#worst they can do is fire me which would also destroy me mentally but then I'd be free from their specific flavour of stress and panic
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I actually got an answer! (635 pm)
unfortunately now I've still got the shaking to deal with
i think it's bc i expect them to focus so hard on my numbers, and i worry abt dropping too low, but then i go So Hard and worry myself like this before every shift
bc like. it's 50 calls an hour minimum, and in theory i can meet that while not pushing myself to go overboard, but i worry just meeting that won't be enough
im trying to give myself permission to half ass tonight as well (with the logic of they barely half ass communicating with me and my coworkers, so surely im safe to do my version of half assing, which was once described by a former coworker as 'still mostly full assing it tho, dude') and i just can't. anyone else, yes, half ass it, dial but don't lose your shit over it, try to chill even as you call, but for myself? nope, can't convince myself that's allowed
i know things will be fine but for rn my brain is So Overwhelmed and So Scared and Very Stupid (isnt it always at least a little lmao) and im. wanting to work bc Need Money but not wanting to bc Everything Else Abt the Job
why can't i just do things right without all this extra effort and worry. other ppl can. but I can't, no matter what i do or how hard I try.
#text post#it's whatever i work a double tonight and it's fine it'll be fine bc even if i drop lower#worst they can do is fire me which would also destroy me mentally but then I'd be free from their specific flavour of stress and panic#but then I'd still have the Money Issues flavour and it isn't like one more paycheck from them will solve all that (i wish lmao)#but at the same time god my brain is ON FIRE someone pls make it stop#i didn't start edibles until abt 1 today so i know im edging up on the next dose but like. if im like this now#partially stoned at least how much can the poor weed do to fight against my panicking brain#i just need like a page job at a library again pls someone pay me to shelve shit and pull books and be quiet
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13. Lockpicks
So I had to do this one but it ended up not really being about Woljif. Thanks again to @starlightcleric for the Owlcatober 2022 challenge!
***
“The little bard is also a comedian.” Shamira did not look entertained. “You want me to believe you killed Vellexia?”
Siavash drew out the amulet he’d taken from the ancient succubus’ corpse. “It was a team effort.”
Flames roared up behind her. “And what did you find out for me? Speak, but not in front of these fools. Use your mind instead of your lying, flapping lips.”
The heat was unbearable, rising from the floor and warping the air, flames leaping up the walls and boiling on the ceiling. Worst of all were the two searing eyes he could not drag his gaze from. They filled his vision and burned into his skull.
Yet he held his ground. “For the Lady in Shadows’ right hand, it’s surprising how much you don’t know.”
Her minions turned their eyes toward him eagerly. Was Shamira about to get taken down a peg?
“You will tell me everything,” said the red-haired angel—or what was once an angel, now twisting in flaming rage above him.
Trapped in her gaze, he felt hot fingers in his mind—no, claws—digging and scraping, peeling back the skin of his thoughts to expose the raw nerves underneath.
Sweat ran down his face. It was hotter than that Worldwound day when they’d found the haunted city. They destroyed the vescavor queen with fire. Then they went down to the Sellen to cool off and he’d stripped to his linens and very nearly stepped out of those too, when he noticed Woljif turn his face away—
“Hold still!” screeched her voice in his head.
“Great gods, will you sit still for five minutes, Si!”
“I thought of a new song, Da. Can I just play it one time so I don’t forget?”
“No. Arpeggios first, compositions second. You—”
“Can I go outside?”
Then he was outside in the eccentric old Desnan beekeeper’s garden down by the Andoshen, and she was showing him and the other children how to make butterflies out of clothespins and scraps of silk.
She used to read dreams. He loved her to read his dreams so much that when he couldn’t remember any he’d make some up. She probably knew, but she read them anyway and gave him honeycombs and called him Lark because he loved to climb and sing.
All the while, Shamira worked away, and his mind slipped out of her searing fingers down the winding paths of childhood. A child’s dreams—welcome respite from the ardent nightmares of this place. He gritted his teeth against Shamira’s discordant mental screams of frustration.
So hot—so cold—
Tumbling down the mountainside in deep snow with his friends that one year at camp they got caught in a storm and thought they were going to die trapped overnight in a shepherd’s cabin. Was he going to die trapped in the Abyss? Or would they awaken to sunlight, perfectly alive, and run out flushed and laughing as if all the night’s terrors were already forgotten?
She was poking deeper now. Hooked metallic scraping like Woljif’s lockpicking tools, prodding and swiveling, pushing over the tumblers of his memory. He felt one start to give.
Nahyndrian crystals—
No. When they got out of the Abyss.
When they got back to Drezen, which of course they would—he was more and more sure of it—the first thing he’d do after a bath and a party at the Half-Measure would be to head to the Insula with Woljif and lie on the roof and look at the stars together, and then…
“What did you discover? Tell me, you insolent maggot!” Shamira’s scream pierced through his thoughts. She was so close now. Woljif said the trick was to hold one tool at just the right angle to keep the first tumblers from falling back into place while you turned over the last one. Ha, that was the trick—she couldn’t keep up the pressure on his wandering thoughts while she tried to unlock his memory. Her grip began to falter.
…and then they would bundle together in Woljif’s kip (and he was not sharing that part with Shamira) and he would become an outlaw, the ex-Commander and his Merry Band, rogues and vigilantes of the Worldwound: no more council meetings, no more paperwork, just them against the demons, freeing prisoners, healing the wounded, returning life and joy to the remnants of Sark—
Boiling, seething hatred exploded in his mind. He tore his eyes away and squeezed them shut. His eyelids felt blessedly cool. Shamira’s spell was broken. She withdrew her psychic torture implements and screamed aloud in rage.
“Get out. Get out!”
#pathfinder wrath of the righteous#pathfinder wotr#pathfinder#woljif jefto#wotr commander#owlcatober 2022#fanfic
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[destroys your window to perch on the windowsill] Hello there, you sleep rather soundly for a murderer. Answer me 6, 8, 32 and 35, and I will leave this perch . . . . .
Please don’t hurt me! I only murdered Ancano and the Thalmor bastard had it coming! I’ll answer your questions. Just give me a moment to find some paper…
6. Does your Dragonborn favor melee, ranged weapons or magic? A mix of all three, or maybe none?
Dahlia prefers a mix of melee weapons and magic. Once in a while she’ll pull out a bow, but it isn’t her favorite way to deal with things. Swords and axes are her favored melee weapons, which she favors most of the time, but if she is dealing with other mages or dragons, she will throw some Destruction spells to do more damage (Fire or Shock). However, her favored form of combat is a sword in one hand and Restoration magic in the other. She doesn’t like to bother with shields because they hold her back.
8. Is your Dragonborn religious? Who's their favored god/god/pantheon?
Dahlia is indeed religious, but she isn’t one of those types who will shove what she believes down your throat (she respects the beliefs of others). She has three favored Gods, although she has been known to pray to each one on occasion: Talos, Mara, and her dear “father” Akatosh. Talos is her first and most favored God, who gives her strength and courage. Lady Mara is very special to her as a Restoration mage. And well, Akatosh she mostly yells at angst-ily like a teenager: “What do you want from me, dad?!”
32. How does your Dragonborn view the gods, daedra and deities? How do they view the Dragonborn?
Depends on which one we are talking about. Mostly she views the deities as Gods she can pray to for favor, strength, and mental fortitude when necessary. However, there are times (kind of like I mentioned earlier with Akatosh) where she likes to question them and wonder: Why me? …Or something like that.
As for the daedra, she doesn’t want to mess with that stuff. Most of them are evil at worst, and self-serving at their best. She is aware that there are other races who have daedra they worship (such as the Dunmer), and she doesn’t hold it against them. She will listen politely and with interest when Narile talks of Azura, but she isn’t converting any time soon.
The Legend of the Dragonborn is something all Nords grow up hearing and even playing at when they are younger. To actually be the Dragonborn…well, that was quite the shock for poor Dahlia. (She was disbelieving for a short time as it was surreal to her.) However, as she has been on her journey, she has discovered something very important: at the end of the day, the Dragonborn is just a person.
35. How many scars do they carry, be they mental or physical?
You had to hit me with one of these hard questions, didn’t you? Sigh. Dahlia has plenty of scars, both mental and physical. There are assorted scars on her arms and legs, and even a bite mark on her left shoulder from a particularly nasty run in with a dragon. But I would have to say that the nastiest scars she has are on her back from her short imprisonment with the Thalmor…which is where some of her mental scars come from as well. She didn’t spend too long of a time in captivity with them, but any amount is too much. You might also say she carries around some other mental scars from her experiences as a child. (Dad had a bit of a drinking problem at times, and some of the children she grew up with were not particularly nice to her.)
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((Welp, teh job search has destroyed my soul so hopefully Knightfall won't hit me too hard. We did the Prelude... forever ago time to start things for real.))
...Mad Hatter has a pet chimp? ...okaaaaayyyyyy
Oh and Hatter knows he's being watched cause he's still intelligent under his delusion so yup, Bane's lackeys are getting tracked now I guess
Does brainwashing and other forms of mind control generally work like that? Probably not. Does it still make Hatter creepy as fuck because he does in fact know how the brain works? Yes. I hate him.
Tim in a fight with a chimp. This is fine
Cool that's Hatter dealt with
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Maxie Zeus... don't know that name... and ventriloquist missing Scarface this is... mkay
And someone called Amygdala... *Jesus you're huge*
Tim very unhappy with the dead body by Bane's apartment
-Inhale... Exhale...- I'm all for showing grace to the neurodivergent and mentally ill but for the love of God, these specific people are in fact very dangerous because they kill with intent to do so
Oh! Oh Tim spotted a falcon! He knows that's a problem!
Okay but that face tho. You good, Tim? Looking a little maniacal there
Oh wonderful, Zsaz is being dealt with next issue
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Oh. *Oh i hate him* Loathe. Utterly despise.
Jesus Bruce is super jumpy. Understandably so but don't strangle Tim, fuck!
Cool Gordon's job is on the line but then again, this Mayor sucks
Okay I would like to never see Zsaz again, he's horrible no thanks please stop existing
And uhhhh Bruce isn't doing too well. Which is a shame cause obviously I know this ends with Bruce getting his back broken
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Bruce is still not doing well and Tim is still following Bane and tyring to tell Bruce this
Oooohhhhh no, TIM BEHIND YOU
Okay unharmed but blindfolded and bound. Not a great situation but could be sooooo much worse
Yeha good job Tim make the guy mad! You can't see, how are you supposed to land on that tiny ledge safely?!
Aaaaaand now Croc's here and he's pissed but at least he can see now
Cool, drowning in a sewer this is fine!
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Okay Tim's gotten himself out of his problem
Aaaaand Joker's partnering up with someone
Oh and Bruce's therapist is starting to get too close. That's not good, lady, you know that
Cornelius Stirk. New name. And he apparently has a hypnosis thing going on and something about historical figures? And also who Joker visited earlier
Oh okay Gordon's job and life are in danger and Joker and Scarecrow are talking and I hate everything about this
Cool Gordon's wife still hates Batman and the mayor is getting spooked and Scarecrow and Joker teaming up is The Worst, keep them well apart in the future thanks
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Oh wonderful, no guards, Gordon's getting blamed for everything and Firefly is out and about and the fire service has been cancelled and are probably gonna strike!
Oh for the love of- Tim knows how weak you are rn! He's not blind or stupid!
Good! Split the work! Let Tim help! Jesus fucking Christ. I'd alos say take a break but Gotham is about to completely collapse and there's still Bane to worry about
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Well that cover implies that Poison Ivy is showing up
Oh good, Azrael's out and about *without telling anyone*
Bane has immediately figured out Bruce too... shit
So now everyone's figured out that the Mayor is missing and have gone to find it and that it's clearly the Joker behind this. Haven't figured out Scarecrow yet
Cool, Ivy's dealt with
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Welp, Riddler is back on his bullshit
Oh and Firefly is still being a prick
"Your problems don't matter. You don't matter." And that's exactly why *you're in the middle of burnout you utter baffoon!*
I really hate that one detective who's always smoking and eating donuts rather than doing anything helpful
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Oh I *do not* like this cover
Cool, explosive ice cream, why not
And Bruce walked right into a trap and now he's been dosed with fear toxin and is seeing Jason dying
"Just a boy good at heart, more brave than a man... too brave to become a man. Just a boy, his parents felled in blood, his own life ripped and torn from the world he protected. Just a boy but never to breathe, speak or move again. Just a boy, but far too brave to face the stark lurid madness of a grinning killer. Just a boy-dead- but to his killer nothing more than a sick joke! Just a boy but forever gone." Bruce's thoughts and the entire time he's screaming Jason's name while punching the beating the absolute shit out of Joker.
So Joker and Scarecrow are escaping and then Bruce has hte Mayor... please get a better Mayor, this guy was an ass
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Cool, got the Mayor out and he might actually be okay with Batman's existence now
Aaaaannndddd Bane's people are attacking Batman. Cool. Great. Awesome
OH
OH HE DID *NOT*
FUCK YOU, I DON'T CARE IF YOU DIDN'T KILL HIM, YOU DON'T TOUCH ALFRED
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Yup there it is. Thrown all over his Manor and Cave and his back broken and that's volume 1 done... fuuuuuucccckkk... I'm gonna chill for a couple more hours and head back home adn then get through volume 2 tomorrow
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03/29/24
i told my ex gf that i fucked the bitch that she hates. total fucking idiot move i don't know why i did that! on multiple levels it was a shit idea
1. fucking the they/them she hates was a fucking bad idea. having sex is still difficult and uncomfortable for me, and i wasn't able to have sex with them for very long. i only really did it because they're moving away and i wanted to hatefuck them while i had the chance. it's not like we weren't trying to fuck each other the entire time we know one another anyways. it was more of a mental thing but i wasn't able to deliver physically which was pretty embarrassing. wasn't the worst i guess
2. my ex hates this person because they slapped my ex on the ass at our shared workplace then got themselves fired. this happened probably around a year ago. so not only does my ex hate them, but the rest of my coworkers do too. and now they are likely to feel that anger towards me
3. i told my ex about the sex because i felt bad about it. but my ex still has strong feelings towards me, and feels incredible jealously when they are made aware of aspects of my sex life. so now because i felt guilty, i made my ex feel incredibly bad. that's probably the worst part of this all honestly. i don't know what i thought was going to happen, but she's really fucking upset and it makes me feel even worse lmao!!!! she told me she wasn't going to try and be my friend anymore because i weaponize details like this to hurt her. which feels true. i think there's a reason why i told her that i don't understand. we will come back to this in a moment
4. i told her at work and she stormed off and now my boss is also pissed
ok back to point 3- rationally i knew that telling her would be a massive shitshow that wouldn't make me feel any better and would fuck up everything. why the fuck did i tell her? i think deep down there's a part of me that needs drama or self-destruction or something. i think there's a part of me that hates the happiness of others and wants to see it destroyed. i really can't wrap my head around it any other way. what the fuck is my problem?
i used to have really bad anger issues when i was a kid. it was really difficult for me to control my emotions. this tapered off but never really left until like. honestly. 2 years ago??? i used to have insane mood swings and when i stopped doing drugs they went away. when i feel anger now, i am able to control it better and not use it as an excuse to hurt people. i can recognize when i'm in a bad spot. i didn't feel anger when i told my ex the truth. i didn't feel anything. i just did it and was immediately forced to grapple with the consequences. am i even in control of all parts of my mind??? sometimes it really feels like i'm just running without any thought.
i've been thinking about this a lot recently. it really makes me want to puke.
