#Also he used over 2000 eggs WHAT

[ikeameatballspoisonedme]

BobbyBroccoli is genuinely the best video essayist on YouTube hands down. If I live in the US I would've ran to subscribe to Nebula

[emhm]

Coffee? Please?

Let me preface this by saying; I am not disabled and this is not about 'urgent' vet bills.

[I have an outstanding debt to pay in that regard, but the monthly payment is small and the service was already done. It was the amputation for our kitten Lucky's dead front leg.]

I do have a job and the pay is too good to quit. I work 40 hours a week and I spend almost 13 more hours just driving to and from work because our boss 'can't find a work assignment closer to where I live.' Up until about two weeks ago my partner was also working 40 hours a week on an opposing shift. We were just starting to get on top of our crushing pile of monthly bills. Then she lost her work assignment [not her fault] and he couldn't find anything else for her to do. So she lost a whole weeks pay. He found her a place, but now she's only getting 24 hours a week instead of 40. And we were already struggling to pay for the bare essentials. I was hoping so hard to just have something left when the bills were paid. But my entire tax return was used to pay for overdue bills and it still wasn't all of them.

-We have not had a working washing machine since September. Almost all of my ancient towels have rotted and ripped apart from trying to hang dry them to avoid killing the dryer too.

-Our house does not have central heat or air so we've been freezing for months with no money to buy wood for the stove. [It's warmer now but still in the low 40s at night where I am.]

-We have been flushing the toilet with buckets of water for almost a year because hiring a plumber is not happening.

-For over a year we have been fighting the flea infestation caused by the deadbeat trash-pit roommate we had to force to move out. They're biting me as well as the cats and I'm allergic to them. So I constantly have a rash on my feet and ankles. We never have money for flea drops consistently enough to get rid of them and I do not have a working vacuum to get rid of the flea eggs in the carpet.

-I just had to take on $1200 worth of debt because my tires were bald from my ungodly commute and they told me the brakes need replacing very soon.

-Our youngest cat Lucky will need to be fixed soon because she's almost old enough to go into heat. [She's indoors only but I don't want to deal with the screaming.]

Our predatory mortgage payment is almost $2000 a month with all their shitty add-on fees. My car payment is $334. The internet is $87. The power is usually $125. Car insurance is about $115. Garbage is $65. Our car is shared and I go through 1 tank +1/4 tank of gas EVERY WEEK. I owe both Sunbit AND Carecredit. We're both estranged from abusive parents and have no other family to turn to in an emergency.

I can't ask for money for fanfic. I know that's unethical and illegal.

But I can tell you that I write better/faster/more when I'm not distracted by gut-wrenching despair, crippling anxiety attacks and the bone-deep fear of quickly losing my home because I'm always two missed paychecks away from disaster. I know pretty much everyone is in the same boat, and my problems aren't unique or special.

But anything helps.

I have several hundred dollars in overdue bills from last month and it's already time for the next month's to start arriving. I feel so hopeless and I don't know what else to do besides resorting to begging.

I just set up a Ko-fi account - https://ko-fi.com/followmeontumblr

My Paypal is attached to this old email address - Nightshade518@yahoo.com

I have an Etsy shop with some things for sale - https://www.etsy.com/shop/PatchworkLaboratory

I also have a Spoonflower shop with fabric featuring my designs. [I only make $1.50 per yard that people buy though.] - https://www.spoonflower.com/profiles/infamousdoctorf

And for anyone who was kind enough to read this whole thing- I do have some NSFW sketches I've drawn for "Eclipse Meets His Match" that I have nowhere safe to post. If you're bold enough to direct-message me with the line-

"I swear on all I hold holy that I am not a minor. Show me the art."

I'll let you see them. Thank you either way.

-Doc

[sameschmidtdiffname]

And now, for some shit ain't nobody asked for... *drumroll please...*

Fanboy Futturman Headcanons That Hardly Make Sense Unless You're Deranged

(because it's fun)

Tags: just rawdog it bruh, idk what this is. I got fucken murmed.

Notes: Special thanks to @luverstream for going insane with me. This list is based off of our oddly specific thread. Love you pookers <3

                        °☆>》¤●¤《<☆°

• 100% started writing fanfiction for 'Biotic Wars' because there was only two works in the whole fandom and they were both illiterate/ooc

• It started as a challenge because he likes writing as a hobby so he made a random account on Tumblr and wrote a one-shot from Tigers POV just for shits and giggles

• He didn't expect literally anyone to read it, maybe a couple notes

• Then around his lunch break the next day his phone won't. Stop. Dinging.

• Long story short, he ends up with an account with like. 1.1k followers

• Once he realizes he has a serious reader base, he takes his blog seriously

• He spends a weird amount of time perfectly curating his blogs aesthetic with mods and whatever extentions he can find

• Personally commissions other fans for his fanfic borders, proper gifs, etc. He has one fanfic actually illustrated for Kinktober and it stays at the top of the 'Biotic War' tags for months

• Speaking of Kinktober, literally will not make plans for October/late September because he knows he's gonna aim to post everyday

• Will stay up for days writing when he gets hyperfixated

• Hates posting short fics. If the number doesn't end with a .k he doesn't post it until it does

• Also has a bunch of Easter eggs from his favorite movies and such in his works as well

• Knows an insane amount of copywrite laws because he's had to deal with people illegally selling his works/uploading them on other platforms

• When he eventually gets a partner he initially lies and says he wanted to become a lawyer when he was a kid, thus why he knows so much

• That works for about 12 minutes before he finally breaks down and tells them the truth, then offers to show them his work because he's told literally no one in his personal life about it

• His partner eventually becomes his editor and co-author on certain works (mainly smut)

• Half the time when he's actively working on smut he's gotta stop midway to "test the accuracy" w/ said partner

• Writes OUTRAGEOUS smut that makes him unable to look in the mirror while he's writing it

• Deadass hides under his blankets in total darkness with tape over his computers camera because of the shame

• Has a collection of proofreaders/consultants because his first smut included cervix penetration and he got dragged by basically everyone on Tumblr for it

• Had a work get popular enough one time one of his friends sent it to him because they figured he'd get a kick out of it

• Which made him panic and stop writing for like a month to lay low

• Has a completely different Spotify account for writing because his mom uses his "normal" account even though he has a family plan (side note: they make little playlists for each other :))

• Has like 50 different playlists dedicated to his fics that's available for his readers to listen to

• The artists all range from Deftones to dodie depending on the work

• His top artist is Ayesha Erotica with 2000+ minutes spent on 'Yummy'

• (Also has an impossible amount of hours logged on said Spotify account)

• Has a whole panic attack when he leaves his phone in the 60s because he had a whole new chapter ready to publish in his 20 part hurt/no comfort/slowburn fic that was over 10.k words in his notes app

• Wolf finds his Ao3 account one time and becomes... concerningly obsessed with Futturmans work without realizing Futturman is the author

• It gets to the point Wolf will legit go on 30+ minute rants about the stories while Futturman is just hyperventilating in the corner because he doesn't know how long he can keep up the facade

• It gets worse when Wolf makes an account and starts actually commenting on the works

• However he ends up getting impressive tips from the rants and ends up incorporating his suggestions into his works

• Wolf never stops bragging about this

• His most popular work/series follows a female oc that originally started as a one-shot request for a oc x Wolf fic (which Wolf hates because he says it's OoC. Futturman does not agree nor care.) But ended up getting popular enough there's well over 20 parts

• At some point he, Wolf and Tiger get into a massive argument because he finds a bound copy of all of his works amongst their supplies and no one will confess who's it is and keep blaming each other

• (It's Tigers)

• When he gets to his final timeline he manages to get his all of his drafts back through Susan (who had a lot of questions, and was given no answers) and just publishes his work as an original series since Biotic Wars no longer exists

• "Orginial series" gets insanely popular and now he has like five burner accounts so he can read fanfiction of his own fanfiction

• Writes fanfiction for his own series purposely to fuck with the fanbase

• Usually will make it ooc but well written, but once in awhile comes up with a "headcanon" that will come true in his next book so he can watch the readers implode

• And last but not least

• He casts his other self in the final timeline as the male lead in the eventual movie adaptation. Because of course he would

(Bonus: in the OG timeline when Futturman ends up disappearing, his biggest series ends up never being finished, nor his blog updated. Leading to a weirdly thorough four hour video docuseries made by Wendigoon about the rise and disappearance of the mysterious author and how the 'Biotic Wars' fandom eventually finished the fic themselves and created their own spinoffs, leading the work to get more popular than 'Biotic Wars' ever was and like five different people falsely claiming they wrote it, only to be disproven within an insanely short amount of time. Yeah, kinda a full on My Immortal.)

                           >¤》○《¤<

Don't ask me what this was, I think I got possessed. Anyways, bon achoo sweet.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[rainbowmothed]

︵︵ MISC. HAZBIN HOTEL HEADCANONS

╰ ⋯ ➢ just some random hcs i thought of off the top of my head!! ♡ as always, reblogs and likes appreciated! includes both main cast and heaven hcs. :3

𝜚 ₎ MAIN CAST HCS

Vaggie says stuff like “rad,” “dude,” etcetera unironically and definitely gets made fun of for it. Mostly by Cherri and Angel– Pentious says it is ‘hashtag trending awesome sauce.’

Vaggie sets 6 alarms in the morning, all with custom minute intervals between the snooze alarms to make SURE she doesn't sleep through it. Charlie doesn't mind, though, mainly because she wakes up at four in the morning to work on projects anyway.

Charlie has made playlists for everyone in the hotel on hell's equivalent of spotify; Vaggie's is the most well thought out, but they all describe them very well. Alastor never listens to it due to his dislike for modern technology/apps, but he appreciates it– or at least acts like he does– nonetheless.

Charlie definitely rides on Alastor's shoulders like a little kid bro IDC WHAT U SAY

Vaggie has cried ONCE in front of the rest of the hotel after being genuinely dogged on repeatedly on one of the worst days of her life, and they all just stared at her in shock. They hate on her so much because it never impacts her– or so they think so, because Vaggie always shrugs it off. They refuse to talk about it.

Vaggie's spice tolerance is unmatched.

Each night, Charlie visits Pentious’ memorial and wraps a weighted blanket around it, saying that maybe it'd remind him of the Egg Bois and the way they snuggled around him in the afterlife.

Vaggie is a huge Hunger Games fan. 90% of her personality derives from Katniss Everdeen.

Adding onto the last one, if Charlie and Vaggie were to have a child, I feel like it'd have the personality of Lucy Gray Baird.

Niffty definitely writes strange fanfiction. Also has BL as her header on the Hell's equivalent of Twitter. She's a little twisted, but we love her.

Cherri is an absolute menace. That is the best word to describe her.

Angel and Cherri did the “screaming in public restrooms” prank once.

Everyone assumed Charlie was mid-20s until she dropped the bomb that she's over 200 years old. They were all flabbergasted (minus Vaggie, who already knew. Angel also called her a “gilf lover.”)

Angel asked Vaggie about her body count once to tick her off, and she answered “around 1,000 or so, roughly estimated,” thinking he meant kill count. Charlie was shook.

Vaggie is a Paramore, Flyleaf, Evanescence, etcetera fan. Proud listener to 2000s emo girl music.

Charlie's guilty pleasure is punk/metal/rock music. She says she only listens to “Taylor Swift and musicals,” but she has a hidden playlist with KORN, PTV, and all of those bands on it.

Angel wakes Husk up by blasting Ayesha Erotica songs into his ear occasionally since Husk is a heavy sleeper and refuses to get up sometimes.

Pentious calls himself a “semi-proud father of the Egg Bois.”

Charlie ran a hate page about Katie Killjoy. She has since moved on from it... probably.

𝜚 ₎ HEAVEN HCS

Vaggie definitely played about 100 sports back in Heaven. Fencing, soccer, and, bare with me here, she definitely did ballet. She refuses to admit so, however.

The exorcists actually aren't brought into the world as adults. Instead, they're raised by volunteer parents of Heaven their entire lives, starting fighting training at age 6 or so. They claim that “children's brains are easier to mold.” Basically, they're taught to be murder weapons from a very, very young age. It's also instinctive, but it's the training that truly brings it out.

Each exterminator is based on a different bird breed, but the most common are eagles, falcons, hawks, and generally predatory avians.

The Exterminators are also very fast flyers, and they establish the quickest flyers through racing. Vaggie was formerly the fastest until she was cast down to Hell. Now, the fastest is Lute.

Adam also referees these races, and instead of a gun or whistle to start them off, he uses his guitar.

[snawbeanart]

a small tribute to those 2010's character tribute videos (some context under the Read More)

(Copied from the YT description)

Tribute video for Fawfuigi, a "what-if" scenario if Fawful had fawfulized Luigi early on during Mario & Luigi: Bowser's Inside Story. Also a tribute to those really old Mario tribute videos from the late 2000's - early 2010's (especially the Luigi and Mr. L ones that'd use this same song). Set quality to 144p for the optimal viewing experience. Song used is Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace, and I drew all the artwork (though some are edited Nintendo renders / artwork. also some backgrounds are from Mario & Luigi: Bowser's Inside Story).

If you're not familiar with the Mario & Luigi series and are wondering what's gone wrong with Luigi, he's been turned into a goofy prankster bean man by a genius evil bean scientist / engineer named Fawful. Fawful sparked chaos throughout the Mushroom Kingdom by starting an epidemic of bloated Toads, hijacking Bowser's Castle, stealing a forbidden object of great dark power, with the kingdom's authorities trapped in Bowser's stomach all the while.

Fawful does something called fawfulization throughout the kingdom during his conquest- this usually means he stamped his face and/or likeness onto something. He fawfulized statues, carpets, castles, animals, and even clouds. So what would be a bigger middle finger to Mario than fawfulizing his own brother?

