#WHICH IS A CHARACTERIZATION IN IT OF ITSELF but i could talk about that in its own post as well

[hotvintagepoll]

Do you have any opinions on modern (post-1970s) movies that you feel capture the essence (in a good way) of Old Movies?

No, unfortunately. That doesn't mean I don't like modern movies or that modern movies aren't good, but modern movies—and here I'm really using modern to mean post-2010, so contemporary movies—have different standards for pacing, characterization, budget, and production that make it harder (or impossible) to capture some of the magic of old movies. Even when modern movies clearly try to emulate that old-movie feeling—I'm thinking of La La Land, The Artist, The Shape of Water, In the Heights—they play the homage too broadly, or they ignore crucial components that make the original films work.

There's kind of too much to go into here without writing a full essay, but essentially, the Old Hollywood system—ugly, failed beast as she was—made some movies simply more accessible to make, due to the ongoing storage of props, sets, master craftsmen, crew, and onscreen talent that could move from one movie to the next without pause. If you needed a dancer, he was already on staff. If you needed a fancy bed, it was already in the warehouse. That kind of longterm storage is invaluable if you want to crank out movies quickly and cheaply because it saves so much time on individual negotiation and sourcing. Modern production companies have to work out individual contracts for every actor on every film; crew members have to negotiate rental contracts and source pieces from scratch; if you need someone with specialist skills, you have to contract them specially at a high rate, which a lot of small companies can't (or won't) budget to do. There's sand in the wheels where there needn't be any. It's wasteful, and costly, but that's the system modern movies are made with.

Which all means that even if the modern movie system wanted to make a classic movie musical just like the old ones, they couldn't, because the talent isn't already there—it hasn't been trained up enough, and there's not that breadth of knowledge you can only get from people who have been allowed to work in the same department in the same place for decades. Movies like La La Land fail, for me, because they present themselves as descendants of Fred Astaire or Busby Berkley movies, while missing the bit where Fred Astaire was a master of his craft. When you watch Fred Astaire dance—or Moira Shearer, or the Nicholas Brothers, or Ann Miller—you are watching a true artist at work, purposely showcased by the studios because they already have them on contract. Modern movies, on the other hand, tend to take people who already have star talent (as actors) and try to convert them into dancers/singers—or they pull dancers/singers off of Broadway, but then they don't have the star power built in. You end up with lackluster musicals where no one truly knows what they're doing, or they do but they're not built up enough by the studios to sell. And that's me discussing just on-screen talent for musicals—there is a huge loss behind the scenes, as well, for all kinds of movies, where roles that would have been filled by union crew who moved continuously from one job to the next have been swapped for freelance labor who live with immense turnover, financial insecurity, and knowledge loss. You could hand me the budget and I could try to make an old movie, but the industry itself has changed so much it's impossible to recapture that charm of steady, niche talent, the amazing possibilities of bonkers set design, and the ability to take a risk on a smaller movie because the other films being produced by the same studio can help balance the budget.

I've talked way, way too much about all of this! Sorry, I just have a lot of thoughts—and the one above is just one of them; the talent loss and storage issues are only facets of a much bigger problem that extends to how we watch movies today, how we market them, what we expect of them, and what's allowed in them. It's a crying shame because the talent is still there, but times change and so does the industry, for better or for worse. (And, just again to clarify, I don't think modern movies are bad—they're just missing a lot of the juice old movies got to play with, even if there's more talent available than ever before.)

[devine-fem]

I know a lot of people don’t read for Ra’s Al Ghul and understand because it is hard to find good characterization and solos for him period but if you need a reference here’s the complexity of Ra’s Al Ghul’s character, especially if you wish to write him.

Let’s extablish this: Ra’s Al Ghul is evil. He is a villian but not purposeless, he has motivations, ideations, as to why he does what he does. The Demon’s Head is a philosophy after all.

In the comic I’m going to talk about frequently, Ra’s aims to topple empires built upon the betterment of humans but to the destruction of animal health, habitation, ecosystem, and people who are a threat to the Earth itself, he then makes sure the next person who takes this Empire aims to either shut it down or improve it in a way that no longer allows said empire benefit from malicious means.

Batman: One Bad Day explains Ra’s Al Ghuls youth and loss of his home and family at the face of a siege, with nowhere to go and no protection, he was left defenseless until he was protected by the wolves in the wilderness which led him to believe that the forest itself protected him. This is why I have a hard time hating Ra’s personally, I could never hate someone who’s gone through every catastrophic event of our ancestory, I imagine he’s victim to a lot of historical tragedy and any attempts to find happiness in a pure, authentic way probably was snatched from him. He’s likely seen the worst of society and I couldn’t hate him for that.

It’s important to note that Ra’s Al Ghul can love within centuries of his life, then he can be abusive.

He believes all life to be just as worthy and precious as another. He believes all life is worth being saved though after all the hell that humans has put the Earth and it’s children through he has grown bitter and angry. He’s experienced the pit madness over and over, it’s likely simply a part of who he is.

Over spending hundreds of years alive, so much grief and death every single year for centries, he’s become traumatized. Now he attempts to save humanity from itself because of one bad day.

Ra’s Al Ghul has even said that Jason Todd’s unnecessary death caused him to grieve, so much so that he sought Jason’s body out and brought him back to life.

Here is Ra’s Al Ghul breaking down and tears for having to put his pet down so he’s very much not emotionless.

Here is Damian arguing with his father over whether Ra’s Al Ghul’s ideations are correct or not. Damian’s feelings toward Ra’s are likely extremely complicated but I am sure there is more bad than good but that doesn’t mean it’s all bad.

Here is Ra’s Al Ghul telling Damian that he is proud of him and has a deep respect for him. Also note that in Birth of the Demon, Ra’s Al Ghul has said that he prefers Bruce and him to be allies instead of enemies and even considers Bruce his son.

Ra’s still wishes he could be allies with Bruce and fantasizes about fighting alongside him to this day.

Ra’s threatens Damian’s life but immediately after admits that he was just bluffing, and he would not have hurt Damian.

When Ra’s mortally wounds Bruce, he lets Damian have a moment with his father given that he’s the one who fatally wounded Bruce in the first place.

Ra’s says explicitly that he was doing what he is doing for Damian’s future. He states again that he does not believe one life is more important than the other, even humans.

I think it's very important that what Ra's does is extremely traumatizing and would not make sense to a child. He functions in a way where he thinks he is right and what he is doing comes from a place of love and compassion, including the things he does to Damian.

Whether you agree with his philosophy or not is up to you, but he truly believes he's doing what he is doing for the bettering and benefit of his family.

In conclusion, he is somewhat human, he's somewhat of a madman, he believes human life is valuable but as valuable as a healthy bird soaring through the sky, his actions come from a place of love though sometimes (often) he may be abusive. He would not kill a man without reason, he would not kill an animal without reason, he says above that he thinks killing to survive is different from killing for pleasure, he believes he's doing the same as killing to survive. And finally, he has no interest in anyone or anything that does not fullfill his role as the demon’s head.

[stillness-in-green]

The thing that doesn't make sense to me if Izuku resolved to kill is how it doesn't let them prove AFO wrong? AFO did his big reveal which only makes it clearer how deep the grooming went and it should've been time for Izuku to understand Tenko and Tenko to understand the abuse then reject the mindset forced onto him. But Izuku killing Tenko doesn't do that. Tenko just dies. It feels very wrong.

I guess Izuku just wasn't very interested in proving AFO wrong! Honestly, the only thing I immediately remember Izuku disputing the guy on was the same thing he disputed Shigaraki on: that he was anything more than a human being. AFO isn't a Demon King, but just a lonely man. Shigaraki hasn't transcended humanity; there's still a human somewhere deep inside of him. Izuku won't correct his allies' use of dehumanizing language for Villains, of course, but he's quick to push back when the Villains themselves self-aggrandize.

Sorry, I really only have withering disdain for Deku at this point. And I guess I don't really see any evidence that Deku was ever particularly driven by "proving AFO wrong." He wants to stop AFO, certainly, but that's because AFO is a monster who takes advantage of vulnerable people to maneuver them into doing Bad Things that advance AFO's Bad Plans and sets them onto Bad Paths that are difficult to walk back, not because he expressly opposes AFO on this or that ideological point about the nature of humanity and society.

(Hit the jump for the rest of a somewhat rambly reply.)

If anything, current evidence is that neither Deku nor the manga itself really do disagree with AFO about the frailty of humans, as expressed by Tsukauchi answering Deku's question about how to prevent future tragedies by shrugging and saying, "You don't, because life fucking sucks sometimes and that's just how it is. Our hands are completely tied on improving the system as we have it, so all we can do is punch out the Villains that appear in front of us to stop them from causing more harm."

That's also me being a bit harsh, of course. The fact that Deku is even still asking that question in the epilogue suggests that the manga hasn't reached its final answer yet, and maybe it will yet come up with something better! It doesn't have much time left, but it's still possible!

All the same, Deku is still having to ask that question in the epilogue because he never truly faced it over the course of the story. Never thinking about what Shigaraki as a person said in favor of fetishizing the Crying Child, never coming up with any kind of non-violent plan of attack or conversational approach, I have to ask what exactly about Shigaraki did Deku ever disagree with AFO on?

AFO, in the end, characterized Shigaraki as a puppet he molded exactly as he desired, a doll who he sculpted and programmed to act as he wished, a feeble child who has never made a single decision that AFO didn't cultivate him to make. So far as I can tell, Deku never really contested that framing. He didn't know the extent of it until the full reveal, of course, but Deku, like AFO, insisted on approaching Shigaraki solely through that "Crying Child" lens. He seemed to believe that nothing Shigaraki said or did on the surface really mattered (save as a reason that Shigaraki had to be stopped and potentially killed), that the "truth" of Shigaraki was that feeble little weeping boy who never grew up.

How could Deku possibly "prove AFO wrong" in that context? He doesn't even disagree with him! I mean, he's got some nice talk about how people deserve a second chance, sure; he says that people doing wrong doesn't make them Villains for the rest of their lives. What does do that, however - insofar as I can tell from how opaque the series keeps Deku throughout the final war - is refusing the hand out of the darkness. You stop being a victim and become a Villain for the rest of your life by choosing to remain a Villain even when offered an alternative (no matter how patently awful that alternative is).

Shigaraki chooses to remain a Villain and Deku doesn't have a counter for that because Deku never really got past the false binary represented by Villains and Victims to begin with. And I think the same goes for people who expected Shigaraki to just fold when he realized the extent of the grooming he'd undergone. Disallowing Shigaraki any agency in who he is and what he's done is defining him the same way AFO and Deku both did; when Shigaraki refuses to accept that framing, refuses to be a passive victim, the only thing left for him to be is a Villain. And when a Villain refuses to stop...

Well, Hawks already told us what the Heroes' answer to that is. "Someone has to die." As no one ever stepped up to prove him wrong, as far as the story is concerned, he isn't.

AFO always knew that victims can be turned into Villains with the right nudges; that's the whole reason for him cultivating "warped seeds" whenever and wherever he found them. Hero Society is - and always has been - much too rigid in its enforcement of the Hero/Villain/Victim narrative to effectively combat him. Crucially, Deku - the boy who wants to bring everything back just the way it was - doesn't disagree with him. He thinks AFO is an asshole for setting people up to fail, but he doesn't disagree about what failure means. So if AFO, Deku, and the story itself are all in agreement, what's even there for Deku to disprove?

Now, there is something that would prove AFO wrong, but it isn't something you can do while insisting on drawing lines to separate sad manipulated woobie victims who just need to be saved from awful unrepentant villains who just need to rot. It isn't something you can do while infantilizing Shigaraki Tomura.

The way to prove AFO wrong is to make room in society to help all Villains. Even if they aren't asking for it, even if they never ask for it, and even if they're jolly bastards who don't really deserve it! As long as there's a point at which it becomes okay to give up on trying to save Villains, Shigaraki will remain unsavable. He will insist on being unsavable. He could no more let that go than All Might could step aside and let AFO's attack kill an innocent at Kamino.

That's what it means to be a Hero for Villains.

Ultimately, what makes AFO right is that he knows that Hero Society makes it difficult if not impossible to uncross the victim-to-Villain bridge, and so anyone who does cross that bridge (with or without his influence) is that much more susceptible to him. Deku, in turn, thinks the only Villains he can save are those who drop everything and come sprinting as fast as they can back to the Hero side, so anyone who won't do that is someone he can't help.