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People around me always leave and I'm learning to make peace with it.
You know my biggest fear?
It's not people leaving.
It's that part of me somehow knows.
Part of me knew it the last time I chatted with my best friend who told me "we'd never drift apart because we'll always figure it out."
She moved to another country after that, we promised to keep in touch, but she gave signals indicating she wanted to have a completely fresh start after being held up all her life in the shithole we grew up in. There was no explanation, no closure, neither of us ever reached out. And every now & then, I think of her but I know our roles in each other's lives ended long ago.
I had an instinct that my "farewell" was an actual farewell, like the foreboding you get when you see the veins in the petal of a flower growing greener in wake of its wilting. But when that hunch turned true, I felt betrayed & awkward ... initially. I've seen people do this. I've done it myself to someone else but we got back together after a few years and now I kinda know how they must've felt.
Sometimes humans walk away not because they hate you or love you less.
It might also be because we just focus so much on our own journeys, especially when moving cities, forgetting that we're not mutually exclusive cars traveling on roads but rather droplets of water up in the clouds, with the fingers of our molecules woven tightly more & more with every second we spend knowing each other.
So when we choose different directions out of nowhere, we stretch out other droplets that have become part of our stories, into painful positions. And sometimes, the cloud breaks into tears.
Understand this harsh reality - you cannot avoid displacing others when you're growing. And others cannot avoid hurting you when they grow (they may not even intend it).
Growth is painful for everyone involved.
You cannot just "leave" people, even if it is for good mental health reasons or because you've outgrown them (which is totally acceptable). Thing is, you are people. And people are you.
Every song I have on my playlist is connected to the place I first heard it (I don't know how I can remember them all but I do). And many times those places have been faces of people breaking into grins as they realise I'm liking the tastes they're introducing me to.
What am I supposed to do after these folks have left? Disassociate? Detach? Forget, forgive, move on? I wish it was that easy.
I listened as a special someone tell me recently over call that they don't like me the way they thought they would and I should look elsewhere. Like it's a job and I'm being fired. What is one exactly supposed to do when one hears that?
The worst part is, I knew it this time, too. As I stood in the lift with them weeks ago, giving them a farewell hug before they flew off for the holidays, my heart told me it would be the last time I get to be with them.
I wish I acted on it. I wish I hugged them a little longer and tighter. I wish I made them make some sort of a promise.
But you can't "make" people like you or stay around if they don't want to. And until recently, I used to feel so helpless, anxious and emotionally naked whenever it hit me that I cannot predict the time horizons of most of my relationships.
What these experiences have taught me is that building a relationship, romantic or platonic or professional, has very little to do with love or intensity. Because I know for sure that I loved and gave everything authentically in every relationship that was destroyed for some reason.
Love is an emotion. It comes and flows and goes. It can change, just as people do.
Relationships are an equation of comfort divided over phases of change. To organisms that are constantly changing, which is you and me, comfort can mean giving each other healthy space, trusting judgements, co-operating, being honest and reliable, making yourself available, supporting their dreams, knowing what they like and delivering more of it, being OK about each other's tastes & priorities getting re-arranged over the years, etc.
But at the end of the day, comfort means comfort only yes. And this comfort is also a variable - it changes unequally for different people. Some of us grow out of the zone, willingly or because life tells us we must, while it may have become home for the other half.
Some of us with commitment issues panic when we see that home taking shape so we take premature evasive methods, thinking that it'll be easier if things end before they settle down. But I've spent just a few hours with people and loved them so much, so this stupid idea of time spent together being equal to how close we're with someone completely knocks me out.
If people around us always seem to leave, maybe it's because we look at them as entries & exits? So in response, we either clamp up into ourselves or let bitterness take over.
The problem with seeing relationships as events with beginnings and endings is that it assumes that the characters in it will always stay the same.
Never happens! I will be a different person next year, and a completely different one in a decade by the power of compounding. You will be, too.
I've been with friends who've been four different people over the duration I've known them for. The only reason I think I stuck by is that maybe those changes have aligned with mine or what I think are good for both of us.
This doesn't happen all the time. Sometimes we change against the favour of those who we love. And so we grow apart. That's completely okay.
Maybe for just a moment, if we allow ourselves to just get hurt & grieve in the unfairness of how we're built rather than trying so hard to keep everything together, then maybe it'll hurt for a shorter time.
I am telling myself I met a version of someone when they were perfect for me at that point of time and vice versa. And we're no longer those people because so much has happened so fast. And even if we said so many hurtful things that day, maybe all we were trying to say is that we miss each other an awful lot and we're afraid of it meaning something.
I am learning to let myself get to know people without making up plans for them. I'm learning to build new friendships without feeling the burden of having to maintain them forever.
I am learning to normalize missing someone without feeling guilty about it. We can miss people who hurt us, too, because we miss the parts of them that helped us heal at that point.
It will hurt less once you understand that every person you've met and are about to meet, is a droplet swinging from cloud to cloud, pouring down on hills that hold caves within. You can be interlinked with so many people but are never bound or dependent on them. You'll be fine on your own when it's dawn. Your relationships will always be fluid and unpredictable, their only goal is to give you the chance to craft layer after layer in the caverns of your soul.
People will leave because people are not contracts. And even contracts fall apart.
So go ahead & listen to the songs they liked and let the tune make you feel whatever it is.
Cherish the memories you made. Learn from the mistakes. Rather than trying hard to move on and put things behind, collect the memories and find your strength in keeping them close.
Lastly, every time you feel you're getting more & more broken with every person who leaves, and fear that you will become completely incapable of loving by the time you meet someone actually worthy, just remember that many times, a string of broken seashells can be the most beautiful ornament from the beach.
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Ok so I’m into the dreamer trilogy and haven’t read the Raven cycle...what is Declan’s characterisation/journey there?
THIS MIGHT BE THE BEST ASK I’VE EVER RECEIVED. IMAGINE I’M STANDING WITH MY ARMS SPREAD USING DIFFERENT VOICES AND HAND GESTURES TO REENACT THIS STORY FOR A RESENTFUL CAPTIVE AUDIENCE
also declan’s TRC storyline is like. equal parts horribly fucking sad and unbelievably fucking hilarious so. i will try to strike a Balance
FIRST OFF. there is exactly one (1) declan POV chapter in the entire series. it happens toward the end of the last book. up until then, everything we know about him comes from the observations and narration of others.
he is also a very minor character. his importance grows throughout the series, but almost all of his actions happen offscreen. it’s not until the last book that we know exactly how much he’s been dealing with the whole time.
when he’s introduced in the first book, he appears as a plot device. here is a two-dimensional horrible controlling hardass who doesn’t give a shit about anything but his future political career. look at his fake, smug fucking grin. how did someone like ronan end up with a brother like him?? doesn’t matter. it’s a convenient excuse for ronan to live with his best friend in a drafty warehouse, which means more room for YA hijinks!
declan’s introduction scene is Embroiled in Capital-D Douchebaggery. according to the narration (from gansey and adam), he loves to fuck women and then never call them back, cozy up to powerful people, and bitch about how ronan’s ruining his life by being sad about their dead parents. SOME people can just get over their dead parents, ronan!
this intro scene is also Extremely Funny i 100% recommend reading it even if u don’t read the actual series. ronan makes a nasty comment, declan goes “why are you the way that you are” and tries to salvage his date, gansey utters the phrase “man whore”
then later that night things go like. actually bad.
declan shows up at the same pizza place where ronan is with his friends. this scene is gansey pov. gansey runs out to the parking lot to find the two of them Very Literally Trying To Kill Each Other. you don’t see that violence in cdth - there’s only the TINIEST shadow of it when declan confronts ronan over matthew - so i Cannot Express Enough that someone is going to end up hospitalized at BEST. ronan’s already slammed declan’s head on the car, declan’s already grabbed ronan and beaten the shit out of his face, like.
you do not get good old-fashioned Declan Lynch At His Actual Worst in cdth. u might be thinking, THAT guy???? doing THIS????
oh yeah. things are real bad between declan and ronan.
after gansey breaks up the fight (and gets punched in the face for his trouble, albeit accidentally), declan tells ronan that their dad would be fucking ashamed to see him now & that he’s washing his hands of it & basically if ronan wants to go off and fucking die, he can.
this is like. just a couple months after the magical suicide attempt referenced in cdth
in the aftermath of that scene it becomes clear that ronan absolutely unequivocally 100% will kill himself if he has to live with declan. hence. why he’s living with gansey instead. gansey spends that whole night petrified that the declan altercation will lead to another attempt, and for Good Reason
so like, that’s how we first meet declan. he’s an uncaring wannabe corporate asshole who does not give a fuck and who only exists to exacerbate ronan’s mental health issues.
but then the opening of book 2 gets real interesting.
book 2 is where we start learning more about the lynch family. we learn that ronan’s father was a dreamer who sold his creations on the black market, we learn that that’s why he was murdered. we learn that ronan’s a dreamer too. we learn that there are very powerful people looking for the greywaren, an artifact that takes objects from dreams. those powerful people just don’t realize it’s a person, yet.
so here’s the assassin who killed niall lynch.
he goes to declan’s dorm.
with everything we know about declan, the kid should be completely unprepared. he can box, but the assassin knows that, so there’s no real advantage. he’s alone, and he doesn’t have an escape route.
declan pulls out a gun.
this is an unexpected turn of events.
unfortunately he ends up getting beaten half to death with the butt of said gun, because he loses the ensuing physical struggle for the weapon. the assassin is like, i need the greywaren. declan is like, i know it exists but i don’t know what it is. i’ll find it for you. i’ll get it to you. then you’ll leave me the fuck alone
now with everything we know of declan at this point - his attitude toward ronan, his general demeanor, and this new knowledge that he knew about the black market - there’s one obvious question.
will declan sell ronan out if he finds out about the dreaming.
and like, okay. their relationship is antagonistic in cdth but it is NOT what it is in trc. believe me when i tell you that at that point, when you’re reading, you can pretty reasonably go, “oh, god. oh god. oh god please no one ever tell declan what the greywaren is. oh god.”
declan has some other interactions with ronan and the gang throughout the book, mostly where he’s just a hardass who tells ronan to stop causing trouble. adam’s the only one who notices that declan is scared. like bone-deep shaking to the core petrified. about Something.
probably getting beaten to within an inch of his life by the man who murdered his father. that’s the reasonable reader conclusion.
so imagine how everything changes when you find out that declan already knows. that declan’s known about ronan’s dreaming for longer than ronan has. that declan knew exactly what and who the greywaren was, and he lied to a man who was ready to torture him for information, and he got away with it.
suddenly a lot of things recontextualize.
“keep your head down and stop making trouble”? people are gonna NOTICE your magic bullshit, ronan, we do not have time for this!
“stop hanging with that loser druggie friend of yours”? you mean the loser druggie friend who sells on the magic black market and doesn’t care about protecting himself or anyone else?
“i got super weird for no reason about ronan sleeping close to adam”? i don’t have fucking TIME to be homophobic i’m busy with your POTENTIAL TO MANIFEST NIGHT TERRORS IN FRONT OF WITNESSES IN BROAD DAYLIGHT
“i’ll find out what the greywaren is and bring it to you”? i’ll die. i’m making a bargain to die. i’m never giving you the greywaren and i know you’re going to kill me about it and that’s fine as long as my brothers are safe
ronan doesn’t know that he dreamed matthew. declan knows. he’s known the whole time. declan tells ronan in book 3. and then things recontextualize even further, because ronan’s death is also matthew’s, and matthew IS close to declan in trc.
but declan never tells the goddamn truth unless it’s his last option. he doesn’t tell ronan that he knows about the dreaming and he doesn’t tell ronan what specifically wants to hurt him and the lack of communication fucking destroys both of them.
in the last book, ronan realizes declan loves him.
more than that, he realizes declan’s loved him the whole time.
this is when declan finally tells the truth. things are getting bad, plot-wise, and declan is scared, so he comes clean. he tells ronan that niall specifically tasked declan with protecting ronan from the market. he begs ronan to run from the danger. “let’s pour gasoline on everything dad left and start over.”
this is also when ronan realizes that declan’s childhood was very different from ronan’s own. and that niall and aurora lynch were not the same people to declan that they were to ronan. and that their father’s decisions are what’s driven the wedge between him and declan all this time
(he’s still struggling with the cognitive dissonance of this in cdth. i don’t think he knows how to adjust his perception of declan to fit this new information.)
aaaaand the final scene with declan makes me cry every time i read it so instead of summarizing, here’s the important part:
Ronan delivered a sharp tap to the object, and a small cloud of fiery orbs sprayed up with a sparkling hiss.
“Jesus, Ronan!” Declan jerked his chin away.
“Please. Did you think I’d blow your face off?”
He demonstrated it again, that quick tap, that burst of brilliant orbs. He tipped it into Declan’s hand, and before Declan could say anything, jabbed it to activate it once more.
Orbs gasped up into the air. For a moment, he saw how his brother was caught inside them, watching them soar furiously around his face, each gold sun firing gold and white, and when he saw the spacious longing in Declan’s face, he realized how much Declan had missed by growing up neither dreamer nor dreamt. This had never been his home. The Lynches had never tried to make it Declan’s home.
“Declan?” Ronan asked.
Declan’s face cleared. “This is the most useful thing you’ve ever dreamt. You should name it.”
“I have. ORBMASTER. All caps.”
