulsive versions of the (to Europeans) least lovely Mongol-types." Obviously, this is clearly racism towards Asian people, and journalists have even written about how orcs look like the worst depictions of the Japanese drawn by American and British illustrators during WW2. The same article above also speaks about the Haradrim and Easterlings in the LOTR movies clearly having inspiration from Eastern and non-Western cultures.

Next, another probably more well-known racist issue in The Silmarillion fandom is Maeglin, (Meglin here in HoME’s The Shaping of Middle Earth) who is described as ‘swart,’ aka meaning dark-skinned, and so was his father, Eöl:

Obviously this is racist because Maeglin is CLEARLY a villain of color in this scenario, (he is the cause of the fall of Gondolin plus he basically tries to rape his cousin Idril and kill her child) in a world where other “good” characters are either described as white or whose race is simply not stated. If there were more EXPLICITLY elves of color in the Silm this wouldn’t be as much of a problem, but Maeglin here is one of the few elves (besides his father, who was clearly also a villain) whose skin color we know about, and what color is that? Swart, aka brown. What’s even worse is the fact that Eöl pretty much coerced Aredhel (who we can assume to be white since she’s known as the “White lady of the Noldor” and her skin was described as pale) into marrying him and having his child, which just perpetuates the racist stereotype of men of color being dangerous to white women. Tolkien, sweetie, this definitely reeks of racism.

Next are the men of the East of Beleriand, of who we get a pretty clear description of in The Annals of Beleriand from HoME The Shaping of Middle-Earth:

Here these men aredescribed as having lots of body and facial hair (which is a trait that can be seen in people of color) and their skins are “sallow or dark.” This is probably the least incriminating piece of evidence on this post because as you can tell, not all the men of the East were evil. Bor and his sons specifically were not, and they were loyal to the Sons of Fëanor. However, Ulfang (Ulfand in HoME) betrays the Fëanorians and ultimately is responsible for the tragedy of the Nirnaeth. And even worse, Bor and his sons are even slain by him (although Ulfang did pay his treachery with his life) here in this version. And as a whole, the Easterlings are described as more being on Morgoth’s side than on the elves, and like I said earlier, they draw a lot of non-western inspiration that can identify them as people of color, especially from the cinematic trilogy. Although these men are ultimately supposed to earn redemption during the Dagor Dagorath (aka the end of time when Melkor comes back from the void and the last battle is fought) this doesn’t erase the fact that Tolkien chose to villanize an entire group of Eastern people who we can assume to be people of color. The fact that they are called men from the ‘East’ while Aman/Valinor/the Gray Havens are considered the ‘West’ just shows you how eurocentric Tolkien’s works are by themselves, but that’s another topic for a different post. At the end of the day, lots (if not most of) these men were men of color that were portrayed as treacherous, unfaithful and even “accursed” in the case of Uldor, Ulfang’s son. All traits which demonize people of color in Tolkien’s legendarium.

Now here is the question that’s worth all three silmarils: was Tolkien aware of his racism as he should have been as an allegedly “anti-racist” that was born in South Africa? I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that, and as a person with white privilege I don’t think I’d be qualified to answer this question regardless. This is why again, I’m encouraging BIPOC Tolkien fans to come forward (as long as they want to and are comfortable of course, since this is a triggering topic) and share their criticisms on Tolkien and how he portrays race in his legendarium, add on to what I found and correct me if they think I added something wrong. The thing is, even if Tolkien was intentionally racist, the man died in 1973, and sadly Christopher passed away last January. So it’s up to us as the Tolkien fandom to not only recognize but also address and challenge these racist concepts in his work, and make sure we are creating an environment that’s safe for fans of color and marginalized ethnic groups like myself. One of the things I love about our fandom is the diversity in fanart, since I’ve seen lots of elves drawn as POC and I really want to keep seeing this, but we also have to take into consideration how racism plays into LOTR and all of Tolkien’s works so we can be mindful consumers of it.

[fromiftowhen]

The Rookie: 3x09 Amber Thoughts/Spoilers

I have… a LOT of thoughts about this episode. Unsurprisingly, the majority of them are Chenford related, but I had a LOT of West and Lopez feels too, so. Here we go. I started to try to get my feelings out, but it just became me copying quotes that I either laughed or had other feelings about, so…

“Grey’s busy, and Smitty’s getting a back tattoo.”

“That’s --”

“Don’t ask.

-- When I say I laughed out loud. Jackson and Smitty’s relationship is one of the best callbacks this show does, and every mention of that ridiculous man is hilarious.

“But it’s super important she doesn’t get shot today.”

“No promises. You ride with me, you ride the rollercoaster.”

-- Nyla Harper is my favorite person. She was excellent in this episode, from the very beginning to the sweet moment at the end (that ending scene did NOT need to be about Nolan, this should have been solely focused on Lucy and Jackson and what they accomplished today, but I can’t say I’m surprised. But Harper made it better.)

Tim tossing the list out the window immediately.

“You know, littering is a $250 fine.”

“Worth it.”

Lucy pulling a backup list right out. They know each other SO well.

-- HILARIOUS. Although I’ll admit my guard was up the moment she pulled that list out and used the word “trickery.” It worked out differently than I thought it would, but… well. We’ll get to that.

“I knew my TO would be important to my career. But I don’t know. I didn’t realize how important you’d be to my life.”

-- I should have been more prepared for the Lopez and West feelings today. Their relationship probably started out the rockiest of all the TO/rookie pairings, and maybe rightfully so… but it’s become the least complicated, the closest to friendship the fastest, and their bond is just really something. Jackson was right - a LOT has happened in their 13 months together (yes, show, I remember exactly how long it’s been -- do you?) and they’ve both grown and changed in such wonderful ways. Angela looked sentimental the whole episode (while still being her badass, hilarious self) and West looked SO relaxed, it was such a lovely bookend to their first days together.

“I wish someone taught me how to be in this one.”

“Oh, so we are in a relationship.”

-- All the references to a relationship were good, if not entirely baity. But Tim’s delivery of that line was amazing and made me laugh out loud. He sounds so long-suffering and very much like an exasperated husband, and it really pinpointed one of the ways they interact that just WORKS so well. It just feels natural, and Eric Winter’s delivery was great.

“Tell me the truth -- Am I gonna poop myself?”

-- This entire conversation was so randomly hilarious (but added levity they all clearly needed then). Harper and Lopez are hilarious together and I truly wish the show gave us more of that.

“Don’t worry -- I will personally stand watch over your kid until you leave the hospital.”

-- Jackson West. I love you.

“I really hope our last shift together doesn’t end with that.”

“Yeah, me too.”

-- EMOTIONS.

Tim distracting her with her list. The man KNOWS her. And him acknowledging that she’s been to hell and back. Again, I say -- EMOTIONS. It was such a good callback to him knowing she needs to focus on work and order and process to remain calm in some situations.

“One look from you could send me into a tailspin.” And one day, it will again -- in an entirely different way, I am SURE. The way they both knew she was referring to Plain Clothes Day was great.

“I dunno. Smitty is surprisingly maternal.”

“That is the most horrifying idea I’ve ever heard, and I want it to be a reality show so bad.”

“Right? I would watch the hell out of that.”

-- Lowkey this was the most hilarious exchange of the night. I would also watch the hell out of that reality show. All these little moments made me miss Lopez and West together so much. Their scene at the end of the episode was lovely. All the times he thanked her. Please still let them interact often. The show NEEDS it.

“We did it.”

“No. You did it.” THE MOST TIM BRADFORD THING I’VE EVER HEARD.

“Office Chen impressed me with every decision she made today. I will miss riding with her.”