The story of this scenario / AU (note this is an unfinished and pretty condensed retelling, I didn't want to write out all the elements of BIS that'd still happen but weren't really plot-relevant):

The morning that Mario and Luigi were supposed to appear at the Blorbs epidemic conference held at Peach's Castle, Luigi was strangely absent. Luigi is assumed to be late and the meeting continues until Bowser barges in and, under the influence of Fawful's Vacuum Mushroom, inhales all of the participants.

Meanwhile, the now-fawfulized Fawfuigi is running amuck, further adding insult to injury to the befuddled kingdom. He doesn't mean much harm most of the time, but his sense of humor can be very mean-spirited. His objective is to stall Mario from getting anywhere near Fawful, but can't seem to find the red plumber for a while.

Mario has been struggling without his brother. When he finally leaves Bowser's body, he's too late. The Dark Star the princess had warned him of was stolen. Things were only going to get worse.

When Mario leaves the town's caves and hobbles home to take a breather, he finds that his door has been slathered with rotten eggs. His shelves have been unconventionally reorganized. Someone had drawn over his family portrait with marker. Mario was infuriated but also baffled. Who and why?

He finds out soon enough. When he sees Fawfuigi, he knows that must be Luigi, but he doesn't want to believe it. He found him at Bumpsy Plains, setting up banana peels on the pathway to Bowser Path. When Fawfuigi spots him, he hurls a ball of electricity at Mario intending to start a fight, but Mario doesn't want to hurt him. Starlow urges Mario to do something to stop him, but after Mario fails to reason with Fawfuigi, he flees.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

North To The Future [Chapter 9: A Long December]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

A/N: While “A Long December” was originally released by Counting Crows in 1996 (and is thus compliant with the 90s theme), the version I listen to most is Girlhouse’s cover from 2022. So maybe check that out. It is a bop!

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, discussions of sex, a tiny bit of sexual content, Christmas with Momtini and Dadtini, Kimmie making a realization, Aegon making a drink, Appletini making plans, Trent making some killer pool shots, the Ice Fisher getting into the holiday spirit, please enjoy this nice little respite before the events of Chapter 10. :)

Word count: 6.9k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: ​​​​@elsolario​ @ladylannisterxo​ @doingfondue​ @tclegane​ @quartzs-posts​ @liathelioness​ @aemcndtargaryen​ @thelittleswanao3​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @hinata7346​ @poohxlove​ @borikenlove​ @myspotofcraziness​ @travelingmypassion​ @graykageyama​ @skythighs​ @lauraneedstochill​ @darlingimafangirl​ @charenlie​ @thewew​ @eddies-bat-tattoos​ @minttea07​ @joliettes​ @trifoliumviridi​ @bornbetter​ @flowerpotmage​ @thewitch-lives​ @courtenbae​ @tempt-ress​ @padfooteyes​ @teenagecriminalmastermind​ @chelsey01​ @anditsmywholeheart​ 

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

You descend the staircase gingery, sheepishly. Your socks slip on the hardwood steps like tires on black ice. You’re trying to avoid your parents, but you can’t wait any longer to eat breakfast or you’ll be late for work. They’re bustling around in the kitchen: cracking eggs, chitchatting, banging plates and pans, cooing over Sunfyre, listening to an R.E.M. album that spins on the record player.

When you walk in, your dad is standing by the stove wearing the apron you got him for his 50th birthday. Pizza Slut, it says. He grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “Hey, ladybug.”

“Oh no.”

“I heard you come home pretty late last night. And then you got right into the shower. Hmm.”

“Hmm!” your mom concurs joyfully.

Your dad nods to the pan he’s hovering over, wielding a spatula. “Salmon omelet?”

You sigh, defeated; and yet, you must admit, you love salmon omelets. “Yeah, sure.” You sit down at the table next to your mom. She’s drinking Earl Grey tea smokey with cream and reading a newspaper: Halle Barry is marrying a jazz musician, Puff Daddy’s Notorious.com is looking for a venture capitalist willing to invest $7.5 million in startup funding, a man was arrested in Times Square for threatening President Clinton, the Nasdaq composite index—fueled largely by the dot-com boom—could hit 5,000 by the end of 2000. You wonder what Aegon’s family is doing right now. Do outrageously wealthy people eat omelets and decorate Christmas trees? Do they hop from store to store in some glitzy metropolitan mall hunting for presents—KB Toys, the Disney Store, Hallmark, Bath and Body Works, Hot Topic, RadioShack, Claire’s, Wet Seal, Yankee Candle—before grabbing a late-afternoon snack at Cinnabon or Sbarro, maybe a smoothie from Orange Julius? Or do they just sit in their mansions under vast unsmiling portraits until they grow dusty and turn to stone: gargoyles, angels, lions bearing their fangs? Are they still human at all?

“How’s Trent doing?” your mom asks. “Still trying to get into the Forest Service?”

“As far as I know. But that’s not who I was with last night.”

Your dad sets an omelet down in front of you, along with a glass of orange juice and one of the same Flintstones multivitamins you’ve been taking since you were in preschool. Jesse used to give me those, you think randomly, recalling the reminders he penned in his clandestine journals. When he was around. When he was sober. Your parents exchange a wary glance. “Oh?” your dad ventures in a squeak, trying to sound casual.

You could lie, but you don’t. Juneau is too small for lies. People know each other too well, they bump elbows in grocery stores and bars and parking lots; they make overly-familiar small talk and inadvertently spill secrets. The last thing you need is someone teasing Trent good-naturedly about your supposed night of passion. He might be dumb, but if he ever gets all the pieces in his titan hands he’ll eventually figure out how they click together. “I was, uh, actually, uh…visiting Aegon.”

They watch you, faces frozen in forced, benign smiles. You pet the top of Sunfyre’s shaggy head with your left hand and stab a fork into the salmon omelet with your right. “Well, that’s great!” your dad manages. “He’s a nice boy, that Aegon. So Greek. And plenty sexy, as we’ve previously established.”

“Is he feeling better?” your mom asks politely, slurping her tea.

“Oh yeah. Much better.” It comes out way too enthusiastic, and hot blood floods into your face. Your parents chuckle…and yet their eyes are troubled, distant, though perhaps in different directions. “Just so you know, things aren’t really working out with Trent. I’m trying to let it fizzle so there isn’t any drama that makes things awkward or creates any…uh…bad blood, I guess. So if you see him around, definitely don’t mention Aegon.”

Your dad does a mock salute. “Got it, General Ladybug.”

“What are Aegon’s plans for Christmas?” your mom inquires. Your dad turns to her, but doesn’t say anything. “It must be difficult for him, being so far from home. Especially around the holidays. I would hate for him to be alone.”

Probably drinking himself into unconsciousness while watching Jingle All The Way and Die Hard. “I don’t know, that’s a good question. I should ask him.”

“He can spend Christmas here with us, if he’d like.” Your mom finishes her tea, sets the cup down on the table, fiddles with it. “We’ll have more than enough food. And we could find a few things to wrap for him so he has presents to open.”

“Now if that’s not holiday spirit, I don’t know what is!” your dad says happily; and if he’s bluffing, he’s good at not showing it. He kisses your mom on the cheek, resting his study hands on her shoulders. She smiles up at him.

You wolf down the last few bites of your salmon omelet, chew your vitamin, knock back orange juice like a shot. “Alright, I should get going, or I won’t be back in time to open the vet clinic at 9.”

“I can always hold down the fort for a few hours,” your dad offers.

“No, that’s okay. I appreciate it, but I don’t want to bother you.” I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want to let you down. “You’ve earned retirement. Enjoy all the Judge Judy and Buffy The Vampire Slayer you can handle.” You pet Sunfyre and tug playfully on his ears. His tail wags at warp speed. “Are you ready to go home to your favorite person now? Are you excited?”

Your dad lumbers off into the kitchen. “Here, bring Aegon some breakfast too…” He piles a salmon omelet, a mountain of hash browns, and toast slathered with butter and strawberry jelly into a Tupperware container. You take it and glance out the window that faces the driveway.

“Oh, great. Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“The cow moose is out there licking the road salt off my Jeep. Can you get rid of her?”

“Again?! Okay, I’m on it.” He grabs some pots out of the cabinet and heads outside. You can hear him beating the pots together and shouting: “Goodbye, moose! You live in the woods, not the driveway! Goodbye! Au revoir! Adios, mooseachos!”

At the kitchen table, your mom laughs. She’s still tinkering anxiously with her cup. “Only in Alaska.”

“You’re really alright with Aegon coming over for Christmas?”

“Of course. I’d prefer it, actually. I’d rather know he’s safe. Not alone, not in trouble.”

“Even though he might end up passed out under the tree?”

She smiles: faint, tired, melancholic. “I’ve seen worse.”

When you let yourself into Aegon’s apartment, he’s dressed for work and self-medicating with a rum and Coke mixed in a cereal bowl; it’s the only dish he has that’s currently clean. Sunfyre bolts to him, barking wildly and jumping up to prop his paws on Aegon’s chest as you slide the Tupperware onto the kitchen counter.

“Hey, buddy!” Aegon cries, ecstatic. “I missed you! Yes I did! Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?!”

“Where are you going?” you ask, scrutinizing him.

“Fishing,” he says simply, like this should be obvious.

“I don’t think you should be going back to work this soon. You just got out of the hospital.”

He shrugs. “I need the money.”

“I can give you money.”

“You definitely could, but I don’t want your money, I want my money. Besides, Trent won’t be able to protect my job forever. If I can’t work, Rusty will find someone else who can.”

“Trent,” you echo morosely, staring at nothing in particular.

Aegon downs the rest of his rum and Coke, then puts his bowl in the sink. He walks over to you, his oceanic eyes cautious, his lock of white-blond hair resting on his cheek. “What did he do to you? At dinner, I mean. Before you called me.”

You take his left hand and turn it over, studying the lines on his palm: past, present, future, all in a language you can’t read. You hesitate; you can’t decide what to tell Aegon. You aren’t sure what you want him to know.

“He didn’t hurt you, right? Or try to touch you in a way you didn’t want him to?”

“He kissed me. I pushed him off. That’s all.”

Aegon watches you, eyes severe and glinting. “That’s not all.”

“I tried to break up with him at the restaurant,” you confess. “First he acted like he didn’t understand. Then he got upset, offended. We agreed to slow down, but I’m not sure what he thinks that means. Maybe he’s planning a summer engagement instead of a spring one, I have no idea.”

“You made him angry.” Aegon’s voice is flat, entirely flat, like he’s battling to keep it that way. “I thought we agreed not to make him angry.”

“Well I didn’t do it on purpose, Aegon.”

“No no no, my bad, let me clarify, I’m not mad at you. I just don’t understand why you would be so direct about it. I’ve broken up with a lot of people without actually breaking up with them. You ignore, you deflect, you do the bare minimum, you are intentionally unappealing in every way…and then eventually they move on. That’s the way to go. That’s how you avoid confrontations.”

“I don’t want this thing with Trent to die a slow death.” Oh, perhaps a poor choice of words. “I don’t want to be with him, to even keep up the facade of being with him. I want to be with you. I want to be with you in every way, everywhere, all the time.”

Aegon smiles. He twists his fingers into your hair and touches his forehead to yours and then kisses you, softly and unhurriedly. As he pulls away, he gently bites your lower lip; his fingertips ghost across the front of your throat like a necklace, like a chain. You moan into him, unable to help it. “I won’t go to work if you don’t either,” Aegon murmurs.

“I, an eternally upstanding citizen, definitely have to go to work.”

“Man, fuck capitalism,” he says, and you laugh together.

Something occurs to you. “You didn’t wait for Kimmie to move on. You broke up with her.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I had another candidate in mind for the extremely prestigious position of being my Juneau girl.”

You tuck his hair behind his ear and kiss him again: heat, rum, memories from the night before. Lust stirs up in your blood like ancient silt in seawater. “Please be careful at work.”

“I will, Appletini. I will. Don’t worry. You’re always worrying about things that haven’t happened yet. There’s no point in that.”

“I think I’m just someone who’s doomed to worry a lot in general.”

He grins. “Yes. But I’m your favorite thing to worry about.” He lays his palm against your right cheek and kisses your left: quickly, lightly, like it’s routine, like he’ll be doing it every day for the rest of his life. “Have fun at the vet clinic. Saving all those furry little lives.”

“I’ll see you at Ursa Minor tonight?”

He winks. “I’ll be the one with the electric guitar.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You get stuck late at the clinic spaying Mr. Mark Morehouse’s Flemish Giant rabbit. By the time you rush through the front door of Ursa Minor—bells jangling, a gust of cold wind at your heels, patrons glancing over with vague interest—the band is already performing. Aegon is wearing his cuffed jeans, black combat boots, and, in a radical departure from his usual color scheme, a royal blue turtleneck sweater. He’s braided a section of his hair on the left side of his head and woven a single, small, blue-dyed rose into it. He gives you a subtle nod when he sees you come in, a sly half-smile. He’s singing a punk rock, up-tempo version of Counting Crow’s A Long December.

“I can’t remember the last thing that you said as you were leaving, now the days go by so fast…”

“Heyyy, bitch!” Heather greets you, raising her Sex On The Beach. Joyce and Kimmie are swaying together, brandishing lighters in the air: Joyce smirking and reluctant, Kimmie—a born groupie—shamelessly exuberant. You swing by the bar to get a Bacardi Breezer (blueberry, very good, one of the better flavors) and stand beside Heather. You gaze at Aegon as he strums his battered guitar, and the parallel strikes you for the first time. Aegon too is layered with imperfections: scars, marks, ink, demons with gnashing fangs and needlelike fingers that dangle past their knees. And yet what he gives to the world is so beautiful. And yet he is so goddamn miraculous.