Shigaraki refused to stop trying to create a better world for Villains. Toga refused to live in a world that would imprison her. Twice refused to give up on the friends no Hero would help. It's the same with every other Villain who refused to quietly endure their status quo: in a society that refuses to change how it treats Villains, anyone who won't submit to suffering in silence cannot be saved.

That's the paradigm AFO exploits, and Deku will never prove him wrong without resolving to change the paradigm first. We'll see if the last two chapters get him there.

[catalinemorosetheblog]

On Divergent Universe and Aventio

Okay, so I know that pretty much everyone has noticed the Aventio bits in the Divergent Universe video that was released a few days ago, but I wanted to take a moment to point something out in the famous question 2 section at the end.

So, as most probably already know, this is what I'm talking about. Aventurine puts up a sign that says "Find Ratio", when asked who the Trailblazer could team up with. This in of itself confirms Aventurine see Ratio as an ally, but what happens before it is just as important.

This is where Owlbert first puts forwards the question. Now, nothing particularly special happens in the prior one. Everyone gives pretty standard answers for their specific characterizations, Screwllum's is the only one that's helpful, and Ratio and Aventurine give their typical responses pretty quickly.

That changes however for the second question.

Aventurine does not answer immediately, unlike everyone else, including Ratio. Which means he had to think about his response.

Further evidence of this comes from Aventurine's pose when the question was first asked.

He's doing a thinking pose (also sort of mirror Ratio lol), and he doesn't do this for the other question (so it isn't some sort of default animation). And given that his responses to question 1 and 3 both related to money/bribes, he did not put this same level of thought into them.

It's also pretty easy to miss due to Sparkle transforming and everything, but if you look carefully...

He looks at Ratio, or in the very least glances in his direction, possibly to look at his sign. However, it also exists the possibility that Ratio was the first person he thought of when thinking of a good teammate.

And then a moment later...

Ratio glances back, which leads Aventurine to put up his own sign.

Now, Ratio staring back could mean many things. It could be that he started staring at Aventurine because Aventurine was staring at him. It could be that Ratio noticed that Aventurine hadn't answered yet, and was urging him to do so. Or, dare I say it, he saw Aventurine hadn't answered yet, and was concerned about him. Ultimately, there is no way to determine the true reason, given that none of the G&A guests talk.

But it is extremely telling that Aventurine, who could have just tied it back into money again, was the only guest who gave a specific person to team up with. And it was Ratio, not one of his IPC coworkers, not a member of the Astral Express, but Ratio. Someone who, at some point, Aventurine believed that Ratio would not understand his methods so much so that he forced him to point a gun at his chest, as seen in the infamous Final Victory Lightcone:

(Please note that, in the short video for this lightcone, Ratio tries to pull the gun away from Aventurine, but Aventurine pulls it back).

And assuming that Aventurine was reading Ratio's sign card, there exists another possibility.

As seen above, Ratio responds with the phrase "Walk Your Own Path". This is in line with pretty much everything known about Ratio. His main motivation is to "cure" foolishness. He wants people to overcome their problems. He's a teacher, a strict one, both metaphorically and literally. His role in the interlude quest before Penacony was to both push the Trailblazer to figure out what was going on with the researcher's disappearances and step in if things went south. It's also why one of the reason he gives Aventurine that note in the main story (that, and that they were likely being watched by the Family) instead of telling him directly. Every interaction, voice lines, and the fact that Ratio does not wear his plaster head in any scene he appears in with Aventurine, implies that he does not see him as foolish. He knows Aventurine is capable. Hell, in the most final Penacony main story mission, he says Aventurine is his responsibility or something along those lines (unprompted, mind you).

But it also relates towards Aventurine's backstory. Aventurine, for all his good luck, has had one sucky life. But he also has fought tooth and nail to survive, through gambles and wagers and money and being quite literally sold away to live. In that sense, his life also has never been his own. But I think he managed to regain some hope by the end of Cats Among Pigeons, and of course, Ratio's note, which told him to live (in a Ratio way).

So imagine: Aventurine sees Ratio's response in the video, thinks about what he would do, what he would do following his own path...and says to find Ratio.

Now, it could true that I am pulling at threads here, but there is evidence of trust. In one way or another, these two emotionally constipated too smart for their own good dumdums care about each other and show it in the most convoluted ways imaginable. And for the that reason, I think that these two mentioning each unprompted on multiple occasional, this video included, is very telling. They're important to each other. They went from shaky allies to two people who will bring up the other in conversations. Hell, I already made a post about the cake cats, and how in Divergent Universe, what this video was explaining, gambling got added, which could have only been done by Ratio, because let's face it, Screwllum would not.

Essentially:

These b*tches gay.

Bonus:

Their reactions to Sparkle's shenanigans.

[kelocitta]

In honor of the @rw-ship-showdown I wanted to write about Artihunter as someone who jokingly slapped them together pre-downpour and still thinks they are actually very compelling. Just not in the super soft love wins kinda way (Although I get why people like that more) And the only way I know how to do that is talking too much so heres a far too long slug essay-

Obviously the slugcats don't offer a ton of characterization but theres not nothing to work with. Their stories, whether by their roles in it or the overarching themes do provide a backbone to work with. Even gameplay itself can provide a bit. (for some more than others) Hunter, to me, is ultimately a story about selflessness. The goal is to revive Moon, which is very much an act of kindness from both Hunter and NSH. But the weight of that action is much more significant for Hunter- Hunter is deeply sick. They're on the clock, and for all their skill in combat none of that will ultimately help them to survive longer than their body can hold out. Moon is a close friend of NSH but that means little Hunter- Hunter really gets next to nothing out of helping them, and ultimately pays quiet a bit spending their limited time alive fighting to deliver that neuron so that someone else can live.

To spend ones limited days on helping another, in a game that very much stresses the unwavering cruelty of the world and nature- is pretty notable. (And you could even say that Hunter being the Hardmode of Rain World adds another layer to this)

And then we have Artificer. A storyline that very much stands out to people as more… villainous (so to speak) than the other slugcats. Artificer's story covers a lot of things. Trauma, violence, revenge, etc. Revenge is a bit of a selfish desire- That need to see someone hurt as they have hurt you. A punishment that ultimately does not fix whatever harm was done- but feels good to see because you were hurt and now those responsible share that pain.

Artificer's actions are founded in that need for revenge, their pups killed for overstepping boundaries they didn't know existed. Is it not fair for them to be angry at that, to punish the scavengers for their violence with their own? Why should the scavengers ever be forgiven when they and their pups were not? And that's how you get that loop- Harm for harm over and over.

The original action has been lost in a spiral of violence for violence. And here stands Artificer- their very spirit scarred. Not just because they sought revenge, but because they never ceased trying to scratch that itch for violence as an answer. Artificer only has two paths for their story- killing the scavenger king (Someone who, really, has little to do with the original 'crime' of the scavengers, but represents an important individual to them- as did the slugpups to Artificer), locking themselves as karma one for good and spending the rest of their life chasing creatures that no longer even fight back in a warped sense of closure- or to dissolve themselves in the acids of the void sea because they're too far gone to find any real peace.

They can't meaningfully recover from that state, not alone, twisting in on themselves. Even if they halt their actions, they've been using violence as a feeble defense against their own pain- violence that no longer has any real direction or basis. Artificer gets no real closure from killing the scavenger king. All they can do is continue the cycle, or try to scrub it away. No real peace in a prison of their own making. So you have a creature, who even with a strict timer on their life- a body that will crumble to disease, spends its last bit of time on saving another. And another who was so caught up in the pain of loss that were eaten alive by their own anger, poisoned their own soul on such a deep level even self-proclaimed gods have no solution for them. What peace can they offer each other? For Hunter, its only a fleeting moment of happiness- of selfish love, before their own body fails them. A bit of indulgence in something for themself. For Artificer, its a single, comforting thread to ground them again, something tangible to protect and care about again. But thats a thread that will ultimately be snapped under the cruel indifference of the world. Hunters timer will tick down regardless of if it takes another with it. Its a tragedy- its doomed to end badly. Whatever good it offers to either of them to find each other will only provide the fleeting comfort of a band-aid that will be ripped away too early. But all that can be worth indulging in anyway, if only for the moment. It doesn't change the ending, but the ending was never going to be happy. Its can so yuri

[frankingsteinery]

for some reason people seem to think that mary somehow stumbled into writing a commentary on marriage/incest accidentally, and that the themes of frankenstein are all about her trauma due to her experiences as a victim of the patriarchy, as a woman and a mother surrounded by men - as if she wasnt the child of radical liberals who publicly renounced marriage, as if she herself as well as percy shelley had similar politics on marriage, as if she would not go on to write a novel where the central theme is explicitly that of father/daughter incest years later…

the most obvious and frequent critique of victor i see is of his attempt to create life - the creature - without female presence. it’s taught in schools, wrote about by academics, talked about in fandom spaces - mary shelley was a feminist who wrote about feminism by making victor a misogynist. he’s misogynistic because he invented a method of procreation without involving women purely out of male entitlement and masculine arrogance and superiority, and shelley demonstrates the consequences of subverting women in the creation process/and by extension the patriarchy because this method fails terribly - his son in a monster, and victor is punished for his arrogance via the murder of his entire family; thus there is no place for procreation without the presence of women, right?

while this interpretation – though far from my favorite – is not without merit, i see it thrown around as The interpretation, which i feel does a great disservice to the other themes surrounding victor, the creature, the relationship between mother and child, parenthood, marriage, etc.

this argument also, ironically, tends to undermine the agency and power of frankenstein’s female characters, because it often relies on interpreting them as being solely passive, demure archetypes to establish their distinction from the 3 male narrators, who in contrast are performing violent and/or reprehensible actions while all the woman stay home (i.e., shelley paradoxically critiques the patriarchy by making all her female characters the reductive stereotypes that were enforced during her time period, so the flaws of our male narrators arise due to this social inequality).

in doing so it completely strips elizabeth (and caroline and justine to a lesser extent) of the power of the actions that she DID take — standing up in front of a corrupt court, speaking against the injustice of the system and attempting to fight against its verdict, lamenting the state of female social status that prevented her from visiting victor at ingolstadt, subverting traditional gender roles by offering victor an out to their arranged marriage as opposed to the other way around, taking part in determining ernest’s career and education in direct opposition to alphonse, etc. it also comes off as a very “i could fix him,” vibe, that is, it suggests if women were given equal social standing to men then elizabeth would have been able to rein victor in so to speak and prevent the events of the book from happening. which is a demeaning expectation/obligation in of itself and only reinforces the reductive passive, motherly archetypes that these same people are speaking against

it is also not very well supported: most of the argument rests on ignoring female character’s actual characterization and focusing one specific quote, often taken out of context (“a new species would bless me as its creator and source…no father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as i should deserve theirs”) which “proves” victor’s sense of male superiority, and on victors treatment/perception of elizabeth, primarily from a line of thinking he had at five years old, where he objectified her by thinking of her (or rather — being told so by caroline) as a gift to him. again, the morality of victor’s character is being determined by thoughts he had at five years old.

obviously this is not at all to say i think their relationship was a healthy one - i dont think victor and elizabeth’s marriage was ever intended to be perceived as good, but more importantly, writing their relationship this way was a deliberate critique of marriage culture.