The callback to the evaluation in Plain Clothes Day. My heart skipped a beat, honestly. The way that Tim was looking at her in this scene while she read the note was… it was a lot, and apparently too much for me to process currently because that’s the most intelligible thing I’ve got to say about it.

“You don’t let anyone ever tell you you can’t do something. Not even me.”

-- WHILE HE HELD THE HANDSHAKE. This one line tells you all you need to know about Tim Bradford and his RELATIONSHIP with Lucy Chen, honestly. He knows she’s “as tough as they come” and has “been to hell and back” and he knows, even if it scares him, even if it gives him flashbacks to Isabel, that she can do it.

Her gift to him was such a nice callback. For a show that doesn’t seem to track or care about its actual timeline, they’ve done a wonderful job with callbacks especially this season, and especially Tim and Lucy related ones. All the Caleb/Rosalind stuff. All Isabel mentions. Multiple mentions of Plain Clothes Day and their first day riding together, etc.

Every. Single. Time. He has called her Lucy this season, I have had to compose myself, none more than in this episode. I do kind of wish they’d waited until that last moment to have him call her Lucy (to her face, we all know I don’t think the phone call scene from season one, although one of their very best moments, counts)... it might have felt slightly more impactful (although the moment in the season premiere was great in its own way.)

Honestly, it was a little weird for me watching the show tackle their final moments as TO/rookie because I’ve written so many versions of that myself? (And look, I’m not gonna lie, their version gave me feelings, but I liked mine better). I wish that truly lovely garage scene hadn’t come on the heels of that “confession” scene, but it did help make up for it.

You might have noticed that I specifically skipped over that “confession” scene in the shop. As soon as he started talking about lying and UC work, I said “ugh” and then immediately wrote the scene in my head -- down to her laugh, it was that predictable once you got the gist. And I’m going to be honest -- if I had written it, I would have deleted it.

I KNEW going in -- and I think most people will agree -- that this was not going to be a true confession. That we weren’t going to get a Chenford love confession tonight (and please, can we discuss that ‘canon’ and ‘endgame’ are not interchangeable for just a sec.) But the way it happened just felt SUPER ship baity, and using it in the promo even more so. I just felt super pandered to in a ridiculous way that didn’t leave me with the most pleasant feelings about the writers… the garage scene at the end definitely helped, but overall the confession scene left a sour taste.

The thing is -- the things she said? How he saved her? How the reason he’s protective of her is that he might have feelings too? Those are all valid things! And things that, at least in fic, I believe. But watching that scene, me, someone who can read something shippy in the TINIEST glance? I didn’t FEEL those things. I wasn’t nodding along like “yep, yep, that’s all true” -- there wasn’t a moment during that scene where they looked at each other and I thought “yes, this is hitting too close to home for one of them.” Maybe that’s just me. I don’t know.

And I don’t know if that’s because I was too in my feelings about being badly pandered to, or if it just wasn’t there, or what. But… just overall I’m left with a feeling that it was just an entirely unnecessary scene that probably didn’t serve the ship well, just judging by some reactions I’ve seen.

Those feelings though? The ones I wanted to feel in that confession scene? I FELT THOSE, every single one of them, in the parking garage scene at the end.

Every look was perfect. Every pause, the handshake (a hug would have truly saved the confession mess, let's be honest, but can't be picky), the way he looked at her as she read, THAT is the writers do SO perfectly right for Tim and Lucy (and I know the majority of that credit goes to Eric and Melissa, because the moments that are the most impactful are the looks that just can't be entirely scripted.)

Do I still ship them with every fiber of my being? Yes, and nothing the writers do or don’t do will change that. Will I still (eventually again) write a million words about them falling in love how I think they should? Yes. Do I need the show to stick to moments like in the parking garage -- real, honest moments between them? YES. That is what the show gets right about their relationship. If they can just stick to those moments -- and somehow continue them and make them believable even if they’re no longer riding together -- I’ll be happy.

Am I worried about their interactions now that they’re no longer riding together? Yes. Their chemistry is honestly the best thing on this show. Giving less screen time to Lopez and West together has been rough -- not only on the relationships aspect that so much drives the show but on the timing/pacing as well -- and I worry that their best characters/best ship not sharing as much screen time will not help either of these issues.

Maybe they’ll surprise me. I hope -- I think -- they will.

(Random, but things I still need from this season: A Rachel mention? Don't get me wrong, if they want to forget her, I'm cool... but it feels like (even a fake love) confession should have been the right time to be like "I know this is awkward, you're dating my friend..." Come on, show. I don't care about her, but you tried HARD to sell us on her last season, so at least give her a two second mention to update us on what is actually going on. The Lopez-Evers wedding. (Do I think it'll be THE Chenford event most people are hoping for? No. But I'm ready to be proven wrong.) A continuation on Harper's love life. UPDATE ME on my girl.)

[army-of-mai-lovers]

Jet and Yue’s Deaths: Were They Necessary?

Two of the most common ideas I see for aus in this fandom are the Jet lives au, and the Yue lives au. I’ve written both of these myself, and I’ve seen many others write them. And while yes, fanfiction can be a great way to explore ideas that didn’t necessarily have to be explored in canon (I’m mad at bryke for a lot of things, but not including a Toph and Bumi I friendship is not one of them, even though I wrote a fic about it), it seems to me that people are mad that Yue and Jet are dead, to varying degrees. There’s a lot to talk about regarding their deaths from a sociopolitical perspective (the fact that two of the darker-skinned characters in the show are the ones that died, and all the light-skinned characters lived, is ah... an interesting choice), but I don’t want to look at it that way, at least for right now. I want to look at it as a writer, and discuss whether these deaths were a) necessary for the plot and themes of ATLA in any way whatsoever and b) whether it was necessary for them to unfold in the way that they did, or if they would have been more impactful had they occurred in a different way. 

(meta under the cut, this got really, really, really long)

Death in Children’s Media

When I first started thinking about this meta, I had this idea to compare Jet and Yue’s deaths to deaths in an animated children’s show that I found satisfying. And in theory, that was a great idea. Problem is: there aren’t very many permanent deaths in children’s animation, and the ones that do exist aren’t especially well-written. This may be an odd thing to say in what is ostensibly a piece of atla crit, but Yue’s death is probably the best written death in a piece of children’s animation that I can think of. That’s not a compliment. Rather, it’s a condemnation of the way other pieces of children’s animation featuring permanent character death have handled their storylines. 

I’ve talked about this before, but my favorite show growing up was Young Justice, and my favorite character on that show was far and away Mr. Wally West. So when he died at the end of season 2, it broke me emotionally. Shortly thereafter, Cartoon Network canceled the show, and I started getting on fan forums to mourn. Everybody on these fan forums was convinced that had Cartoon Network not canceled the show, Wally would have been brought back. And that is a narrative that I internalized for years. Eventually, the show was brought back via DC’s new streaming service, and I tuned in, waiting for Wally to also be brought back, only to discover that that wasn’t in the cards. Wally was dead. Permanently. 

So now that I know that, I can talk about why killing him off was fucking stupid. Wally’s death occurs at the end of season 2, after the main s2 conflict, the Reach, has been defeated, save for these pods that they set up all over the world to destroy Earth. Our heroes split up in teams of two to destroy the pods, and they destroy all of them, except for a secret one in Antartica. It can only be neutralized by speedsters, so Wally, Bart, and Barry team up to destroy it. It’s established in canon that Wally is slower than Bart and Barry, and it’s been played for laughs earlier in the season, but for reasons unexplained, the pod is better able to target Wally because he’s slower than Bart and Barry, and it kills him. After the emotional arc of the season has wrapped up, a literal main character dies. There’s some indication at the end of that season that his death is going to cause Artemis to spiral and become a villain, but when season 3 picks up, she’s doing the right thing, with seemingly no qualms about her position in life as a hero. In the comics, something like this happens to Wally, but then he goes into the Speed Force and becomes faster and stronger even than Barry, in which case, yes, this would have advanced the plot, but that’s probably not in the cards either. 