“I can’t remember all the times I tried to tell my myself to hold on to these moments as they pass…”

It takes you a long time to notice that Kimmie is watching you. Something clicks like a dislocated joint popped back into its socket; and that’s the way it’s always been with Kimmie, since she was a child, since she was a five-year-old chasing boys around the playground at recess. The hints pile up—a lot of hints, sometimes years of hints—until eventually there’s an avalanche of realization that hits and drags her under like a rogue wave. She sucks in a breath and her doelike eyes shoot wide open. You try to pretend you didn’t see anything, but that’s not Kimmie’s style. She pushes her way through the audience and grabs your wrist, hauling you away from the crowd. Heather observes this, slurping down her Sex On The Beach, trying to ascertain if you need reinforcements.

“What—?!”

“I didn’t know,” Kimmie says, like it’s an apology. Her eyes are pained and fearful, a deer bathed in headlights.

“You didn’t know what?”

“That you’re in love with him.” Her voice is reedy and trembling. She’s petrified, you realize. She’s afraid that I’ll never be able to be her friend again. Not a true friend, not a pure one. “I swear to God, I didn’t know. I even asked you first. I never would have hooked up with him if I had known, never, never. I’m so sorry. I’m so so so sorry. It didn’t mean anything, it wasn’t like we had real feelings for each other—”

“Kimmie, Kimmie, it’s fine,” you soothe, rubbing her shoulder. She’s wearing a ridiculously fluffy hot pink sweater; it’s like petting a neon sheep. “I’m the one who wasn’t upfront with you. I didn’t think Aegon and I had a chance, so I was purposefully trying to avoid him, to avoid any feelings I had for him. It didn’t work out that way, but…yeah. Anyway. I don’t blame you for anything.”

“Oh my god, so you’re together? Like, together?” Kimmie blinks at you, shocked but not scandalized. You’re not sure it’s possible to scandalize Kimmie.

“We don’t really want everyone to know about it.”

“Oh, because of Trent?”

Now it’s your turn to be shocked. Maybe some of those genius professor genetics made it down the Plinko board after all. “Exactly.”

“Jesus Christ, he’d probably snap Aegon in half if he knew. Like a freaking KitKat bar.”

“That’s a mental image I didn’t need.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Kimmie swears, empowered by this rare, consequential responsibility.

“I really, really appreciate your discretion.”

“You and Aegon, wow…” She mulls it over, baffled. “So you’re pretty kinky too? I wouldn’t have guessed that. You should have told me! We could have gone shopping together!”

Shopping with Kimmie for fuzzy handcuffs and riding crops and, who knows, probably like vibrating butt plugs or something. I don’t think I’m emotionally prepared for that. I will most likely never be emotionally prepared for that. “Boundaries, Kimmie. Honestly, I haven’t seen that side of him. At least not in my albeit limited experience.”

“Huh,” Kimmie says brightly. “I guess he’s in love with you too.” And then she trots off to rejoin the crowd. Boat #27 has concluded their performance and is accepting cheers of acclaim and complimentary drinks from their adoring fans. Joyce hugs Rob, climbing onto her tiptoes and giggling. Joyce!? Giggling!?!? You grab another Bacardi Breezer before heading over, raspberry this time.

“Hey, babe!” Trent booms when he sees you.

Oh god. Oh no. You shrink away when he throws an arm across your shoulders. Aegon watches this as he approaches, sipping a rum and Coke, eyes like blue embers.

“Right,” Trent groans, like it’s some grave inconvenience, like it’s some passing fad he has to endure. “I remember now. We’re taking things slow.”

The clique assembles by the pool table like battle-ready Power Rangers: you, Trent, Joyce, Rob, Heather, Kimmie, Aegon. “Someone should play!” you say, truly a master of redirection.

Trent flips his hair. “Obviously I’m down.” He looks at you expectantly. You ignore him, drinking your Bacardi Breezer and then pretending to drink it once it’s empty.

“Oh, you are going down.” Heather cracks her knuckles and grins, then picks up a cue stick.

“Battle royal!” Rob announces. Joyce sighs and pulls a fantasy novel out of her purse. Kimmie perches on the edge of the pool table: legs crossed, eyes roving, gold hoop earrings glittering under Christmas lights, seeking attention and drawing it to her like Saturn ensnares moons. A gaggle of bashful men appear out of nowhere to worship her. Dale’s stereo pipes out Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You. Dale himself is wearing a red Santa hat and yawning boredly into the back of his hand.

“I need another drink,” you say, and head for the bar. Aegon follows you.

“You don’t want a Bacardi Breezer.”

“I don’t?”

“No. You don’t.” He flags Dale over once you’ve claimed your seats. “Hey Dale, did you get the stuff on the list I gave you?”

“Sure did.” Dale sets an array of items on the bar: apple juice, lemon juice, florescent green apple schnapps, vodka, a single Granny Smith apple, a paring knife, a shaker halfway filled with ice, a small plate covered with sugar, two chilled martini glasses. “You owe me, though. Especially for the schnapps. I had to order a case all the way from Seattle!”

“Add it to my tab.”

“Which you’ll pay when? In 2023?”

“I’ll pay, Dale!” Aegon insists.

Dale rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t seem genuinely annoyed. “Sure you will.” He yawns again and ambles away to take the orders of some locals sitting at the other end of the bar. The thuds of his boots are heavy and slow on the hardwood floor, the same one Aegon almost died on nine days ago.

“What are we doing?” you ask, but you’re already smiling. You have a pretty good guess.

“We’re making appletinis,” Aegon replies.

“You knew how to make appletinis this entire time and never said anything?”

“Oh no, I definitely did not,” he says. “I found the phone number of a friend I met back in San Francisco and figured she might know. She’s a bartender. So I gave her a call and asked very, very nicely and sure enough, she had a recipe.” He pauses, contemplative. “I told her I was in Chicago. Just in case.”

Just in case his ghost manages to track her down. “Have you seen this friend naked?”

“Does it matter?”

“No,” you say, and you find that you mean it. Aegon is here with you now, and that’s all you can ask for. Still, his commitment to relative honestly seems enduring.

“The answer is yes. But it wasn’t like it is with you.”

“Really, it doesn’t matter. I’m not mad or anything.”

“Yeah, you don’t look mad.”

You smile at each other, Christmas-light sparks in your eyes, alone in a crowded room. Well…alone except for Mariah Carey. “Anyway,” you prompt. “Am I getting a real-life appletini or what?”

“Let’s do this. Uh…” He furrows his brow, trying to remember. “Okay. I think I know how it goes.” He adds apple juice and lemon juice to the shaker. He doesn’t measure; he estimates, splashing in a little at a time until he’s content. He caps the container, gives it a few vigorous shakes, then opens it again. He pours in the schnapps and vodka, then shakes again. “Cut a few slices off the apple, vet lady. Nice and thin.”

You do, four transparent crescent-moon slivers. Aegon rubs lemon juice around the rim of each martini glass with his ring finger and then dunks them in the sugar until the rims are covered in fine white crystals like snow. He garnishes the martini glasses with the apple slices, gives the shaker one last whirl, then empties the contents into the glasses: half for you, half for him. He hands you your introductory appletini and toasts his glass against yours.

“On three?” Aegon asks, and you nod, beaming. You count together: one, two, three.

Your first taste isn’t a tentative sip. You take a full, brave swallow of the vivid green brew. It’s jarringly sour, sticky-sweet, crisp and refreshing like springtime. “Oh, I love it!” you trill.

“It’s…uh…” He takes another investigative slurp. “It’s definitely appley.”

“You hate it,” you say, laughing.

“I don’t hate it,” he counters. “I like what it’s doing to you.”

You close your eyes, the sights and sounds of Ursa Minor fading away. You’re somewhere sleek and vibrant and new; you’re in New York City, you’re in Los Angeles, you’re in Las Vegas, you’re in San Diego. When you open your eyes, Aegon is smiling. “Sorry. I was teleporting.”

“Do you want the rest of mine?”

“Yeah,” you admit guiltily, and he slides his appletini over to rest by yours. You drain them both. “I’m like Jack Dawson. I’m the king of the world.”

“You’re very, very cute when you’re tipsy, that’s what you are.”

“My parents think you should spend Christmas with us. I think you should too.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay. Don’t buy me anything fancy, though. I won’t be able to return the favor.”

“Sad impoverished homeless man gifts only. You have my word.”

“Hey!” Heather calls from the pool table. She’s waving her cue stick in the air. “I lost! I’m a loser! I got slaughtered by this jumbo-sized motherfucker! And you weren’t even here to witness it!”

“We should go over there,” you tell Aegon, and he steadies you when you wobble as you slide off the barstool. “Oh, god, I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool. Now I have an excuse to touch you.”

“Dale, can I get some Chex Mix or something?” He tosses you a little blue bag from behind the bar. You miss it completely. It sails over your head and smacks into the floor. Aegon cackles hysterically, but fetches the bag. He even opens it before he hands it to you. Then you set off together for the pool table.

“What’s wrong with you?” Heather asks when you arrive, her eyes narrow.

“I like appletinis. I really like appletinis.”

“It’s December 22nd, the commencement of Capricorn season, and you are celebrating this momentous event with an uncharacteristic display of recklessness and frivolity? Inauspicious!”

“What did I miss? Besides your humiliation.”

“Flintstones vitamins,” Rob says, rubbing blue chalk on a cue stick. He and Trent are playing pool now; Trent is showing Kimmie and several of her sycophants, including Matt and Gary, how he can make a shot with his hands behind his back. Aegon circles the pool table, his hands in his jeans pockets, watching Trent reticently. “Childish and stupid or totally acceptable for mid-twenties adults?”

“Totally acceptable,” you declare, munching on Chex Mix. “I just had one this morning.”

“That’s what I said!” Kimmie cries. “They’re delicious. I could eat a whole bottle of them. I used to lie to my mom when I was a kid and insist she hadn’t given one to me yet so I could get extra. My high score was five in a day.”

“That can’t be good for you,” Heather says. “Wait. Maybe it explains some things.”

“A lot of things,” Joyce quips, turning a page in her book.

Kimmie defers to you, the foremost medical authority present. “Vitamins can’t hurt people, right?”

“Well, that depends on the vitamin.”

“Some can,” Aegon says. “The fat-soluble ones, because your body can’t flush them out as easily or something. Too much Vitamin A can really fuck someone up. There are people who’ve died because they ate a polar bear liver, which has, like, millions of units of Vitamin A. So if you ever happen to eat a polar bear, skip the liver.”

“You can overdose on vitamins?” Kimmie asks him, puzzled. “Like, vitamins can kill you?”

“Oh yeah, lots of things can kill you if you take enough of them. Too much Vitamin A can cause seizures and comas, Vitamin D can give you a heart attack, Vitamin E can make you hemorrhage out of your eyeballs and stuff. And it causes strokes.”

“Oh snap!” Kimmie exclaims in horror, thinking that perhaps she barely escaped with her life. Heather is thoroughly amused.

You look at Aegon as he passes by you like a satellite whirling around the Earth, a blinking light in suffocating darkness. He’s right, but he shouldn’t be. He hasn’t studied medicine. He hasn’t studied much of anything. “How do you know all that?”

He replies curtly: “How do you think?” And then he resumes his orbit.

Rob attempts a shot and misses. “Ha!” Trent says, flipping his hair, and then starts lining up his own. As he leans over the pool table, he asks you: “So, where were you last night?”

Your mind, already hazy, goes useless. Cold sweat bubbles up out of your pores. “What? At home.”

“No you weren’t.” His eyes are on you like a wolf’s, like a beast’s. “I called the house. A couple times, actually. I felt weird about how we left things and wanted to apologize. But no one answered.”

“Oh, sorry, I mean I was at home, but then I went to go bowling with my parents.”

“No you didn’t.” Trent’s cue stick hits the striped red ball, number 11, and sends it hurtling into a pocket. “I already asked Dale. He’s in the bowling league, and he said you weren’t there.”

Two lies. And I don’t have a third. You stand there helplessly, surrounded by Christmas lights and tinsel and pine trees, your thoughts churning slowly, slower, dragging to a full stop. The chatter around you dies down. Wide eyes dart between you and Trent. Joyce closes her book. Even Dale is peeking over from the bar. His face is crisscrossed with lines of disapproval, of fascination.

“Where were you, huh?” Trent takes a step closer. He’s huge. He’s so fucking huge. Aegon picks up the black 8 ball off the pool table; no one else notices but you.

“Trent,” Heather scolds her brother, stunned. “Take a chill pill—”

“Where were you?!” Trent demands.

You try to conjure up an excuse, any excuse. All you can think of is how badly you don’t want to end up at the bottom of an ice-covered lake. I can’t die, I haven’t done anything yet. I haven’t been anywhere yet. I haven’t seen San Diego.

Trent begins one final time, still clutching the cue stick, his voice deafening: “Where were—?!”

“She was with me!” Kimmie bursts out, and everyone spins towards her. “I, um, I was upset. Devastated, in fact. Because of, um. Boy problems.”

Heather titters nervously. “What else is new.”

“So I called and I was an absolute blubbering mess on the phone and she offered to come over and hang out. Watch Buffy with me. Do my nails and stuff. It’s really embarrassing.” She smiles at you, a soft glowing smile. “Thanks for trying to keep my secret.”

“No problem, Kimmie,” you reply shakily.

“Oh, babe!” Trent says, his face splitting into a smile, pressing a hand into the small of your back. He even flips his hair in that simpleminded, horselike way. He can’t be the Ice Fisher. He can’t be…right? You flinch when he touches you. On the periphery of your vision, you can see Aegon rolling the black 8 ball back onto the pool table. “That’s all?! You should have told me!”