“Technically you’re the orbmaster though, right? And that’s just an orb.”
“Anyone who holds it becomes an ORBMASTER. You’re an ORBMASTER right now. There, keep it, put it in your pocket. D.C. ORBMASTER.”
Declan reached out and scuffed Ronan’s shaved head. “You’re such a little asshole.”
The last time they’d stood on this roof together, their parents had both been alive, and the cattle in these fields had been slowly grazing, and the world had been a smaller place. That time was gone, but for once, it was all right.
The brothers both looked back over the place that had made them, and then they climbed down from the roof together.
#long post#REALLY long post#i haven't reread this so excuse any incoherence#trc#trc meta#not really but??#suicide /#declan lynch#i love my idiot son#replies#Anonymous
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Abourt Rei Himura and BNHA Chapter 301
Now that I've read the official release of chapter 301 I can finally try to gather my thoughts. I think this time the particular rendition of dialogues and inflections provided by Caleb Cook is more crisp and clear than usual, especially in throwing "shade" upon Endeavor as a father figure. But let's do things in order...
Title: THE WRONG WAY TO PUT OUT A FIRE - a simple, but stark message that doesn't leave space for ambiguity. There was a fire, an imminent tragedy that could and should have been avoided, but whoever tried to fix it, did it all wrong and now we have to deal with a huge arson.
CARLESS HANDLING OF FIRE, on the other hand, doesn't quite cut it for me, because it seems like everything was caused by a foolish mistake. "I was carless and now I'm in a pinch"- type of situation, while it's perfectly clear that Endeavor and Rei decided purposefully which "strategy" to use with Touya. A BAD one to say it lightly. Rei's contribution and complicity is debatable, of course, and I'll touch on this later.
Let me get this clear though: I'm not trying in any way to critique the hard work of unofficial translators. I can't say anything relevant because I'm not a translator in the first place (I can barely understand English and my native language on a good day) and also because I am so grateful for everything they do in order to give us really good material FREE OF CHARGE basically a second after the release in Japan. I'm just interested about the different shades of subtext we can catch if we read the story through multiple filters. Every translation is unique because it carries the personal spin of the author even if the bias should be inexistent or ideally undetectable...
However, back to the chapter
REI'S CAGE
The first scene opens on a luxurious classic Japanese villa, with Enji, Rei and her parents discussing the motivation behind Enji's proposal. Or at least we initially think that's what's going on... Because in reality Rei's family couldn't care less about the motivation. Everything these people see is a wealthy, famous guy the next number one hero ready to take their daughter in marriage. I guess the Himuras are pretty broke, thight on cash, their old prestige is definitely gone and all they can do to save themselves from shame and poverty is "to sell" their only remaining asset.
During the whole ordeal, Rei is standing still, silent, cold as ice. She knows she doesn't really have a choice. How mortifying and sad is this? An adult, capable woman has no agency whatsoever, she is used again and again and she stoically accepts this treatment from every single dominant figure in her life until she can't be stoic anymore. I really hope Horikoshi's going to give her a much more proactive role in saving her family and it seems the narrative wants us to expect this type of character development.
I'd like to point out 2 panels in particular:
First one
In this scene the Todorokis are back from their trip to the doc, who clearly said they shouldn't try to conceive a child with a perfect quirk mix because it is dangerous (and morally questionable too). Rei understands this fact and tries to dissuade Enji, but he doesn't listen, because he's projecting all his pent-up resentment and frustration onto Touya. He knows how it feels to crush against an unbreakable wall, since he can't surpass All might and his son can't too. He had to learn this truth the hard way, so Touya needs to do the same. Enji is purposefully throwing upon his son years of failures, self consciousness and despair, just because the boy has to get it into his thick skull that he is a dud, just like his father. This is not a hopeless dad making a mistake bona fide, this is a broken man trying to destroy his self reflection by proxy, annihilating everything Touya is, swiping the kid's identity under the rug. He describes his son's dreams and sadness as something birthed from stubbornness. He is auto-convincing himself however (because Endeavor is not stupid). A little bit later he's basically saying: "Touya let's play make believe! We can go on like everything I had engulfed in your psyche never existed, you're a failed attempt so you don't exist. Your needs and wants are silly and useless, nothing worth dealing with now that I can't make you my prodigy. Why don't you go play with the other failures so that I don't have to look at myself while taking actually care of you. I don't want to see you, because it's too painful, because you're a remainder of my own inadequacy."
Note: If you want to read an incredibly well done analysis about Endeavor's motives and psyche, you can get it on @thyandrawrites , she's dwelt on everything extensively and way better than me.
I really want to talk about Rei though. In the panel I showed above, her expression is a bit tricky to analyse. At first she is very vocal about her position. She doesn't want to put Touya through useless suffering, especially since they have a scientific reason not to. They have no guarantee of success with other children, besides, they could possibly have to deal with other health related issues. However, all it takes to convince her in the end is Enji's half assed attempt at the "It's for Touya's sake" shtick. Is it really? Why doesn't she question her husband anymore?
Well... I think before Natsuo, she was probably hoping Touya would let go "naturally", with time and growth, maybe by taking interest in his other siblings. Rei said she wanted to have more children because in her mind they would have supported and loved each other. Maybe she was naive enough to think that a big family full of kids few years apart from each other was all Touya needed to distract himself from his purposes... BUT and here is the point I want to get across: She was deluding herself too, much like Enji. The ugly truth, in my opinion, is that Rei is a person prone to protect herself by going with everything other people want, especially if said people are capable of hurting her. Yes, she was hurt time and time again, but what would have happened if she really tried to stop Enji?
What I am trying to say is that Rei is the kind of person who endures to survive. She holds a "captive" mentality in which, by indulging her captor's desires, she can continue living with less possibile damage. If I stay still and silent, if I don't make a scene, I can go on, I can hold onto the few things I have that actually make me happy.
Let's think about it... Enji was so obsessed with his psychotic, power-hungry quest that he would have probably disown Rei. She would have been thrown away for a more compliant woman with an ice quirk, or something similar, this resulting in her probably losing everything, the respect and love of her family (the Himuras) and also her own children. Because we know Endeavor can definitely hold a grudge and is vendicative.
So, clarifying, Rei doesn't put up a fight because she is scared for herself in a way... She is scared to be hurt in the worst possible way (by losing her little bit of serenity), so her strategy is to endure and to keep up a facade of control and purpose.
Rei, ironically just like Touya and other characters in mha, doesn't really get what unconditional love is. Her family loves her until she can be useful to the Himura name and status, her husband loves her for her quirk. Her children, however, love her for who she is and she wants to stay with them... Only to be forced to leave them later anyway.
The few times Rei actually smiles are when she is with her babies. She is a deeply loving mother in her core, but her declining mental health makes her a very lacking caregiver.
This panel, in my opinion, shows the point of no return for Rei. She can't keep the glacial facade forever...
After Natsuo's turn to be deemed a failure, Endeavor is crazier than ever, because All Might is as popular and loved as ever and he hasn't make any progress into his eugenetic games. The last two images of Rei are very telling. She is exhausted, but she knows what her husband wants from her this time too. She looks like a lifeless doll and honestly I can easily see Shouto's conception as... Non consensual and I will stop here.
Then Shouto is born, the last, perfect specimen... And Rei isn't doing much for Touya, we can see she's apparently blind towards her eldest son's distress already after Natsuo's birth... But why?
Because she is actively avoiding to face the Touya's problems too.
If Touya is still suffering, is still feeling stressed and worthless, then everything Rei has endured, everything she pretended not to feel for the sake of her family has been completely useless. What Rei cannot look at is her own parental failure, is the concrete proof that while protecting herself and her peace she did not protect her children too, because the two interests were never really aligned, even if she really believed so. She never had a functional family to preserve in the first place and everything she accepted to do was all for the sake of a false sense of belonging.
However is too easy to say she should've rebelled against Enji and dumped his sorry ass. Abuse traps you and your abuser too in a cage tricky to escape.
What I imagine will happen next chapter is one of two things:
Enji stops Touya by using brute force, probably also saying something really scarring to reinforce the notion that Shouto is the only child he cares about.
Rei stops Touya by using her quirk. This act could be considered by Touya another confirmation that even his mother actually does something by her own accord only when Shouto's safety is at risk
Necessary conclusions
I don't blame Rei for her actions too much. She is a victim turned abuser by circumstances, but more importantly she's actually taken mesures to prevent herself from hurting her children again. She's trying to heal for her family's sake, really this time. Ten years spent dealing with guilt and having actual therapy seem a good plan to me. And now she's the one ready to snap Enji back to reality.
Enji, on the other hand, is trying too. It's too little too late, but if he stops avoiding reality and hardly works on understanding his family's point of view I don't think he is completely unredeemable. I don't see him surviving his last confrontation with Touya, thought... But I could be totally wrong.
Obviously everything I've said it's my personal analysis on Rei's character, as I interpret her actions and words, so feel free to contradict me and/or to add anything you might see fit.
#bnha301#bnha meta#mha#my hero academia#todoroki enji#endevor#todoroki rei#rei himura#todoroki family#tw abuse
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Violet Evergarden Ever After: Chapter 2
Please feel free to message me about possible corrections. If you can, consider supporting the creators by purchasing the official releases. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*
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The Night and the Auto-Memories Doll
Everything went around.
From past to present and from present to future. The dead bodies that decayed within the soil would dissolve into the earth, and from the earth, too, would new living creatures be born. Within a few hours’ time, curtains made of stars and nightly shades would be covered over by curtains in the colors of dawn.
People went around as well.
Children would be born, muster out their voices, start walking and, once they became aware of their own selves, their stories would begin. A cycle of discovering passion, coming to know love, stopping to be children and, upon sympathizing with other families, birthing offspring just as their parents had done. A cycle of learning about the world, spreading information, teaching their knowledge to younglings without sparing any of it away and generating more such younglings. A cycle in which someone’s story was someone else’s encouragement, and those who were encouraged would conceive stories of their own.
Everything went around.
There was one cycle here. It was the story of a meager cycle that likely could happen anywhere in the world.
A man picked up a wild beast from a small island to which he had drifted. It was a beautiful beast, but it had been stocked with skills long before coming to his hands. Skills for slaughtering people with ease and seeking submission.
Their first meeting was terrible. His underling had attempted to lay his hands on the beast’s beauty. As if it were a given, the beast had killed his many subordinates, leaving only one person. That was him. Granting him both disaster and salvation at the same time, the beast had sought subservience in regards to the man.
The man fled around the island where all but himself had been murdered, but gave in and accepted the beast. The beast was useful, but also an existence that he could not handle. Be it morning, noon or night, his head was troubled with the beast, his heart unable to calm down.
Essentially, he was a man who did not want to be shackled by anything. After all, he had a past of being forced into submission by his household and parents. He had escaped from his responsibilities and his home, jumping off into the sea. The man, who had been born in a family that bore the name of a flower, had run away and gained freedom.
He yearned for it – for a freedom that no one could steal from him – more than anything. Even if he had to cast away his little brother for it. Therefore, the man had done the same in the beast’s case. The one who mattered most to him was himself. He wanted to break free from that horror. Most likely, he had cut off from himself a child in need of salvation.
Everything went around.
——O God, I want to .
Everything.
A voice that sounded like bells echoed.
“Captain,” it whispered, as if to tickle the man’s ears. “Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”
It was evening. A time when people were returning to their homes.
“What would you like to do?”
An orange light shone from the window inlaid with stained glass. With the sunset reflected on the elaborately designed interior decoration, the place itself looked like a single work of art.
“Could it be that, because of the impact earlier, your hearing has...”
It was supposed to be. The place where the person who called out so insistently and the person who intentionally ignored her were in was an art gallery that just recently had its interior and exterior finished.
“As if.”
“I am relieved. Then, I would like to ask if you have a plan.”
In a place they were not supposed to be at, the two who were not supposed to be together were kneeling on the floor in resignation.
“Captain.”
“.............................”
“The civilians are in a predicament.”
“................................”
“Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”
“............”
“What would you like to do?”
“..................”
“I would like to ask if you have a plan, by any chance.”
“.....................”
“The civilians are in a predicament.”
“........................”
“If I may offer my opinion, firstly, I could act as a decoy—”
“Be quiet, monster. Don’t keep repeating the same thing over and over. Don’t breathe either. I’m thinking right now.”
Dietfried Bougainvillea, a naval captain of Leidenschaftlich, eldest son of the Bougainvillea – a household of patriotic national heroes – and the man who had picked up Violet Evergarden in the past and brought her to this country, was covering his eyes with his hands due to having too much on his plate. The little bit of silence and darkness had brought him relief, but someone’s sobbing, the voice of a man reproaching it and the sound of a person being brutally kicked and tumbling down dragged him back to reality.
He had a severe headache. Whether it was caused by his anxiety or his injury, he had no idea. He put a hand on the back of his head and examined it, but only a bit of blood had come out.
In order to somehow spit such awful mood out of his body, he took deep breaths. He felt that he had become a little better, but the unpleasant sensation returned once he opened his eyes and cast his gaze at the woman next to him. A spoon of discomfort, rejection and fear each was thrown into Dietfried’s emotional vessels, set on fire and boiled up. However, the most prominent feeling was something else.
The woman who had been talking to him so insistently until a moment ago was now quiet just and not letting out a single breath as he had told her. Violet Evergarden.
Dietfried looked fixatedly at his former servant. The woman, whose appearance had transfigured considerably in comparison to when they had first met, bore a radiantly shining cold beauty, which was even more conspicuous under such tense circumstances. She was almost like an ice sculpture, Dietfried thought.
——Even though you used to stink like a wild beast...
She now smelled of nothing but flowers.
——...you turned out just as I’d imagined.
“You’re a siren.”
Silence.
“My little brother destroyed a train station just to keep you alive; you’re a siren through and through. I’m not into you, but my mental stability is wrecked right now, and I’m sensing the harmfulness and influence that your existence brings about in that. You’re unmatched when it comes to breaking things and causing problems.”
Dietfried had once told his brother that the beast could become a siren. He had meant to say so including all sorts of matters. This young woman named Violet was a creature that God had created by mistake and had not been born under a good star. When one was by her side, there were many of them.
“Damn troublemaker.”
Many problems. Even though she had not wished for it, she had been born this way. Under a star that attracted disasters.
——It goes round. All of it.
He ran and ran from her, yet they would end up meeting, thus Dietfried had started to think that it might be some sort of divine revelation at this point. Telling him to face the girl that he had thrown away.