In summary, Wally’s death doesn’t work as a story beat, not because it made me mad, but because it doesn’t advance the plot, nor does it develop character. Only including things that advance plot or develop character is one of the golden rules of writing. Like most golden rules of writing, however, it’s not absolute. There is a lot of fun to be had in jokey little one off adventures (in atla, Sokka’s haiku competition) or in fun worldbuilding threads that add depth to your setting but don’t really come up (in atla, the existence of Whaletail Island, which is described in really juicy ways, even though the characters never go there.) But in general, when it comes to things like character death, events should happen to develop the plot or advance character. Avatar, for all of its flaws, is really well structured, and a lot of its story beats advance plot and develop character at the same time. However, the show also bears the burden of being a show directed at children, and thus needing to be appropriate for children. And as we know, Nickelodeon and bryke butted heads over this: the death scene that we see for Jet is a compromise, one that implicitly confirms his death without explicitly showing it. So bryke tasked themselves with creating a show about imperialism and war that would do those themes justice while also being appropriate for American children and palatable to their parents. 

The Themes of Avatar vs. Its Audience

So, Avatar is a show about a lone survivor of genocide stopping an imperialist patriarchal society from decimating the rest of the world. It’s also a show about found family and staying true to yourself and doing your best to improve the world. These don’t necessarily conflict with each other, and it is possible for children to understand and enjoy shows about complex themes. And in a lot of cases, bryke doesn’t hold back in showing what the costs of war against an imperialist nation are: losing loved ones, losing yourself, prison, etc. But when it comes to death, the show is incredibly hesitant. None of the main characters that we’ve spent a lot of time getting to know die (not even Iroh, even though he was old and it would have made sense and his VA died before the show was over--but that’s a topic for another day.) This makes sense. I can totally imagine a seven year-old watching Avatar as it was coming out and feeling really sad or scared if a major character died. I was six years older than that when Wally died, and it’s still sad and terrifying to me to this day. However, in a show about war, it would be unrealistic to have no one die. Bryke’s stated reason for killing off Jet is to show the costs of war. I’ve seen a lot of posts about Jet’s death that reiterate some version of this same point--that the great tragedy of his character is that he spent his life fighting the Fire Nation, only to die at the hands of his own country. Similarly, I’ve seen people argue in favor of Yue’s death by saying that it was a great tragedy, but it showed the sacrifices that must be made in a war effort. 

Yue

When we first meet Yue, she is a somewhat reserved, kind individual held back by the rigid social structures of the NWT*. She and Sokka have an immediate attraction to one another, but Yue reveals that she is engaged to Hahn. The Fire Nation invasion happens, Zhao kills Tui, and Yue gives up her life to save her people and the world, and to restore balance. Since we didn’t have a lot of time to get to know Yue, this is framed less as Yue’s sacrifice and more as Sokka’s loss. Sokka is the one who cares for Yue, Sokka is the only one of the gaang who really interacts a lot with Yue on screen, and Sokka is the one we’ve spent a whole season getting to know. While I wouldn’t go so far as to call Yue a prop character (i.e. a character who could be replaced by an object with little change to the narrative), she is certainly underdeveloped. She exists to be unambiguously likable and good, so we can root for her and Sokka, and feel Sokka’s pain when she dies. In my opinion, this is probably also why a lot of fic that features Yue depicts her as a Mary Sue--because as she is depicted in the show, she kind of is. We don’t get to see her hidden depths because she is written to die. 

In light of what we’ve established earlier in this meta, this makes sense. Killing off a fully-realized character whom the audience has really gotten to know and care about on their own terms, rather than through the eyes of another character, could be really sad and scary for the kids watching, but not killing anyone off would be an unrealistic depiction of war and imperialism. On the face of it, killing off an underdeveloped, unambiguously likable and good character, whom one of our MCs has a deep but short connection with, is the perfect compromise. 

But let’s go back to the golden rule for a second. Does Yue’s death a) advance the plot, and/or b) develop character? The answer to the first is yes: Yue’s death prompts Aang to use the Avatar State to fight off the Fire navy, which has implications for his ability to control the Avatar State that form one of the major arcs of book 2. The answer to the second? A little more ambiguous. You would think that Yue’s death would have some lasting impact on Sokka that is explored as part of his character arc in book 2, that he may be more afraid to trust, more scared of losing the people he loves, but outside of a few episodes (really, just one I can think of, “The Swamp”) it doesn’t seem to affect him that much. He even asks about Suki in a way that is clearly romantically motivated in “Avatar Day.” I don’t know about you, but if someone I loved sacrificed herself to become the moon, I don’t think I would be seeking out another romantic entanglement a few weeks after her death. Of course, everybody processes grief differently, and one could argue that Sokka has already lost important people in his life, and thus would be accustomed to moving on from that loss and not letting himself dwell on it. But to that, I’d say that moving on by throwing himself into protecting others has already shown itself to be an unhealthy coping mechanism. Remember, Sokka’s misogyny at the beginning of b1 is in part motivated by the fact that his mother died at the hands of the Fire Nation and his father left shortly thereafter to fight the Fire Nation, and he responds to those things by throwing himself into the role of being the “man” of the village and protecting the people he loves who are still with him. Like with Yue, he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on his mother’s death. This could have been the beginning of a really interesting b2 arc for Sokka, in which he throws himself into being the Avatar’s companion to get away from the grief of losing Yue, but this time, through the events of the show, he’s forced to acknowledge that this is an unhealthy coping mechanism. And maybe this is what bryke was going for with “The Swamp”, but this confines his whole process of grief to one episode, where it could have been a season-long arc that really emphasized the effect Yue’s had on his life. 

In the case of Yue, I do lean toward saying that her death was necessary for the story that they wanted to tell (although, I will never turn down a good old-fashioned Yue lives au that really gets into her dynamism as a character, those are awesome.) However, the way they wrote Sokka following Yue’s death reduced her significance. The fact that Yue seemed to have so little impact on Sokka is precisely what makes her death feel unnecessary, even if it isn’t. 

Jet

Okay. Here we go. 

If you know my blog, you know I love Jet. You know I love Jet lives aus. Perhaps you know that I’m in the process of writing a multichapter Jet fic in which he lives after Lake Laogai. So it’s reasonable to assume that, in a discussion of whether or not Jet’s death was necessary, I’m gonna be mega-biased. And yeah, that’s probably true. But up until recently, I wasn’t really all that mad about Jet dying, at least conceptually. As I said earlier, bryke says that in the case of Jet’s death, they wanted to kill a character off that people knew and would care about, so that they could further show the tragedies of war and imperialism. Okay. That is not, in and of itself, a bad idea. 