“It really wasn’t my situation to share.”

“Damn, I’m sorry.” Trent seems to mean it. “I’m really sorry. That was a dick move, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Hulk smash?” Rob says, and there is laughter, quivering with fresh relief.

“I think I have to go,” you say, rubbing your forehead. “I’m really not feeling great.” And that part’s not even a lie. “I shouldn’t have mixed Bacardi Breezers and appletinis, I’m a total lightweight. And I have work in the morning. I’m supposed to vaccinate like ten of Mr. Campbell’s reindeer.”

“You want me to drive you home?” Trent offers.

No! Definitely not! “Thanks, but I couldn’t bear to interrupt your pool game. Especially when you’re winning.” You can tell Aegon is looking at you. You intentionally don’t acknowledge him. And now you realize that you’re a little trapped: you can’t say you’re driving yourself home because you’re not sober, and you can’t say that Aegon is walking you back to his apartment because then Trent might murder you both right here in the middle of Ursa Minor, blood splattering the deer heads mounted on the wall, femurs and vertebrae littering the pool table.

“I’ll do it!” Heather volunteers. “I’m super not-wasted at the moment.”

“Um, well…”

“Come on.” She’s already going to get your parka off the coatrack. “I can’t in good conscience let you vaccinate those reindeer without a full night’s sleep.” You trail after her, powerless to refuse.

Out in the night-draped parking lot, you haul yourself—with some difficulty—into Heather’s Chevy Suburban. And as she turns the key in the ignition and begins defrosting the windshield, you tell her: “When you leave the lot, make a left, not a right.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re not taking me home. You’re taking me to Aegon’s apartment.”

“I’m…?” She gapes at you as it sinks in like an anchor through dark surf. “Oh my god. Oh my god…?!”

“Affirmative.”

“Oh. My. GOD.” She puts the Suburban in drive and, as requested, makes a left onto Main Street.

Sunfyre is delighted to see you when you arrive. He leaps, barks, pirouettes in circles, accepts copious scratches and Milk-Bone treats. You collapse onto the threadbare couch, and he stretches out on the floor beside you, his quiet snoring soon the only sound in the apartment. Your eyes blur, flutter, close up shop. Maybe twenty minutes later, you hear a key rattling in the front door.

Aegon walks inside, his boots dripping with snow. He doesn’t seem surprised to see you. “You alright, Appletini?”

“Yeah, I’m kind of woozy but I mostly just wanted to leave.” You consider him, wondering how to ask him the question that won’t leave your mind. It claws at the arched walls of your skull like a trapped animal, leaving streaks of blood where its nails were torn away.

“I don’t want to talk about the vitamin thing,” he says.

“I don’t want to talk about Trent.”

“Deal.”

He throws off his parka and boots, turns on the X-Files, and crawls onto the couch with you. You fold into him and he holds you, not hungrily, not asking for a thing. You freefall into sleep with your head against his chest, his heartbeat a distant roar like thunder.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Ice Fisher has left Juneau a Christmas present: Stephanie Nolan, his fifth victim. She was twenty-five years old, an avid knitter, a Blockbuster employee, mother of several adopted Himalayan cats, one of three sisters born barely a year apart. At least her parents still have some children left, you think. At least the pressure to make their sacrifices worthwhile wasn’t all on her. Your dad sneaks a few minutes of news coverage while your mom is in the shower. They’re replaying the press conference that Chief of Police Eugene Baker gave late last night on Christmas Eve.

“We urge all Juneau residents to remain vigilant. This is the time of year for celebrations and get-togethers, and we don’t want to discourage that in any way, but no one—and I repeat, no one—should be outside alone, especially not after dark. Ms. Nolan left her place of employment to take a ten-minute smoke break, and that was all the opportunity the killer needed. He is still out there, he is still dangerous, and no one is immune from becoming a target. If you have any information relevant to this case, anything at all, please call our anonymous 24/7 hotline at…”

There are camera flashes, uneasy clamoring, flailing hands of reporters begging to be called on. Your dad crosses his arms over his broad chest, his face grim. A reporter asks Chief Baker: “I understand that the Juneau PD has brought in FBI profilers to help them identify possible suspects. Can you share any new theories with the public at this time?”

“Well, there are a couple likely possibilities. The Ice Fisher might be someone who is new to the area, someone who arrived this past summer or early autumn. Residents should therefore be extremely wary of newcomers. However, it might be the case that the killer isn’t new to the area at all, but rather suffered some sort of destabilizing event—loss of employment, for example, or the death of a loved one—that triggered their otherwise dormant violent impulses. The last theory I’m prepared to share today is that the criminal now known as the Ice Fisher might have been active long before this recent string of murders. Some serial killers have been known to…to test the waters, so to speak…with murders that can be camouflaged as accidental or natural deaths. That’s a possibility in this case, and we are combing back through the department archives to see if there are any answers there…”

“I should go pick up Aegon,” you say.

“Ladybug…” Your dad stalls, not wanting you to take it the wrong way. “I’m not saying that I think Aegon is the killer, because I don’t think he is. I know he’s not, actually. He doesn’t have much rage in him. He has a lot of other things, I believe, but not that. I’m just saying…you have to be careful. And he can’t keep an eye out for you if he’s passed out drunk somewhere. Do you get what I mean?”

“I understand, Dad. I’m careful. Really, I am. And I’m never running around town alone. If I’m not with Aegon, I’m with Heather or Kimmie or Joyce.”

“Or Trent,” he adds. He likes this idea; Trent might not be able to snap a murderer in two like a KitKat bar, but he could definitely crack a few ribs. Trent would be a great Mortal Kombat character. He could skewer foes with a cue stick, right through the eye socket. An icy shudder rocks down your spine.

“Or Trent.”

“Okay. Good.” He turns back to the tv, his eyes vacant, his voice low. “Just making sure.”

Aegon is dressed in his Christmas best: dark jeans, black Converses, his hair loose and wavy, a festive red sweater with Gizmo from Gremlins on it. You’ve opted for a more traditional Rudolph turtleneck. Sunfyre has a large red bow tied to his collar. The three of you ride together back to your parents’ house, the radio playing Celine Dion’s O Holy Night, one of the back windows rolled halfway down for Sunfyre.

Dinner is a reindeer roast, rosemary apple stuffing, potato gratin, homemade macaroni and cheese, and creamed spinach; dessert is Christmas cookies eaten under the tree. You open presents as a parade of classics play on the tv: Frosty The Snowman, How The Grinch Stole Christmas, The Year Without A Santa Claus. Your parents give Aegon cold-weather clothing like hats and mittens, which he accepts with great appreciation. He gives them a bouquet of blue roses and three bottles of red wine, only one of which he drinks himself. You give Aegon a refrigerator magnet from Caribou Crossings, a grizzly bear with a salmon caught between its teeth, something to join the rest of his collection, something to help him remember Juneau once he’s gone. He gives you a handful of seashells from San Diego that he’s been carting around in his luggage for a year. Everyone gives Sunfyre Milk-Bones.

When Aegon takes the golden retriever out to the backyard, your dad goes with them. You can see them talking out there as snow falls and the sun sets and the horizon is inked with violet and gold, the wind whipping fiercely: Aegon’s hands moving in wild, dramatic gestures, your dad nodding along. They’re gone for so long you start to worry, your fingers trembling as you and your mom play chess with the new set you received for Christmas, not black and white but pet-themed: one side dogs, the other cats.

Your dad comes back inside first. He shuts the door and says to you, not accusatory but merely intrigued: “I didn’t know you were serious about wanting to travel, ladybug.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so. One day. When I’m retired, I guess. Doesn’t everyone want to travel?”

“Huh. Aegon made it sound a bit more urgent than that.”

He watches you defeat your mom in chess, makes her some mollifying Earl Grey tea, and then offers to play Scrabble with her, a proposition she can never resist. When Aegon brings Sunfyre back inside—the sky fully dark now, the stars rising behind the veil of clouds—you lead him upstairs to your room. You sit on your bed together and flip through your travel magazines, scenes of Paris, Cairo, New York City, Rome, Tokyo, Cape Town, Buenos Aires, Beijing, Saint Petersburg, Sydney, Las Vegas, Cusco, Athens, Mexico City, Nairobi, California.

“It’s strange,” Aegon says. “Your parents like me, but they also kind of don’t like me. It’s as if they’re afraid of me. I can’t figure them out.”

You think of the cardboard box under your bed, the one full of Jesse’s journals. “My mom was married before. Vince is her second husband.”

Aegon looks over at you, attentive but not understanding. “Okay.”

“I was five years old when they got together. So Vince is my dad, but he’s not…like…he’s not biologically…well, you get what I’m saying.”

Aegon closes the magazine he’d been skimming, still looking at you.

“My mom’s first husband was named Jesse. And he was…from what I understand…he was a lot like you.” You tap your index finger against the crook of your own elbow so Aegon will understand. He was brilliant, but he was an addict. He was a blessing, he was a curse.

Aegon nods slowly. “I guess that explains a lot.”

“I probably should have told you sooner. But I’ve never really told anyone.”

“What happened to him?”

“He drowned in the channel. Maybe it was an accident, maybe suicide. Maybe it doesn’t matter which one. Maybe there isn’t much of a difference.”

“I’m so sorry,” Aegon says, his voice quiet and gentle.

“I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”

“It won’t. I told you. I’m not that easy to kill.”

You wonder if Aegon has become a ghost to his family, if he haunts the Targaryens like Jesse haunts you, half-comforting, half-heartbreaking, if after six long silent years his shadow still lurks in corners and doorways. You wonder if a ghost is really so far from what you are. “I want to stop feeling like a potential person, to stop waiting for the life I’ve always dreamed of to drop out of the sky. I want to feel real.”

“You’re real to me.” He dusts his thumbprint across the curve of your cheekbone, flesh and blood that sing to each other. “Listen, we’ll go to San Diego together.”

“Don’t, Aegon.”

“No, I mean it,” he says. “Give me a month to save up, and we’ll go. We’ll take a long weekend and fly down there. It won’t be hot enough to swim, but it’ll be warmer than here. Sixties, sunny, sandy, waves and tacos. We’ll stay somewhere with a waterbed. Those can be a lot of fun.”

“Careful. I might not want to leave the hotel room. What a waste of a trip that would be.”

“I’ll just have to make sure you’re bored of me by then,” he purrs, grinning and mischievous, dragging you into his lap. He smooths your hair back from your face, gazing up at you as you straddle him. He kisses your lips, your jaw, your neck; his teeth skate across your skin without biting down, without leaving indigo bruises of ownership. Slowly, he turns solemn and hushed. Slowly, you begin to worry about him.

“What, Aegon?”

“You’re the best present I ever got. I hope you know that.”

You whisper through his windswept white-blond hair: “Then open me.”

He lays you down on the bed, unearths your needful bare skin and stifles his moans against your throat, unravels you like a blood-red ribbon from a box heavy with secrets.

[lilith-vodkaaunt-of-demons]

So I've been listening to a lot of music from my childhood recently, and that inevitably lead me to listening to The Pillows, a great Japanese Alt Rock Band that was pretty big in the late 90s, early 2000s (iirc.) They produced most of, if not the entire OST of cult classic anime FOOLY COOLY or FLCL.

FLCL is, in my opinion, an anime everyone should watch at least once, and imo it's a very good litmus test for whether or not a person has any kind of media literacy and is able to pick out themes and stuff.

I say all this as basically the long way of saying I listened to a song I really liked when I was younger that was also part of the OST of an Anime I really liked when I was younger and so I watched it all over again today, and now I'm gonna make it your problem.

So anyone with any kind of media literacy can tell you that the major theme of FLCL is growing up, and anyone with decent media literacy can tell you that on the flipside the actual theme of FLCL is "The most immature thing you can do is grow up too fast." With a secondary theme being "Adults will use maturity to manipulate you."

But what if I told you there's a secret, third theme, and it actually changes who the main character of the show is, and it's stated in the opening scene of the first episode, with the REAL main character?

So the show opens on Naota and Samemija Mamimi, immediately establishing Naota and Mamimi's very codependent relationship, with Naota using Mamimi to feel more mature than he actually is, and Mamimi using Naota as a rebound and stand in for his older brother Tasuku, who moved to America to pursue a career in Baseball, which has burned both Naota and Mamimi in different ways.

This is also the establishing shot for the actual theme of the show. In a voice over, Naota explains that nothing amazing ever happens in the town of Mabase, directly after Mamimi explains to him that if she were ever to "Overflow" something amazing would probably happen.

Naota's claims of nothing amazing ever happening in Mabase are, of course, undercut by the antics of the entirety of FLCL, but, as an itty bitty Egg living in a small, nowhere town in Kansas USA, and even later, as a Trans Woman, in a different, but still very much the same Small, Nowhere Town in Kansas USA, the specific type of Ennui Naota feels is well known to those who live in Small, Nowhere towns across the globe.

It's the kind of apathy that lives and thrives in small communities that revile change. It is, in its truest form, Stagnation, and it is what FLCL is really about. Stagnation is the Enemy of Maturity. And that is why Mamimi is the true protagonist of FLCL.

Mamimi has the most to gain from holding onto the past, the most to gain from nothing ever changing. And she fights against it with all her strength, to the point that she'd rather die (or have the world destroyed) than have them change. When Naota manages to "Swing The Bat" and stop the bomb heading for Mabase, she's disappointed, showing that she's tired of the life she's got, but not so much yet that she's willing to take her life herself.

Mamimi yearns for Stagnation. Yearns for the past, when things were better. We never see what Mamimi's home life is like, to the point that there is no credible evidence as to whether or not she's homeless. What we do know is that she's incredibly poor, bullied, and alone, and for at least some of that, it didn't used to be that way. She used to have Tasuku, or Ta-kun, she used to not be bullied, she may have even had a good relationship with her parents, or a home to go to.