Violet was still, hand on her brooch. He someway guessed that it was given to her by his younger brother. He felt like clicking his tongue. This girl might become the worst-ever wife whose hand his most beloved little brother was going to take.
——We can leave that for later; gotta overthrow this situation first.
Determined to fight this reality, Dietfried then turned his gaze towards the sight that spread out before his eyes. Women, men, elderly people – everyone was crouching on the floor with guns pointed at them regardless of anything. Obviously, the same applied to Dietfried and Violet.
Unexpected situations – situations in which they could not make a false move even if they were on their own, let alone in the presence of so many civilians – were responsible for this. On top of it, Dietfried was also saddled with someone that he had to protect despite not wanting to. Of course he would feel like clicking his tongue at it.
Perhaps they were thought to be lovers, as no one said anything even while they stayed close to each other.
“Hey, did you really stop breathing?”
She did not seem to be in agony, but her figure as she diligently obeyed made Dietfried feel uneasy.
“I was joking; breathe.”
Violet’s blue eyes blinked with a snap.
“Yes.”
And then, she finally let out a breath. Dietfried hated himself for being remotely relieved that she had safely started breathing again, was what he thought.
“Hey, you.”
“Yes.”
“From now on, follow my orders. Don’t act on your own accord.”
“All right.”
“I’m gonna save the civilians. It’s my duty. There’s no helping it, so I’m counting you in that math too... No idea what my little brother would do if he found out I’d let you die. Even if it weren’t on purpose, if anything that could kill you happened under these circumstances, I really have no way of knowing what he’d do. He’d probably hate me.”
“No, Captain, he—”
“Have some self-awareness, Monster. My foolish younger brother blew up a train station to let you live. This fact did turn into a subject of teasing towards Gil for no matter how much time passes from now, but if you think about it on normal terms, it’s out of the ordinary. That’s the way you’ve changed him. Damn witch...”
She was the tool that he had found and that used to exist for his sake. A woman who used to be a dog with no name. An orphan whom he had picked up from a solitary island, brought back with him, attempted to get the most out of yet was unable to, and then threw away.
Asset. Girl soldier. Automatic assassination doll. Witch.
——Even if I don’t want to, for now, I gotta protect this thing and take it home.
“I’ll save you, so you save me too, Witch.”
Fate went around, adding a chance meeting as the best seasoning for a finishing touch. After all, at this very moment, Violet Evergarden and Dietfried Bougainvillea were being attacked by robbers and had weapons thrust at them.
“That’s awfully unpleasant for me, but I’ll take action by considering your life to be the top priority. Not for you. For my little brother.”
Understanding that she had received permission to talk once she had received permission to breathe, Violet gave her own opinion, “No.” She did it directly, without any restraint. “No, that is my job, Captain. Major... Lord Gilbert loves you.”
Dietfried’s eyes blinked. Those green orbs were staring fixatedly at Violet since earlier, enough to seem like they would suck her in. They were green jewels in a different shade from his younger brother’s. Those green gems, enveloped in shock, reflected Violet’s serious gaze.
“I shall guard you, no matter what happens,” Violet declared with resolution, like a knight. “I will obey your orders to the best of my abilities, but if I judge it to be dangerous, I shall take action with your safeguarding as the maximum priority.”
“Hey.”
“I will definitely protect you and bring you to Major safely. Please do not leave my side, Captain.”
“That’s my line,” Dietfried said while nonetheless wanting to kill Violet.
For the exchange between the two to reach this stage, things had first begun when morning visited Leidenschaftlich. This might be going back much too far in time for a clarification, but it all had indeed started since daybreak.
The morning weather was overflowing with sunlight on that day – typical of Leidenschaftlich in early summer. Early rising ladies formed queues in the bakeries that opened at dawn and little birds flew about the shops’ surroundings to receive breadcrumbs. There was a café three stores away from one of the popular bakeries, famous for serving floral teas, its signboard girl preparing to open it. If one went further ahead, there was a bank, and round said bank, there was a main street lined with large-scale shops.
An art gallery arranged to open the next day had been erected on the main street. Its name was Artemisia. It bore the name of its owner, who was an artist.
The gallery Artemisia displayed the works of its proprietor, of course, but it also had works of artists from within and abroad Leidenschaftlich. There were rows of works from unknown young artists that the owner had taken interest in as well, devoted as she was to the cultivation of new talents.
The Artemisia Gallery, which was to become a place where novel forms of Leidenschaftlich’s art would be born, was scheduled to hold a pre-opening party today, attended only by the people concerned. The gallery’s staff had started cleaning its interior and the sidewalk in front of it from morning.
Around noon, a restaurant employee hired for the sake of that day had visited, bringing in wine, snacks and table sets. As for the dishes, there were two types: the ones that had already been prepared and the ones that would be made by borrowing the kitchen of the owner’s residence, which had been built on the gallery’s top floor. Since eating was not the main focus, the preparations were merely enough for the upcoming guests not to feel hungry.
As evening came, the inside of Artemisia began to speed up with haste. If there were anyone in command of such a scenery, they would likely be asserting with a baton: “hurry”, “faster”, “elegantly”.
An envelope closed with a wax seal bearing the establishment’s crest. Customers arrived one after another with the invitation taken from inside of it at hand. For a pre-opening party with a limited number of invitees, there was a large amount of people. The elect few of Artemisia’s employees were in a flurry of activity.
“Bring me a coat” here, “not enough drinks” there, a plate breaking somewhere. “Where’s the owner?”, “Got caught by the guests”. “There’s no one to give us instructions”, “Oh, well” – just like this, things descended into chaos behind the scenes.
Normally, their job was to calmly recommend artistic goods. Therefore, they were unable to hide their bewilderment at handling so many visitors at first. Nevertheless, if one looked at the guests being entertained, how were they? Appreciating the artworks, looking like they were having a blast. Upon seeing this, the employees were able to understand deep down. That “what, so things are the same as usual”. By the time that the customers were completely familiar with the gallery’s interior, the employees were able to show smiles with a little bit of ease.
Among the guests invited to Artemisia, a foreign body completely unrelated to this world was mixed in.
It was a woman. A beautiful one at that. From an appreciative viewpoint, there would be nothing to complain about if she were one of the artworks. She was clad in a ribbon-tie one-piece dress, snow-white as a flower in full bloom on a summer day. Her long, softly curved golden hair extended to her waist. Perhaps she had come straight from work, as she held a heavy-looking trolley bag on one hand. “Click, click,” knocked her cocoa-brown boots against the marble flooring each time she took a step.
She walked while observing every artwork one by one. Idyllic landscape paintings, abstract paintings that looked like silver ink spilled on pure-white paper, oil paintings in which the people seemed as if they would move at any moment. Glassworks and ceramics that one would be very afraid even to look at from nearby. At first, the exhibition was of works from artists renowned within the country, but the small hall of its latter half integrated displays from artists who were still nameless. The woman stopped in front of one such work.
A painting of whimsical fantasy. Was it a winter sea? It depicted various things falling and sinking into dark and cold water. A pocket watch, a feather, a bed, a knife, a white flower and a chair. All were worn-out and had damaged parts. At first glance, one would not know what it was expressing. Only the boy painted in the center seemed to pierce through the viewer.
He was still a teenager and his appearance could also be considered that of a girl. After staring at him for a while, the feeling that he was supposed to be saved would surface. Because the boy had a facial expression that almost looked like he was making eye contact with the viewer as he fell. But this could not come true. He was sinking in the picture. No one on this side could do anything. One would not know what to do with themselves after looking at it – it was that kind of picture.
“Excuse me; I was the one who painted this. Is there anything wrong with this painti...”
Suddenly, a voice called to the woman from behind. A rock thrown into the quiet atmosphere. A low tone that cut through the dimness of the room.
People were mostly heading towards the famous artists, so the woman had been all by herself on that spot until just now. The man who had showed up a bit late was coincidentally the creator of that fantastical painting, and found himself talking to the woman who had stopped in front of his art. That was an extremely natural encounter for a pair. If their positions, circumstances and everything else were different, something might have been born between them. It did not have to be romantic love, just something – something else that “the two of them originally had”.
“Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”
The moment the woman turned around, the space resounded with a loud squeak. It actually had not resounded, but at the very least, Dietfried heard the thump of his own heartbeat, which gave his whole body goosebumps. He was enveloped in a strange sensation, as if the blood inside him were flowing backwards. One of the things he had once evaded in his life was standing there.
“What’re you doing, Monster?”
Violet Evergarden.
Before the emerald eyes that Dietfried possessed, of a hue different from his younger brother’s, there was a young female Auto-Memories Doll. The reason why he had not recognized her from the back was likely that her golden hair was slovenly loose.
He had not had a chance to see her after she had become a grown-up ever since the incident during the Flying Letters. Only people who had great amount of interaction with each other would be able to tell such a thing just by looking at someone’s back.
“I was looking at the paintings, Captain.”
Violet was expressionless. However, her hand alone promptly searched for her emerald brooch and squeezed it.
“You, paintings? Can you understand them?”
First, a scornful laugh, and then a head start with a verbal attack. She needed to put up a defense line. After all, this girl was formerly a weapon. An automatic assassination doll.
“I cannot. It is just that... my eyes and legs stopped.”
She was the one and only woman that Dietfried feared. If he had run into anyone else, his emotions would not be so disrupted.
Dietfried was scared. This girl was terrifying.
“I caused you trouble last time.”
He knew the things she had done. He knew whom she had killed. And he also recalled how he used to treat her, telling himself that it was all right.
“By asking about Major.”
Because she was a monster.
——O God, I want to .
These words wandered about in his head. They were words that he had prayed in his childhood to the one that he would meet at some point – probably in his dying moments. Thinking back on it now, it had been a foolish, immature and helpless wish, but he was serious about it at the time.
Looking at this girl made him remember his embarrassing past self.
“I shall see myself out. Captain, please take your time.”
“Hey.”
Violet had decided to retreat from the place, putting it to action. She concluded that this would be a peaceful solution for both sides and that it would secure each other’s survival.
“Hey, wait.”
However, Dietfried still had something that he wanted to say.
At the call of restraint, Violet’s feet halted mid-step. She then gazed at Dietfried. “Why?” her eyes were asking.
Choosing to leave must have been her own way of showing respect. Considering the current and the previous relationship between two of them, it was a sound judgement. Hence, she stared at him presumptuous and mutely.
Even now, it pierced Dietfried. That quiet “why” perforated him.
Despite being the one who had told her to wait, Dietfried lost sight of his next words. He had tons of complaints. Rather, complaints were the only thing that ever came out of his mouth. Most likely, he had never presented any warm words or attitude to her. No, he had at least patted her head when they parted. But what about it? That was all he had done. Which perhaps was the reason why.
——What did you think of that painting?
Just a question like this was exceptionally challenging for him. If it were anyone else, he would surely be able to ask as easily as breathing. He could also boast that he was the one who had painted it. However, only with this woman was it so difficult.
A long silence drifted between the two. A truly long, long silence.
The mood was almost like two beasts had come across each other in the wilderness and were estimating which would attack first. Both were underdeveloped and, not matching their insides, only their appearances were actually full-fledged. Seen from the sidelines, they were a beautiful adult man and woman looking at each other, but the air flowing between them was that of a battlefield.
Dietfried was starting to sweat. As for Violet, even her breathing was becoming shallower.
Violet seemed to be thinking about something. She opened and closed her mouth, repeating it several times. What should she do in that situation? What was best? She was probably unable to decide. This was something that not just Violet but also Dietfried was thinking about, yet the degree of seriousness in behavior was surprisingly higher on Violet’s side.
She would normally not be like this.
He was the person that even Violet Evergarden, who had written so many letters, was at loss as to how to act around. That was the man called Dietfried.
Perhaps her thinking had eventually arrived to a conclusion, Violet left her baggage on the floor and put her hands behind her back. “Feel free to.”
At first, Dietfried had no idea what she was doing. Violet looked like she was offering her body.
“Ha...?”
Without hesitation, almost as if she were a tool.
“I am still. Feel free to.”
“Feel free to feast on my life,” she seemed to say. Her current self overlapped with the beast of the past.
“To do what, is what I’m asking...” Dietfried’s mouth felt sticky, giving him a hard time mustering words out. His head had been occupied mostly with how to mend the blunder that he had exposed to her, so he could not respond to Violet’s surprise attack immediately.
“Do you not remember? I used to do this whenever I had to receive reprimand or punishment.”
He could not. All of the information that had been fluttering about in Dietfried’s head until now disappeared. It vanished.
“You, what the...”
The owner of the blue eyes that stared at Dietfried as if to shoot through him always did unexpected things, tossing him about.
“I did not know how to speak back then, so in order to show that I had no intention to attack you, Captain, I would do this.”
Those eyes.
“No matter what I say, surely... there is no atonement for me. With time, I have come to understand the things I... did. And how much terror I made you go through. Nevertheless, I am grateful for the kindliness of placing me under Lord Gilbert. I wish to pay you back somehow. If you say that it is unnecessary, at the very least, do as you please.”
For whatever reason, when those eyes asked him “why”...
“Be it with fists or with reproach, as much as you want.”
...his chest ached as if it had been stabbed.
“Feel free to.”
If that place were not a quiet art gallery, Dietfried would have yelled furiously at her, without caring about shame or his reputation. He managed to ball his fists hard enough for it to hurt and swallow down his angry voice due to his high level of self-respect.
“I hate that about you...”
This girl always made him aware that she would never act as he expected.
“...to death.”
At the words spoken by Dietfried’s quivering tone, Violet took a step back. Her stance of offering herself did not change, but her instincts were on-guard, wondering if she was not going to be killed by this man. Seeing that, Dietfried sneered at her figure.
“You’re the one who could choke the life out of me anytime,” he seemed to say.
Dietfried suddenly felt the heat that had gone up his head cooling down. Violet had taken a step back. That became the trigger for him to regain his composure. Because he was able to reconfirm that she was but a child in the end. This innocent aspect and action that were much like what a child would show to an adult exerted a great influence on the other party. Dietfried loathed that.
For he, who despised interventions from anyone, had so much aversion to it that it make him want to vomit.
Those who were accustomed to oppression from others would very easily choose to hurt people. She was inwardly frightened of that tendency. Yet albeit frightened, she prioritized others over herself. That creature was like a mass of contradictions.
——Disgusting. Stop. Die. Don’t look at me.