My issue lies with the execution of said idea. First of all, the framing of Jet’s original episode is so bad. Jet is part of a long line of cartoon villains who resist imperialism and other forms of oppression through violence and are punished for it. This is actually a really common sort of villain for atla/lok, as we see this play out again with Hama, Amon, and the Red Lotus. To paraphrase hbomberguy’s description of this type of villain, basically liberal white creators are saying, “yeah, oppression is bad, but have you tried writing to your Congressman about it?” With Jet, since we have so little information about the village he’s trying to flood, there are a number of different angles that would explain his actions and give them more nuance. My preferred hc is that the citizens of Gaipan are a mix of Earth civilians, Fire citizens, and FN soldiers, and that the Earth citizens refused to feed or house Jet and the other Freedom Fighters because they were orphans and, as we see in the Kyoshi Novels, Earth families stick to their own. Thus, when Jet decides to flood Gaipan, he’s focused on ridding the valley of Fire Nation, but he doesn’t really care about what happens to the Earth citizens of Gaipan because they actively wronged him when he was a kid. That’s just one interpretation, and there have been others: Gaipan was fully Fire Nation, Gaipan was both Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation but Jet decided that the benefits of flooding the valley and getting rid of the Fire Nation outweighed the costs of losing the EK families, etc, etc. There are ways to rewrite that scenario so that Jet is not framed as an unambiguously bloodthirsty monster. In the context of Jet’s death, this initial framing reduces the possible impact that his death could have. Where Yue was unambiguously good, Jet is at the very least morally gray when we see him again in the ferry. And where we are connected to Yue through Sokka, the gaang’s active hatred of Jet hinders our ability to connect with him. This isn’t impossible to overcome--the gaang hates Zuko, and yet to an extent the audience roots for him--but Jet’s lack of screentime and nuanced framing (both of which Zuko gets in all three seasons) makes overcoming his initially flawed framing really difficult. 

So how much can it really be said, that by the time we get to Jet’s death, he’s a character that we know and care about? So much about him is still unknown (what happened to the Freedom Fighters? what prompted Jet’s offscreen redemption? who knows, fam, who knows.) Moreover, most of what we see of him in Ba Sing Se is him actively opposing Zuko and Iroh. These are both characters that at the very least the show wants us to care about. At this point, we know almost everything there is to know about them, we’ve been following them and to an extent rooting for them for two seasons, and who have had nuanced and often sympathetic framing a number of times. So much of the argument I’ve seen regarding Jet centers around the fact that he was right to expose Zuko and Iroh as Firebenders, but the reason we have to have that argument in the first place is because it’s not framed in Jet’s favor. In terms of who the audience cares about more, who the audience has more of an emotional attachment towards, Zuko and Iroh win every time. Whether Jet’s actually in the right or not is irrelevant, because emotionally speaking, we’re primed to root for Zuko and Iroh. In terms of who the framing is biased towards, Jet may as well be Zhao. So when he’s taken by the Dai Li and brainwashed, the audience isn’t necessarily going to see this as a bad thing, because it means Zuko and Iroh are safe.

The only real bit of sympathetic framing Jet gets are those initial moments on the ferry, and the moments after he and the gaang meet again. So about five, ten minutes of the show, total. And then, he sacrifices himself for the gaang. And just like Yue, his death has little to no impact on the characters in the episodes following. Katara is shown crying for four frames immediately following his death, and they bring him up once in “The Southern Raiders” to call him a monster, and once in “The Ember Island Players”, a joke episode in which his death is a joke. 

So, let’s ask again. Does this a) advance the plot, and/or b) develop character? The answer to both is no. It shows that the Dai Li is super evil and cruel, which we already knew and which basically becomes irrelevant in book 3, and that is really the only plot-significant thing I can think of. As far as character, well, it could have been a really interesting moment in Katara’s development in forgiving someone who hurt her in the past, which could have foreshadowed her forgiving Zuko in b3, but considering she calls Jet a monster in TSR, that doesn’t track. There could have been something with Sokka realizing that his snap judgment of Jet in b1 was wrong, but considering that he brings up Jet to criticize Katara in TSR, that also does not track. And honestly, neither of these possible character arcs require Jet to die. What requires Jet to die is the ~themes~. 

Let’s look at this theme again, shall we? The cost of war. We already covered it with Yue, but it’s clearly something that bryke wants to return to and shed new light on. The obvious angle they’re going for is that sometimes, you don’t know who your real enemy is. Jet thought that his enemy was the Fire Nation, but in the end, he was taken down by his own countryman. Wow. So deep. Except, while it’s clear that Jet was always fighting against the Fire Nation, I never got the sense that Jet was fighting for the Earth Kingdom. After all, isn’t the whole bad thing about him in the beginning is that he wants to kill civilians, some of whom we assume to be Earth Kingdom? Why would it matter then that he got killed by an EK leader, when he didn’t seem to ever be too hot on those dudes? But okay, maybe the angle is not that he was killed by someone from the Earth Kingdom, but that he wasn’t killed by someone from the Fire Nation. Okay, but we’ve already seen him be diametrically opposed to the only living Air Nomad and people from the Water Tribes. Jet fighting with and losing to people who aren’t Fire Nation is not a new and exciting development for him. Jet has been enemies with non-FN characters for most of the show’s run at this point. There is no thematic level on which the execution of this holds any water. 

The reason I got to thinking about this, really analyzing what Jet’s death means (and doesn’t mean) for the show, was this conversation I was having with @the-hot-zone in discord dms. We were talking about book 2 and ways it could have been better, and Zone said that they thought that Jet would have been a stronger character to parallel with Zuko’s redemption than Iroh and that seeing more of the narrative from Jet’s perspective could have strengthened the show’s themes. And when it came to the question of Jet’s death, they said, “And if we are going with Jet dying, then I want it to hurt. I want it to hurt just as much as if a main character like Sokka had died. I want the viewer to see Jet's struggles, his triumphs, the facets of Jet that make him compelling and important to the show.” And all of that just hit me. Because we don’t get that, do we? Jet’s death barely leaves a mark. Jet himself barely leaves a mark. His death isn’t plot-significant, doesn’t inspire character growth in any of our MCs, and doesn’t even accomplish the thematic relevance that it claims to. So what was the point? 

Conclusion

Much as I dislike it, Yue’s death actually added something to atla. It could have added much, much more, in the hands of writers who gave more of a shit about their Brown female characters and were less intent on seeing them suffer and knocking them down a peg, but, in my opinion, it did work for what it was trying to do. Jet? Jet? Nah, fam. Jet never got the chance to really develop into a likable character because he was always put at odds with characters we already liked, and the framing skewed their way, not his. The dude never really had a chance.        

*multiple people have spoken about how the NWT as depicted in atla is not reminiscent of real life Inuit and Yupik people and culture. I am not the person to go into detail about this, but I encourage you to check out Native-run blogs for more info!

[elvish-sky]

Hope {Aragorn x Reader}

A.N: So no prompts done today cause I was working on this, but I’m proud of it and will get right on prompts tomorrow! This is the completely reader-insert version! I honestly had so much fun writing it and am honored that this person wanted me to do so. I hope y’all like it!

Requested by @ask-the-elf-stuff on Tumblr

Pairing: Aragorn x Reader

Word Count: 1,799

Warnings: Kissing, fluff, the smallest bit of angst.

****

Hope

“You’re really leaving?” You gazed into Aragorn’s eyes, hoping that it wasn’t true.

    “I have to, Y/N. The fate of Middle-Earth depends on it.”

Your head dipped in understanding, but also sadness. 

“Do not fear. I will return.” He cupped your chin with his hand, tilting your head and kissing you. It was a light kiss, nothing like the others you had shared before. This kiss was the hope that you’d see each other again.

Breaking away, you forced a smile as you hugged him, trying not to cry. Stepping back, you waved as he followed the rest of the newly formed Fellowship through the gates of Imladris. Your father stood next to you, and as Aragorn passed through the gates Elrond drew you into his side. 

“He’ll be back, hína (child),” Elrond said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you rested your head on your father’s shoulder as you watched the man depart.

Weeks later, you were pacing your room, determined to do something. Arwen stopped short in the doorway as she saw you pack open on your bed as you shoved things inside.

     “Y/N? What are you doing?”

“I do not know why, but I have felt a pull to follow. An ache, almost painful in its strength, has settled inside me and so I knew I must follow. We have not heard from the Fellowship in weeks, Aragorn could be hurt, or someone else could be, or he could be,” your voice broke, “dead.