But things keep changing. Tasuku left, people look down on her, Naota is maturing, meanwhile she's stuck in the past, and is fighting to stay there...until she can't anymore. Naota is no longer satisfied with being a stand-in for his older brother, she's going to need a job to support herself, and Tasuku isn't coming back.

Through out all of this, there is a theme of Mamimi taking pictures, hinting that even she, in fact, has dreams of the future. Which does culminate in the ending, of Mamimi leaving Mabase to become a Photographer, her picture of Naota holding Haruko's Rickenbacker 4001 is even seen in the magazine the anime is named after, Fooly Coolly.

Mamimi is the secret protagonist of FLCL because she embodies the secret theme of the show, that Stagnation, never growing beyond the fence posts of your backyard, is truly the enemy of Maturity. Throughout the show, all the children spend their time trying to be more mature than they are, while Mamimi is seen as having never matured despite actually, secretly, being more mature than all of them, but wishing she didn't have to be. Throughout the show, she is abandoned, belittled, and bullied, and it isn't until the very end of the show that she breaks, feeding the technology of all the people who wronged her to Core Ta-kun. Even trying to stop Core Ta-kun from eating the truck of the Friend Trio because they didn't do anything to her. Then she escapes. She breaks the confines of Mabase, and goes on to become a Photographer. Was she successful? Was she happy? We'll likely never know, but that doesn't matter. All that matters is she broke free.

[hermit-searching]

TMNTposting Raphael edition (Part 1):

I have a confession to make. I've been lying to you all...my fave......is actually Raphael 😂

When I was growing up watching TMNT Donatello was always my favorite turtle, mostly because I was kin assigned the smart, purple turtle when we did those playground roleplay things elementary school kids did in the early 2000s. But during my journey rewatching TMNT 87, and 03 I've grown so SO attached to Raphael it's silly.

This guy. This dude. He's probably one of the most misunderstood characters in universe (and kind of in fanon as well) besides Leonardo. Raphael, no matter which animated iteration, gets himself into trouble because of his terrible impulse control (Woah me fr), which is linked to his "anger issues" which admittedly he does kind of have, but there's so much more to unpack there than just "oh he angy".

Well, except 87 Raphael but he's special and I'll get to him later.

03 Raph definitely has the most obvious actual blind rage. Fourth episode into the entire series he goes into a blind rage and tries attacking Mikey with a metal table leg when he loses a sparring match against his orange younger brother. Except...he kinda actually doesn't. Yeah he gets mad, for sure he got really mad, but something to note about it is he actually goes into a dissociative state before he attacks Mikey, he immediately apologizes when he's lucid again, and he runs off to cool his head which leads to him meeting Casey and teaching the same lessons Splinter has told him to Casey Jones. (Honestly the besties ever. good for them). And the reason Raph gets so angry? It's not just that Mikey beats him, Mikey eggs him on the entire time. Like I mentioned in my Mikey post, 03 Mikey is an instigator, he's constantly pushing all of his brothers buttons because he thinks it's funny. He does it on purpose so he knows what's coming for him, when his brothers (usually Raph) finally snap. That's not to say that Raph should have beaten his brother with a table leg at all, because he still spends his time learning his lesson through trying to reign in Casey, but his anger was a little more, in lack of better terms, justified than some of the other Raph-Mikey blowouts we've seen (cough12cough).

03 Raph is actually just such a polite, sweet little guy. He has a heart of gold, and tries so hard to protect him family, even until his last breath. He'll help blind old ladies, he gives old clothes and blankets to the homeless, heck his instinct when he's in his last moments in Same as It Never Was was to crawl over to Leo in an attempt to protect his big brother.

This guy's biggest fear is being the one behind the Shredder mask, and hurting his family. Literally, he fears himself, and his anger. He's so, so much more than the family hot-head.

I love this guy so much. It's great watching him develop as a character and cope with his anger without having to dig into the same lesson all the time of "oooh Raph you're angry. Anger is bad Raphael. That's a no no Raphael."

Which is what bothers me so much about 2012 Raph. They spend so much time making a joke about his anger issues it's baffling it was a choice the writers made. Oh to be a fly on the wall when they made all the questionable writing choices in 2012. Like, you'll have moments where Splinter will straight up tell his son "you remind me of my evil not-brother who was the reason my wife died lolololol", and you'll have other moments where they're like "oh aha he ran away and quit the team for the 27th time. Silly Raphael." and I genuinely do not understand why they treat him like this? 2012 Raph, fundamentally, is still the same as other Raphael's. He's got the anger issues, he uses sais, he wears red, but the way they present his anger is just. Weird. They'll have him punch or swat at his brothers just for existing, and not acknowledge it at all, visual gags or whatever. And then they'll also go "ooga booga he's so bad and his anger is bad", and then force him to learn the "anger bad" lesson for the nth time....only to wipe it from his character development again.

Once again, this kid has a heart of gold. He's the turtle equivalent of a Disney Princess. He took care of a pet turtle for, presumably years. He cared for Spike a lot! And...then they just rip that away from him to create a new villain who tries to eliminate his brothers because he used to vent to his pet (being the one way Splinter told him was "healthy" with dealing with his anger). Which? Okay way to punish him for trying to deal with his anger in a way that wasn't beating the snot out of something. (also what the actual fuck was that 180 they did having Slash go "I've always admired you Leonardo"???? HUH???)

But...then you have Chompy. Arguably the only thing they have ever given 2012 Raph without violently ripping it away for laughs, or to teach him some kind of lesson. He does give Chompy back to Tokka for a moment but she gives him back realizing they're both super attached to each other and stuff. Having the moment of Raph admitting he cares about Chompy was so perfect because it finally had a moment where he felt like Raphael.

other beautiful moments from 2012 Raph:

-literally just barn arc.

-"angry Donnie you're so silly and funny and- oh wait Donnie stop-"

-when he gets smacked with a brick by 87 Raphael (sorry I still play favs)

Ok back to more lighthearted Raphposting.

Rise Raph is actually such a fun take on the character. It's so interesting to see him being put into the role usually reserved for Leonardo, being the oldest and being the leader. At first he seems pretty well put together, and different than the other Raphael but. Nope! He still rushes into danger like a kid at a busy intersection during rush hour. The difference being, he learns to reign in his impulse control ever so slightly because he's brothers are all arguably more unhinged than he is. Especially Donnie and Mikey.

His temper in Rise seems to take somewhat of an inspiration from 03, having him dissociate into a rage, though the tone of it is vastly different than 03. Which, I think is fine because Rise always had a lighter tone than 03, and 12. The intention of it is a lot different than turning 12 Ralph's issues into a silly haha, and throughout the series we see how the pressure of being the oldest weighs upon the guy, changing the tone of his issues as the series progressed.

The season finale four parter was genuinely good for Raph's character arc all things considered. Him finally cracking under the pressure only to learn his family will be there for him the way he's always been there for him is beautiful. Him being the one who sees Splinter's memories with his mom? Amazing. And the messed up thing? He sees protecting his family as his duty and purpose despite being a kid himself. Kinda like 03 Raph.

The movie also finally gave us that Leo-Raph dynamic older TMNT fans have craved from the series, but the roles are still reversed. With Raph still being responsible and wanting Leo to take things seriously while Leo does whatever he wants and has ✨impulsive sparkle✨. Getting to see Raph finally let loose and be a normal teenager again, joining in on the silly fun by the end of the movie..Mwah. thank you.

This post is getting long so I'll go into 87 Raphael in his own post. I have way too much to say about him I'm sorry..

[weirdstuffinthewoods]

The inevitable what if...?

Freddy vs Jason (2003)

Horror fans constantly seem divided on what constitutes "real" horror, or even "good" horror.

The issue with gatekeeping the genre is that you start to get bored with the offerings that fit the qualifications. Original IPs are best rewarded only if they're frightening enough to satisfy lovers of jump scares and dread alike. Franchises are begrudgingly watched for ever-lengthening amounts of time, and attempts at reboots are either met with rightful scorn (the moneygrabs) or badly received because fans are still clinging to the original too hard to make room for the new (think Candyman 2021). Between the two options, restricting what constitutes as worthy horror can leave you in a stale place.

All this to say- I watched Freddy v Jason tonight and it continues to be one of my Ol' Faithfuls. While not necessarily frightening, balls-to-the-wall movies like Freddy v Jason, Deathgasm, House on Haunted Hill (1999), or the Hong Kong fever dream that is Rigor Mortis offer something that truly frightening films sometimes can't- fun.

Sometimes intentionally and sometimes not, horror and comedy have always gone well together. You see it as far back as films like The Old Dark House (1932) and at Halloween haunts worldwide every year. A scare actor gets a scream out of you and you run off, laughing. The tension of a film builds and builds and is finally cut by comedic relief. Horror and comedy make the perfect group watches- the acting is usually mediocre, and someone's always going to have a questionable costume or hair and makeup choice (lookin' at you, knockoff Jason Mewes and frosted-tips cop). There's plenty to laugh at but also plenty to make you go

The film is directed by Ronny Yu, a director who also breathed life back into the Child's Play franchise with Bride of Chucky, another one of my favorites. In Fangoria 221, Yu notes that for Bride he was asked if he'd seen the original films. When he answered in the negative, he was told "No worries-you can catch up later or just forget it and start fresh." Using a similar philosophy here (as he was not familiar with either franchise before pairing the two in a match made in hell), Yu managed to keep the lore as consistent as it's ever been (not very) and also give us a horror milestone that manages to be really, really fun.

Still not convinced? Here's a short list of reasons:

The 2000s-era over saturation!

This movie focuses on BLUE as their color of choice- movies like Cabin Fever or House on Haunted Hill were very focused on RED. If you want to forget what colors the real world is, movies from this decade are for you!

The stupid one-liners!

(and casting easter eggs like Kelly Rowland here and Ginger Snaps icon in the lesser but still memorable role of "Gibb")

Joint-smokin' Freddy caterpillar (in super dated cgi, but who cares?)

The entire cornfield rave!

Who throws raves in a cornfield? Is that a thing in the midwest? Who cares? It's a great place to hide Jason's bulk and watch some obnoxious jocks get gutted.

It's like watching a wrestling match between two legends. Both Freddy and Jason have built their respective (if questionable quality) franchises that both began with iconic films that shaped the slasher genre. The pair are polar opposites in every way- Freddy a quick-witted, small, overly talkative set of brains with some knife fingers, and Jason a hulking, silent mass with both his strength and his machete on hand at all times.

The kills are still fun and the blend of practical and cgi effects don't feel totally cheap just yet, but the real payoff is the finale that pits the two legends head to head in an over-the-top, totally rock-n-roll finale. While you can and do root for both of them, the surprisingly sympathetic lens put on Jason adds a layer of connection you usually don't get with the silent behemoth, making it an impossible to call fight. I can hear the theaters full of screaming fans now.

I'm just saying- Horror, if no other genre, is a place for experimentation, especially with its long-running penchant for low budgets. Where else are you going to see crossover fights outside of fanfiction?

When given the choice, definitely champion an original idea (don't want to encourage those big budget studios too much), but if you're having a Halloween rager, why not throw on a bloody good time like this one?

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (October 29-November 4, 2023)

Like me, you probably haven't seen Godzilla Minus One yet, making Fest Godzilla 4: Operation Jet Jaguar last week's most spectacular new watch. Kazuhiro Nakagawa's ambitions grow with each entry in this series; this time, he was helped by veteran Rider/Sentai suit actor Kenya Saito inside the great new Jet Jaguar suit. The ending wasn't quite what I predicted, but still set up what should be a spectacular showdown last year.

I wish these shorts weren't effectively the last vestiges of tokusatsu in the Godzilla series; I wish even more that Toho would allow them to stay on YouTube. This one, along with its associated behind-the-scenes videos, will stay around until the end of the year, as an apology for the Godzilla Day VOD having such awful audio as to be unsalvageable. But that still means its discoverability will take a serious hit, and it's unclear what Toho actually gets out of this artificial scarcity. Maybe they're plotting to release all the shorts on Blu-ray in a few years. In any case, download this one post-haste.

While he didn't get a new suit, Megalon still made a triumphant return in the other short film released on Godzilla Day, Godzilla vs. Megalon. A sequel to Godzilla vs. Gigan Rex, it's also directed by Takuya Uenishi. The live-action footage in this one helps ground the over-the-top monster mayhem, and a weakened Godzilla displays some cool new tricks, although I found his finisher unsatisfying. As for Megalon, well, he finally shows the world just how terrifying he can be when he takes himself more seriously.

After a mercifully brief marketing campaign, the 37th Godzilla movie, Godzilla Minus One, is in Japanese theaters (and it's making bank). I'm trying to go in relatively unspoiled (always difficult as a Wikizilla admin), but what little I have read has been promising. The basic premise, which the early promos have largely masked, sounds like a kaiju story I wrote in college, which I couldn't be more thrilled by. If you're feeling daring, there's a second trailer out.

We'll get the first episodes of Monarch: Legacy of Monsters even sooner than Godzilla Minus One. Accordingly, Apple has ramped up promotion, releasing a behind-the-scenes video (above), the opening title sequence, and the first scene of the series. We also have names for a couple of the new monsters (the new Skull Island beastie is a Mantleclaw and the critters hatching from eggs are Endoswarmers) and better looks at a couple others.