He did not want to get involved with her. But he had a mountain of things to say. However, when it came to whether or not he could properly do it, even if he managed to squeeze them out, they would turn into nothing but abusive language.
There was a large lake between the two of them and all they could do was gaze at the opposite shore, unable to tell how deep it was. Their first meeting was to blame for that. It was the cause of everything.
His underlings had attacked her and she had killed all of them. She then chased and chased after him, making him into her master. Despite there being a hierarchy, Violet was the one who had a grip over his life.
One would understand, after spending time with the girl, that this was a necessity for her. She was always like that, ever since the island only the two of them knew. Whenever anything happened, she would prioritize Dietfried. After all, even as he handed her over to Gilbert, she had not resisted.
If anything could be changed, that was the moment.
The two who never mingled with each other met again countless times in a parallel line. On such occasions, they would become unable to make a move due to shouldering the truth of rejection and of the things they had done, thus running away.
——Gilbert.
What did the person who brought the two together, whom they loved most, thought of that?
“You... I...”
——If I could change for Gilbert...
“Captain...?”
——If I could change, right here and now, for your sake...
Would it be easier for him to breathe?
Just as Dietfried was about to make a bitter decision...
“GYAAAAAAAAAH—AAAAAAH—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
...an incident occurred.
It was clearly not a hasty crime. The scream of Artemisia, the owner, echoed, and by the time that Dietfried and Violet had bolted from the quiet hall where there was just the two of them, robbers were already thrusting their weapons mostly at vulnerable women and children, having them on their knees. The course of action was far too swift.
Wide-eyed, Violet swung back her trolley bag and was about to throw it at them, yet Dietfried stopped her.
“Are you stupid?! Those aren’t all adults that can run...!”
Among the hostages, there was also a little girl held under someone’s arms, looking like she did not understand the situation.
“I will save them as fast as possible and take control of the rest.”
“They’ve got guns; what’re you gonna do if they hit someone else with a warning shot?! There’s the other artworks too... This ain’t a stage for a tactless bastard like you to brawl! Just stay put for now!”
“But, Captain—”
“Stay put!”
While the two were trying to push past each other, the robbers took notice of them.
In the main hall, perhaps in order to bind people up through fear, the men were being beaten without exception, being put on their knees over the floor. Seeing that, the women naturally sat down, trembling, and began to cry.
While screams were resounding like music, one of the robbers headed towards the duo. “So there were still weeds growing here?” was the look in his eyes as he swung his firearm emotionlessly.
Dietfried would have managed to avoid it. He had done it several times until now. He could do it as easily as floating on water. If he could catch the man’s gun with one hand and pulled it just like that, he was able to picture the opponent falling over as a reaction. Once he stole the gun, he could shoot each member of the robber gang one by one in the head. And then, there would be a gunfight. He would have done that if he were alone. Yes, if he were alone.
——Why now of all times?
There was nothing more humiliating than a punch that one had to resign oneself into receiving. But he had things he had to protect above his own dignity. Thus, he accepted the attack without dodging. If he were to start a scuffle amidst the current situation, he did not think that all of the people who had become hostages would remain unharmed. He would aim for a chance. That was what he should do. He made such decision not only for his own welfare but also for that of other people.
However, the automatic assassination doll made a completely different one. When her eyes glinted like that, she quite literally moved on automatic. She came forward to take his place. In that instant, the face of Dietfried’s younger brother was the only thing crossing his mind.
——Gil.
It was almost as if he had readied himself to do it. That was how quickly his arm reached out. He forcefully embraced Violet and turned his back towards the robber. A violent hit struck him from head to back. He could hear Violet’s breath quietly catching while holding her in his arms.
And such was how they had arrived to the present.
Dietfried did not think that his decision to suppress Violet was a mistake. He was aware that she was the woman who had fought by herself against terrorists inside an exploding train, but it would be a problem if she did something of the sort in the Artemisia Gallery.
Right now, he felt like a pet owner containing the rampage of his mad dog.
As for the mad dog herself, she had grown quiet ever since Dietfried had been hit, as if her functions were gone. Dietfried had pushed away the hands that had attempted to give him first aid. Any false moves and the robbers might beat him again.
She, who always took upon herself to protect, wound up being protected. On top of that, she had let the other be injured. This must have caused her to fall into despondency, enough to result in service outage. However, with time, she had rebooted and was rousing herself up once more to get through this situation.
“I understand that I should refrain from the use of force in an art gallery. But should we not place human lives above the artworks?”
——Whose fault do you think it is that I got hit on the back of my head?
Because she was saying the most obvious thing with the most serious face, Dietfried grabbed the collar where her brooch resided, taking the brooch along, without thinking. The thread that fastened the ribbon-tie dress’s button let out a screech. It was not the kind of deed that a gentleman would do to a lady. But Dietfried did not loosen the strength that he put into his grip.
“You... Do you still need disciplining from me?” he said, voice filled with rage, close enough for their faces to touch. “Think of this as a place that can hardly compare to any other... This thing’s pretty important for you, isn’t it?”
After blinking with a snap, she opened her mouth once, then closed it.
Once Dietfried’s hand let go of her, she grasped the brooch as if to protect it. She was more concerned about the brooch than the crumpled bust of her dress. She stroked it over and over, making sure that it had not been damaged.
Finally, she whispered in a dazed state, “I understand.”
“As if an idiot could,” Dietfried said with a snort, yet the other was a poker-faced Auto-Memories Doll. No matter how much he hurt her, it would have no effect. That was what Dietfried had thought.
“I understood completely. I will avoid combat here as much as possible.” Alas, her voice sounded a little faint.
Dietfried stared at Violet from the corners of his eyes. The brooch was indeed important to her. She was holding it down with both hands. She did not want anyone to touch it – that was what she was indicating. The two of them were speaking in an awfully low tone, but her timbre just now was as thin as the cry of a mosquito.
Dietfried said with a somewhat softer voice, “Good that you get it. I’m indebted to the owner of this gallery. I’m gonna choose the best I can for her sake too.”
“All right.”
“Human lives are the priority, of course. But we’re not gonna fight in a stupid way.”
Like a child, Violet nodded repeatedly.
“You’ve only ever been doing body guarding, murders and military action, and that’s why you don’t understand. In the sea... In fleet battles, we fight to protect. Our way of thinking is different from those who fight to conquer.”
“To protect...”
“If you can’t put brakes on them at sea, the enemies go to land. The reason why Leidenschaftlich is called a military nation ain’t just the army’s achievement. I’ve... never taught you how to fight at sea, huh... For now, forget the method of destroying and taking control of everything. Learn from my ways.”
“Understood.”
Dietfried was inwardly surprised at the obedient reply. Rather, even more than this, he was surprised that he and the “beast” were able to have mutual comprehension.
When she was in his hands, this beautiful Auto-Memories Doll was a “wild beast” that did not know how to speak, as well as a tool. An incontrollable beast, to boot.
“Still, if that is how it is, please do not forget that your wellbeing is my top priority all the more. I shall fight to protect you, Captain. Please do not think of protecting me for Lord Gilbert’s sake. If necessity arises, I will not might if you use me as a shield. I can be replaced, but there is no substitute for you.”
If, at that time...
“This is also linked to protecting Lord Gilbert.”
...in that place...
“Bye, Monster. This guy’s your next master.”
...he had educated and guided her instead of letting her go, would she have grown up the same way?
“Shut up.”
Would she have thought like that?
“Shut up, Monster.”
He had never even thought about it.
Another side of him immediately answered “no” to the self-questioning. Surely, a Violet Evergarden raised by Dietfried Bougainvillea would not have turned out like this. He might have at least taught her how to talk. They would have trouble communicating otherwise. He would have probably given her clothes and personal belongings for daily life. Bringing her along when walking around would look bad for him.
However, when it came to whether or not he would have bestowed this girl with something that would be enveloped in her hands with utmost zeal...
——I see; so it’s the same color as Gilbert’s eyes. That brooch.
...he would undeniably have not.
——Come to think of it, she was always following me around from behind ‘cause she hated being alone.
If there was anything he could have done for her, it was to at least fill up a coffin with flowers and leave it available for her. He did not intend for anything to happen, but he might have done that much. After all, if Violet had stayed beside Dietfried Bougainvillea, she would have surely died before him, for his sake.
“We’re gonna do an act.”
——Aah, Gilbert.
“An act?”
——I’m always late to realize how great you are.
“That’s right. You’re the one who suggested it, so I’m gonna make you into a decoy.”
——You’ve made that filthy beast into this.
“Understood.”
——You were able to change her like this.
“First, take this... It’s late for that, but... you got any questions about a joint struggle with me?”
As Dietfried asked, Violet responded with her neck tilted, “Why...? I do not.”
For whatever reason, his former weapon would show scraps of emotion only at times like these. Just innocently, unaware that it was merciless of her.
“Please use me correctly, Captain.” She smiled.
Why had robbers attacked the Artemisia Gallery?
There was a certain amount of history that led to such violence unfolding amidst everyday life. Firstly, it would be preferable to start with the time when a turning point happened in the life of the robbery’s main offender, but that would be rewinding too far. On to a brief explanation.
This case was a crime committed by a habitual criminal.
There were various reasons for people to rob, yet the advantage was but one. Earning compensation within a short period. Good citizens would be paid for their work, but thieves did not share this mentality. People received rewards through serving others. In order to gather a large sum, a long time and effort were necessary. Thieves abdicated from this. To achieve success, no matter in what land, a person had to be equipped with skills as a rule of thumb.
If one could stop after doing it once, why did they do it countless times? There were people here and there who thought this about criminals. It was because, if they had succeeded once, they could do it again. They were instantly able to attain things that they would have to spend a long time out of their lives to earn. This was the arrival of an opportunity to do that.
Once one got used to it, identifying opportunities was surprisingly easy.
Supposing that there was someone who excelled at predicting people’s thoughts. The other person’s personality would be determined by the movements of their eyes, the way they breathed, their voice tone, the relationships of power in their background, their social position and other such things, so one would be able to deduce what kind of conduct should be taken in order to derive the “correct answer”. It seemed like magic at first glance, but it was no more than the result of someone continuously keeping watch on another person for many years.
Since this was a strategy against individual matches, the robbers needed a slightly better ability to grasp the environment. As they were walking around the city, they incidentally found out that a new gallery was going to open. The opening date was also announced. It appeared that there would be an event only for those concerned on the day before.
No matter the establishment, dealing flawlessly with the inauguration of a new shop was difficult. Even if there were people in it who already had experience working in a gallery, but the use of their abilities to have control over such a situation and proceed with it smoothly was different. Employees would be in quite a panic on the day. If it was a members-only celebration day, there was no mistaking that the original state of the security that should be guarding the gallery would be insufficient.
And so, the robbers had thought, “Aah, if you poke this place, it’ll surely crumble down.”
They did not have any grudges in particular. They had simply judged that they could do it, thus undergoing the assault. The truth was merely that the Artemisia Gallery had been unlucky.
How many hardships the owner had gone through until she was able to open the gallery, had she lived her life bowing her head to other people? How many artists were looking forward to seeing their work exhibited in the gallery? The feelings of such people could be trampled miserably at times.
Not that many people paid any mind to weeds when walking. That was all. Except, this time, the Artemisia Gallery had been lucky about just one thing.
“No good... Hum, excuse me...! She suddenly...!”
A naval captain who loved art...
“Ugh...”
...and the woman who used to be called Leidenschaftlich’s War Maiden were amongst the hostages.
The man who had caused a commotion and pleaded to one of the robbers in a panic raised both of his hands as a display of no resistance. He was a long-haired a man. His slightly curvy dark hair went past his shoulders. Right next to him was a woman holding her stomach and trembling.
“What?”
A few armed men gathered around them.
“It seems her stomach hurts.”
“Just a stomach ache? Leave it alone.”
“You’re telling us to let her go to the bathroom? We still gotta watch these people. Besides, she’s a woman. If someone takes her to the toilet... Well, how much stuff did we get?”
“We’ve piled most of the paintings in the carrier, but there’s still the ornaments. It’s still gonna take a while.”
The robbers had a choice. The option to either silently let her suffer or kindly take her to the restroom. Beating only the men was likely one of their policies. They did not hesitate to make use of violence when needed, but when it was not, it was best to have as least animosity as possible in order to get through with things unobtrusively and quickly take the treasure. It seemed gentlemanly but was a self-righteous thinking.
“What do we do? The Head is...”
“The Head got in the car first. As if we can ask him stuff like this every single time it happens.”
“Head” probably referred to the member worthy of being their chief.
As the quiet exchanges continued in front of the agonizing woman, she finally lay down on the floor while still holding onto her stomach. The man who had appealed about her bad condition shook her shoulders, telling her to “hang in there”.
As if she had received a signal, the woman raised her face slowly. Her gemstone-like blue eyes were visible through the gaps between her disheveled golden hair. She was covering her mouth, perhaps trying not to vomit. Even so, it was easy to tell that the woman’s looks were remarkably good.
“It’s gonna take a while, huh. Besides, we’re gonna need the women later.”
Her eyes locked with one of robber’s as though sucking him in. One would not understand the destructive power that having this woman look up at them from their feet with her eyes wet had, unless they witnessed it themselves.
“Then, I guess it’s okay.”
From the vulgar smile of the man who had said so, one could presume what his intentions were. As the woman was covering her mouth, the robber instructed her to stand up, pointing his gun at her, and then took her to the restroom.
After that, the woman and the robber did not return for a while. Since there were no other people who mustered out the courage to say that they wanted to use the toilet, the period of their absence passed as if it were natural. In the meantime, the gallery’s exhibits were being carried one after another to cars with roof racks parked outside the establishment. The robbers were dressed as employees who worked with the transportation of goods, so even those walking down the street did not think there was anything strange about that work scene.
Once they had finished relocating most of the merchandises, one of the cars left the gallery. The other one that remained parked was meant for the getaway of those who were keeping watch. With the artworks that had been collected for the sake of this day snatched away down to the last one, the gallery was bare. The owner, Artemisia, had all the while been suppressing her cries and shedding tears.
Apparently, those thieves were quite the habitual criminals. They had threatened everyone with armed force upon entering the establishment, robbing people of any resistance, but after that, as long as everyone stayed still, they would do nothing but coldly keep control of the hostages, not even raising their voices. If people did as told, they would not lose their lives. That hope made the hostages obedient. Even though they were robbers, this seamless way of dealing with people was like that of artisans. They did not think of humans as humans.