The elf nodded in understanding. “The ache is telling you to be with the one you love.”

She then clasped your hand. “Y/N. Look at me.”

You looked at her, unshed tears of worry clear in your eyes.

“If he was dead, you’d feel it. And I know as your sister I should be telling you not to go, but I cannot help but notice the pain you’ve been in these last weeks. So go, find him.” She spread a map out onto a small table nearby, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Do you just carry that everywhere?”

She shot you a look, and you quickly clammed up, peering over her shoulder as she pointed things out. 

“After crossing the mountains visit our grandmother in Lothlorien, the Fellowship had planned to pass through there, and she will know where they are.” 

You took it all in, remembering the route to Lothlorien from visits to your grandparents you had made before your mother went west. 

“Thank you, Arwen.” You smiled up at your sister.

She clasped your wrist before pulling away, placing her hands on your shoulders as she looked into your eyes. “Stay safe, Y/N.”

You nodded, shoving the last things into your pack before slinging it over your shoulders with your bow and quiver, daggers sheathed on your thighs, hugging your sister one last time before leaving your room.

   You strode down the hallway, dressed in leather hunting clothes as you made your way to the gates of Imladris. You had stopped by the kitchens to gather food supplies, making sure they thought you were only going for a hunting excursion. 

Entering the courtyard, you saw your father standing in the center, clearly waiting for you. Silently cursing Arwen, as you had hoped to slip away unnoticed, you made your way over to him.

“I should not let you do this.”

You frowned at his words, drawing breath to protest, but before you could Elrond spoke again.

“But you are free to go. I feel the ache and have felt it every day since your mother departed. I know that nothing but being with the one you love can ease that pain, and it would hurt me to know you are experiencing it. Go to Estel. I give you my blessing.” 

You hugged your father before turning and mounting your horse, brought from the stables. Turning to wave to your father one last time, you leaned down to whisper, “Let’s go, Daeroc. Let’s go find Aragorn.” The horse broke into a trot, and you left Imladris behind.

Weeks later, you led Daeroc into Lothlorien, waiting for the sentries to appear. One dropped down from a tree, and you smiled at him, recognizing the face.

“Haldir,” you greeted him with a smile.

“Y/N. It is good to see you again. I assume you are here to see the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn?”

You nodded, “Yes. I have not seen my grandparents in a long time. But before we go to them could you find someone to take care of Daeroc?”

Another elf came into view, nodding to you as she took the reins from your hands. 

“Thank you,” you smiled at her.

Later, you walked into the courtyard, bowing to your grandparents standing on the stairs above. 

“Y/N, my daughter’s daughter. What brings you here?” Galadriel smiled at you, descending the stairs with her husband to greet you, each clasping your wrist. 

“To see you, of course, and seek news of the Fellowship that I assume has passed through here.” 

Your grandmother smiled. “It seems you are in luck, for they are here as we speak.”

Your eyes widened. “But they should have been long gone by now. I wonder what has caused the delay?”

Celeborn’s face softened. “Then you do not know.”

“Know what?” You were beginning to grow quite worried. “What has happened?”

“They could not make it through the pass of Caradhras, so they turned and went through Moria, costing them the life of Mithrandir.”

You gasped, heart aching at the grief that must have caused them and the grief you now felt. 

“May I see them?” All you wanted now was to see your friends and the man you loved.

“Of course.” Galadriel beckoned you to follow her, and you did, softly conversing with your grandmother and updating her on the lives of her family in Imladris, as well as others she knew.

Stepping into the clearing, you turned to thank Galadriel, watching her fade from view behind you for a moment before continuing. 

There he was. Tall and handsome still, even grimy with dirt and dust from his travels. You debated casually walking up and greeting him more sedately, but watching him you just couldn’t hold back. All your elvish instincts left you, and you sprinted towards him, leaping into his shocked arms as kissing him for all you were worth. He kissed you back for a moment, and then pulled away, the surprise on his face clear.

“Y/N! What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you.”

His eyes widened. “You did?”

You smiled at him. “Of course I did, meleth.”

He smiled back at you, and drew you in for another kiss, hands holding you up as your legs wrapped around his waist. Deepening the kiss, he moved so your back was pressed against a tree and his hands were free to slide up your back, tangling in your hair as you lost yourselves in each other.

Sometime later, you sat with the rest of the Fellowship after the nighttime meal, talking. It was good to see them again, you had grown fond of all of them, even the dwarf, during their time in Imladris. But of course, the only person you really had eyes for that night was Aragorn, who sat next to you with an arm around your shoulders. 

Legolas had seemed puzzled with how comfortable you were with affection, it was rather un elf-like. You had explained to him that because of your father’s past, he was slightly more affectionate than a normal elf, and showed it. You hadn’t missed the wistful look on Legolas’ face as you spoke and recalled what you knew of his family, feeling sorry for him. 

Later that night, you sat by the dying embers of the fire alongside Legolas. Aragorn had gone with the hobbits to wash up, and Boromir and Gimli were sleeping, so it was just you and the elf.

“Legolas?” The older elf looked at you. 

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded, and you continued, “I was just wondering, do you know of something like an ache? It began right after the Fellowship departed Imladris, and only subsided when I arrived here. What does it mean?”

He smiled. “Y/N. That was the bond between your soul and Aragorn’s, pulled taught with your fear of losing him. Now that you are reunited, it has gone because you are together. It is every elf’s greatest dream and worst fear to have that feeling.”

You smiled. “Have you?”

The pain in his eyes told you that maybe that was not something to be asked of others.

“I am not sure if it is in my destiny to ever feel that.” He gazed into the distance.

The two of you sat in easy silence for a long time, after that. 

“Y/N.” You turned to see Aragorn beckoning to you, and with a nod to Legolas, you rose.

“You do not have to come with us. It will be a journey of great peril, and I do not want to put you in that much danger.”

You gazed at him earnestly, “Aragorn. I shall be there when the crown is finally placed on your head. I shall be with you until the end.”

He smiled at you again and clasped your hand as you walked through the towering trees.

You had left Lothlorien the day after with the Fellowship, having officially joined up. Lots had happened after that, including almost dying with most of Middle-Earth, but months later, all was finally well. Frodo and Sam had destroyed the ring in Mordor, the forces of Mordor had collapsed along with the Black Gate, and today was the coronation of King Elessar, also known as Aragorn. 

You watched, standing next to Gimli on the dais, as Gandalf lowered the crown onto Aragorn’s head.

“Now come the days of the King!” Gandalf declared before Aragorn turned to face his kingdom. Everyone cheered as he stood there, silencing quickly as he spoke. His words were wise and sincere, and you couldn’t help but fall in love all over again. As petals began to fall, he started singing, the words quickly fading as he turned to you. 

You walked down to meet him at the bottom of the steps, gown trailing behind you. Once you reached him, he grabbed your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist as he dipped you into a spectacular kiss. Unlike the one you had shared in Imladris, this was not a kiss of sadness. This was a kiss of hope, peace, and promise. As the cheers rose around you again you knew that everything you had hoped for had come true.

Everything tag: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @wellofeternalthirst @kumqu4t @katbby16

[my-bated-breath]

Research Shows that Zutara Would Have Been the Ideal Friends to Lovers Dynamic

(featured below: a very self-indulgent Zutara post that uses Facts and Evidence to be self-indulgent)

When I joined the ATLA fandom, a common trend I've seen used to discredit Zutara was the belief that upon transitioning from a platonic relationship to a romantic one, Zuko and Katara would immediately become The Worst (TM) for each other. It's quite the stretch, and the Zutara fandom nearly unanimously recognizes that. Still, since the attacks have yet to cease even 15 years after the show’s first release, I'd like to add my two-cents on the subject, along with a reference to actual research that is much harder to dismiss.