I joked after the Godzilla Day livestream that it was such a technical fiasco because Toho had put all its skill points into releasing Godzilla Minus One. Similar could be said for the Fathom Events release of Godzilla 2000: Millennium. The showing I caught was fine technically (one brief frame rate hiccup aside), just... uninspired. The preshow was the same brief behind-the-scenes footage of G2K included on the American DVD and Blu-ray; the film used the same translation as the Blu-ray. And now that the novelty of actually being able to watch it has worn off, I've soured considerably on the Japanese version of this movie. The languid score and sound design are especially glaring in a theater.

Godzilla Voxel Wars, available on Steam and Epic Games, probably should have been released in a week less packed with more attention-grabbing Godzilla news. Still zero reviews on Metacritic! Haven't played it myself, but fellow Wikizilla admin Les is enjoying it.

Godzilla: Here There Be Dragons #5 also added to the Godzilla onslaught. Still impressed at how big a role the Giant Octopus had in this (and what a brutal ending for it and Ebirah), but the miniseries wrapped up a little too neatly.

Despite backing it on Kickstarter, I had nearly forgotten about Godzilla & Kong: The Cinematic Storyboard Art of Richard Bennett. Turns out the reason the book has taken so long to be published (the campaign ended last May) is the page count jumping from "around 200" to 424! It's off to the printer now, so the wait is nearly over.

Worth posting again: the third BOSS Coffee ad featuring the new ShodaiGoji suit. Very little original footage in this one, but some first-class editing.

And a few other happenings I'll keep to bullet points so you can finally stop scrolling:

I forgot to post about Viz publishing volume 7 of Asadora! Huge props for introducing a kyodai hero without derailing the story (I won't say how, but it's quite clever).

After its brief Japanese theatrical run, the black-and-white version of Shin Godzilla is "under consideration for further development." Home video next?

The newest Godzilla Battle Line units are Super Mechagodzilla and a second version of Godzilla '54 who strafes his atomic breath and ignores most status effects. I've had virtually no time to play since the new season started (this post was typed entirely in a Georgia hotel room, put it that way), but I hear they're both stellar.

Godzilla trading card update: disappointment and confusion! The Godzilla Minus One promo cards were only available for a very limited time as add-ons to a $75+ TCGPlayer order. Meanwhile, nobody can find the packs of Surreal Entertainment cards that were supposed to arrive at Five Below on Godzilla Day.

Naturally, lots of toys revealed on and around Godzilla Day. Highlights include a Super7 Godzilla figure with an Imperial-inspired paint job, a Super7 SpaceGodzilla repaint blatantly based on Super Godzilla which sold out instantly, an S.H. MonsterArts Jet Jaguar '73, and Movie Monster Series figures for *inhales* Godzilla '55, Anguirus '55, Flying Stage Hedorah, Godzilla '64, and Minilla '67. The Godzilla Raids Again figures are both getting variants inspired by a Toy Dreams set from 2006. Bandai also started up another Movie Monster Series fans-pick-the-figure poll, but what's the point? They'll have every single Godzilla kaiju represented before the decade's half over. (And maybe by the end of the decade I'll be able to afford all the ones I want!)

[tyranasauruslex]

do you think rome has ever made a mixtape songs for lukas when he gets bored?

Roman takings tips from those early 2000's Cosmo "How To Impress Your Man" lists. I actually see Lukas as the mixtape guru - he'd make Roman his own Spotify playlist.

Bored Roman would wander around the house and send Lukas multiple voice notes about the stuff he finds:

"What's this green stuff in your fridge? It looks gross. Eww... it tastes like grass. Why are you eating grass? There's nothing normal in your fridge by the way... even your bread is weird. What is Limpa? Ohh ok that actually tastes nice... Eww pickled fish. Your country is weird. I ate all your bread by the way."

"Your mom called so I told her you abandoned me to work... she's gonna send me baby Lukas pictures via email. I might put them on insta... I haven't decided yet... Oh my god you look like a baby giant... Your poor mom having to shove you out of her vagina. Ok you're actually kind of cute for a baby giant with your little knitted hat on... Aww baby Lukas at the zoo... ha, that giraffe must be related to you. All my baby pictures are with the nanny... or with Shiv looking like a bald egg. Thats depressing."

"We should go to that new Italian on the upper East side... I called and they said they'd do plain pasta for you... only if you want to though. You probably have boring work stuff to do or Tom will want to take you to show off. I can just go with Shiv and listen to her complain about how the baby ripped apart her vagina for the millionth time. Having a baby sounds gross but at least Lilly is cute... and small, not a baby giant like you were. I'll just take Lilly to the Italian. Babies can eat pasta, right?"

"Just so you know I've taken one of your sweaters cus I can't work out the heating system. Why are your arms so long? Like, how to you even operate them? Ohh this kinda cosy... you'll have to buy another one because I'm keeping this one. I'm in your closet by the way and it's giving serial killer. Nobody is that organised. Or neat. I bet if you decided to murder me this is where you'd hide my body. Or you'd stitch me up inside a bear carcass. Ohh cool... you have the shirt I wore when I first stayed over. You're such a dork. But in, like, a cool way and FUCK! Don't worry I'm not dead, I just tripped over one of your massive shoes. Is that how you came to the US? Via shoe-boat? You know, cus your Mister Viking and stuff... Ok, so I have a question... Are your stupidly big feet an indication of how big other stuff is? Cus it kind of feels that way when you cuddle me but... actually forget I asked that. I'm just gonna delete this..."

"You're asleep when I'm sending you this but I think you need to know how much you look like a dead body when you sleep. Here... I'm sending you photographic evidence... Why don't you make any noise? Like at all? You keep telling me I say a bunch of random shit in my sleep and... oh you moved. I'm gonna whisper from now on... Wait, what if you're actually dead? I'd get the blame and end up in fucking prison being molested by the guards. I can't go to prison so I'd have to dismember you in the bathroom or something. Also thank you for not being mean about the whole dick to shoe ratio... and for the drawing. Cus you know i've never really... well, anyway it makes it less scary even if you can't draw for shit. I'm just going to pet your hair for a bit cus I know you like that... Oh fuck I woke you up!"

[superwavesmasher]

Hurt Arm Original

This is the first hurt arm fic I wrote and the first ronin warrior fic I wrote after a 10-12 year hiatus. So I was running off the original early 2000s characterizations of everyone (mainly Sage).

Still it's cute. No couples.

Also kind of rag on Ryo a bit... :/

Ryo heads up the stairs that night to go to bed. Everyone was exhausted again and weren’t very talkative over dinner. Cye had cooked a good meal much to the others despair and begging him not to, he looked like he was going to collapse through out the meal but had stayed conscious then fell asleep on the couch soon after dinner.

He had curled up between Kento and Rowen and didn’t budge until they tried to wake him for bed. When he didn’t respond, Kento just carried the youngest warrior up the stairs and that was the last he’d heard anything from them.

He looks up seeing Sage come out of the bathroom, his eyes narrowed as he watched the blonde massage his hand gingerly then stops when he sees Ryo. “Sage? You uh ok?”

“I’m fine, Ryo.” The other says trying not to sound annoyed. “After I check the others, I’m going to bed. They’ll be out soon as well.”

“Did Cye ever wake up?”

“From what I saw before coming in here, no. He’s still passed out. It’s okay, he’s just tired. He was barely on his feet from the previous battle, so it stands to reason he’s hit his limit. We all have.”

“What’s wrong with your hand? Did you hurt it in battle? Do you need someone to look at it?” He steps forward worried.

“It’s fine, Ryo.” The blonde sighs heavily before shaking his head, I’m sorry. I’m just tired, I didn’t mean to snap.”

“Look, let everyone rest. We’ll be ok in the morning.”

“Ok..” Ryo looks down nervously. “Sage… did I do something that got you guys miffed at me?”

“Sage?! We need you in here. Cye says he can’t move his arm without a lot pain.” Kento calls scared.

Halo shakes his head not answering him before he hurries down the hallway. He stops in the door then turns when he hears Wildfire behind him. His eyes widen as he sees Cye hunched over trying not to cry out in pain, a few tears had escaped already. Kento and Rowen were hovering worried.

He then turns back to Ryo, “If you’re going to be depressed and upset that we’re hurt then I need you to leave. I can’t heal the others, especially Cye, if he’s worried about you being upset.”

“S-Sage I-I..” Ryo looks past him to see Rowen and Kento moving slowly as well. They were both staying off opposite knees. “Sage what happened!?”

Rowen looks up, “The battle, Ryo. Sarenbo was trying to break apart the White Armor, right?” He sighs sadly wishing he could take the pain from Cye as the youngest buried his face into his shoulder. He could only rub his back. “…each of us are a part of the armor… Cye’s arm is one part.. Kento and my knees… Sage’s hand… we’re just sore and apparently some of us are in pain more than others.”

“…The White Armor did this…?”

“Man, don’t start that.” Kento suddenly says frustrated. “If you’re going to do that then just leave.”

“…K-Kento l-leave him…nngh a-alone.” Came the frustrated moan from Rowen’s side.

“No, Cye. I can’t. It’s stressin’ you out.. you keep trying to pretend you’re normal and ok but you’re not. You’re exhausted and barely on your feet .. and yet you made dinner and nearly fainted. We’re all walking on egg shells because we don’t want to worry Ryo.. but we’re hurt this time and we need to recover. You won’t recover if you’re trying so hard to hide it.” Hardrock heaved angrily. I’m sorry, dude… but this is what battles do and this new armor takes all of us. We’re not going to be okay all the time… a-and that’s okay. But stop putting the pressure on us to be ok. You need to work through this.”

“KENTO.” Cye half shouted as he tried to hold in another cry of pain. He sat up cradling his left arm against his chest. “P-Please.. I just want everyone to stop fighting. I’m sorry Ryo, I’m ok.”

“You’re not okay! You can’t move your arm.”

“A-And your knee hurts, what’s the difference?”

“I can stand on my knee, Cye. You literally can’t move your arm but instead of getting it looked at, you told me you’d wait because you didn’t want to bother Ryo. So, you cooked using it anyway, set the table against us pleading for you to let us help and then washed the dishes, once again not letting us help.” Kento turns and kneels down reaching out to try and gently touch the hurt arm but his hands only hovering afraid to get too close and cause him more pain. “I-I just don’t like seeing you in pain.”

The youngest looked down at his best friend sighing before he smiles as best he can. “I just need rest.”

“Then please rest. I can protect you from the Dynasty, but I can’t protect you from this.”

Rowen looks up to Sage before sighing, “Look. Let Sage come over and check Cye’s arm out, ok? You two go downstairs and maybe make some tea and a snack for him, alright? If he’s able to we’ll be downstairs to join and if not, you can bring it up to him. Sound good?”

Kento looked like he was about to complain but his gaze dropped to his best friend. His shoulders dropped and he nods getting up. Every time Cye was hurt he looked so small and so vulnerable, it killed him inside to have to see that and not be able to fix it. He turns around and gently places his hand on the red hair, “Promise me that you won’t lie to Rowen or to Sage and that you’ll tell them exactly how you feel?”

“I will, Kento. I promise… a-and I’m sorry, I’ll be down in a bit.”

Ryo shakes his head finally realizing what everyone else was going on about with Cye. “No bud, its okay. Don’t be sorry. We’ll be down there waiting.”

Sage moves out of the way as the two of them head out of the room then he closes the door. He sighs looking over, “Are you ok?” He knew getting in the middle of disagreements bothered the youngest. He walks over and sits on the other side of Cye on the bed.

“I’m alright…just didn’t mean to be the cause of their fight.”

“You weren’t the cause. Honestly, I’m glad Kento said something. Maybe didn’t go about it in the best way, but his points still stand. Ryo isn’t helping himself or us by going down that spiral.”

“Yeah, Kento was right that we shouldn’t be walking on egg shells around Ryo… you really shouldn’t have done all you did tonight.”

Torrent’s eyes darkened as he sighs, “Just thought if I kept it normal as long as possible that everyone would cool off… a lot of good that did.”

“Here let me see it, can you move it at all?” Halo reaches out gently touching the arm that the other was cradling close to his chest.

“If I move it slowly…o-otherwise it just burns. It’s the same burning sensation a-as earlier.” He winces as pale warm hands pull his arm down and push the hoodie sleeve up. There were bruises running up and down his arm, several dark ones around his wrist.

Rowen’s eyes widen worried, “C-Cye..did this happen in battle?”

“I think it’s his body’s reaction to what we went through with the white armor being nearly torn from our bodies.” Sage closes his eyes and tries to use halo to find out if there was anything else wrong. “It’s presenting itself as a sprain.”

“W-What does that mean?”

“It means, you need to keep it bandaged up and in a sling until further notice,” Rowen explains sighing. “Right?”

The blonde nods sitting back, “Afraid so. No more cooking or lifting heavy things. Come find us if you need any help moving something… as for cooking, I or Mia will be in there to cook beside you.”

“I can’t just sit with my arm in a sling forever, what if the dynasty attacks again? We got rid of Sarenbo but what if there are others?” The youngest exclaimed worried.

“Cye, you’re really close to actually breaking your arm. Right now it’s just very sprained but you push it too far, it’ll be like Ryo’s swords and there will be a crack.” Halo takes a deep breath knowing what he was going to say could go two ways, he just hoped regardless that the water bearer would understand what he was trying to get across. “Besides, you haven’t been in the water lately, so Torrent isn’t as strong as the other armors. You need to rest and keep your arm wrapped up and in a sling until you can get into the ocean. We need you and Torrent to call on the white armor if need be, so please get some rest.” 

Torrent blinks before hanging his head then nods silently. He bites his lip then swallows nervously forcing the best smile he can.

Strata glared at their healer as he walked to the door, “I can go get bandages and the sling, Sage –“

“I’ve got it. I’ll be back, don’t leave this room.”

Cye hangs his head again not saying anything. His armor orb appears in his hand as he rolls it around. “…you don’t have to stay…” He finally whispers, his voice shaking.