“Excuse me; I just... want to lend her a handkerchief. That’s all. The sleeves of her clothes are already soaked with tears. Can’t you allow just this much?”
Hearing a voice from the back, Artemisia turned around. It came from one of the artists that she had invited over for today, whom she had known for quite some time. She was shaken by a sense of guilt that she had done something terrible to him as well.
Their first meeting had started at a certain recreational facility, when she peeked from behind while he was painting a landscape. She did not know his occupation, but they kept in touch and she had him show her his art. It seemed he had always been drawing as a hobby. He told her that even most of the people who were close to him did not know he painted, and that he had truly only been doing it for himself.
The busy man had weaved his way through spare time and the work he brought had swayed Artemisia’s senses. At first, he had hesitated at her request to put it on display, but then smiled like a boy and gave her his ready consent, looking happy.
——Aah, God. Please give it back. Please give that fun time back to everyone.
Artemisia was upset and vexed at the fact that the artworks were being stolen, but more than anything, it felt like the regret towards everyone who had been looking forward to this day would split her chest open.
“Hey, he told you to use this.”
He had lent a handkerchief to Artemisia through one of the robbers. Artemisia wiped her tears and managed to lock eyes with him somehow. She then mouthed a “thank you” to him without letting out her voice.
The man smiled. But it was not the smile that Artemisia knew. He was different when he talked about art. She had shivers before she could think. His eyes were not smiling.
“ .”
The man said something to Artemisia. As he had only moved his lips, Artemisia could not tell whether she had been able to read what he tried to convey. She could not, but most likely, he had said:
“It’ll be over soon.”
Eventually, the robbers started to create an atmosphere of evacuation at last.
“Let’s take one person with us until we leave the harbor. Can be a woman or kid. Which do we choose?”
“Woman it is.”
“That guy was playing around with the woman we were planning to use for that, wasn’t he? What happened to him?”
Assuming that they would finally be freed, the hostages started fidgeting. They had faced a disaster and the artworks that they had dedicated their lives to making had been stolen. This joyful day had been repainted into despair. But they were alive. That was the one and only bright side of today. They would not be able to maintain their rationality unless they comforted themselves with that. At any rate, they wanted to hurry and be liberated.
Amongst them, there was a man who merely observed the robbers’ movements in silence all the while. It was the man who had been caring for a woman that had a stomachache, looking worried. Once the woman had been taken to the restroom, he became expressionless, as if he had lost interest in everything. Occasionally, there were moments when he even yawned in secret, as if he had grown sleepy.
“Go call him. We could use that woman as hostage. She’s young, so she can come back walking if we throw her away on the street.”
Hearing these words, the man let out his voice and laughed. By the looks of it, he had not intended to laugh, but wound up doing so. He put a hand to his mouth, but then shrugged and let the robbers see it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of you. But trying to rape that thing, huh? No matter how many lives you have, it wouldn’t be enough.”
“Hey, what’s with you...? Got a complaint or something...?”
The man kept laughing, as though to say that the robbers’ threatening figures were even more comical. With her eyes, the owner, Artemisia, begged the man provoking the robbers to restrain himself, for she could not afford to lose not only the artworks that she had collected but also a guest that she had invited, yet the man closed one eye at that and replied, “Artemisia, it’s okay.”
No one in this place knew his social status. Or his history.
In the past, Dietfried Bougainvillea used to wield a weapon that could become the world’s best. It was now away from his grasp, but it was not as if their master-servant connection had been completely severed. The beast had a high level of loyalty, so although they had met by chance after a long time, her heart recognized it. That he was the one she had been following in the past – someone worth being served by her. Therefore, the beast would attend him to exhaustion.
Only a limited number of people could handle the beast. The feeling that she had returned to his hands for now was somewhat strange.
“She runs quick.”
“Ha?”
“That’s why it’s the end for you guys. My bad.”
“Hey, shut this dude up.”
As Dietfried had suddenly started talking, the robbers naturally had a doubtful reaction.
“She’s as fast as a deer. And this is the city’s main street, so there are hotels nearby.”
“So, what’re you saying?”
“I left my bodyguards behind to come here today. They’re probably drinking at their room’s bar. There’re also guys among them who know that thing from the time when she was still by my side. I left my hair tie with her, so she should be able to convince them with that. I could predict that you’d take the things you stole to the port. It’s pretty difficult to get away from pursuers on land when you make such a mess in the center of this city. It’s harder to be tracked using the sea route than the land route, right? But the sea route doesn’t work against me. It looks like one vehicle left a while ago, but it’s over by the point they reach the port. You’ll probably go outside now, but if you’re thinking about taking someone along as a hostage, you’d better drop it. Many of my subordinates are hot-blooded. If you rouse them up like that, they’ll probably get too excited. If that happens, you’re the ones who’ll be getting the short end of the stick. No matter how many dead bodies fall down, we can deal with it all we want in the aftermath. We’ll need to get the stories straight, but today’s hostages will surely choose to cooperate with me. Having people trample on the proof of a life that you’ve lived with all your might is painful for anyone.”
The eloquent man did not run out of breath even when speaking nonstop in such a situation. However, this majestic aspect of him was reflected in others’ eyes as dreadful and similar to madness.
The robbers abruptly realized that all the hostages were looking far behind them. They felt that there was something behind them. It was like a ghost, hiding even its flame of life, simply waiting for the orders of its lord.
Outside the windows of the gallery, they could hear the sounds of someone fighting from around the area where the car was parked. Simultaneously, they could hear a faint breathing just behind them.
The respiration of a woman who was out of breath from running loomed over their ears.
“Do it, Violet.” Dietfried raised his thumb and made a swift throat-cutting gesture.
While watching his doll render the robbers unconscious with a strength as overwhelming as a monster eating people, Dietfried reminisced to the past.
——Everything goes around.
He recalled the time when the two of them were stuck in that isolated island.
The beast had been scared when the rescue fleet arrived. So had Dietfried. He would not be able to bear it if more of his comrades were murdered. Hence, he had taken the beast’s hand and guided her to the outside world. In his perception, it was the same as taking the reins.
There were no reins anymore now. No need for him to pull her by the hand when walking, either. There was nothing between them.
Not love, passion, attachment, desire, anything.
“Captain.”
There was nothing, but one thing was for certain.
“Captain Bougainvillea.”
If he called for her, this Auto-Memories Doll would most likely go to the ends of the world to save him. That was her nature.
“I have just returned. Are you unharmed?”
At that moment, the beast was well aware that he had called her name for the very first time. Her eyes were crinkling.
“Yeah.”
Just this much compensation was enough to make the beast smile.
After a little while passed, Leidenschaftlich was embraced by the gentleness of the night.
Summer constellations were decorating the jet-black sky. Just as sunny as it was during daytime, the night sky was twinkling so brightly this evening that it could be called a banquet of stars. The day was about to end in Leidenschaftlich. Today was filled with chaos ever since morning.
While being observed by gathered-up onlookers, the arrest drama that had unfolded in front of the Artemisia Gallery was already coming to a conclusion, its many procedures and processing passed over to the military police. Seeing the stolen artworks safely re-delivered to Artemisia, Dietfried took a breather. His gaze then fleetingly drifted to the side. A dirtied ceramic doll was standing there. A woman beautiful enough to look like such, who shone amidst the night, was standing there. He had to say something to her. As one would expect, he should do that at least now. But he could not think of anything.
——“You did well”. “That wasn’t too bad”. “Good work”. “I commend you”... Which one?
Inside his head, words were being conceived and then disappearing. Just like the dreams that the sleeping children all around Leidenschaftlich were surely seeing right now. They were born and then vanished.
At last, he attempted to open his mouth, “Aren’t you cold?”
“It is summer, after all.”
And ended up talking to her like a man who was unused to inviting women out.
Violet Evergarden, who had been fighting reasonably and in order to protect, was still by Dietfried’s side. It was fitting to say that she had been today’s most meritorious person. The one who had come up with the idea of the arrest operation was Dietfried, but the one who had done all the work for it was Violet.
First, she had put up the woman-with-a-stomachache act and gone with one of the robbers to the restroom. She had then quietly strangled the neck of the man who had reached a hand to her shoulder with her mechanical prosthetic arms, making him pass out.
She had broken out and escaped through the restroom’s window. Rather than going to the military police, she had gone to the hotel that Dietfried instructed her to and notified the naval soldiers, who were enjoying cigarettes and drinks in a room on the top floor, of the circumstances. One of the soldiers, who happened to know her, had been frightened at first, but upon seeing that she had been entrusted with Dietfried’s ribbon, his facial expression changed and he contacted the military police, then informed the port’s security to reinforce their inspections.
Without waiting for them to get ready, she had immediately run back to the Artemisia Gallery and infiltrated it through the same route. A few of the robbers, who had the bad luck of spotting her, fell to the ground with one kick or punch to the abdomen, and so, she had finally returned. As Violet stood behind the remaining robbers while catching her breath, the hostages stared as if she were their safety, but Dietfried was sneering as he looked at her.
Just as ordered, she had saved Dietfried without damaging a single artwork.
“About what happened...”
“It will probably be best not to tell Lord Gilbert. He would worry.”
Upon seeing the last artwork be brought in, Violet took the trolley bag that lay by her feet. She likely intended to go home by herself.
After making her do so much, something similar to guilt was now sprouting within Dietfried. He wound up acknowledging that she, too, was important to someone. That was what he thought after the battle, when he saw Violet stroking her emerald brooch as if to confirm that it was there.
Even though she used to be a wild beast whom no one would mourn if she died.
——Aah, that’s an excuse. It’ll be nothing but an excuse. If so, then I don’t wanna say it.
Back then, when she was by Dietfried’s side, every single day was filled with madness on all accounts. They used to roam around battlefields, fighting from dawn to dusk, growing too accustomed to violence. The war then ended, peace had returned, and he realized that an era in which he could even make art was arriving. That those times were abnormal and the way he felt now was the default.
“I’ll take you home.”
“No need. Your escorts must be waiting, so please, feel free to take your leave, Captain.”
“It’s fine; just this time. I’ll take you home.”
“No need.”
“I’ll take you. Listen up, this is an order.”
“I cannot accept your command.”
“You little... You were taking action like I instructed you to just a while ago.”
“Because it was a state of emergency... Besides, Captain Dietfried, it would be reasonable if I were to take you home, but the opposite is illogical.”
“What’re you talking about? You’re a woman, aren’t you?”
“A woman”. Finding himself asserting this with his own mouth, Dietfried regretted it even more.
The corner of Violet’s lips had a cut and blood was coming out of it. Her ribbon-tie dress was drenched in sweat. Even those who did not sweat much would be like this after such a huge scuffle during summertime.
“I’m calling a carriage. It’s all right; just wait right there. I’ll see you off until you get inside the Evergarden house. And then it’s goodbye. We’ll never see each other again. No matter what you and Gil become, we’ll never see each other again.”
What he had done today to this woman, who had become fully able to accept someone’s love, was not something that a son of the Bougainvillea should ever do to a lady.
After they had hopped into the carriage, a moment of silence went on for a while.
——Is it okay for her to keep such an open secret even though those two are a couple?
Dietfried found himself accidentally concerned about his younger brother’s love life. After all, this situation might be a betrayal to his dearest brother. Gilbert had completely forgiven Dietfried. For pushing the headship succession onto him. For not having any consideration for their family. For forcing an indescribable wild beast onto him. He had forgiven everything.
Thinking back, the only time that he attempted to push Dietfried away, saying he would not forgive him, had been when Dietfried offered Violet to him. He had called it “human trafficking”. Told Dietfried not to be violent with a child.
Most likely, those two were each other’s only exception from the very beginning. There was probably no pardoning what Dietfried had done to Violet today. Gilbert would forgive most things. Save for matters related to the one and only thing that was most important to him. Being hated by a loved one. This could cast a shadow over anyone’s heart, regardless of how old they were.
“It is all right.” The voice that cut through the silence was thrown at him as if to soothe him down. The words sounded almost as if she had perceived Dietfried’s uneasiness. “If, by any chance... word ends up reaching him through someone else about this case, I will definitely defend you, Captain Dietfried.”
“‘Defend’, you say?”
“To tell the truth, I often get involved in large-scale incidents without Major knowing. But I return without fail. To Leidenschaftlich. I will return today as well. Therefore, we are all right.”
“What do you do out there?”
“We were separated for much too long. Therefore, we have many moments that the other does not know about in the first place. Perhaps even now, too. I have work to do and so does he. We have limited time to see each other. However, I will definitely always return to Major. He knows this as well. Even when we are apart, that person is the only one who occupies my mind. I am not sure if I convey it to him properly, but that is how it is.”
Her statements were something that would normally make him burst into laughter, but Dietfried was unable to do so.
——When did you become like that?
Dietfried hated Violet. Several factors had induced his emotions to it.
——Now you can correspond to someone’s love.
He saw himself overlap with her. Her subservience to adults and the way that she herself wanted it disgusted him. He despised the wild beast that did not yearn for freedom. Despised the fact that she had been trained by someone to be this way. Despised everything. To begin with, Dietfried did not have many things that he liked.
Even the number of people who could become kind had a limit.
The truth was that, even if he wanted to be kind, it was no longer possible. He had prayed to God for it countless times in the past. However, unable to achieve this, a man named Dietfried Bougainvillea existed.
——O God, I want to, he begged a certain Someone in his mind for the first in a long time. Perhaps since his childhood.
Still, this sort of being did not give any reply to calls. Even now, he had no idea if his plea had reached Him. It was certainly impossible. His and Violet’s stars were in a position that would not radically change.
Nevertheless, for some reason, he had the overwhelming desire to ask someone for forgiveness today.
——I wanna go back.
Not even he knew where to.
——Hurry and be over, this day, today and the time I have to spend with her.
He was not annoyed.
——O God, I want to...
But painfully miserable.
“Captain.”
The carriage ran amongst trees dyed in the darkness of the night. A cool voice echoed amidst them.
Violet was looking at the scenery outside. She was observing the moon, which chased after them, no matter how far, far apart they were.
The moon was something that would continue to exist forever. Unlike stories. Regardless of whether Dietfried concerned himself with it, everything about his story would come to a closing one day as well. Demise would arrive even to the things that he did not wish to ever be over. Even the feelings he had now would end.
“How was I today?”
“What?”
“Did my work earn your satisfaction today?”
Dietfried could not read the intentions behind Violet’s question at all. She was someone whose emotions he could not read in the first place, but it was even harder to understand the meaning of that sentence.