[annabelle--cane]

it's fascinating to me the way that different social media platforms result in different types of fandom behavior. while s5 of tma was airing, I spent a good amount of time on tma tiktok (I log back in about once every two months now, going back to in-person school after a year a half of lockdown seem to re-blanace my brain and made me once again not really enjoy the format) while still using tumblr as my main socmed, and while there was a lot of overlap in the fan culture, some things were notably different.

tumblr tma fans had near-encyclopedic knowledge of the source material, but it was kind of an ongoing joke for tiktok tma fans that everyone binged the whole show in a week-long fugue state and lost memory of about 35% of it. tumblr has virtually no character limit and allows posts to be passed around by users indefinitely, which lends itself to fairly in-depth meta analysis being made and shared until most any fan could say "the time and space discrepancies at hill top road? psh yeah, I know all about them, I've read seven scrupulously cited posts that lay out all the details." for the entire time that s5 was airing, tiktok videos could still only be a minute long, and I know from a lot of personal effort that there's only so much you can fit into a one minute script that you also have to memorize and record (and cc manually with tiktok text stickers, as they didn't add the caption feature until april 2021) if you want the process to take less than four hours of your one mortal human life. and then you only see the video if your following or fyp algorithm shows it to you. there were a few tma meta-ish videos that got popular because other people would make their own videos referencing them and tag the account so their followers could see what they were talking about, but it's much harder to circulate content you like there. several times I saw people post videos saying "I got into cosplay to film some [agnes or annabelle or gerry or another secondary character] and I just realized I have no idea what their deal actually is 💀".

a thing that tiktok tma fandom was definitely better at than tumblr tma fandom was accurately remembering certain pieces of characterization and the flow of certain scenes. I've seen a bunch of posts on here where someone is trying to argue a point with excerpts from the text ("x character is nicer than you all give them credit for" "x character is so mean to y character in this scene" "z theory can't be true because y character said a line that disproves it") where the argument only holds up because the poster has gotten these excerpts from a transcript dive and hasn't listened to the episodes they're from recently, because while the text alone can be construed to mean one thing, the way it's delivered on-podcast clearly intends another. tiktok, being an audio and video based medium, allows audio clips to be shared around a lot, and cosplayers would often all make videos acting along to the same show clips of juicy interpersonal drama, and so tiktok fans, though they may have had less overall memory of what characters said, always had a better grasp on how they said it. an average tiktok tma fan might not have remembered melanie's subplot about war ghosts, but they would know the nuances of how the way she talks to jon changes between mag 28 and mag 155.

[ganondoodle]

random thought about the memory system

a big difference between why botws memories worked so well but totks didnt is mainly bc in botw, there wasnt that much plot, you kinda knew what was up by the time you left the tutorial, all memories serve you just as well as link, sending you around a hyrule you dont know, the few scenes of main characters do a good job of giving you an idea of who they are, but the majority is focused on zelda and link, why she acted to cold to him at first and later became friends, the characterization being not jsut in memories but also in how people remember them, their diary etc, when you meet their ghosts theres a familiarity to how they talk to you, they know and care about you, its like giving you late friend one last visit; getting memories out of order really doesnt hurt that characterization and overall it really just serves to flesh out the past and what made this world the way you see it now but mainly it gives you characters

in totk, its ... the main plot driving thing, you are here for the story now more than the world bc you know the world already, besides the sages stuff (that isnt much either besides some legends that apprently were always a thing but never popped up until now), its basically the entire plot and it all hinges on it, its trying to be both plot and character introduction AND characterization, which it simply cant do; we already know zelda and what shes like, but its like the game itself doesnt know what to do with her now, she doesnt do anything, she stands around listenign to strangers talk, whenever she says anything shes dismissed or it simply doesnt matter, the most she does is go around to faceless and nameless sages of old we dont know nor care about in a damn near copy paste scene begging them to help link of the far future somehow even tho they really have no reason to and then she swallows a stone bc she has literally no other choice; fleshing out the past doesnt work either bc this past is so far removed from anything of the world and people you know that theres simply no meaningful connection to make you really care, there are no characters alive that knew the people of old ...except mineru and rauru are still there, but then dont tell you shit, theres so much you dont know about them, their world or history and they dont tell you anything bc *gestures vaguely* ?? even ganondorf only says some standard villain stuff that tells us pretty much nothing about him nor rauru, no one in your time asking you who the hell that ghost powered robot is? no she sits in her robot somewhere deep underground (how does she even get out of there at the end, she needed you to drive her around to her own temple after all) given how straight up obsessed hyrules entire population is with sonau stuff they sure dont do anything with a literal person from that time and then at the end she jsut goes poof, welp, guess we will never, sure, fine keep your secrects; getting the memories out of order destroys literally any kind of story that was there, like it wasnt predicatble from like memory 3 to where it would go (predicable can be good but in this case its boring as hell) anyway

.. theres more i could talk about but this is already longer than intended and i want to do other things but this with my evening, you probably heard most of my problems with this game in my rants by now anyway

[serendipnpipity]

The Magician: “The representation of pure willpower. With the power of the elements and the suits, he takes the potential innate in the fool and molds it into being with the power of desire.” (x) 

Not-so-little design breakdown below!

Of course Phil had to be the Magician. Take a look at his TATINOF and II segments—the literal reference is already there (and can be seen in his outfit, which is a mix of the TATINOF magician’s tuxedo and the II red button-up).

Not only that, the Magician is characterized as a “master manifester”. How many of this guy’s tarot predictions have come true? Talk about psychic manifestation abilities.

The wand held by the Magician traditionally represents balance, being a “perfect union” of two ends of a candle (x). What’s a more perfect union than PINOF itself, the pinnacle union of dnp’s channels in those first ten years? Hence, the wand in his hand became a Sharpie, and to mimic light emanating out of what would be a candle flame traditionally, I added cat whiskers in bright yellow.

The workbench in front of the Magician holds all four suits (pentacles, cups, swords, wands) to symbolize how everything can be channeled together to create (sorry, “craft”, taken verbatim from the website) new ideas and endeavors. The bench itself I stole straight out of the phouse (other side partial kitchen reveal yay), while the suits have been turned into dnp-project-related objects. The pentacle (glitterface pentagram) and sword (slime knife) are from DAPC, while the wand (Wii remote) and cup (Flame Susan mocktail) are from DAPG. 

This card, helpfully, is surrounded by plants; I chose some of their non-crispy houseplants for the background. In the back, obviously, is the vine creeping along the cool black wall in the kitchen area. In the front, the fronds are inspired by plants I could see in the background of the 2nd London apartment AP set, accompanied by two roses (orange, for the flowers Dan receives at the end of WAD… and the orange heart). 

I saw in the visual breakdown for the card that one site says the infinity above the Magician’s head represents “the equilibrium of opposites that The Magician requires to create”. That is THE most Dan and Phil thing I have ever heard, with all their cosmically coincidental opposite characteristics. 

When I drew that infinity on the background though, on the phouse wall, it hit me. This is the “forever home”. Of course, there’s an infinity sign plastered on top of it. This revelation was so strong, I broke down and texted @bewareofthenewphannie about it.

Oh, and ginger quiff Phil? Thank Misty for that one, they suggested it would be a good look if I wanted to combine past and present in one outfit/style.

All in all, I had so much fun making this! What a pleasure and an honor to be a part of such a beautiful project. 🧡

@dnptarot

[skrrtscree]

P3M MAKOTO YUKI MISCONCEPTIONS

To be honest, it kind of annoys me when people watch the persona 3 movies and come away with it with the wrong idea of what Makotos character is in them. I don't mean the people who don't like the movies or their portrayal of him. It's fine if you don't, btw. Media is subjective, and different people will take away different things from the same thing, but I feel like some people end up completely missing the mark and mischaractizing that version of him.

For all the odd choices the p3 movies make, I'm adamant that his character and his arc is the best part about them, so it kind of urks me when i see tharpeople take away from it is that 'he's emotionless and devoid of personality' or 'a complete asshole who doesn't care about anything' both of which is untrue in all the films.

CW: blood in one of the images (the car accident scene, it just shows the hand but still)

First of all, the whole him being 'rude and uncaring' thing; To be honest, nothing he says strikes me as rude, it all comes off as blunt and not fitting the situation (him asking if they can leave during the hospital scene, and his answer seemingly having no sympathy when they talk to Natsuki). Of course to those who don't know him that well, he comes off as cold especially since his facial expression or tone barely change.

And the uncaring bit continues to get debunked through every film. Even in the first film, where he's closed himself off and doesn't care about living. He awakens to his persona to protect Yukari, he helps Fuuka collect her stuff twice despite not knowing her and even listens to her talk about Natsuki, he summons a different persona and throws himself at the Priestess to save Junpei. He goes against what he was told to do and goes straight into Tartarus because of the fear that his team will die if he doesn't.

It's made clear in the first movie that despite avoiding connections with people, he still can't let people die, deep down he cares about those around him getting hurt and wants to prevent that. It seems to heavily be rooted by his PTSD of the accident, him getting flashbacks to it in both the second and third full moon at the thought of someone dying. He's willing to throw himself in danger, not giving up even if he gets hurt or could exhaust himself, he has no care about his life, but he still cares about those around him.

The only claim I could see holding weight is the 'no personality' part but that's mainly because he spends half of the first film following orders from other people, but that itself can be seen as part of him, he doesn't have any direction or any care about his life so he follows what everyone tells and wants from him. He fights because he was told hed make a great asset to the team, he stays behind because him going would make Yukari mad, he has no reason not to listen or any argument to refute it, and this is dismantled near the end where he refuses to listen when they tell him to run because he can't let anyone die.

This is all I've gathered from the first movie still, I could carry on for all of them (and there is alot to talk about in each one in regards to his character) but I think I've made my point. Not only does they continue to prove those points incorrect, his character continues to evolve with the events around him.

I don't think there's a right or wrong way to write or portray makoto. The movies are not the be- all-all-end all of his characterization, but when you're talking about or writing that specific version of him, just don't end up writing him in a way that completely contradicts what the film shows.

[milliebobbyflay]

Okay so I've spent a while thinking about how to word my actual problem with homestuck 2, and the works that make up post-canon homestuck more broadly. I think a lot of people resort to nitpicking bits of awkward writing or art in some attempt to pinpoint a source to an underlying sort of hollow uncanniness, which is funny because homestuck's supposed golden age of acts 1-5 are themselves FAR more of a tonally inconsistent mess of odd character beats, jokes that don't always land, and janky looking art.

Homestuck 2 has been written and drawn by very talented and passionate artists from the beginning, I think the actual issue comes down to a mix between the general pitfalls of hiring fans and the particulars of hussie's outsider background and unorthodox writing style.

First is the issue of hiring fans in general; while it can seem like an easy shortcut to finding talented writers already familiar with the voice and story of the original work, you have to be very aware of how fan culture operates. Beyond the obvious pitfalls that fans are unlikely to approach the story from a detached perspective, there is the larger issue that past a certain point fandom becomes essentially self sustaining. Once a fandom has existed for a long enough period, its most avid members have likely spent FAR more time engaging with other fan works than they have with the original art object. Fandom and the art it produces are, in this way, a sort of a folk tradition; artists are imitating and responding to other artists, characters become archetypes through which to explore certain ideas and dynamics, and the values and tastes of the most prolific and influential fan artists become as inseparable from a participants mental image of the character as the original work itself.

For an example, the affected theatrical mannerisms and cruelty Vriska adopts while in her Mindfang persona have become inseparable from the popular view of the character. Despite the fact that it's heavily signposted as a sort of role playing performance from the jump and she's more or less dropped it by the back half of the comic, it was nevertheless how she had acted in the bulk of her scenes around the time the ur-texts of homestuck fandom were being written, and as so an understandable misread of a character became inscribed into the fandom canon, and by extension her characterization in Homestuck 2.

All of this is extrapolated by the sort of unorthdox, building-the-plane-while-flying-it manner in which Hussie's writing style developed.

Based on his commentary, I get the sense that Andrew is an incredibly clever and thoughtful writer who lacks the theory and vocabulary to precisely describe his process. He tends to communicate in sort of abstract metaphors which aim to bridge the gap in explaining the actual conscious process he uses to plot his stories, but the way he talks about technical nuts and bolts writing craft stuff gives me the impression that his approach is largely intuitive, bordering on unconscious. He's a lot better at describing how he writes than what he writes or why.

You can of course piece a lot this together—his approach to art draws from the tradition of videogame spritework, where the visuals exist as a utilitarian vehicle for conveying information first and a work of illustration only inasmuch is needed to serve the greater story. His character writing draws more from a synthesis of literary fiction, sitcom writing, and "making up a guy" style posting humor, where characters are defined more by their life experiences and underlying psychology than by their goals and values, but also seem to have largely been constructed backwards from a starting point of a funny or interesting manner of speaking. Importantly though, I don't get the sense that these were conscious decisions, just that to Hussie they seemed like the logical way to approach these tasks, and I don't really think he could outline them in a way that would actually help a new team of creators grok how to draw and write in a way that feels like homestuck. I also don't think Hussie could actually explain the psychology that undergirds his character writing, I think he was mostly just drawing on his own life experience and imagining how this sort of character might logically speak and act.

As a novelist, and Hussie is one, both your thought processes and the sum total of your worldview and life experience are just as important to your work as the actual conscious decisions you're making, and I think that where there are gaps in understanding, the new writers are filling in the gaps with both a more conventional approach to the creative process and over a decade of accumulated fanon, and I think that's why homestuck 2 never really rises above feeling like a very well-made fanfic to me?