“And leave you alone with you’re thoughts? No way.” Rowen sighs heavily, “He didn’t mean it like that, buddy.”

“Mean like what?” He feigns innocence forcing another smile. “It’s okay, it could be worse after all… could be broken a-and now maybe I’ll get some help in the kitchen finally.”

“Cye…” He trails off as the door opens back up and watches as Sage comes in.

“We’re going to need that hoodie off. Rowen, help him pull it off as gently as you can.” The blonde explains setting the medical supplies down.

*~*

“Cye? Is that you?” Yuli calls curiously as he walks into the kitchen. He stops short at seeing Ryo and Kento near the stove. “Where is Cye?”

“He’s uh… he’s upstairs having Sage look at his arm.” Ryo offered explaining what he could. “What’s up?”

“Oh, Cye usually makes me milk and cookies at night! He warms the milk up and adds a little bit of honey…” The child walks over curiously watching Kento fill up the tea kettle. “You’re not doing it right…”

“Lil’ dude, how do you know so much about this?” Kento moves out of the way as a stool is pushed beside him and Yuli climbs up on it taking the tea kettle.

“Like this… if it’s too full it’ll boil over.”

“Oh, yeah.. I-I knew that.” Kento grins sheepishly.

“You hang out with Cye a lot in here, huh?”

“He likes coming in here when it gets too loud or that’s what he told me.” He shrugs innocently. “Will he be ok? Lately, he’s been too tired to come in here, when will the white armor stop making you guys so sleepy?

Kento smiles sadly, “He should be. Go on and head to bed. We’re going to make him some tea to help calm him down. We’re just all tired but we’ll be okay.”

Ryo sighs as they are left in the kitchen alone. “I always wondered where Cye went at night.”

“He always has a cup of tea about 9 o’clock if he has the choice and time.” Hardrock smiles as he pulls down on the coffee mugs from the cabinet putting a tea bag in it. “Look, Ryo.. I’m sorry about earlier…I-I just… we’re all doing the best we can b-but we shouldn’t have to hide how we’re feeling because we don’t want you upset..”

Wildfire rings his own hands nervously as he shakes his head, “I-I just don’t understand why you guys have to get hurt in order for the armor to work!?”

“Because it’s mystical armor? You may never get the explanation you’re hoping for, dude.” He shrugs crossing his arms.

“Aren’t you scared!? You can barely walk afterwards!”

“I’m terrified. But what good is it going to do to worry about that?! We’re more worried about saving your life when we join to become that armor.”

“…what?”

“Yeah… each time it’s been called, we did it to save you. Yeah we’re going to be a bit beat up, I mean we took the hits for you… but we’d do it again.” He shrugs grinning. “We’re like a super hero within a hero! Kinda cool when you think about it.”

“I never meant for you guys to hide how you felt… I-I just couldn’t get over how weak everyone was and I was okay, like nothing happened.”

“We’ll get that way soon enough.”

*~*

“Sage, was that really necessary?!” Rowen hisses as he follows the blonde up the stairs. They had left Cye with Kento and Ryo and were headed up for some quiet time before bed.

“Was what necessary?”

“What you told Cye earlier? That his armor wasn’t strong enough.”

“I never said that. I said he needed to get back into the water for him to be stronger. The armor is weak right now. He hasn’t recharged it.” Sage explains confused. “What?”

“I swear, sometimes I think you ignore the obvious on purpose.” Rowen sighs shutting the door. “You know one of Cye’s biggest fears is that he’s too weak to be on our team? He’s been told by the Warlords and Talpa so many times he was the weakest warrior with the gentle attack and now he’s the one who is still very injured after our battle and you just reassured every fear he’s had up until now? Good job, buddy.”

Halo sits back on the edge of the bed looking down at his armor orb as he rolls it around in his hand. “I-I mean the armor is sadly only as strong as it’s bearer..”

Strata blinks not expecting to hear that. His temper was rising, he was sick of all of them. “Would it hurt you to just be a bit more compassionate? I know this is against your personality but you kinda suck at having a warm place in someones heart, ya know?”

“Warm and fuzzy isn’t my strong point. You know that.”

“When I tell you one of the guys on our team is havin’ trouble figuring out if he’s meant to wear the armor or not and I just inform you on what you said probably made it worse … you’re response isn’t what you said.”

“I was nice to Cye. I made sure not to yell or anything and was gentle.”

“Physically. Sage, you just gave him something to worry about on top of everyone else, Ryo, the White Armor.. you name it and now this.”

“It probably didn’t bother him.”

“Wanna bet? Come on then. We’re going downstairs.”

“Why? They probably went to bed. Cye was exhausted and is probably sleeping. At least I hope he is. Kento more than likely carried him up to bed physically.”

The other just growls and shakes his head, “Let’s go.”

They walk down the stairs, the lights were off but they saw a light come from the kitchen. Cye was sitting at the bar hunched over, his arm still in the sling and wrapped up. A cup of was left forgotten beside him on the counter.

He was rolling the torrent armor orb around in his hand sniffling. He turns his head embarrassed and wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. There was no need to be crying over something he already knew to be true and yet it still hurt hear it. His shoulders shook as he buried his head into his hand.

Rowen sighs but shakes his head to Sage, “Stay here.” He whispers almost silently. “Cye?” He calls out softly, “Buddy? You in here?”

Cye lifts his head trying to wipe away the tears and compose himself before he was found out. “I’m in here..” His voice shook as he tried to force a smile and act somewhat normal.

“You ok?”

“..I’m alright. You should go to bed, Rowen.. Sage will get mad at you for going to be late again.”

“You’ve been cryin’. I’m not leavin’ ya like this.” Strata sighs climbing up on the barstool next to him. “You didn’t like your tea?”

“…I-I forgot it was there.”

“You never forget your tea unless you’re upset about something.” He reaches out as the other hangs his head. “Hey, what is it?”

“…I-I’m not meant to wear the bloody armor, Rowen. I’m not. The armor was meant to find someone stronger, someone more capable… someone who isn’t weak.” He shoves the armor orb into Rowen’s hands as he tries not to break down.

“Buddy, that’s not true. You helped us take down Talpa and Sarenbo.. who knows what else we’ll kick out of our orbit.”

“You were there. Sage confirmed it.” Cye sits back in his chair leaning back wincing as he moves his arm the right away. “I’m the only one who is seriously injured from the last fight and he said that Torrent wasn’t as strong as the others.”

“Cye, he was telling you to go recharge your armor.”

“Isn;’t it him who repeatedly tells us “The armor is only as strong as its bearer”…I’m weak Rowen. I’m useless to you guys. I may as well be canon fodder at this point. Just push me in front and I’ll take all of the hits.” He grumbles before he bites his lip upset.

Rowen sighs hopping down, “C’mere.. you’re not weak. You’re not useless.” He pulls Cye down with him and hugs him as tight as he can minding the arm. “The armor chose you for a reason. It is strong. You’re just hurt right now. That doesn’t mean we’re just going to leave you behind because of it.”

Cye buries his face into the other’s shoulder, his good hand clinging to him. His shoulders shake as he breaks down crying.

Strata looks over Torrent’s head glaring at Halo who was there watching the entire thing. Halo looked genuinely upset for once. He dropped his gaze guiltily. He started to walk in when Hardrock burst in from the other door.

“Cye?! There you …..Cye? What happened? Is it your arm?” Kento hurries over as the youngest pulls away from Rowen clearly still upset. “Are you hurting?”

Rowen sighs, “He thinks he’s too weak for his armor.”

“Aw man, no not this again.. who told you that? If it was Sage, I’ll kick his ass.” Kento growls angrily hugging Cye to his side. “I told ya man, you are POWER-FUL! You can drop an ocean on people’s heads… with fish, maybe an octapus or something… but just boom! Tidal wave.” He holds his arm out showing it off for dramatics. “You can put out fires and your power rivals that of the Wildfire.. remember that giant ass ball of plasma you two made?!”

“K-Kento.. it wasn’t that impressive.. and if I recall I was unconscious for the next 12 hours..”

“Yeah because you over did it. That doesn’t make you weak, it just means you found your stopping point.” He sighs and turns to his best friend reaching out to wipe the tears away. “I’m not going to let you beat yourself up, Cye.”

“…I-I’m sorry Kento… b-but…I’m … look at me.” The other sighs biting his lip. “I’m injured..a-and have to recharge my armor and.. if we’re attacked I’m bloody useless.”

“Don’t you ever say that. You hear me? You are useful. I don’t want to hear that out of your mouth again. I don’t care what Mr. All High and Mighty preaches with his stupid “the armor is only as strong as its owner” … that’s his way of provin’ he’s better than everyone else. The fact of the matter is our armors chose US for a reason. If torrent wanted another bearer, it would have chose a different one. The fact that it chose to show itself to you and you only, little buddy, is pretty damn cool.”

Cye blinks before he sniffles smiling nervously. He looks down at his arm in the sling sadly. Kento shakes his head lifting the other’s chin, “Look at me, dude. We’re all hurt. My knee is still killing me. I iced it most of the night and I’m still limpin’. You saw Mr. Know it all.. his hand still hurts… and Rowen, here, I’m sure he’s still limping.”

“Yeah, kinda still tender that’s for sure. I hadn’t thought about icing it.”

“Ice for 10 minutes. Warm for 10 minutes! Learned it when I took ___. Best advice I ever got.” Kento nods smiling. He then sees the teacup and walks over to it. “Did you forget about it?”

Cye nods shrugging, “It’s alright, Kento.. I didn’t need it anyway.”

“Nope. Making you another one.” Hardrock walks over and turns the burner on heating up the water again. “Rowen and I are going to make you the perfect cup of tea, we’re going to help you upstairs, you can take a benedryl or aspirin if you need it, then you’re going to curl up with that book about light houses you were reading with Suki and you’re going to drink the tea and relax. I’ll stay up with you until you’re tired enough to snooze.”

“Kento, I don’t need to take any medication.”

“At least take the aspirin. Mia got some night time stuff, it will leave you a little groggy and take the pain away.” He turns to look at Rowen, “You remember where Mia put it?”

“We could just ask Sage, he could help Cye sleep.”

Unseen by the group, the blonde lifted his head at hearing Rowen say that.

“No way man, he hurt Cye as it is. I don’t want him to make it worse. Sorry, Cye. I’m putting my foot down. We can talk to him tomorrow.”

“But Kento…” Cye started as he’s walked over to the small table to sit at instead. “I’d rather Sage help me. At least I won’t be too groggy in the morning to make breakfast.”

“Buddy, you are not makin’ breakfast with that arm. I told you that already. So did Sage.”

The youngest sighs, “….can we make some green tea as well and put together a warm compress?”

The other two look up.

Cye blushes at being stared at but smiles nervously. “Kento, it’s not fair to get mad at Sage like you are.. he’s still learning, like we all are… a-and he may be a jerk most of the time, but he does care… and if he’s hurt, whose taking care of him? I know he likes green tea, and the warm compress may help his hand. I know there are pressure points you can massage to help that but sadly I’m one handed, and I don’t know how to explain it.”

“He hurt you, Cye. I don’t like when he does that. He can get mad at me all he wants but I won’t stand for it when hurts you. Phsycially or mentally. It was uncalled for. We wouldn’t go off on Ryo because he has a panic attack over his swords being cracked, right? We’d try and help him out? It’s the same with you and your armor.”

“K-Kento…”

Rowen looks back into the darkness to see if Sage had left or not. He was surprised to see him still there. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear… Sage, get out here and stop lurkin’.”

“Hey man, what were you doing to Cye!?” Kento steps in front of his best friend, arms out, ready to protect him. “You know it’s a sore spot and yet you poked it anyway.”

The blonde sighs holding his hands up, “Kento, I come in peace. I-I heard it… all of it.”

Rowen crosses his arms leaning back against the counter listening intrigued.

“Look, I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to come across like I did. T-Torrent has to be recharged in order for the bearer to wear it. For some reason, Torrent is the only armor that requires it as frequently as it does.” He sighs as Cye’s face drops. “I don’t know why it is that way but I know for certain, it’s not the bearer. The ancient would have relayed that to me before the battle with Talpa.”

Kento lowers his arms slowly but doesn’t move. “And?”

“…And, you’re not a weak warrior, Cye. A-At all. In fact you hit more of your targets then the rest of us combined, ignoring Rowen’s mystical bow that fires on command… you are more skilled with your Yari than Ryo is with the swords. You do this without using your surekill either, which is pretty impressive. Yes, you’re small, but you use your size so it works and you’re able to get in and out of places that we can’t.” Sage rambles nervously. He wasn’t used to being called out on his attitude as often as he should have been.

“…I-I do…?”

Rowen walks over and places the armor orb back into the youngest’s hand, “Here. Keep this. You need it.”

“I’m sorry, Cye. I didn’t think through what I said or how I said it. I was frustrated with everything else going on and I knew I couldn’t fix your injury… like Kento said, we don’t like it when you’re hurt.” Sage walks over finally making it past Kento. He smiles nervously kneeling down in front of the other warrior. “Please don’t cry over the nonsense that Talpa tried to break you with. And ignore me.. I need to get better at thinking and reacting better.”

[randomnameless]

Do you agree that anyone that uses death of the author as argument shouldn't be arguing about a text? Because according to them all interpretations are valid so why argue against other people's interpretations?

Mmh...

I guess it's part of the duality of fandom life - people want to talk about the game are very involved in it, but they also create fun headcanons to explore said game's lore/setting/characters.

So in way, participating in fandom and even writing fanfiction, or saying stupid things like "hc : Nabateans attach a great importance to golden trinkets" is, in a way, pushing your own interpretation over the game's.