“What do you want to say?”
Silence.
“Hey, just say it straight. Don’t be dodgy with me.”
“All right,” the cool voice entered his ears once more. Such coldness resembled the night, but it never left his ears, easy as it was to catch.
Violet turned her neck and cast her gaze at him. Slowly, blue and green eyes blended with each other.
“I...”
Bathed in moonlight, she was simply, purely beautiful, enough to take Dietfried’s breath away.
“When I was with you, Lord Dietfried, my work was never satisfactory. Now that I became an adult, have I finally been able to repay my debt... with my work?”
“What d’you mean by ‘debt’?”
His voice was hoarse. He suddenly felt as if this icy woman had robbed his entire body of its heat. The inside of his mouth was extremely dry.
“I mean everything. It all started when you brought me from that island. I am the way I am now because you entrusted me to Ma... to Lord Gilbert.”
“If you’d stayed with me, probably nothing good would’ve happened.”
“How would I be if I had continued to serve you?”
These words became a bullet and pierced Dietfried’s heart. He felt as if his breathing would stop at the unexpected question. Things had been like that since the distant past. Dietfried would reconfirm time and time again that she was a woman who could have become a lethal weapon for him.
“So you also imagine a hypothesis... of ‘what if’,” her exquisitely cold voice rang within the darkness. Upon being asked, “You too?”, Violet nodded.
That was his line, Dietfried thought, but Violet then sent his gemstone eyes a dream-like gaze. His existence might be devoid of realism to her.
Violet began to whisper. If only she had disobeyed that order back then. If only she had rushed to him a step faster at that time.
“Back then, if”. “Back then, if”. “Back then, if”.
She could not bring myself not to think that, if only she had had this extra step, he would not have lost that emerald eye.
“Besides, I wonder... if I had managed to protect him back then...”
She had to let go of her most beloved lord’s hand and was entrusted to someone else as if she had been thrown away.
“...I would not have had to spend that time away from Major.”
Thinking back, she had always been abandoned and then picked up by somebody. She should have been used to it. That was the star she had been born under.
She was originally a foreign body to this world and was supposed to have been eliminated. Her destiny had also flowed in this way. The reason why Violet had rebelled against her sectioned path, despite having been tamely submitting herself to it, was that the other was special.
——I also threw her away.
He had thrown his home away. Thrown away his little brother, who cried in protest. And thrown away this beast.
“I also wonder what would have happened if you had not left me with Major.”
This woman.
“But all of these are akin to dreams, crossing my mind and fading away. After passing through countless ‘if’s, I...”
He had pushed this woman onto his brother and forsaken her. Looking at her made him sick. He was also scared of her. Most importantly, he would have stopped being himself. This terrified him.
“And now, I have become an Auto-Memories Doll and am spending a night with you.”
This woman possessed an element that transmuted people.
“Y’know, you’ll be alone one day. You’re the one who’s got the longer lifespan, aren’t you?”
Violet closed her eyes at those words. If she had pictured numerous “if”s, this would obviously come to mind as well.
“I do not know.”
“If that happens, what’re you gonna do?”
“I do not know. But are you not the same as me when it comes to this? You love him, right?”
“I’m... I’m the older one. I’ll be gone sooner.”
“No one knows about that. But... if, one day... I do become alone... if I am left living by myself... my order will still be valid. I will probably live on.”
If she ended up living by herself, this supposition was the cruelest of things to the beast. Just what did he want to do by making her say this now?
Thinking back, ever since they had first met, he had not known how to deal with her. Should he have protected her? Killed her? Protected? Killed? Or perhaps...
“That is why I write letters every day. Even if they do not reach him, I write letters to Major every single day.”
Silence.
“Captain, what will you do?”
“Me, huh? I... let’s see. Paint, I guess.”
“A painting or Major?”
“That’s right.”
“May I go see it?”
To Dietfried Bougainvillea, this wild beast was both a woman and a monster from the very beginning. She was now as far-off as a dream.
“You’re the only one of my relatives who knows I paint. Do whatever you want.”
——O God, I want to be a good person.
#violet evergarden#fyeahvioletevergarden#veedit#dietfried bougainvillea#kyoani#kyoto animation#akatsuki kana#takase akiko#my translation
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Cursed Child rant
I swear to God my Facebook needs to stop telling me about Chris Columbus wanting to adapt Cursed Child... I DON’T CARE!
Cursed Child is the worst fucking thing ever created! Like why! If Chris Columbus wants to adapt it then he can, more power to him but can he at least change the bloody plot!?
Yes this is a rant, yes this will include spoilers and yes I hate it with a passion!
I’m actually gonna try and structure this, as normally when I go on a rant I miss things out since I get so wrapped up in one point I forget another.
Also I’m actually starting this off with the plot elements I like before I tear this play a new one:
- Albus being sorted into Slytherin.
- His relationship friendship with Scorpius
- Scorpius Malfoy in general
- Draco finally getting his redemption (the one he deserved in the originally story)
And that’s it. That’s all the good parts of this plot. Well Done.
Now onto the rant...
I should probably start with the biggest issue I have: Cedric Diggory and the fact that managed to kill his character even though he was already dead. WHY IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK WOULD CEDRIC DIGGORY BECOME A DEATH EATER IF HE LOST THE TOURNAMENT?!?!?!?! He told Harry to take the trophy. He would’ve happily let Harry win. He was a loyal Hufflepuff through and through so why would he immediately decide “Fuck it! Time to join Voldemort and murder Neville” if he lost? Answer: He wouldn’t! Did Jack Thorne even read the books? It doesn’t make sense and it pisses me off to no end. Cedric Diggory does not deserve this type of slander!
Issues number 2 and 3: Time Turners and the way time travel works. In Prisoner of Azkaban it is shown that time travel works in a loop. Both the normal timeline and the time travel timeline are happening simultaneously (it’s kinda hard to explain in words). Harry and Hermione’s time travelling counterparts are running alongside the main plot the entire time. They have always been there. During the Goblet of Fire, Albus and Scorpius aren’t shown or mentioned once, why? because they didn’t exist at that point but suddenly thanks to the Cursed Child they were able to go back and change things, meaning the rules of time travel have changed within the Harry Potter universe. The issue with the time turners is that it is explained that all of them were destroyed during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries in the Order of the Phoenix but due to some plot convenience 2 new time turners were made with new abilities because the story needs one. One of the new abilities is travelling back however far the user wants which is bullshit but sure. Which leads into issue 4: Going back in time to 1981. Let’s mentally scar Harry more by making him watch his parents die and not being able to do anything about it. Like literally what the fuck?
Issue 5: Delphini. Just why? Here’s Thorne just throwing canon out the window once more. Bellatrix and Voldemort had a love child. Makes sense. Bellatrix, who was married to Rodolphus Lestrange and Tom Riddle, who could never experience love due to the fact he was conceived under the effects of a love potion had a daughter. For arguments sake let’s say they did have an affair, it says that Delphini was born at some point before March 1998, so the writers want us to believe that for last 9 months of the Harry Potter canon Bellatrix was pregnant. All this because they wanted to squeeze the Bellatrix/Voldemort ship in there.
Issue number 6: Harry Potter and his Neglect towards his son. In what universe would a man who was abused as a child turn round to his own son and say the words “Well, there are times I wish you weren’t my son”? Most of the things Harry does or says in this play are awful! No parent should ever wish that, or try and force their child to stay away from their friends. Harry is an arsehole in this story and I have no idea why.
Issues 7,8 and 9 are just nitpicks on my part. Number 7 is Albus Severus’ name. Two of the bravest men you’ve ever met, fuck off Harry. They were two of the most manipulative, awful people you’d ever met. (Snape and Dumbledore are 2 of my least favourite Harry Potter characters). If Harry really wanted to name his child after people I would’ve gone with Regulus Rubeus Potter (Remus was Teddy’s middle name and Teddy was his unofficial eldest). Number 8 is why is James Sirius Potter such a dick. I get that brothers will joke and prank each other but why is the fandom so sure that James will pick on his brother because of his house? Number 9 is Teddy Lupin’s absence. He is not mentioned once in the entire play. Wouldn’t he be worried as to where, not only his God-brother has disappeared to, but also his cousin? Wouldn’t he be seeing his God-siblings off to school on the platform? But as I said, these are just little nitpicks.
Issue 10 is Rose Granger-Weasley being intolerant towards people. Surely since Hermione is her mother she would know not to judge people based on their parents or their upbringing, She wouldn’t give her cousin (who she’s practically grown up alongside) the cold shoulder just because he’s been sorted into Slytherin.
Issue 11: The queerbaiting. I mentioned before how the relationship between Albus and Scorpius was amazing. I don’t know why they decided to keep Scorbus as a platonic thing! They had the perfect relationship set up and they did nothing with it. The amount of cliches in this plot and they didn’t add the Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed lovers situation. It was wasted potential of a ship but considering what You-Know-Who has been saying on Twitter it’s not really a shock anymore...
And finally issue 12: Why is the Trolley Lady suddenly able to transfigure her fingers into claws? She was just a kind little old lady who sold sweets to the kids on the Hogwarts express but now she’s got a sinister side when people try and get off the train? It just doesn’t make sense to me.
But yeah, there are my thoughts on the many, many faults of the awful fanfiction turned play, the Cursed Child. I just don’t understand why this became a thing. I feel like She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named only gave Thorne the go ahead because it meant more money for her in the long run. In my eyes Cursed Child will never be canon. I have accepted Hufflepuff being good finders and Scarfy as canon but the Cursed Child will never get that treatment.
I have said before to my family that I would see it on stage but only for 3 reasons:
1) The special effects/onstage magic
2) The actors and actresses who have worked hard
3) The fact tickets to this show are so fucking expensive, that I would only go if someone brought me them as a present. (Which I don’t think will ever happen as I have been quite vocal about how much I despise this story)
So yeah... I’m not a fan of the Cursed Child and wouldn’t go and watch a film adaptation unless the story was completely different.
#harry potter#the cursed child#harry potter and the cursed child#rant#cursed child rant#i hate the cursed child#long rant#cursed child sucks#cursed child salt#cursed child#anti cursed child#albus severus potter#scorpius malfoy#they deserved so much better#so much potential#squandered#like literally what the fuck
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Katara's Grief
(This is my first attempt at a meta post and I know that this has probably been already done but I just needed to get it off my chest and go on a little rant and it kinda got long so bear with me.)
A lot of the hate on Katara stems from the fact that she keeps on mentioning her mother's death at every chance she gets and invalidates other people's pain to assert that her suffering is the worst of the lot.
And even though everybody is entitled to their own opinions, I'm gonna point out why I think the aforesaid claims are not exactly correct.
First we'll take a look at; Katara's Backstory:
We know that Kya is killed in a fire nation raid and that Katara had been the last person to see her alive before she leaves the tent on her mother's insistence. Only to come back a few moments later and find her dead body. This, in itself is a traumatising event.
So yes, her mother died. Other people in the story go through far worse. You're not wrong when you say that.
But what is more important in Katara's story is the aftermath of her mother's death.
As Sokka says while talking to Toph in "The Runaway" in B3 Ep7:
Sokka: When our mom died, that was the hardest time in my life. Our family was a mess, but Katara? She had so much strength. She stepped up and took on so much responsibility. She helped fill the void that was left by our mom.
As an eight year old, she had to force herself to grow up to step into her mother's shoes and raise herself and her elder brother and simultaneously look after the entire village after her father left to fight in the war. She had to do all of it by herself.
In face of all her responsibilities, she never really had the chance to simply be a grieving child lamenting the loss of her mother. She habituated herself to caring more about others than herself (We see this trait in the entire series as she acts as the stand-in mom friend for the entire Gaang with an exception of Suki and Zuko). She ended up bottling her feelings of grief, resentment, guilt and rage deep within herself.
She had to give up an extensive part of her childhood where most children focus on figuring themselves out, to become a mature and responsible person who was working as the immovable pillar holding up the family and even the whole village not much later.
She put up a strong front to help others and pretended to be fine even though she was hurting inside the whole time.
She could never find any closure from the situation. She never got over it.
Moving on to the criticisms:
1. Katara keeps on mentioning her mother like a broken record:
Here are the number of times Katara mentions her mother's death (not sure if that's all of it, lmk if there are any others):
1. In her first scene with Sokka
Katara: Ever since mom died, I've been doing all the work around camp while you've been off playing soldier!
2. A short while after she meets Aang
Katara: Well, I just want you to be prepared for what you might see. The Fire Nation is ruthless. They killed my mother, and they could have done the same to your people.
3. A short while after she meets Haru
Katara: I lost my mother in a Fire Nation raid. This necklace is all I have left of her.
4. A short while after she meets Jet
Katara: Sokka and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation.
5. In the swamp after she sees a vision of her mother
Katara: I thought I saw Mom.
6. In the Crystal Catacombs with Zuko
Katara: I don't? How dare you! You have no idea what this war has put me through! Me personally! The Fire Nation took my mother away from me.
7. A short while after she meets Hama
Katara: We completely understand. We lost our mother in a raid.
8. Repeated mentions in The Southern Raiders episode
(Most of the episode basically)
The first mention with Sokka is in the middle of a siblings' spat where she tells off Sokka for trying to act as if he were superior when it was obvious that in the face of the gaping hole that was left by Kya's sudden death, Katara had shouldered much more responsibility.
When she tells it to Aang, she uses it as a proof that the Fire Nation is capable of immense cruelty and destruction.
The Gaang travel all around the world and meet different people affected by the war in different ways. So when Haru, Jet and Hama narrate their own stories, Katara sympathises with them and talks about Kya's death in lieu of "I understand, the Fire Nation hurt me too."
After they got separated, Aang, Sokka and Katara each had their visions and after they get back together, they all mention their visions and so does Katara.
When left alone in catacombs with Zuko, whom she considered as the face of the Fire Nation— the same Fire Nation that had her mother killed and forced her father to leave to fight in the war, she has a meltdown where she rightfully accuses him of all the bad things he's done and then breaks down while talking about how the war has cost her i.e., by causing her mother's death.
The Southern Raiders is the episode where Katara hunts down the man responsible for her mother's death. If you think mentioning Kya repeatedly in this episode is uncalled for, then I don't know what to tell you.
In all the incidents mentioned above, Katara mentioning her mother's death is a very natural occurrence is the respective conversations. She mostly talks about Kya's death to either extend her sympathy or to use it as an example of the ruthlessness of the Fire Nation.