The reason why Zutara is framed as a “toxic and unhealthy” relationship is that their romance would be a classic example of the enemies-to-lovers trope, a trope which modern media has not been particularly kind to. However, when executed correctly, enemies-to-lovers can produce a healthy and loving relationship, frequently relying on friendship as an intermediate between the “enemy” and “lover” stages in the most well-executed versions of this trope. Meanwhile, the trope of friends-to-lovers is just as popular as enemies-to-lovers, though the specific dynamic required between two individuals to achieve this transition is not well-known. Recognizing this, Laura K. Guerrero and Paul A. Mongeau, both of whom are involved in relationship-related research as professors at Arizona State University, wrote a research paper on how friendships may transition into romantic relationships.

While “On Becoming ‘More Than Friends: The Transition From Friendship to Romantic Relationship” covers a variety of aspects regarding how friends may approach a budding romantic relationship, this meta will focus on the section titled “The Trajectory from Platonic Friendship to Romantic Relationship,” which describes stages of intimacy that are in common between platonic and romantic relationships.

(I am only using this one source for my meta because as much as I love research and argumentative writing, I can only give myself so much more school work before I break. If you wish to see more sources that corroborate the argument from above, refer to the end of this meta at the “Works Cited.”)

According to Guerrero and Mongeau, “...scholars have argued that intimacy is located in different types of interactions, ranging from sexual activity and physical contact to warm, cozy interactions that can occur between friends, family members, and lovers…” Guerrero and Mongeau then reference a relationship model where the initial stages (i.e. perceiving similarities, achieving rapport, and inducing self-disclosure) reflect platonic/romantic intimacy through communication while the latter stages (i.e. role-taking, achieving interpersonal role fit, and achieving dyadic crystallization) often see both individuals as achieving a higher level of intimacy that involves more self-awareness.

Definitions, because some terminology in this quote is field-specific:

_____

Perception of similarity: (similar in background, values, etc.) which contributes to pair rapport

Pair rapport: produces positive emotional and behavioral responses to the partner, promotes effective communication and instills feelings of self-validation

Self-disclosure: a process of communication by which one person reveals information about themselves to another. The information can be descriptive or evaluative and can include thoughts, feelings, aspirations, goals, failures, successes, fears, and dreams, as well as one's likes, dislikes, and favorites.

Role-taking: ability to understand the partner's perspective and empathize with his/her role in the interaction and the relationship

Role-fit: partners assess the extent of their similarities in personality, needs, and roles

Dyadic crystallization: partners become increasingly involved with each other and committed to the relationship and they form an identity as a committed couple

_____

(Source: Quizlet -- not the most reliable source, I know, but once again field-specific terms tend to be ubiquitous in their definitions, and I doubt that this Quizlet can be that inaccurate)

(Additional note: only the first three definitions will be relevant to this meta, but the other definitions are left in for all of you who want to speculate what the next part of this meta, which may or may not be published the following week, will be about.)

Let’s apply what we just learned back to the real Zuko-Katara relationship we see throughout the show. What attributes of healthy and natural friends-to-lovers dynamics may they check off?

Perceiving similarities:

Zuko and Katara share an astounding number of parallels in background and character throughout the show. Both their mothers had sacrificed their lives to save them, and then there are many deliberate parallels drawn between Zuko and Katara’s confrontations in the Day of Black Sun and The Southern Raiders, respectively. Of course, there are more, but since I do not have much to add to this subject, I’ll say that perceiving these similarities helps contribute to…

Pair rapport:

We see three standout examples of this from the show in which Zuko and Katara “make positive emotional and behavioral responses” towards each other: In the Crossroads of Destiny, the Southern Raiders, and Sozin's Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters.

(1) Crossroads of Destiny. Zuko and Katara bond over the loss of their mothers in the Crystal Catacombs, allowing themselves to truly see the other for the first time as well as for them to speak civilly and intimately (is this self-disclosure I see?) with each other. Of course, their conversation (on-screen or off-screen) is meaningful enough for Katara to offer to use the Spirit Oasis water to heal Zuko’s scar.

(2) The Southern Raiders. The journey Zuko and Katara take for her to achieve closure (which is something Zuko himself knew was necessary to heal and grow) is the catalyst for Katara forgiving Zuko. Though there is no true “rapport” in the scene where Katara forgives him, all other banter/conversations (in the Ember Island Players and the ATLA finale) between Katara and Zuko are reliant on the moment she forgives him.

(3) Sozin's Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters. In the finale, Zuko experiences a moment of uncertainty before just before he faces his uncle -- his uncle who had always been there for him since the days of his banishment, his uncle had loved him unconditionally even when Zuko did not know that such love was possible, his uncle who loved him like his own son, his uncle who he betrayed in the Crystal Catacombs, his uncle who turned away when he was encased in crystal, too disappointed to look him in the eye. He tells this to Katara -- and what does Katara say to Zuko in response?

“Then he'll forgive you. He will.”

The dialogue speaks for itself. The positive emotional response, the open communication, and the (rightful) encouragement Katara provides, all without invalidating Zuko’s self-doubt, demonstrates the epitome of pair rapport. Further elaboration would simply be me gushing over their dynamic.

Self-disclosure:

Self-disclosure involves revealing intimate feelings. We’re revisiting the same three episodes that we covered up above since they all include self-disclosure.

(1) The Crossroads of Destiny. When he reaches out in the Crystal Catacombs, Zuko reveals something to Katara that he has never told anyone before, perhaps something he didn’t even want to admit to himself -- in response to “the Fire Nation took my mother away from me” he says “that's something we have in common.” And to say that out loud, to say it to himself and Katara when for three whole years he’s been trying to convince himself that the Fire Nation is good and that his father loves him -- there are no words to describe it. It’s both awe-inspiring and heartbreaking to see that Zuko and Katara’s shared pain is what allowed them to see each other as more than the “face of the enemy,” and it’s something so poignant that it forms an immediately profound connection between the two.

(2) The Southern Raiders. On their way to the Fire Nation communications tower on Whale Tail Island, Katara tells the story of her mother’s death, a story that has haunted her memories for years, looming over her as a ghost, a wound that festers into fear to grief to anger. This was the moment that divided Katara’s life into the Before and the After, the one that forced her to abandon childhood and to become a mother to her own brother (as implied by Sokka in his conversation with Toph in the Runaway). And yet this is the first time we see her tell someone her story in the show, full and vivid as if it happened yesterday. Because even though she mentioned her mother before to Aang, Haru, and Jet in order to sympathize with them -- it’s just that. Sympathizing. This time she tells Zuko about her mother’s death for her own sake rather than for another’s. And it’s an incredibly intimate moment, one that is made even more fragile, wrenching, and beautiful by Zuko’s response -- “Your mother was a brave woman.”

(3) Sozin's Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters. Throughout the second half of season 3, Zuko shares his love and insecurities regarding Iroh to every member of the GAang.

In the Firebending Masters, he mentions to Aang offhandedly -- and perhaps too offhandedly, as if he didn’t want to believe it himself -- that Iroh, Dragon of the West, received his honorary title for killing the last dragon.

An episode later in part one of the Boiling Rock, Zuko talks about his uncle with near constancy. He brews tea for the GAang and (endearingly) tries retelling “Uncle’s favorite tea joke.” He tells Sokka, “Hey, hold on. Not everyone in my family is like that… I  meant my uncle. He was more of a father to me. And I really let him down.” He (fails at, adorably) giving advice to Sokka when the rescue mission to the Boiling Rock has begun to look helpless, asking himself “what would Uncle say?” before completely floundering away.