[kyoghurts]

Hellooooooo, hope you are having an amazing day/night!!! I recently read one of your stories about rayne and his assistant, I absolutely loved it!!!! Had me flipping my hands and giggling a lot l, I really liked the way you characterized him. So I was wondering if you could write about him with a reader that's on outside a little bit like him (people finding them intimidating, socially awkward and smart) but it's actually a lot like Finn (they are a little shy, tends to cry easily and really loyal) I don't know if that makes sense... but anyways aajsjsjajs

im actually an amalgam of these two 🥲 so sorry for not writing this sooner but here you go <3

✶ HAPPY TEARS.

mashle. rayne ames x gn reader

content. fluff & 1.6k wc. this leans more towards platonic relationship but can be interpreted in any form. messy writing bc im back in the slumps.

people often find you smart, it's seen in the numbers etched to your papers and the consistent participation in class, there's a tone of modesty in the way you interact with others, and your quiet nature in medium to large social groups does nothing but earn you the intimidating, or rather, mysterious type of a title.

the admiration of others is bearable, you're lucky you're not too popular, you don't really know how else to go about it. unlike a certain someone whom you're well acquainted with, but not necessarily close to call a friend. he doesn't even pay attention to you when you're not the one initiating a conversation, which is actually convenient for the most part.

rayne ames doesn't bother you like the rest; he'll talk to you if the circumstances deem it necessary. things you can list off as 'school-related' situations, there are days where his generosity reaches far, extending to you for reasons you can't pinpoint. he offers you his notes when you ask, acknowledges your presence by maintaining eye contact until you nod at him and he does the same, walk beside him in silence as if it's a long-time habit —like friends who no longer feel the need to talk in order to maintain the bond, he's already nice enough to feel unbothered with you, that itself is a bond worthy of simple sentiments, if there’s any existing between your bones.

(who are you kidding, of course you’re sentimental. people often befriend you for their own benefit, it makes you want to crawl into yourself, the layers of the title you’re given have grown thicker; no one else can see you when you’re protected by what you have constructed.)

(but deep down, there’s a friend in your bed who accepts your tears as it is, and you’re happy because they don’t speak ill of you behind your back, they let you ramble until you cling to them in your sleep.)

(you’re happy because nobody is here, just you and your pillow, still alone. hurt becomes a friend you’re ready to share with yourself.)

(you’re happy this way, right?)

a particular memory flashes through your mind, one that causes you to flinch from your daze.

(wrong. happiness doesn’t come in a messy rain soaked in your poor pillows. hurt becomes a bully when you place it upon yourself.)

you were having the worst of anxieties when the day strikes you for the report that was supposed to be due by next week. perhaps its your fault in the first place to forget that he’s never been nice to you or to anyone, and he had the audacity to taunt you when you were ready to bite his head off then and there.

there are days where you simply cannot go by without curling into a corner—literally— and easing your worries in private, this day should not be one of them, but it is.

though to save some good news, you already finished your script anyway. and the topic is quite easy than the others, all you have to do is get up and sort your lines and not freak out when eyes are finally set on you. god, you could practically rip your flashcards with how you’ve been fumbling it with aggressive fingers almost tearing the edges right now.

“what are you doing?”

you let out a painful shreak, panting when the air in your lungs have been knocked out. you’re still crouching, but you turn your head and look up to see golden eyes watching you in such a way that you’re considering leaving altogether.

“rayne?” the calmness of your voice is such a comical contrast to your terrified expression that you want to laugh, if not for the current state that you’re in.

“the prof is coming soon. aren’t you getting ready?”

“i am getting ready” you say, almost sounding upset and salty. your gaze flick back to the pointed corner, not wanting to deal anymore of this. “i’m …nervous, okay. i need to think here.”

you close your eyes and sigh. you don’t need to know that rayne pities you at this moment, you don’t really care how he thinks of you, and you know him enough to discern him as the type to not care of someone like you either. you sigh once more and eventually feel composed. it’s enough to keep you intact—for now, at least.

you fall into complete silence, it stays like this for a while until you hear someone sigh behind you and—why is he still here?

“are you done?” he asks when you turn as you give him an incredulous look, as if saying his question is just plain stupid.

you don’t give him an answer. you stand up to your feet, fixing your robe and patting them down…but you can’t resist the strong pull of his gaze, so you meet his eyes once more, only to be taken aback by how…placid he actually is.

no sharpness in his glare. no spite in the refined lines of his face.

you had to ask, “how did you know i was here?”

“i saw you walked out.”

“i mean how did you find me—“

“does it matter?”

your brows knit together in slight tense, “of course it does.”

he walks away, remaining quiet. if that doesn’t piss you off now, you don’t know what will. your glare behind his head as you follow suit is something you wouldn’t imagine yourself to do, but something about rayne just doesn’t sit right with you at all. none of your peers know this sort of hiding spot that you have, and most definitely your personal magic could have detected the slightest track of presence within 100-meter radius range.

he walks up ahead, remaining quiet which irks you more than it should. you follow suit, already drained to keep persisting him. for a moment you think, if he hadn’t showed up, maybe you’d still be in the slump far longer you can’t endure. maybe, a teeny tiny part of you is grateful, but you’re not one to admit that out loud.

instead, you try to keep up with him, placing yourself beside him as placid as you can muster.

he speaks softly, catching you off guard, “you do that when you’re anxious.”

you’re not quite sure what to say, the way he states it is rather declarative than a question, you nod in agreement. no point denying it.

“you’re not who they expect you to be.”

“w-what?” you give him a glance, he’s still looking ahead.

“to hell with expectations. just do your best.”

that day, you can’t take your eyes off of him. the awe-struck might have been evident on your face, he briefly blinks at you before his walking pace slows down to match yours.

you feel warm, inexplicably so.

you held back a tear, but it still drops for the seed of happiness to suddenly grow.

“hey.” you greet him, slightly jogging to catch up with him.

he slows down, like always. he acknowledges you through with it, feeling relaxed as you both amble throughout campus.

you smile, maybe you’re friends after all.

“i assume you’re not busy?”

“not really.”

rayne leaves it at that, or so you thought. it takes a minute to register what he said, your footsteps coming to a halt. “sorry…what did you say?”

“you can come with me, i need to buy something in the market.”

rayne ames doesn't bother you like the rest; he'll talk to you if the circumstances deem it necessary. things you can list off as 'school-related' situations-

“is this school-related?”

“no? just things i need to check on my list.”

“oh.” you stand there a little too dumbfounded.

a hint of hesitance fleetingly passes through rayne’s gaze. you don’t intend to make it awkward, but you are, and then you chuckle at yourself for doing so. “sorry, that startled me.”

“it’s not obligatory, so don’t worr-”

“i’ll come!” your lips tilt in an enthusiastic grin as you start walking again, “what’s on the list rayne?”

he faintly bumps your shoulder with such nonchalance you honestly find it unfair, your heart is beating unceremoniously against your chest, and your quivering smile gives away too much.

you’re starting to like the prospect of being bothered by rayne regardless if it’s necessary or not. to hell with expectations, you think, you’ll do your best being the happiest version of yourself.

you return the gesture much too late that it earns you a confused look. and then he bumps you again, and again when you follow another, and another. until you’re laughing at him for being silly and you swear you saw a smile ghost across his lips, as fast as a blink, it’s gone.

you would be happy to witness them everyday, if you can. (and that, you shall.)

notes. gonna start writing that drunk and jealous rayne fic i've put on hold last month :]]]]]

© kyoghurts. ★ reblogs & likes are well appreciated!

[sapphicthunderhead]

TMAGP 21 Spoilers Ahead!

Right out the gate we get yet more confirmation that Sam is trying his best to do the right thing, but that his curiosity is a substantially greater motivating factor behind his actions than either his self-preservation instincts (which may be nonexistent) or his moral principles. This is positively fascinating characterization.

Also, this episode really uses setting to help establish tone in a much subtler manner than a lot of podcasts, which require the characters describe to the setting verbally (Penumbra, Sherlock & Co., Malevolent). Of course, I don’t think it’s quite on the level of setting-through-sound-design that The Silt Verses pulls off, but environmental storytelling isn’t as necessary to the plot and world-building in TMAGP as it is in TSV, so that’s not necessarily a criticism.

Celia cracks me up with her talk of “complicated immigration status.” Every scene featuring Celia is heavy on Dramatic Irony from the perspective of we who Know (have listened to TMA) and bring an element of mystery to the plot for any and all audience members, be they in the Know or not— just a little bit less for the former. Reminds me of the early days of TMA in the way. Jonny does a great job of introducing a mystery element seamlessly into all his horror fiction, and I think the two complement one another perfectly. For another example of this, see his book 13 Storeys (it is spelled that way deliberately). I highly recommend the audiobook on Audible.

(Did anyone else subconsciously assume Jack was some sort of sinister Fear receptacle before this episode? Celia seems genuinely emotionally attached to him, so I’m a little less concerned now.)

On to the statement itself: FUCKING MAGNIFICENT. I am positively infatuated with this one. So much suspense! So much information, such a beautiful bit of storytelling, and yet NO ANSWERS! I am dying for an explanation here, in the best way possible— because I also found myself perfectly content to just enjoy the events unfolding while I was listening.

I really felt that the authorial tone and style Jonny used for this character, Mr. Kennings, harkened back to one of the major inspirations for TMA: the ghost stories of M.R. James, one of my favorite horror authors (alongside Shirley Jackson). I first read his collected works after Jonny mentioned him in a Q&A, and I was hooked; I have since re-read his work a couple of times.

But it wasn’t just the style of this episode I enjoyed. The substance was also very satisfying. I find the idea of the scholars and administrators of the Institute bickering like petty children whilst using their most formal jargon, attempting to conceal their contempt for one another behind a flimsy facade of civility, incredibly amusing. I also found Kennings’ jabs at the British monarchy and his concern about soil toxicity and its effect on the laborers and foremen at the construction site allowed me to follow his perspective somewhat sympathetically— although I was horrified when he did nothing to assist the poor man whose decrepit old doppelgänger emerged from the earthen wall of the ditch to drag him underground. But I should have expected it. Kennings worked for the Magnus Institute, after all.

As an aside, this tragic event could have a couple of possible symbolic meanings. The description of the haggard elderly counterpart of the younger construction worker, who drags himself out of a wall of dirt that Mr. Kennings specifies exhibits “tell-tale indications of heavy metals in the earthen edges of it,” evokes the idea of a young man confronting what his life looks like if he continues to sacrifice his health and safety to this dangerous line of work. It could also be the reverse: the old man killing a younger version of himself who made poor choices (because he had so few choices or none at all, because he had to support himself or a family, who knows?) that would otherwise have killed him slowly and perhaps agonizingly, the toxic gas seeping out of the soil and into his lungs and blood. By the end of the statement, I was surprised that the writers had titled the statement “Breaking Ground” instead of “Poisoned” or something along those lines.

Alice trying to protect Sam from the scary little men in the computer was very amusing. Silly Alice, he serves the plot now! There’s nothing you can do to stop him, my dear! Mwahahahaha!

Lena Kelley being worried about Gwen wasn’t entirely unexpected, but does further emphasize the contrast between her and Jonah-Elias. Still unclear whether Lena is a cog in the Fear machine or is actually doing anything to protect humanity, but she clearly thinks she’s doing the latter. Can’t wait for her disillusionment arc, epiphany, and/or moment of self-awareness.

Then we have Gwen, Ink5oul, and…. What the fuck is that. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck? That can’t be Jon. Another Archivist? Gertrude? Doesn’t sound like it. Who? What? Definitely an extension of the Eye, but the voice is unfamiliar.

Returning to the subject of Kennings’ statement: this series continues to emphasize that there are no clear delineations between Fears. Doppelgänger? Stranger. Dirt? Buried. Pollution? Extinction. All of the above? It’s just fear. That’s all that matters.

[fishhjuice]

An In-depth C-Side Characterization Guide/Cheatsheet by Dottie Fishjuice

Greetings! I am very autistic and therefore knowledgable/cursed about C-Side, and i hope to curse you too. I at least to my knowledge has read thorugh everything provided to us and pondered on it, and now i will be sharing.

This was very much inspired by the analysis provided by @/arogustus and @/evil-urchin.