But at one point, it depends on what you want to argue about.

Argue about headcanon? Uh... it's like arguing about what topping you prefer on your ice cream. It's your ice cream, your tastes, so you can prefer chocolate cookies or peanuts and it's, you know, not open to discussion as in "talking with you made me realise peanuts are was tastier than chocolate chip cookies".

I like to talk and discuss and see other people's headcanons because it's fun and when some of ours match we can nerd about pointless things like warm rocks or nabatean laying eggs, but you won't see me being an ass and tell them "uh your headcanon sucks, you should put blue cheese on your ice cream".

Now, arguing about canon?

FE16 (and Fe Fodlan in general) is a game where the devs forgot to hire a continuity game and thought letting the world "vague" would make it look "deeper and richer" than it is. 10k years of lore, after all. And we have at least 2 unreliable narrators, that are Lords so who are protagonists and usually should be believed... expect that the game shows us they're full of nonsense regarding various topics.

But, unlike headcanon, canon isn't subjective, it's the same game (well... depending on the audio, it's not) everyone played, some people were kind enough to create a website where every line (+ dub!) is available, so it's not a question of interpretation as much as going to read and check the datamine website and the hundreds of YT videos, were people recorded their PT.

Was Burnie surrounded by flames, effectively preventing her escape from her pyre, or not?

Does Cyril mention to Mercedes how he only ate every couple of days before coming to the monastery (so under House Goneril's good care and in the Almyran army) or not?

Those things can be easily checked, and there's no interpretation.

If you don't like canon, you can churn out headcanon and have fun developing them, maybe finding people who like them and expend them themselves!

But for various reasons (is it because fanfiction has a bad rep since the 2000s for being something, idk, teenage girls write? or because it's not seen as very serious (tm) as a redshit post?) some people in the Fodlan fandom don't really want to confess they don't like the canon, and prefer the headcanon/fanfiction version of the game portrayed through a certain fic that, in turn, influenced how canon is perceived by some devoted fans.

(and let's not forget the lolcalisation that, too, didn't like the base game and edited it for ~ reasons ~)

And imo, Death of the author, in those fandom circles, is a roundabout way to say "the canon is not conclusive so i interpret the situation as this, but it's totes not my headcanon nor a fanfiction bcs i'm no gross fangirl, it's still canon, but my interpretation of the canon"

Tldr : Arguing about headcanon is as pointless and fruitless as starting a shipwar, and in the 2020s apparently it's too shameful to confess liking/writing fanfictions, so instead you like and write "your own interpretations of canon or how it should be" instead, using various theories like "Death of the Author" to validate your creative process, bcs fanfics gross'n'bad'n'only for lonely teenager girls, i guess.

[suguann]

anne!! i am dropping by to wish you a happy may!! it’s been a while 🥺 how are you?? i’m bringing in some tea and coffee 🥹 ☕️🍵 and of course!! some more pretty flowers 🌼🌸

i also have a curious sel question!!! what do you think simon would smell like? what’s his go-to cafe order? 🥺 

SEL! Hello love, how have you been? Happy May 🌸 So far it's brought lots of rain and coolish days for me.

It has been a while! My puppy has taken over my life (in a good way), and I wanted us to adjust to each other before carrying on with my hobbies again. I could definitely use the caffeine right now, since he wakes up at the same time every day regardless of what time he goes to sleep 😩 He's an angel, but puppies are so ambitious in the morning lol

I think Simon would faintly smell of tobacco, orange soap, and burnt sulfur (like the fireworks smell). His cologne is probably something subtle and woodsy (definitely not the circa 2000s Axe spray). I also think he takes his coffee black with a little sugar along with a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel. He just seems like a simple fellow, all cut corners and no fuss.

[thoughtaddictand]

Plot summary of "Digimon Adventure 02: The Beginning!"

digimon fandom deleted my plot summary of "Digimon Adventure 02: The Beginning. So I'm posting it here

Digimon Adventure 02: The Beginning

In February 2012, a giant, shiny egg appears above the Tokyo Skytree. At the same time, people all around the world receive a message stating that "everyone is going to have friends, everyone is going to have a Digimon".

On February 28th, 2012, Davis Motomiya and Veemon invite the other Digimon Adventure 02 protagonists and their Digimon to a meal at the ramen bar where they work. There they see a report on television about a young man having climbed up the Skytree to talk with the giant egg. They head there, just in time for the Digimon to catch said guy, who had fallen off. He introduces himself as Lui Ohwada and claims to have been the first child with a Digimon partner. While he shows them his broken Digivice, the kids wonder why he is not accompanied by a Digimon partner. He refuses to give them an answer, but asks them to destroy the giant egg on his behalf, to which they agree. Davis and Ken use Paildramon to fly towards the egg, together with Rui, and attack it, but are unsuccessful. Instead, they fall off Paildramon and right into the egg.

When regaining consciousness, they discover that they have travelled back in time to February 29th, 1996. They see a young Rui, who had birthday that day. Rather than celebrating, he is seen growing up unhappily, with a comatose father and an abusive mother, who locks him out on the balcony. There, a Digi-Egg appeared and hatched into Ukkomon. The Digimon promised Lui to make all his wishes come true, with adult Lui explaining that it had the actual power to do so. Young him had thereafter wished for a happy family life, and for himself and everyone in the world to have friends. Ukkomon had promised to make it come true by his next birthday.

The DigiDestined are thereafter returned to the present. They head towards their old school, where Lui explains what had happened subsequently. His father had awoken from his coma, and his mother had become friendlier towards him, with both of them accepting Ukkomon into the family. Furthermore, his wish had created a bond between Digimon and human children, whom had subsequently began meeting their Digimon partners, essentially setting the events of the Digimon Adventure universe in motion. As Lui had been happy on his next birthday in 2000, and more and more children became friends with Digimon, Ukkomon felt like it was fullfilling its promise.

However, in 2004, Lui became disillusioned, once he noticed that Ukkomon had robbed his parents and other children off their free will. He also realized that the bond between Digimon and humans was leading to fighting and destruction. In rage, he had destroyed his Digivice, damaging his eye in the process. Ukkomon replaced the eye with one of its own, but Lui had still felt dissatisfied, and expressed that he did not want Ukkomon in his life anymore. Feeling that it had lost its purpose, Ukkomon then regressed back into a Digiegg, along with leaving Lui's parents for dead. The Digiegg was identical to the one that now hovered above Tokyo Skytree.

Shortly after Lui finishes his story, the clock strikes twelve: It’s Lui’s birthday again. The giant Digiegg then transforms into a giant, shiny creature resembling Ukkomon, but equipped with far more tentacles. Each tentacle comes with a Digiegg attached, through which the children conclude that Ukkomon is attempting to give every human on the planet a Digimon partner over the course of the day. Worried that this would cause an insufferable amount of chaos, maybe even the world’s destruction, they agree to stop it. Lui urges the other Digidestined to kill Ukkomon, but they refuse, concluding that this might destroy the partnership between humans and Digimon for good. Instead, they convince him that Ukkomon merely wishes to reconcile, and that this is what Rui also should do.

To have Lui and Ukkomon meet, the Digidestined's Digimon evolve: First to Champion level, and then to their DNA Digivolved forms. Fighting the giant Ukkomon creature along the way, they manage to bring Lui to it, who then enters its body. Lui finds himself back on his birthday in 1996. He manages to create an oppertunity to speak with Ukkomon on his own, where they manage to speak out reconcile. However, Lui is told that Ukkomon's giant version in the present still needs to be destroyed.

Back in 2012, Lui informs the Digidestined of his success. Imperialdramon subsequently fights and manages to defeat the giant Ukkomon. Following the battle, Ukkomon’s normal sized Digiegg materializes back into Lui’s hand, who also loses his artificial eye. While he promises a fresh start for them, Digivices all around the world suddenly begin disappearing. The DigiDestined conclude that they have become a relic of the path, due to the fact that a strong partnership and will for conflict resolution alone are enough to maintain the bond between a Digimon and its human partner.

[whatthefusco]

Finally finished playing through Dragon Age Inquisition again so that I could play Trespasser for the first time, and I have some (objectively correct) thoughts. I'm going to ramble a lot here, but click below for a 300,000 word essay on why I'm gonna crack Solas's head like an egg and make a dreadwolf omelette.

People have spoken at length about how the roles of Inquisitor and Herald of Andraste require your main character to put aside everything they were before, appearing as a symbol while the person is forgotten. It's a theme throughout the game, most explicitly called out in Jaws of Hakkon. But I'm going to broaden that thought and talk about the concept of masks and how that applies to our companions (and ultimately Solas).

Sera is a Red Jenny. She is very much her own person with a very vibrant and wacky personality, but like the Inquisitor she dons this alter ego to do good in the world. The little people need to feel there is someone is looking out for them, so she disappears into the collective role of Red Jenny to help the common folk help themselves (and provide the occasional ass kicking when it's required). Sera gives up a piece of her identity to help people.

Iron Bull is a spy for the Qunari and tells you that immediately, effectively claiming that he isn't going to bother with wearing a mask here - you get to see the "real" Iron Bull immediately. But he is very clever, and keeps his true loyalties close to his chest, which ultimately leads to him either betraying you or not at a pivotal moment. He admits that he submitted himself to a Qunari reeducation camp, burying his own identity deeper to better be of service to them. Bull intentionally buries himself to better fulfill his role in Qunari society (and to better help the Inquisition, if you earn his loyalty).

Dorian is asked by his family to wear a mask - to do a political marriage and have children for the purpose of Tevinter's weird magister breeding values and hereditary political power- and rejects it. His sexuality keeps him from fitting into the ideals of Tevinter society, but he won't compromise his identity for an unjust purpose. Instead he walks away and finds his acceptance in the Inquisition. When his father dies he returns to Tevinter, never hiding who he is, and uses his political power to fight for a more just Tevinter. Dorian rejects a convenient mask and puts himself in danger for what is right.

If Sera's mask is closest to the Inquisitor's, then Blackwall's is closest to Solas's. Blackwall is ashamed of his past - the actions he took hurt people, and he believes his true identity of Thom Rainer to be beyond redemption. When the real Blackwall died, Thom took up that mantle - a mask to hide himself from the world, but also to live up to the ideals of the Wardens: duty and self-sacrifice for the greater good. He donned this role selfishly, but as he tries to embody these ideals and put his past behind him he genuinely grows as a person. When one man is about to be executed in his stead, Blackwall gives up the mask immediately. He stops the execution and reveals his true self to be judged for his crimes, believing he will be executed himself. Blackwall drops his mask for the life of one relatively-innocent man.

But Solas.

Solas has two masks, in a sense. His ancient mask of the Dreadwolf, covering the actions he took in the distant past, and his modern mask of a simple apostate seeking to aid the Inquisition.

Creating the Veil destroyed ancient elven society. He retreats from the world and goes into a deep sleep for millenia, studying the world through dreams. Eventually he wakes up, decides "no this all sucks, there's no hope here, I'm going to bring down the fade amd destroy all civilization as it exists now in an attempt to soft-reboot to the world of 2000 years ago", and starts scheming. All of this is prior to Inquisition. Before he ever meets the Inquisitor, he's actively working to blow up the world and start over. Cool.

So he can't open his orb and hands it off to Corypheus, knowing that it'll explode and assuming Corypheus will be disintegrated (as opposed to respawning via the Blight). So we get a fun little terrorist attack of convenience to kick off Solas's modern rap sheet, and once again Solas nearly dooms the world by assuming he understood everything (is Solas named the Elven word for pride? Or perhaps is the Elven word for pride based on his true name?).

Solas pivots and joins the Inquisition, correctly assuming Corypheus will be after the Inquisitor. He puts on his apostate mask and gets to advising. He has so many opportunities to bring the mask down, but every single time he chooses to keep it.

He has the chance to help the Inquisition prepare for Corypheus prior to the destruction of Haven, but instead he clings to this mask.

Through Tevinter time travel shenanigans he learns the potential consequences of the Inquisition's failure, but instead of providing much needed intel he clings to this mask.

When the Wardens are planning to march an army of demons into the Deep Roads and kill the Old Gods before they can be blighted, he gets pissed. "There's no telling what that would do" he says, actively scheming to break the world a third time despite being 0 for 2 on overly-clever plans. Once again he tells the Inquisitor nothing and clings to his mask.

At the Well of Mythal, in his supposed area of expertise, he is tightlipped and argumentative the whole time. Yes we need the well. No Morrigan should not have it. No I will absolutely not take it, do not ask again. The Inquisitor drinking from the well seems to be the best choice, but he'll yell at you for it anyway because the man is a control freak. Will he tell you any of the deeply relevant information he has? No, he's just an apostate scholar, what are you talking about.

The Inquisitor can make choice after choice to improve the world. Help the mages. Help the city elves. Make a knowing sacrifice at the well to learn more about ancient elven history and share it with your people. And Solas will simply nod and smile or frown and scold and none of it actually matters to him because he's still going to blow up the world. Just beat Corypheus and get him his orb back already, don't you realize everything you build is doomed?

And at the end of all this, all these calculated lies and missed opportunities to come clean and shape the existing world, he leaves. You spend two more years fixing the world without him, and the Inquisition doesn't really suffer for it considering he was sandbagging you the whole time anyway.

Then he shows up for 2 minutes to monologue at you while you're incapable of fighting him.

Don't worry, it's definitely going to work this time. There's almost a 0% chance some new guy comes in and drops a stone pillar on the ritual, it's fine. The world will be good now, I swear.

Redemption is for people who care. It's for people who are trying. Feeling bad about your previous decisions doesn't factor in if you keep making the same selfish, prideful choices at every opportunity.

You do all that and then have the gall to say you're going to tear the world down? You don't get redemption, you get *hunted*.