Then, in the Ember Island Players, he shares a sweet moment with Toph, bitterly spitting out that

“...for me, [the play] takes all the mistakes I've made in my life, and shoves them back in my face. My uncle, he's always been on my side, even when things were bad. He was there for me, he taught me so much, and how do I repay him? With a knife in his back. It's my greatest regret, and I may never get to redeem myself.”

Toph, in turn, reveals the thoughtful side to her character, the side that is almost always hidden, telling Zuko that “you have redeemed yourself to your uncle. You don't realize it, but you already have.”

And every one of these moments matter, because we see Zuko’s inner conflict (though this inner conflict does not exist to the extent at which it did at the first half of season 3) and its evolution. First, with Aang, he remains skeptical and disillusioned. Second, with Sokka, his longing for Iroh’s love and presence manifests itself in him imitating his uncle as well as he can. Third, with Toph, he finally admits everything he had been afraid of ever since he saw Iroh’s empty prison cell during the eclipse -- that Iroh is disappointed in him. That Iroh hates him. That Iroh will never accept him again.

And for a moment, with Toph’s encouraging response and Zuko’s resulting little smile, it appears as though Zuko’s internal conflict arc is concluded. But we are wrong -- because in the finale of the show, we are given the true climax and resolution to Zuko’s insecurities, fears, and self-loathing. And who is it that he shares this moment with?

It speaks volumes about Zuko and Katara’s relationship that Katara is the one to comfort Zuko in this scene, in that last moment of hesitation right before he steps inside his uncle’s tent, preparing himself to see his uncle as a completely changed person. As a person who now knows humility and unconditional love. And remember -- selecting Katara to be in this scene is a deliberate narrative choice because ATLA was written by a team of producers and writers, and perhaps even if it wasn’t, it becomes a powerful moment in which Zuko’s arc with Iroh reaches its peak.

Simply having Katara there in this scene already has such a great narrative impact, but then the show gives us some of the most intimate dialogue that Zuko, a naturally closed-off person, delivers (although his emotional outbursts may suggest otherwise, Zuko tends to hide most of his internally conflicting feelings to himself. Hence, he is always able to dramatically monologue about his honor, his country, and his throne -- because he’s trying to convince himself to play a part. But that’s another meta for another day).

Let’s begin by comparing Toph and Zuko’s dialogue with Katara and Zuko’s dialogue because both see the other party validating Zuko’s feelings.

(Warning: the following section plunges deep into the realm of speculation and overanalyzing dialogue. Regarding literature or any media, there are countless ways to interpret the source material, and this is simply one way it could be done.)

_____

Ember Island Players Dialogue:

Toph: Geez, everyone's getting so upset about their characters. Even you seem more down than usual, and that's saying something!

Zuko: You don't get it, it's different for you. You get a muscly version of yourself, taking down ten bad guys at once, and making sassy remarks.

Toph: Yeah, that's pretty great!

Zuko: But for me, it takes all the mistakes I've made in my life, and shoves them back in my face. My uncle, he's always been on my side, even when things were bad. He was there for me, he taught me so much, and how do I repay him? With a knife in his back. It's my greatest regret, and I may never get to redeem myself.

_____

Although Toph and Zuko’s dynamic is one of the most innocent and understanding throughout the show, the conversation begins with Toph joking with a negative connotation -- that “even [Zuko seemed] more down than usual, and that’s saying something!” Thus, the conversation opener is not one that allows for Zuko to easily be emotionally vulnerable, and so he responds bitterly and angrily -- “You don’t get it, it’s different for you” and “...and how do I repay him? With a knife in his back.” By stating that their portrayals in the shows were different, Zuko mentally places a wall between himself and Toph, saying that “[Toph doesn’t] get it.” Then, the rhetorical question Zuko asks himself and the shortness with which he answers the question showcases a forceful and biting tone, indicating that he is covering up his inner turmoil with vehemence. This tendency is something we’ve seen Zuko default to before, whenever he had shouted the oft-mocked “I must restore my honor!” lines in response to a few introspective questions Iroh had asked (though once again, that’s another meta for another day). Now, let’s examine the remainder of their conversation.

_____

Ember Island Players Dialogue Continued:

Toph: You have redeemed yourself to your uncle. You don't realize it, but you already have.

Zuko: How do you know?

Toph: Because I once had a long conversation with the guy, and all he would talk about was you.

Zuko: Really?

Toph: Yeah, and it was kind of annoying.

Zuko: Oh, sorry.

_____

Here we see Toph and Zuko’s conversation take a more serious turn as Toph becomes more sincere. Zuko, however, is still full of self-doubt as he is constantly questioning Toph with “how do you know?” and “really” and “oh, sorry.”

(featured up above: Zuko looking dejected and doubtful.)

Still, the conversation ends on a sweet and inspiring note:

_____

Ember Island Players Dialogue Continued:

Toph: But it was also very sweet. All your uncle wanted was for you to find your own path, and see the light. Now you're here with us. He'd be proud.

_____

Hence, though Zuko and Toph’s conversation displays a heartening and hopeful dynamic, Zuko is ultimately still guarded for the majority of their conversation. Now, let’s look at how Katara approaches Zuko in the Sozin’s Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters.

_____

Sozin’s Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters Dialogue:

Katara: Are you okay?

Zuko: No, I'm not okay. My uncle hates me, I know it. He loved and supported me in every way he could, and I still turned against him. How can I even face him?

Katara: Zuko, you're sorry for what you did, right?

Zuko: More sorry than I've been about anything in my entire life.

_____

In direct contrast to the conversation opener with Toph, Katara begins to engage Zuko with an openly concerned question. And even though Katara never disappointed an Iroh-figure in her life in the way Zuko has, Zuko immediately doesn’t close himself off from her, he doesn’t create a wall that prevents him from revealing his deepest fears to her. During this scene, he neither sounds bitter or angry -- he sounds lost, doubtful, and afraid (perhaps even afraid to hope). This shift in tone is blatant in his voice (thanks to Dante Basco’s line delivery) but even with nothing but the written dialogue, we can note the difference in which he describes his turmoil to Toph and as compared to Katara:

With Toph: “But for me, it takes all the mistakes I've made in my life, and shoves them back in my face. My uncle, he's always been on my side, even when things were bad. He was there for me, he taught me so much, and how do I repay him? With a knife in his back. It's my greatest regret, and I may never get to redeem myself.”

With Katara: “No, I'm not okay. My uncle hates me, I know it. He loved and supported me in every way he could, and I still turned against him. How can I even face him?”

With Katara, the underlying bitterness from his conversation with Toph is toned down to the point of nonexistence, though a part of it is still there. With Toph, Zuko says, “it takes all the mistakes I’ve made in my life, and shoves them back in my face,” which is a rather incensed statement. Meanwhile, by saying, “no, I'm not okay. My uncle hates me, I know it,” Zuko directly addresses his self-loathing without the use of language such as “shoves them back in my face,” the latter of which is reminiscent of how individuals may unthinkingly reveal information in a sudden emotional outburst.

Then, when Katara asks him if he’s sorry for what he did, the words come easily to Zuko, the most easily he admits to his own mistakes after three years of not admitting anything truthful to himself: “More sorry than I've been about anything in my entire life.”

And Katara, just as Toph did, says with the utmost confidence and sincerity, “Then he'll forgive you. He will.”

This moment of affirmation that runs parallel between both dialogues is where Zuko’s responses begin to diverge. Whereas Zuko reacts to Toph with disbelief and doubt, this is how he reacts once he hears Katara’s words:

He takes Katara’s words to heart and accepts them. Because out of all the GAang, Katara is the one who knows the most about forgiving him, who most keenly feels the change he underwent since his betrayal in the catacombs. And so he stands, still nervous but no longer afraid, facing forward towards the future instead of back into his past.