Everything I will say I will point (at the very least try) to point the source of, because i minored in Comparative Literature so this is how I do literary analysis. The smaller text inside parathesis will be my thoughts and speculations, and I will try to keep these at a minimum, trying to stay as factual as possible.

C-Side as a Whole

C-side is the representative band of the Splatlands region. In fact, it is said that "No band reps harder for the Splatlands than this trio" in Splatbase, not even Deep Cut. They are, aside from Riot Act (which is like C-Side 2), the sole splatband to be from Splatlands.

The Riot Act introduction tweet [by the wording of SplatoonJP] calls them "exemplifying Splatlands values". These values can be a sensitivity to fleeting nature of life, and an effort to be as chic and bold as possible [from Fia's translation of the Artbook]

They have at least been active for 8~ years, being active at the same time as Squid Squad (from Beika's tweets).

In the words of Big Man, "C-side has been making great music for a long time", and has served as one of the musical influences to Deep Cut. [X]

In the tweet presenting Paintscraper [by SplatoonJP, for this bit was lost in translation], they are characterized as a "tight-knit trio". This fondness is also portrayed in several of Beika's tweets.

Who else but Kiki would come back to a band they quit once? Well, I'm pretty sure that the guys who let 'em back in probs would too.

Paintscraper is based on a demo that Walter made. I heard that he played the guitar himself too. It's very silly and ridiculous, but it has a unique charm to it. If I get the chance, I'd like to share it.

(I believe this to be also evident in their music, with Beika and Kikura dueting in all of C-side songs, even Splattack which is originally a solo, speaking into their cohesion as a band and whatnot. Not to mention with Splattack, Uotora and Kikura basically enabled Beika's revenge quest. With the vocalists shouting "C-Side" in Headhammer and Paintscraper, they seem pretty proud of themselves too (which they are and ill talk about it), but this is more speculation than fact. I will get into things more in individual character sections.)

One of the only bits of characterization given by Nintendo to C-side is the fact they have 1) the ambition and 2) the attitude. [X] (I find their ambition to be underrepresented in fandom)

In their introductory tweet [by SplatoonJP, this part again not being translated to English] , they are said to have come from lower economic backgrounds and have no formal music education, making up for this with the said ambition.

As for their attitude, Inue himself has said "The members of C-Side aren’t a well-behaved bunch.". C-side has also been called rowdy, and rebellious.

The combination of their ambition and attitude seems to manifest itself in the form of insolence. It is said that "These three don't doubt for a second that they're the greatest band alive." (And I would like to emphasize "These Three", not only Beika)

That isn't to say their confidence is totally misplaced. They are said to have the most momentum to become the most popular band of Inkfish world [X] out of all, to the point they might have even inspired a counter-movement in the form of H2Whoa ("An Inkopolitan retort to the wild "Splatlands sound" folks were used to"). This is also supported by how the exact word Beika uses to describe Inkopolis is repeatedly used to describe H2Whoa both in their introduction and their Splatbase page, pretentious.

Not only that, Bait and Click (normal and mutation) could also speak into the recognition they get as artists, since the W-3 Cellist is said to recognize only the most radical of works [X]

As for their opinion on salmonid, although Beika uses the word "funny" to describe the salmonid arrangement, Beika calls the Deep Cut arrangement of Now or Never "funny" as well, which overall seems to indicate they have the same level of enthusiasm or respect for Deep Cut and Omega 3. It's remarkably positive language for Salmonid.

They also seem to be very well loved within Splatsville. Despite having no billboards or posters in Splatsville unlike Wet Floor and Squid Squad, the statuettes of their shrimpets are all over Splatsville, in a food stand during Splatfest and in Grizzco office. (It seems to me more like they don't need to advertise in Splatsville at all, people already know who they are, whereas they have posters in Inkopolis)

Another thing to support this is the fact is that trains that come from Splatsville seem to play Clickbait, which you can hear during Big Run [X]. For comparison's sake, the Inkopolis trains play Calamari Inkantation, so it can be said their fame is at least comparable to Callie and Marie.

Speaking of these shrimps, they are implied to be the kind of animal that spooks easily by Frye in her boss dialouge, talking about how "[Neo3] can't treat her eels like shrimp"

Murch's suitcase features an older version of the C-side logo, indicating he is probably a fan.

Although SplatoonNA calls them grungy in their introductory tweet, it is pretty obvious from the tempo of their music, their characterization and the fact they are self taught that C-side is supposed to be less of a grunge band and more of a punk band. For us who are unfamiliar with the difference between genres, grunge is more dark, nihilistic, wretched, angst-filled and anguished, whereas Punk is more rebellious and filled with fighting-spirit. Inue also calls their music "bright, easy to groove to, but still heavy". (I would personally love to see them being characterized as such)

The fact they have no sad defeat theme also probably plays into how C-side is supposed to be bright. The name "Learning Curve" also is a bit more hopeful/positive, possibly giving a glance to how their lyrics could be. (This could speak into their attitude towards their fame, which came after years)

Again playing into their ego, "Rinse/Repeat" seems to be imply something about how effortless winning is to them.

Their music is supposed to be intentionally (by developers) reminiscent of Squid Squad's. In the words of Inue, "We’ve also been keeping in mind the feelings of  "primary colors" and "impulses felt when starting something" from the first game." and in the words of Minegishi, "What was at the forefront of music in the first game was a fast, playful and summery feel using just a few notes. For C-Side, which plays a central role in the third game's music, we made the deep bass and upbeat melody stand out in their music while reminding the audience of the sound from the first game."

Interestingly, their music is also supposed to "counter" Wet Floor's.[X].

It is said that "They don't ask permission to cover other artists' tracks, and they claim their versions are better.". Although this brings up the question if they frequently cover other artists' songs, it is most likely refers to Splattack and Splattack only, as Beika feels the need to clarify why they covered Splattack.

And this is the end of the band section.

I will be getting into the very little we know of their individual characterization under Read More. This part will be a bit more speculative, and cannot be as factual due to the nature of how character analysis works. Your interpretation of these facts is just as valid. If you skimmed or scrolled this far, thank you so much for your time.

I will be going in the order of how much we know of these characters. Unfortunately because most we know about these characters come from Beika, in a way at times they are characterized by their interractions with Beika. I hope to not sound biased. Here we go.

Uotora

Uotora is a long spine porcupinefish.

One thing that jumps out from the album art itself is that Uotora has their spikes out. Spikes of porcupinefish, which Uotora is, only stick out when they are are inflated and otherwise is supposed to lay flat against their body. You already probably know that these fish inflate themselves when they are frightened/threatened. Given this fact, it is very likely Uotora has an anxious personality. (This could be also be playing into Uotora's name in an ironic manner. Uotora, which means tiger fish, could be a play on the scary fish being scared themselves)

They must have a bit of an ego though, considering "These three don't doubt they are the greatest band alive."

They, along with Kikura, seem to support/enable Beika's conflict with Ichiya, from the wording "In the case of Squid Squad's Now or Never!, they [as a group] even claim to be the originators."

They play the guitar and the drums in the Uotora demo. Listening closely, you can seemingly vaguely hear Beika singing along, which speaks to their bond.

Speaking of bonds, the phrasing of Beika's tweet characterizes them as just as willing to welcome Kikura back as Beika was.

Who else but Kiki would come back to a band they quit once? Well, I'm pretty sure that the guys who let 'em back in probs would too.

Best guitarist in C-side. Sorry Kiku.

Kikura

Kikura is a peacock bass.

Peacock bass are said to be aggressive and "downright belligerent" (pointing this out since it would probably affect them the same way Finn being a betta affects Finn)

Apperantly there is still an ambiguity about this, Kikura is the owner of the high-pitched voice without any doubt. In the music for Splatoon that has multiple vocalists, the vocals are panned to only play in one ear and which vocals play for which side line up with the album art for these groups, which makes Kikura who is in the right lined up with the high-pitched voice. We are also able to infer this from Clickbait, in the call and response part of the song, the high-pitched voice only sings when the guitar is playing.

They are stated to be often late to the studio.

They are said to be known for their deep and edgy guitar riffs [X].

According to Beika, they at some point left the band but came back. Beika speaks fondly of this, implying a level of trust between the two.

Who else but Kiki would come back to a band they quit once?

The relationship between the two seems to go beyond this. Despite Beika writing the Triple Dip, they are barely in it, propping Kikura in the song. This also happens in Splattack, which is not only turned into a duet, but also is more guitar heavy, at times removing the bass sections [X]. (It seems to me that Beika likes to show off Kikura)

They, along with Uotora, seem to support/enable Beika's conflict with Ichiya, from the wording "In the case of Squid Squad's Now or Never!, they [as a group] even claim to be the originators."

Again, they are implied to have a bit of an ego, "greatest band alive" yada yada yada.

The tweet about leaving is not about Riot Act, since Riot Act is said to be "Hot on the indie scene", implying it is a new development.

Riot Act is a side project, which in popular music, is a project undertaken by one or more people already known for their involvement in another band, which SplatoonNA also points towards. So no, Kiki didn't leave C-side for Riot Act (but did steal Finn from Beika).

However it might be important to mention when asked about No Plan Survives, they with Finn said "We wanted to play as freely as possible".

Beika

Beika is an inkling. Shocker.

Despite their vague similarities the idea Beika is Frye's brother is contradicted by canon, as Beika implied from their tweets (and the fact that C-side acted as a musical influence to Deep Cut) is older than Frye, not younger. (I made a chart for this)

They are the lower voice for the same reasons I stated for Kiku.

From their first tweets, they come off as friendly/cool or at the very least make the effort to come off as friendly/cool (I use cool very loosely).

There is likely a delibarate effort to cultivate a positive persona by Beika, in how they seem to chastise themselves about how upset they have gotten and /or how they presented themselves with "I rambled too much last night." Another thing pointing at how Beika might be avoiding negativity is with how they seem to undercut their criticisms of Inkopolis scene by stating how they like Bottom Feeders and how they would like everyone to listen to their music.

They seem to be very invested in the music making process, as their first tweets are entirely about their music.

They seem to have the potential to be overdramatic sometimes, as they start their rant with the words "I'm typing this in a drunken stupor". Then again, they are drunk so take this with a grain of salt. (You know C-side lyrics probably go hard)

THIS IS ACTUALLY SO IMPORTANT: Beika does not make the accusation that Ichiya stole the song while drunk!! Please look at the wording!!

I've said this half a billion times this year alone, but Now or Never is a C-Side original.

"I've said this a million times this year alone" clearly shows Beika has made this accusation before.

Other than being very funny, the fact Beika can't seem to even remember Squid Squad's name seems to imply they are indifferent to it. The fact Ichiya is the only Squid Squad member called by name in their tweets goes to show it is Ichiya and Ichiya alone that drives Beika's ire. This is also supported by Beika's, although backhanded, compliment.

The tweet Beika makes before revealing Ichiya was their middle schoolmate is "If there's anything better than a late night meal alone, let me know.". This could very well be interpreted as Beika associating that feeling of loneliness with Ichiya.

It is also important to point out Ichiya did contact Beika.

He decided he was going to go to Inkopolis, and then after a little while, he told me that he had debuted with a band. I tried listening to them just to find out that their sound was so soft that it made my ink churn.

Along with "The Secrets of Front Roe" pointing out Ichiya is avoiding Splatsville "for some reason", it is more than reasonable Beika is not making up the fact Ichiya and them know of each other, and it is not a fit of baseless jelaousy.

While dissing Ichiya, they make time to talk about how they think their fans are cool and talented.

... Any of you guys would be able to make a song that's just as cool.

While doing so they also flaunt their talent, showing the extent of their ego.

I mean our song is this one 300 times better, right? Just wanted to make it clear that we're not trying to pay homage to it or anything like that.

The "You have some nerve to come crawling back home." is said in a very, very harsh tone in Japanese. The wording specifically seems to imply they are very upset at Ichiya leaving in the first place.

While Beika is a loser, they aren't seemingly the type to back down from a fight. Rather than apologizing, they simply say "I rambled too much last night." and go on with their lives.

--

And this is the end of it.

NOW. For a complete speculation,

From wording of "Who else would come back to a band they left" and their need to prop up and show off Kikura,

The fact Ichiya is self taught much like C-Side,

The fact Ichiya is avoiding Splatsville,

The fact Beika seems too proud of their work and very involved in the music making process

The fact C-side is characterized through their ambition

makes me think Ichiya more likely than not did steal Now or Never. It seems to me Beika's pride and ambition would not allow them to lie about a thing they didn't do. If i were to guess, from the fact C-side's Now or Never is a duet, it is likely song was written together before Ichiya took off.

Thank you so much for reading if you actually read this far. See you when Side Order Art Book demolishes all of this!!

[bubba-luz]

What do you think about the One Piece live action show?

(I just suffered through most of it with my sibling and I actually shed a tear or two)

At first I really loved it! But then as the weeks went by the honeymoon phase was over and I started noticing things and thinking about things. Safe to say I’m not really a fan of the LA anymore. It could have been worse honestly with the track record of Netflix and live action adaptations in general [the wigs oh god the wigs]. Also on the topic of adaptation I’d say OPLA is more of an interpretation of the original manga than it is a one on one adaptation.

I think the cast is great, they do look the part. But the characterizations of the LA is well…not the manga one. I had forgotten what happened in the EB arc at that time, but I started rewatching the anime and the changes are even more jarring. In the LA, Luffy isn’t as confident as he is in the manga, he clearly shows doubt in his abilities and sometimes needs someone else to help him up and get his head on straight. I think the only true time that happens in the manga us when Jinbē has to tell him to get himself together after losing Ace and his crew, most of the time Luffy doesn’t really need to ponder and go “oh gosh what should I do here?😣” he mostly just does things without thinking or improvises mid-battle.

Zoro. Zoro Zoro Zoro. Roronoa Zoro. Why are you not a complete loser? OPLA Zoro is what men in the fandom think Zoro is, a stoic no nonsense cool guy who fights with swords. He’s just so emo. But he’s not. The concept alone of fighting with a sword in your mouth and calling it three sword style is ridiculous itself. This is pre-timeskip too, Zoro is always goofy, but he was even more silly when he was 19, this is the same man who tried to cut off his own legs and started posing when he realized he wasn’t getting out. Why was he so serious all the time. Also the Kunia story did not hit as well as in the manga, like I really didn’t give a fuck 😭.

Oh Nami…Nami…To me Nami felt a bit…mean to me? And yes even before Arlong Park she chastises the boys, but it never feels like genuine dislike. I really think LA Nami wanted to leave their asses 😭. There was no whimsicalness in her heart, TOO MUCH ANGST in this one. And why on Earth would they change her storyline with the Village, the townspeople know Nami is only working for Arlong to buy back their Village, the LA approach of them not knowing was completely unnecessary conflict😭.

Usopp was done dirty, I know Syrup Village isn’t a lot of people’s favorite arc but it was Usopp’s arc. So tell me why he does nothing the whole time! And why is Zoro’s back story in the middle of USOPP’S arc. They even took his little kid crew…

rip Merry.

Sanji…ooohohohohoh Sanji. Sanji. SANJI. What do you mean the eyebrows wouldn’t work because they’re “too silly” you’re main character is a rubber man and the other fights with three swords what do you mean TOO SILLY. You had a man with cat whiskers fuck you. Tiny swirls would’ve worked. Why was he obsessed with oregano 😭 The showrunner said they toned down his pervertedness and made him more flirty but it just felt…uncomfortable. Like Nami was genuinely UNCOMFORTABLE. They did the exact opposite of what they tried to do. Baratie Sanji was already a flirt, in his little pathetic “step on me mommy” Sanji way, and Nami used that to her advantage she wasn’t uncomfortable in the manga. The Don Krieg pirates were taken out, so we don’t get Gin and Sanji’s kindness on full display. Sanji doesn’t even WITNESS Zoro fight Mihawk which is what made him want to go set out to find the All Blue in the first place. Why don’t Zeff and Sanji have genuine chemistry😭. Sanji throwing a tantrum at Zeff was soooooo funny, literally what was that, it happened so suddenly 😭. My friend told me the showrunner said his fave arc was Baratie but he only ever talks about MIHAWK 😭, it’s SANJI’s arc bro.

And also the showrunner thinks the romance dawn trio are the main characters when…they’re not😭? Maybe before Usopp joined, but after?…no all the strawhats are the main characters hello. Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Chopper, Robin, Franky, Brook, Jinbē. I don’t have high hopes for S2, and I probably won’t watch it either.

Edit: OPLA Sanji feels like a heterosexual man. He only tops women and doesn’t fuck or get fucked by men.

[niichanism]

another throwaway-ish acesabo fic i might finish eventually maybe not. the logic and characterization started bugging me but also this ain't about that. i wanted to write alpha sabo wearing a muzzle while rejection-sensitive omega ace is extremely pissed to be denied kissies

Me in 2014, unenlightened: omegaverse is just a cheap tactic to make stoic blorbos pathetic Me now: I think ace one piece should experience PMS 

set ambiguously after marineford but ace lives + nothing huge is going on with the RA

TW: omegaverse, pre-heat pms??? lmao, this one actually isn't that spicy it's just silly summary: ace: what if you helped me with my heat. hahaahaha jk. unless sabo: (malfunctions)

“Another meeting?”

Even Ace is surprised at the sharpness in his voice. It's been jumping out of him these last few weeks. He wants to swallow it back down, this twitchiness, but as Sabo turns his good eye back to him, he tries laughing it off instead.

“Yep.” His brother shrugs, smiling. “Duty calls.” “Hmm.”

Ace had his responsibilities as second division commander, but they so rarely involved paperwork. Everything was hands-on, on the go. Meetings were like rallies or even parties more often than not.

He misses it a lot. It feels wrong to sail under any other flag. But Pops was good at protecting people, and that's something Ace can do. Besides, Sabo is here. Sabo, who still has a way of keeping Ace relatively sane– up until recently, at least. There’s a moment where Sabo catches his withered expression, but neither of them say anything. 

Ace falls back on teasing, hand on hip. “I’m just wondering if you ever get to have any fun is all.” “I have plenty of fun, Ace,” Sabo huffs, “especially when you’re around.” “Oh, yeah?” Ace is fairly sure— Sabo must be thinking of the fun they had a few weeks ago.

They’d saved a coastal town from some shitty pirates, which was already a good time in itself. They went to the tavern to drink– the place had good stuff, on the house for good deeds– went back to a good room– it’s actually pretty foggy from there. The emotions remain more than the specifics.

But he remembers riding Sabo stupid. Lighting the lamps so he could see when the sky went dark. And how pretty he looked, panting, his golden hair haloed on the bed. His bruising grip on Ace’s thighs. The sensation of his cock swelling like he could knot Ace outside of a mating cycle. He remembers Sabo’s face, lost in pleasure– growling, even– eyes scrunched tight, the flash of his white fangs in his open mouth.

He remembers thinking that it was so good. In the morning, though, Sabo was gone. He’d left a note on the nearest surface, in a rough scrawl: gone on mission

S

The total lack of specifics was somehow just like him, so Ace had huffed and climbed back into bed. Half-conscious, he’d searched the sheets for the elusive scent so often trapped beneath Sabo’s stuffy, high-necked outfits. And he tried to pull together soft little shreds of memory from the previous night. He hadn’t meant to ruminate. Just to check. Because no matter how he turned it over in his head, it all still seemed like a dream. And if it had happened, should it have happened at all? They never talked about it. Busy, busy days in the Revolutionary Army. Normal, normal brothers who were still learning each other a year after meeting again. Maybe Ace had made a mistake. All those vivid images were  tiny embers that refused to die– for weeks now, he was plagued with curiosity. Then shame. 

When they first met again, Sabo hadn’t reacted to his second sex beyond a small, almost comical lift of his brows. Ace had been equally cool about it on the outside, and he held himself to that, but the fact that Sabo was an unclaimed alpha had gotten under his skin.

If he was going to be honest with himself, it was posing a real fucking issue. 

Ace had always been on the more impulsive side, but he really thought he smoothed that out– if not in terms of danger, then at least when it came to getting along with people.

Of all people, Sabo should test him the least. 

And it sucks because he doesn’t, really. He and Ace still get on well. Better than well. What he's testing are Ace’s instincts.  Ace had always been able to ignore them in the past, so their constant pounding in his head had surprising power and he ended up blurting out stupid shit like never before. He hadn't even been that clingy when they were kids. He knew and yet the antsy energy remained, dunking his moods and driving him crazy.

“That’s a relief,” Ace says, throwing him his utmost charming, normal smile. Sabo doesn't seem to take it at face value– figures– but past the semi-concerned twitch of his brow, he manages not to fuss over it for about three seconds. 

“I’m glad, too. Are you… is everything good?”

“Everything's good,” Ace assures, a little too quick. The last thing he wants is Sabo looking at him like that.  “Go on, don't be late,” he urges good-naturedly, sending him off with a lazy wave. “You just let me know if you need any countries set on fire or anything, yeah?”

Sabo looks like he wants to ask something else, but they have another half-conscious second of conversation with their eyes. Sabo’s face crinkles slowly into a smile, and he leaves, taking part of Ace's peace of mind along with him. 

*

A week later, Ace visits Sabo in his room. “G’morning,” he yawns, hand on the doorframe. Sabo looks up from his desk– coffee in one hand, paper in the other.

“Ace. Good morning. Where have you been?” Sabo asks, casual enough. 

Ace closes the door behind him and leans against it, nearly clenching his teeth against the nerves in his gut. “Sphinx,” he replies cheerfully. “To visit Pops and Marco.”

Sabo turns away to set his newspaper down. “I see. How's Marco doing?”

“Good,” Ace replies. “He’s on top of things as usual. I just help out here ‘n there.”

The revolution lets him come and go as long as he's smart about it. Well, Sabo lets him come and go. Most of the world still thinks Portgas D. Ace is dead, and the RA thinks he should keep it that way until it's the right moment for a blaze of glory. 

No way that's happening until Ace gets his head screwed on straight again. But it's different when he has to be an omega about it. Show up at Marco’s door like a twitchy stray to ask what the hell his body is doing and how to make it stop. He's got a mind that’s too fond of bad ideas, but this sleep with Sabo or else one is throwing him for a loop. 

First of all, stop taking suppressants, Marco had said, way too coolly. You haven't had a mating cycle in– two years now?

Can't I just sleep with people and get it out that way?

Sorry, Ace. You have to pass a heat. 

Ace had gone quiet then, stomach dropping through the displeasure of it. 

You know, there's ways of making it easier, finding a safe partner…

No, I can handle it. I mean, I'll figure it out. Marco. Thank you.

So there it was. He'd tried to take a vacation from his unreasonable instincts only to find out they had to be confronted.

When he looked at his options, his brain became scrambled eggs. The anger in his heart demanded consolation and so he ended up right at Sabo’s door. 

“Want some?” Sabo asks.

It refreshes his attention, and Ace’s eyes fall upon the mug in Sabo’s elegantly gloved hand. That other kind of hunger stokes cinders inside of him. “Nah. Coffee's gross.”

Sabo smiles against the rim of the cup. “Useful, though.”

“How about we get some food in you down at the mess hall, too?”

Sabo raises his eyebrows. “Wouldn't turn that down. Give me a second.”

Ace glances around while the desk gets organized. “I also wanted to ask a favor.”

Sabo pauses where he's just stood up, and looks over, a little too keen for Ace’s liking. “Yeah?”

“See, I was wondering if I could…” he starts– then shakes his head, laughing at himself. He didn't learn to be polite for Sabo. He comes closer and clasps his hand firmly on Sabo’s shoulder, ignoring the low screech of desire that comes with it. “No, let me start over. Will ya lend me some of your clothes?”

He can't help the light pink flush on his own cheeks, but he's genuinely pleased at how Sabo’s face changes. 

He does the eyebrow lift thing, and his hazel-eyed stare becomes that much more sharp, like this simple question does what the coffee couldn't. Ace likes that he doesn’t look away. But then, he's also at a loss for words, unspoken or otherwise. If they'd never been separated, if Ace wasn't a tough guy and Sabo wasn't a child soldier, this would be an easy script to follow. 

Sabo glances down as if he has to examine what he's already got on. Those tough, tan pants that fall just right and the flouncy undershirt and fitted vest; Ace is vaguely amazed at how well put together he looks when the sun’s not even past the rocky horizon of Baltigo outside. 

“Lend you my clothes?” he repeats. “Here I thought you had such a problem with them.”

Well, yeah, they make Sabo look snooty as fuck and they seem as freeing as a straitjacket, but–

“I do, but nesting’s not about fashion, it's about scents.”

“Oh… that's what you mean?”

Now why is Sabo so alarmed, blushing like a village maiden?