Iroh and Zuko’s relationship is one of the most important ones throughout the entire show, so to see Katara play a pivotal role in a critical point in their dynamic shows just how important Katara’s character is to Zuko (and vice versa, though in here I do touch upon the former in more detail).

Although my analysis on the self-disclosure between Zuko and Katara may have run away from me a bit (due to my love for far-too-in-depth critical analysis), these all show an undeniable bond between Zuko and Katara, displaying a profound friendship rooted in narrative parallels, mutual understanding, and interwoven character arcs. Ultimately, their fulfillment of perceived similarities, pair rapport, and (the one I rambled most on) self-disclosure is what establishes Zuko and Katara as not just a strong platonic bond -- but one that has the potential to transition into a romantic one.

Thus concludes my essay on Zutara’s friendship and its connection with the initial stages of intimacy that are shared between both platonic and romantic bonds. After all that analysis, it would be remiss to simply dismiss the Zutara dynamic as one that would instantly become toxic should they pursue a romantic relationship.

That being said, I will explore the possibility of a romantic relationship between Zuko and Katara and how this connects to the latter stages of intimacy -- role-taking, interpersonal role fit, and dyadic crystallization -- in part 2 of this meta-analysis. Click on the link if you want to read it!

Part 2

Works Cited

(only partially in MLA 8 format because I want to live a little)

Close Relationships: A Sourcebook. By Clyde A. Hendrick & Susan S. Hendrick. Link

“Nonverbal behavior in intimate interactions and intimate relationships.” By P.A Andersen, Laura K. Guerrero, & Susanne M. Jones. Link

“On Becoming ‘More Than Friends’: The Transition From Friendship to Romantic Relationship.” By Laura K. Guerrero & Paul A. Mongeau. Link

The Psychology of Intimacy (The Guilford Series on Personal Relationships). By Karen J. Prager. Link

(If you check some of these links, you may note a few of these sources have been cited quite a few times. With just a bit more research, it appears possible to find a plethora of other sources to corroborate the theory of shared platonic-romantic intimacies.)

Thank you all for reading!

[funkymbtifiction]

Re: the recent request about "merging" and also your post a while back about reminding you to talk about 9s and their interactions with entertainment media (movies, etc.) - whenever you have time I would love to hear your thoughts on this! What exactly does "merging" mean? Is it a lack of emotional boundaries? Or a kind of easy identification with characters? Thank you! I hope you're having a good week so far!

9s merge into whatever is happening around them and get swallowed up by it, whether that is other people with louder personalities or the world in general. They have no real boundary against the outer world, and it consumes them. So naturally, 9s would get ‘swallowed up’ by entertainment and merge into it, partly because the brain doesn’t consciously discern between false and real realities in terms of what we “see” happening. 9s think they lack the inner resources to stop this from happening and put up a boundary, so they are ‘helpless’ against it until they realize that they totally can put up a boundary and block things from becoming ‘part of them’ but until that happens... they get swept along.

I have at least eight separate 9 friends that I interact with on a regular basis, so I have a lot of time to watch and think about them. And one thing in particular struck me as interesting -- I happen to love the remake of 3:10 to Yuma. I think it’s a great western, but two of my 9 friends hated it and love the original... so I decided to watch it for comparison. And midway through the original, it dawned on me that the original is the “9 version” and the remake is the “8 version.” The original has a rather pleasant, mild-mannered, congenial villain who even though he is a murderer is a pleasant villain to be around--and the remake’s villain is someone who stabs people in the face with forks and shoves them off cliffs. The original villain is someone you could pleasantly see spend a few years in prison and you wouldn’t mind them getting out again, and the remake villain would probably cut your throat in your sleep. Not only that, the movies themselves are 9ish vs. 8ish in their overall vibe -- slow moving and dreamy original, intense and visceral remake. So I laughed and thought, “Of course 9s would prefer the original, it’s so much more pleasant!” There’s nothing in it to upset them particularly or make them merge into anything they don’t like.

That caused me to start thinking about the other 9 feelers I know and their movie preferences... and how I was usually the one to engage them in stepping outside their movie comfort zone and consider watching something more intense. Some of them loved it, but others did not; and I noticed they had a lot of favorite shows and whatnot where the conflict was all very muted and/or easily resolved. Several episodes into the West Wing, I commented to one that “nothing much happens.” She practically beamed as she said, “I know! It calms me!!“ Another 9 loved old sitcoms because they’re funny. One 9 had a bad reaction to a movie where her favorite actor played a villain, because it made her feel like she was a bad person too for merging into him (as usual). It’s almost like the barriers come down and they are ‘part of’ the characters or the stories; in some instances, it feels for Fi-doms like things are happening TO THEM due to the self-insertion that happens instinctually with Fi-9.

I’ve also noticed as writers, they avoid spending too much time with villains or maybe do not want to create them in the first place. This puzzled me (tbh, I live for writing villains and anti-heroes) so I asked some questions and got a lot of similar answers -- they didn’t want to “spend that much time” with a villain (same for reading about them, or someone they “dislike”) or merge into them, they did not want to think about unpleasant, mean, cruel things (because it would be them doing it in their imagination), and they want to keep things overall mild-mannered and free of conflict. Internal conflict rather than external villains is a huge theme I’ve noticed, especially with FP + 9s. Jan Karon’s Mitford books are written from a 9 point of view (everything calm, peaceful, even-keeled), and most of the direct conflict comes from inside her 9 Father Tim -- who angsts about making minor changes in his life, procrastinates about asking out the beautiful woman next door for months, and sits calmly throughout an 8′s tantrum without moving or saying anything. Karon “leaves the room” for a lot of unpleasant scenes and conversations, leaving you to imagine what was said or done / the fall-out, I presume because she doesn’t want to “live them out.” I’ve seen other 9s avoid writing too much about a bad guy, decide to take him out of a draft, or struggle with writing something with a truly evil person in it. Another 9 friend wrote an entire novel where the only villain was internal angst.

This seems to be more common in feeler 9s than thinker 9s; an ISTP 9 I know has no trouble reading or writing about bad guys, although she doesn’t like certain kinds of intensity in entertainment and admitted it once took her hours and hours to get through an hour and a half long movie, because it was “too much” (too intense, everybody dies, nothing good or nice happens).

9s want to use movies and books and writing to “relax” and relation for them is of course PLEASANT. They want to be at inner peace and that means shutting out or avoiding anything that threatens to make them uncomfortable.

One 9w8 ISFP doesn’t mind watching unpleasant or dark things, but she gets mad about all of them. Her reaction to the 1979 version of Dracula surprised me until I thought about it from a 9w8 perspective. 8s are afraid of having their autonomy taken away from them -- and this Dracula does that to people. He charms them, bedazzles them, or puts them under an “allure” -- her Fi + 9w8 did not like that and it put her on the defense against him. The idea of being ‘violated’ by having her will removed made her hate him immediately and she took it a step further by also hating his 8w7 girlfriend. She “merged” and made it about her reaction to it, rather than just sitting and watching it platonicly.

9s want to avoid intensity at all costs (that’s how you can tell them apart from 7s) which intrigues me, because my 6w7 loves intensity in fiction -- it’s a way for me to safely experience a bunch of different intense feelings and situations all without leaving the comfort of my own couch. But I even notice my 9 fix merging into movies sometimes and blurring the distance between ‘me’ and ‘them.’ It seems to happen when the narrative is too dark and/or depressing -- for some reason, I merged a lot into Mad Men and it made me depressed, and I had a hard time watching Girl, Interrupted as well. So for me it’s sporadic and seems to be based on whether there is any ‘hope’ at the end of the tunnel or not.