“What?” Ace asks, pinning him with an edgy, somewhat challenging look. He crosses his arms, since Sabo looks like he wants to sink into the floorboards. “Why are you so surprised? Did you think I don't nest?”

“Well, no–”

“I nested even when we were kids. It was like the one normal thing I did.”

Sabo laughs haltingly. “I remember. It's just that you insisted it was for Luffy’s sake–”

“Yeah, we thought it might make him less whiny,” Ace reminds him. What a puzzle that had been. Pups raising pups– that Luffy turned out half-decent was a fucking miracle, and maybe Sabo had more of a hand in it than he did. The angel on his shoulder had a lot more sway when it spoke with Sabo’s voice. Makino had loved the idea of their nesting with the clothes she brought, though. Everyone loved Makino, so if she thought it was a good idea, Ace had figured it was. “I guess I just got in the habit, man. You don’t actually have to give me anything, don’t worry about it.” Bless his heart, Sabo doesn’t let this awful feeling in Ace’s stomach take root.

 “What? No, Ace, I didn’t say you couldn’t have any,” he says quickly, eyes as wide as a skittish woodland creature’s. “Please take something. It just surprised me. Nobody’s ever asked me before.” Ace sits with that for a few seconds. He shouldn’t feel happy that Sabo was deprived of meaningful pack bonds. But he feels light as air knowing that he’s Sabo’s first here, too. “Okay,” he says, grinning. When he catches sight of Sabo’s awkward, half-grimacing expression in turn, he snickers. “Could’ve just stolen some of your clothes to save us the awkward little chat, huh? You have so many, you wouldn’t have even noticed.” Sabo rubs his face between thumb and fingers, flustered. Another stilted laugh bubbles out of him. “No, I mean, sure, if you need something from me, you can have it,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Ace’s smile softens, but it feels like a supernova, a victory. He’s having trouble stripping his eyes away from Sabo, the genuine pleasure on his rosy face. “But I’m glad you asked.” Ace bites the inside of his cheek because he feels like he’s about to start purring and Sabo hasn’t even given him anything yet, hasn’t even touched him. He’s out of joint for sure. “No big deal. Used to nest with Luffy’s clothes, too,” Ace tells him. He wrinkles his nose. “He smells like meat and dirt, though.”

Sabo relaxes. “You love meat and dirt.” “I do,” Ace laughs. “Yeah, Lu smells weird as fuck and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I’ll take your gift too. Much appreciated.” And now that he’s got his consolation prize, Ace yearns to get the fuck out of there. Even if he’s curious about fucking Sabo again– just to check– his upcoming heat is something else. It’s going to be beyond terrible, so much so that he already feels like a sweaty human fireball when it comes to mind, and he honestly doesn’t want to think about it. There’s a reason he hasn’t stopped downing suppressants for two years. Sabo’s clothes and memories of nesting in their treehouse will have to do to ease his fraying nerves. Ace has been through worse, so he should be stronger. He should be stronger. He should pass his heat and then, if possible, have sex with Sabo once more just to get this heavy, cloying attraction out of his system– Ace claps his hands together. “That’s settled, then. Breakfast?”

He needs to do something with his body that isn’t standing here and taking in everything that makes Sabo Sabo. But his brother doesn’t budge or even glance at the door. “When do you need them by?”

 “Hm?” “I mean…” Sabo looks to the wall and back. “It’s soon, right? You stopped taking your suppressants.” Ace frowns, and twists his head over to sniff. “Damn, do I smell rank?” “No, no, you’re fine I think, as long as you don’t go anywhere too cramped or hot…” Sabo’s nose twitches; his mouth thins. “Are you going anywhere?” Ace’s eyebrows jump at the sudden steeliness in his voice. He fixes Sabo with a look on the border of teasing and genuine annoyance. “Sabo, have you never been around an omega or something?” “I have,” Sabo says, somewhat irritably. “Just… older ones, or… subordinates…” “Subordinates,” Ace repeats, teasing. “Well, it’s an army here, Ace, not exactly a family,” Sabo sighs, idly massaging one gloved hand with the other. “But now my brother is about to go through a cycle, so shouldn’t I make sure everything is fine? Are you going back to Sphinx for your heat?”

“Kinda thought I’d just stay here and bolt the door.” Sabo studies his face for a few seconds, then relents, throat bobbing. “Okay. Are you going to need… anything else?” “Well,” Ace starts. He puts his hands on his hips, rocks on his feet. “What’re you offering, Sabo?” Sabo swallows again. Ace almost hears it. Shit, it makes him want to pounce. “Oh.” He shows all his teeth. “I’m low maintenance, promise.” Sabo shakes his head, his smile completely lost on his face. Ace’s head gets foggy and hot and his mouth just starts moving.

“T’ tell the truth,” he admits, “it’s… gonna be a tough one to ride out since I haven’t had one for two years– that’s what Marco said. But it’s short notice, don’t really wanna go through the trouble of finding someone I can trust.” Despite knowing how terrible the heat is going to be– and it’s always worse than imagined– he can hardly think of anything that motivates him less than finding a viable partner out of the blue. The thought has worked like a boomerang, just bringing him memories of Sabo’s hands, arms, lips. Something tells him he shouldn’t trouble his brother with his cycle like this. Something else tells him that nothing in the world would be better. Like Sabo his brother and Sabo an alpha could be different things– and they’re not; Sabo is Sabo. 

Ace the brother and Ace the omega are different things, though, and by the four fucking seas, he should know to keep it that way.  “Are you serious?” Sabo asks. Again with the eyebrows raised way up, his stare both hawkish and disbelieving. Ace’s heart beats like a drum. This is a gamble, he knows. But he’d regret anything less. “Dead serious,” he drawls. Go big or go home, and he’s fearless. He understands very well that he can’t always get his way. Can’t make people want him. He gets that. They do or they don’t. It seemed like Sabo did that first time. In fact, it’s hard to imagine a world where Sabo doesn’t. Kind, loyal, capable, pretty-faced Sabo…

He holds up his hands. “If you don’t wanna, that’s that, but I remember last month– kinda– sorry ‘bout that–” “Don’t be sorry,” Sabo chokes out. Nice of him not to play dumb. Ace nods. “-- it was good! Real good. You’d be helping me out, if you’re up to it.” “Well–” Sabo falters. He shifts his jaw around, looks altogether way too serious, rigid. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Ace.” Ace freezes. “Yeah, you’re right,” his mouth says without his permission. Now his heart’s beating in a bad way. Why’d he say that? Sabo never became a pirate. Maybe he’s not built for that up-front, casual kind of thing– “It’s not that I wouldn’t,” Sabo says with that same hasty voice from earlier. Now Ace recognizes that it’s not an endearing fluster, but a quick course correction meant to coddle Ace, and fuuuuck, he really showed his hand at the worst time.  “I just think– I’m not very available– I couldn’t be any help–” Again Ace’s hand comes down on Sabo’s shoulder. Maybe a little harder this time. “Sabo,” he says heavily, and sucks a deep breath in through his mouth. Sabo shuts up for the duration of his exhale, too, and then Ace smacks his shoulder a few times, grounding them both. “It’s fine. It’s cool. You’re super busy. It’s only a heat. Just forget it.”

Sabo looks more horrified than placated. Damn. Ace is pushing a smile harder than ever before because what else is there to do? Yeah, he’s pissed, but he’d be a prick to take it out on Sabo. 

“Wait, I don't think you understand. It’s not you at all. I just think–” “Yeah, I got it. Not cool of me to spring it on you. Way too short notice. And it’s just a heat,” Ace repeats, also trying to convince himself. His stomach feels like it’s about to mutiny, empty itself of its fat 8am nothing. Like nausea lives there now. 

So Sabo doesn’t want him.

That doesn’t even feel entirely true– But Ace is not going to push it.  No regrets, but also damn him and his bad ideas. Sabo grabs his arm. “Wait, Ace–”

He feels overstimulated and shrugs Sabo off. It takes a few seconds to even formulate a response around his brain mysteriously exploding with something like starvation pains. Sabo looks somewhat heartbroken for him, which is worse. It’s just a heat. Sabo is his own person, obviously. His own person who could probably have anyone other than Ace, what was he even thinking. 

Stalling, Ace ruffles his own hair back into somewhat of a bedhead, and tamps down as hard as possible on what wants to come out. You don’t want me? 

Am I causing problems again?

 Can you just hold me for a while, please, please– “If you feel like you need someone for it, just–” “Damn, don’t put words in my mouth,” Ace manages. He turns on his heel. “‘M hungry. I want food in my mouth. Let’s go get breakfast, Sabo.”

*

They sit across from each other for breakfast in the mess hall. If he’s around, Ace eats there even if Sabo doesn’t; like this, he learns the names of all the dour-faced veterans and bushy-tailed idealists, and they also know not to bug him if he lands face first in his plate. That doesn’t happen today. Sabo sits across from him with that disconcerted look, frowning more than Ace has seen him do in a while– it’s irritating– and Ace stuffs his face like they did not have that conversation. Once his stomach is fuller and he feels stronger, strong enough to hold his instincts at arm’s length again, he reasons that it went as well as it could’ve. Of course he had to ask. Was he just not going to ask? Like a coward? And at least now he knows. Yeah, he feels like a popped bubble or a capsized skiff now, strangled by that rejection in a way he hasn’t been for years, but this time it’s just omega stuff kicked up to eleven. That’s why it feels so beyond his control. 

He’ll get all his hormones sorted with a heat, and then he’ll stop feeling like Sabo’s lost, horny puppy dog. Awesome plan. He slams his bowl down. Sabo’s been talking to some staffers– he really does have his sexy little gloved fingers in everything all the time– and he glances up at the noise. “... No seconds?” “I said I’d help train some recruits today,” Ace informs him, stacking his tray up. Sabo frowns. “Really?” “Yeah– quit that, stop worrying about me.” Sabo takes a deep breath and rubs his neck. “I’m not…” Ace laughs. “Get better at lying. Look, this isn’t my first rodeo, okay? Won't be so bad. And us, we’re fine.” “Of course we are,” Sabo says, and leaves the but hanging in the air.  For now, Ace is fine with that. He whacks Sabo’s shoulder. “See you around?” “Yeah…” 

And the back of Ace’s neck tingles, because he feels eyes on him until the moment he leaves the room. * A nice breeze and a few hours of physical exertion do him good, even if he still feels like a time bomb. At least he can make himself useful until pre-heat starts kicking his ass.  He does indeed see Sabo around. He’s hard to miss at his height, with his stature, having left the top hat behind on this relatively casual day. And casual though it is, he sees Sabo cross from one end of the compound to the other, passing the training yard, no less than four times in six hours. 

Maybe that's not unusual? Except that Sabo stops to look at him every time, arms crossed and not quite focused. 

He's not there when the bell for dinner rings, which raises some questions, but Ace pushes it out of mind. He focuses on the roasted turkey and how he's going to have to ask for heat rations from the cook, who he hasn't quite won over just yet. Maybe in the morning when he’s less sleepy.

He's about to pass out in his room when there's a knock at the door and it opens. Huh. A guy has to question the point of knocking, then. 

“Ace?”

Sabo closes it behind him with his foot, approaches Ace’s bunk– nest half-made and sadly lacking– and waits for him to stand up before holding out a folded set of clothes. Ace can't help the way he perks up at the gift. 

As he reaches for them, Sabo leans in and sniffs. Ace goes still without even meaning to, mechanically closing his hands around fabric. 

“You're getting close.”

“Hi to you, too, Sabo.”

Sabo leans back with a frown. “I really think you should stay in until it starts, Ace.”

“How are you? I'm doing fine, thank you for asking.” 

“Ace.”

His voice is pinched. Briefly Ace traces the shape of his scar again and sighs. 

“I think I've got at least a day or two left ‘til it really sets in and gets, y’know, smelly.”

At age 18 he'd fought off a navy squadron in pre-heat, even, and any pirate in a mile radius knew not to fuck with him. Surely the revolutionary army guys are as disciplined as pirates? 

Sabo apparently doesn't think so. His face darkens. It's tough for Ace not to grin, but he tries. He brings the clothes closer to his chest. Sabo's wearing a whole other prissy outfit– so the ones he brought must've been from today. Ace feels itchy with that knowledge. 

He remembers practically tearing his brothers’ clothes off of them when they were kids, so brashly insistent on tossing them into bed, and laughs a little. Sabo scolded him then, too. 

“I'm not joking, Ace.”

“Obviously not,” Ace says lightly. “I can handle a fever, Sab. You worried about my hot, irresistible pheromones?”

Sabo’s face loosens like a lightning flash before his mouth firms up hard. Ace has the sense he's stepping on something he shouldn't. 

“Yes,” he answers, huffs, and rolls his eyes. “You know, a lot of these people haven't mated in years. If it was anyone but you, I’d probably ask you to use the heat rooms in the infirmary.”

That doesn't make him feel special. He scowls. 

“Don't really wanna be cooped up in any room at all for long,” he edges out. The worst thing is that he trusts Sabo is looking out for him, in his own needlessly intense  way. 

“Please?”

Ace catches the inside of his cheek between his molars.

“I'm telling you, ‘s not even pre-heat yet,” he says. His gland hasn't swollen up, there's no miserable heaviness to his groin, and he still has more than enough energy. So much energy he almost feels like he wants to fight.  

He's so hopeless sometimes. He sits on the bed just to put some space between them, looks dourly at Sabo. 

Sabo's surveying the room. There's a few trinkets, misplaced socks, log pose on the standard issue dresser. He hasn't made a home here, but it's something. 

“I still need to get my hands on some water and food for it,” Ace continues, trying the rational angle.

Sabo shakes his head, tic in his jaw. “I'll take care of that,” he says, and his voice is gentle, reassuring. And Sabo always does what he says he'll do, so. 

Ace frowns though. He feels fidgety, full of tinder sparks. He rubs at his neck, eyes shut. If he hunkers down now, he's just going to be… alone… for a while. And usually that’s no problem.

It's not like this room is a prison cell, but he learned just how slow a few days can pass when there's no one to talk to. He sends another silent thank you to Jinbei for keeping him somewhat more sane for that, but his friends can't do anything about his heat.

It's just a heat.

Sabo says his name and Ace realizes he doesn't know how long he was staring at his lap just now. 

“Ace?” Sabo sounds worried. “You still have your baby snail?”

“…Huh? It's somewhere.” 

“Right. So– that's how we’ll–” Sabo gestures, though he seems confused by exactly what he's doing. He pauses, puts his hands on his hips, and smiles. “You just call me on that when your heat starts.”

Ace’s brow twitches. He's not gonna show that side of himself to Sabo just for shits and giggles. Sabo looks at him and cools down, mouth falling open, smacked with some realization.

“Oh. Right. Sorry, are you still–” Again with the gesturing. “I changed my mind about what I said earlier.”

Ace leans back on the bed, incredulous. His arms are taut behind him. Sabo takes in the line of his body, then looks up. Oh, he's serious. 

“Changed your mind?” 

Sabo nods, all sincere, unflinching eye contact. “Yeah. I can’t just walk around doing business as usual while you're suffering in here. You even told me it was going to be bad. Can't take it lightly.”

Ace hums. Shit, he's getting too used to being saved by his brothers. 

Shaking his head, he pats the stack of clothes. “Couldn't have led with that, chief?” 

Sabo shrugs, smiling helplessly. 

“Will you wait for me?” he asks, voice butter smooth. “I have to get some things ready, and then I’ll be one call away when you feel it coming on.”

“Koala says you never answer your snail.”

Sabo makes a face. “Not fair, she's making generalizations. I can't always answer the snail if I'm sneaking around or fighting–” he takes another breath, pauses. “-- and I won't be– I mean, I'll be right here.”

“So…” Ace looks down. “You want me to hunker down now and just wait for you?”

It seemed like the biggest drag in the fucking world two minutes ago. To himself, at least, he can't deny all the warm, fuzzy feelings dredged up. Sabo also seems happy. They're on the same page again.

“I can bring you some comics tonight?” he offers. Ace laughs. 

He's a world-class wanted man who spent years in the Grand Line, and Sabo thinks he still likes comics? 

He's not wrong. 

“Ehh… just bring me all the papers with stories about Luffy,” he suggests, grinning. The two of them are collecting like crazy. “And the ones about Pops if you got ‘em.”

Sabo smiles. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Excitement grows inside of him. There’s whole-body relief  for the first time in ages. He hates that it's not something he could've accomplished on his own, but– he knows better than that now. 

“Thanks, Sabo.”

Sabo nods. “I’ll take good care of you, Ace, I swear.”

Ace’s ears go hot. He chuckles, looking aside. “You don't gotta say shit like that.” 

“Well, I mean it��“

Ace crashes back into his bed, sprawled over clothes and extra blankets, head tilting back and eyes shut. “I trust you.”

Sabo walks a little closer into his peripheral vision. All serious-faced again. His chip-toothed, wild brat really grew up into a soldier. “Full disclosure, though,” he starts. “I've never shared a heat with anyone.”

“What a surprise,” Ace says breezily. Haha, looks like he's gonna be Sabo’s first again. 

 Sabo doesn't even catch the dig for what it is. Ace clears his throat. “You'll be fine. When was your last rut?” 

“Uh. Not too long ago, actually.” 

Ace looks up at the ceiling, considering that. It means that Sabo’s alpha instincts likely won’t be so intense. Ace isn't sure how he feels about it. He’ll be burning off two years of suppressed heats and also the traumatic stress, according to Marco. 

He worries his lip between his teeth, glances over. “Did ya spend it with anyone?”

He doesn't know why he asked that. 

Sabo sort of stares into the corner of the bed. “Not… really…”

Ace laughs even though he wants to hit something suddenly. “What does that mean?”

“I mean, I didn't,” Sabo says with more certainty. Ace trusts that– and it's not his business, he reminds himself. Sabo’s free, all they ever wanted.  “I didn't share it with anyone. Full disclosure again, I don't like how I get during my ruts.”

Interesting. What does that mean? Ace tongues at the corner of one of his fangs and considers asking. 

He sits up, hunched over his knees. “Sabo. You will be fine. If anyone’s gonna embarrass themselves it's me.” Now that he thinks about it, that's pretty likely. His head dips as if the force of gravity hit it all at once, and he rubs the base of his skull.  “Sorry. I wouldn't bug you with this if it wasn't… believe me, it's just…” 

Something gets caught in his throat. 

“No, Ace, you can always ask.” Sabo is fast to sit down next to him. “I want you to ask.”

“Hey…” 

“You’re my brother,” Sabo says firmly. 

Ace can’t do anything but laugh. That really was one of the best ideas he ever had. He could get half-drunk on it at any time. He lifts his arm for Sabo to cross. Sabo returns the echo of their surprisingly idyllic childhood, then settles back into place, looking rather mindful of… something. That’s the thing with Sabo. He always seems to have a thousand things on his mind, but you can’t guess when or even if they’re going to come up. Ace leans over and nudges his shoulder. “I’d do the same for you if you had a bad cycle,” he swears, “you know that, right? Drop anything to take your knot.”

Sabo’s shoulders shake with his laughter, though it winds down fast and thin. His eyes flit away. “Dude, stop.”

Ace grins, leaning over. 

“Huh, maybe it is starting early…” “Ace, I mean it, please,” Sabo coughs into his hand and then stares at Ace so intently that any playfulness snuffs out. “I need to be prepared for your heat, as much as possible.” Ace blinks a few times. There’s an absurd amount of pomp and circumstance around this. It’s embarrassing, humbling– unexpected. He scoots closer and slaps his hand on Sabo’s back, hard. “Don’t treat it like a chore,” he says cheerfully. “You can have fun, too! I trust ya, and I’m not fragile. I’ve been working on my haki, I could probably kick your ass now–” “That’s not what I mean either,” Sabo says, ruefully shaking his head, but he doesn’t elaborate and Ace is getting sleepy. Sabo pats his thigh and stands up, winding an arm back to loosen up. “Alright, I’ll take care of reading material and the food ‘n water. You’ve got the clothes for nesting. Anything else?” “Nope,” Ace says. He said he was low maintenance and he means it. He shoots finger-guns. “Just you and that dick!” Sabo snorts. Ace tracks his movement and finds himself standing up, walking along to the door. Restless, suddenly. “Good night, Ace.” “Night, Sabo.” They stare at each other. Desire comes to life on the tip of Ace’s tongue. His skin prickles with it.

 Sabo is helping him. It’s too much to ask for anything else– especially not after all of Ace’s insistence that he didn’t even have his pre-heat yet. This isn’t need. Not his health. It’s just wanting. Inexplicable, childish wanting. Now that he’s going, Ace wants him to stay. With his hands, which touch Ace so easily; and his tough, pretty smile; and his scent, like the high canopies of the forest stretching toward the sun. In this stuttering, overborne moment, for once, Ace is unable to get his head around the feeling they’re sharing. There’s a huff– it could be either of them– and then Sabo nods, turns the knob, and leaves. Ace waves. Stands there, processing. When nobody and nothing else so much as crosses in front of his room in the next few minutes, Ace free falls into his privacy– into that clunky bed that’s so much more agreeable when arranged to soothe his instincts. Sabo’s offerings are washed in his scent. Ace buries his face in them. His heat is going to colossally thrash him this year. Now he’s stuck inside this tiny, sterile room for a while, too. And he is so, so lucky. The longer he has his nose to Sabo’s shirt, the luckier he feels.

It’s unfair of him to want more.  -

Sabo comes in the morning with a box of newspapers and a tray of breakfast. He has enough sense to have brought enough for both of them to eat together– they make room to do so on the floor. It’s surprisingly cozy. Ace cheerfully gnaws on toast and downs orange juice while pawing at the pages, eyebrows raised at this or that headline. He always grins whenever he sees “straw hat” emblazoned on the front pages. Sabo has the same enthusiasm, finding Ace first thing to show him whenever something new comes up. It’s been a little while, though.  “D’you think he’s okay,” Ace asks, mouth half-full of apple as he holds up one of the more recent ones. Sabo looks up, slurps the rest of a ham slice into his mouth, pauses. “... Of course he is.” “Uhuh.” Another bite. “Why’d you have to stop and think about it?” “He’s a little reckless, isn’t he?” Sabo notes lightly. “But you said yourself that it always works out for him.” He did say that. It does seem a little suspect though. Ace runs his hand back through his hair again, frowning. He knows Luffy is much bigger and stronger than he used to be. He’s reliable, in his own way. His friends will take care of him. All things that Ace has thought to himself any number of times, with increased frequency in the last few weeks. He can’t wait to start walking himself back from the edge. 

“Hey, it’s perfectly natural for an older brother to worry,” says Ace. “Sure is. Do you wish he was here?” “Yeah, a little,” Ace admits, since it’s Sabo– then he immediately thinks better of it. “Well. No, he should be out there becoming King of the Pirates, yeah?”

One-handed, he shifts some of the pages aside to find a picture of Luffy– well, a picture of Luffy’s wacky limbs splayed across the sky in some foreign land. How can you not root for him? When he glances up, Sabo’s smiling just the same as he is. “Yeah, of course,” Sabo replies. “You know… you know we can call him, right? Well, call the Sunny to talk to him.” Ace huffs. “What’s he gonna say? It’ll be the same as always. That kid....” He takes a deep breath. “We’ll see him when we see him.” “Alright, well, if I call him I’ll say you’re busy–” “Hey, if you’re gonna call him anyway, that’s different–” Sabo snickers. Ace starts cleaning up, annoyed again that Sabo has to play errand boy for him until his heat starts kicking his ass. “How are you feeling?” Sabo asks, setting the box of newspapers aside. “Fine–” Ace pauses when he feels Sabo’s bare hand on his forehead. He squints at him critically, an incredulous joke on his lips, but again, Sabo’s so intense at random times. It’s less work to just let him tire himself out. “You know,” Ace reminds him, gently lowering his hand, “you can’t really check my temperature ‘cause of the whole–” Sabo almost squawks when Ace makes use of his logia from the shoulders up, torn into red and orange flames licking the still air, then settling back into flesh. Sabo blinks at him, annoyed, while Ace gets his laugh in. 

ummmm ur honor i love them. anyway yeah the idea is like. ace in heat is very Not low maintenance and wait. this:

Ace in heat was boldly confrontational, glaring at Sabo like that.

 He started up with I’m sorry only to realize that Ace was channeling all that mysterious ire at his mouth– or, no, at the dull, thin bars of the alpha muzzle strapped over it. 

“You going to keep the gloves on, too?” Ace asked scathingly.

“Do you want me to?”

“No.”

instead of finishing the rest of this fic can't i just.. RP it or smth...