Another fact to be noted is that 70% of the Gaang's storyline is followed via Katara from a narrative point of view. Plus, being the mom-friend, she acts as the spokesperson. Considering that Kya's death is a major event that played a huge role in shaping Katara's life and is also the source of her severe, unresolved trauma, which acts as the driving force of her story, it is only natural that she brings up this topic whenever she is engaging in a deeper conversation.
It is us as the viewers who have seen her from the start and already know about her mother's death and we see her talking to multiple people about it. Which is why it might come across as repetitive to some people.
While, Kya's death is not necessary information that everyone needs to know, Katara talking about it never comes across as a forced or unnatural.
2. Katara invalidates others' pain because she thinks she has suffered the most:
First of all, if anything, Katara is the most empathetic person of them all. As the mom-friend of the group, not only is she their constant moral support, she also helps them untangle and sort out their own feelings. She is also able to tap into issues that aren't said out loud.
Instances of Katara helping and supporting Aang, emotionally are uncountable.
She is the first one to notice Sokka's sour mood in B3 Ep4 "Sokka's Master". And even though his insecurities seem baseless, she validates him (by saying "I'm sorry you're feeling so down" instead of something like "That's a dumb thing to say") and knows exactly what to do to cheer him up.
In B3 Ep7 "The Runaway" she has the insight to understand that Toph's unruly behaviour is caused by the mixed feelings she has about her parents even though Toph's herself never talked about it.
She even reaches out to Zuko in B2 Ep19 "Crossroads of Destiny" even though she used to think of him as the face of the enemy.
But then there's The Southern Raiders.
Ah yes, that episode where Katara is extremely OOC and a total b*tch.
Agreed that she said some things that she definitely shouldn't have said. But like, she's just 14?? And has been hurting on the inside since she was 8?? And pretended to be fine just for the sake of other people?? Like, there's a limit to how much she can have her shit under control?? And she did a real good job of Sokka's upbringing and taking care of the village and taking care of Gaang on her own?? Some people out there are really willing to forget everything she has ever done just because she was mean for 5 minutes?? A traumatised 14 yo shouldn't be villianised and called toxic because she got mad and lashed out at people that one time??
But here's my take on the scene anyway:
When Aang gets to know that she's going to go face her mother's killer:
Aang: Um ... and what exactly do you think this will accomplish?
Katara: I knew you wouldn't understand.
Aang is a non-confrontational person who prefers running away from difficult situations as opposed to Katara who firmly stands her ground and is never afraid of confrontations. Katara had approached Aang only hoping that he would understand. But going by his dismissal, he obviously doesn't understand the burning need that she has to confront the man who had single-handedly destroyed her childhood. (Most people infer that what Katara means is that she thinks that Aang doesn't understand the pain of losing people. And so does Aang, I guess)
But things start getting even more tricky when:
Aang: Katara, you sound like Jet.
In all honesty, this is probably the most insensitive thing that she could've heard from anyone right then, let alone one of her closest friends. Hearing herself being compared to a homicidal maniac just because she wants to avenge her mother's killer. (No, I'm not justifying murder but there's a clear difference between homicide and avenging someone's death. And Aang may not be my favourite character but I do love him but this wasn't really a good thing to say either. And he wasn't even mentally distressed in the very least to be completely lacking tact or a filter.)
And then the situation escalates:
Sokka: Katara, she was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right.
Katara: Then you didn't love her the way I did!
After 6 long years of Katara bottling in her dark feelings and letting them fester inside herself, she is finally letting them out and the first things she faces in a span of few minutes are outright rejection, invalidation of her feelings, comparison to a homicidal maniac and nothing akin to the unconditional support that she has provided to everybody. Her own brother tells her that he is siding with the boy who just compared her to a homicidal maniac.
Yes, accusing your own brother of not loving your mother enough is a very cruel thing to do. But both Sokka and Katara know that she doesn't entirely mean it.
But also, there is one very important factor in here:
In B3 Ep7 "The Runaway", Sokka says to Toph:
Sokka: I'm gonna tell you something crazy. I never told anyone this before, but honestly? I'm not sure I can remember what my mother looked like. It really seems like my whole life, Katara's been the one looking out for me. She's always been the one that's there. And now, when I try to remember my mom, Katara's is the only face I can picture.
Katara overhears this conversation just as Sokka had meant her to.
This dialogue lets us know that Sokka's coping mechanism has made him suppress all memories of Kya and replace them with memories of Katara in order to attain a semblance of normalcy.
Both Katara and Sokka had very different ways of coping with Kya's death. Katara pressed down her feelings and tried her best to pretend to ignore them while Sokka partially succeeded in forgetting her.
When Katara first hears these words she is shown to be crying. But if she were to remember these very words while she was justifying herself infront of her own brother and a close friend for wanting to avenge her mother, it would've had a negative impact on her.
In her rage, she would've thought: "Of course he doesn't want to avenge mom. Because he doesn't think it's worth it and that's because he doesn't even remember enough of her to be mad about her death."
And for someone who has spent each day of the last 6 years trying to fill in the shoes of her mother and experiencing her absence everyday, the idea of forgetting her mother is a ridiculous concept to her.
Her thoughts would have quickly derailed to: "He didn't love her enough to remember her."
In light of these thoughts, saying "Then you didn't love her the way I did" doesn't feel out of the blue.
No, I am definitely not justifying what she said, I'm just laying out a possible explanation to why she said what she said.
Yes, she should've apologized to Sokka for this and I think that they definitely should've had a long conversation about their mother's death and how it affected them. Between Katara supressing her feelings and Sokka supressing his memories, i don't think they ever had this conversation.
But sadly we are given neither of these scenes.
Tl;dr: Everytime Katara mentions her mother, it's with good reason and I don't think it's fair to call a character toxic when they lack a mind to mouth filter for 5 minutes and say some mean things. And considering all that Katara has done for everybody, it isn't fair at all.
Peace out!
#antis really be out there ignoring everything she does to hate on her because of two lines she said#nvm katara is one strong badass girl stan her for good grades and clear skin#katara#atla#atla meta#meta analysis#avatar the last airbender#water tribe#kya#sokka#hakoda#gaang#atla gaang#avatar gaang#zuko#aang#toph#ira's posts
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I'm here from that civil war analysis. I absolutely agree with everything you said. I would also like to know what you think of wanda.
Posting under the cut because a lot of my mutuals are WandaVision fans and I respect that.
Wanda Maximoff gives me hives. I don't know if it's poor casting or just how badly her character is written. I know that she's supposed to be better in the comics and in some animated series, but I haven't encountered either.
Starting off in Age of Ultron, you have Wanda as an unsympathetic nazi. You could argue that she joined up with Hydra to avenge her parents, but I still think it was a dumbass move that gets glossed over pretty quickly in the same movie. I was mostly neutral toward her in this movie (I didn't know at the time that she was going to be a permanent main character), but I found her annoying and about as interesting as a slab of concrete.
Then we get Captain America: Civil War. A trash dumpster fire of a film. Everything starts out pretty good, she's part of the team, she botches the mission, and here I thought things were going to get interesting, we were actually going to get some good character moments with her. Except then we don't. All we get is Steve giving vague father-ly advice to excuse away a mistake that cost people their lives.
Mind you, if Wanda was part of any military branch or police force, she'd have been benched, maybe permanently. I'm not saying I'm pro-cop or pro-military, btw, I'm just saying that official organizations that have literally no accountability are doing better than the Avengers at taking responsibility. But hey, you can't save everyone amiright?
Then you have her being visibly distressed over footage of the damage she caused one film ago. And the narrative treats her as justified for wanting it turned off. Y'all, I'm sure her destroying several buildings (via the Hulk) and manipulating Tony Stark into building an AI that backfires and kills half a city is totally more traumatic than...I don't know, the people who died maybe??? The Avengers who were put under mind control, facing their worst fears? Why is the narrative treating Wanda like the victim here?
Then you have the whole "you locked me in my room" comment and that's where I really start to see red. Because Tony Stark is allowed to be put forcibly on house arrest "for his own good" a few movies ago, but the minute we try to protect an illegal immigrant without a visa (edit for clarity: I'm not bashing immigrants, legal or otherwise, the team was right to protect her) who blew up a street (accidentally, but if we aren't letting cops or vets get away with it being just an "accident," then I'm not letting Wanda either) and killed a couple of people by keeping her in a safe, comfortable, building that literally has every modern convenience she could ask for. She sounds really entitled for someone who's supposedly a victim of oppression in this film.
Her whole attitude in this movie really irks me. The whole "you were holding back" (she's his best friend ffs of course he was holding back), "i can only control my own fear" (we've literally established one movie ago that that's not true)...why does she have such bad dialogue guys. I'm trying so hard to like the hot witch with the rad superpowers, why are you making it so hard Russo brothers.
Then we have Wanda/Vision which feels so so forced and so so hetero I go insane watching it. It's a bit better in WandaVision (mainly because they actually took the time to flesh their relationship out), but the ship comes almost out of nowhere. On the MCU canon pairings scale, starting at the top with Pepperony and ending on the bottom with Bruce/Natasha...I put it somewhere around Bruce/Natasha. It's that bad.
She's was pretty cool in Infinity War, powers-wise. There were a couple of sequences I actually enjoyed. Was a little annoyed that she and Steve kept taking away Vision's choice, and ultimately Vision was right, but whatever. She had some good moments in this film so it's probably the film I rate her the highest in character-wise.
I hate Endgame for many reasons that are not Wanda related, but her "you took everything from me line" is kind of confusing because A) a wayward, stollen bomb took away her parents and B) her and brother's actions killed her brother. Unless she's categorizing Vision as her "everything" then this statement doesn't hold up. (Also the forced girlboss moment in Endgame gave me a mental illness.)
WandaVision is pretty good. The premise is interesting, the creepy moments are really creepy, and the acting is great. There are some wonky plot moments, I don't really like the meta-joke with them recasting Pietro (THEY CAN ASK THE SAME ACTOR BACK HE'S NOT DEAD OR ANYTHING???). I have no huge complaints beyond the fact that, again, this is about the most forced, hetero relationship on the planet and I'm tired.
There is the whole Wanda being white-washed and Elizabeth Olsen using slurs, but as a white person, I feel unqualified to make a comment on that. I would rather defer to someone with more knowledge on that to make an informed statement on it.
Oh shit, I forgot about the Tony Stark thing. Yeah, let's talk about Wanda's motivations in Age of Ultron. So she and her brother join the MCU's sanitized version of nazism because a bomb dropped on their house, killing their parents. The bomb had Stark Industries on it, so they think "hey we gotta get back at the guy who made the bomb" which???
Okay, so let's say a bomb dropped on my house killing my parents and let's use a real nuclear weapons company let's say it's Babcock and Wilcox. IT'S A BRAND NAME BABCOCK AND WILCOX DID NOT PERSONALLY SHOW UP IN AN AIRPLANE AND DROP A BOMB ON ME. If I really was up for revenge wouldn't I go after the people who illegally purchased the bomb and attacked my country? Tony Stark is not responsible for the death of her parents and I'm so mad that they never resolve this point of contention. They just never bring it up again?? Make it make sense.
Anyway, I'm mostly neutral, if not annoyed by Wanda. She's a badly written character in a long line of badly written characters in the MCU.
#wanda maximoff#wandavision#putting in the anti tag but i'm not anti#anti wanda#anti wandavision#anti wanda maximoff#mcu critical#mcu criticism#ash does fandom
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A very long-winded essay about why I love Night in the Woods and The Ramayana makes me Big Mad ft. Lets Talk About Mental Illness™
So I was in this class called 'The Ecology of Language". Excellent class, 10/10 would recommend - and especially relevant in the Indian context in particular, but that's a topic for another day.
One of the things we talked about was the concept of 'relatibality' in media, which, I'm sure we can all agree is a large component of contemporary character or story-line development. Considering the context of modern readers, what that sometimes ends up looking like (in our society that is built on constantly being told we are lacking, and the subsequent need to satisfy manufactured desires), is some wonderfully nuanced characters in stories stories that are three-dimensional, well rounded, and well developed and written. It's pretty great.
And sometimes, what that means is that we have excellent characters that don't conform to the standard 'protagonist' stereotype. They might not even be 'good' (this is NOT a villain-apologist post). In fact, they might be complete idiots. They might be the people in stories who make all the wrong choices.
One such relatable character is Mae, and it's because she's an unmitigated train-wreck.
Anyone who knows the game probably knows what I'm talking about when I say the illustration style and character designs are gorgeous. Anyone who's ever dissociated probably knows what I'm talking about when I say that illustration style and character design were excellently used to create the sort of subliminal, surreal state of Mae's mind. And as you play the game, you see how that state of mind plays with the other characters, and - spoiler - it isn't great.
This is the first of the relatable aspects of Mae’s character; there are people around her who love her and are worried about her, but at the same time, are angry and irritated about her behaviour. At what point does it become too much to ask of those around you to forgive all your continuous and repetitive mistakes? Even if you have a good reason for it, mental illness is not an excuse for being exploitative, even if it is unintentional. Mae is not trying to hurt the people around her, but she constantly needs emotional labour from them – it’s exhausting, and people’s patience is going to run out eventually, as is their right.
Another aspect of this behaviour is the lack of reciprocity, an example of this being when Bea’s mother died of cancer – and Mae didn’t even notice.
There are several instances of Mae’s thoughtless behaviour throughout the game; she gets completely wasted and makes a scene at the party, gets jealous of of Greg and Angus because they’re leaving the town without her, and ends up destroying the radiator Bea was supposed to fix, getting her in trouble.
The thing is though, that Mae is given the opportunity to fix her mistakes.
A large part of relatability is the want so see yourself in a character. Mae is relatable to me because there are several circumstances and events in our lives that match up, but more than that; the game is an interactive visualization of her healing process. Her nine steps, if you will. She is given a second chance – and that chance is hard won, particularly in the context of the game.
Mae talks about feeling like she’s falling behind, of knowing that she is, in a way, wasting an opportunity that was a privilege in the first place, especially considering her family’s financial situation – but at the same time, being literally unable to help herself. And the aspects of the gameplay that hint at the supernatural elements of the story possibly being a figment of Mae’s imagination – well. All us depressed losers know what it's like to not be able to trust your own judgement and point of view. She talks about why she dropped out of college, and her description of the dissociation, and the mental and emotional deadening that it causes is spot on and so well represented.
It underscores the point that the logical brain knows that mental illness is an illness like any other – but the emotional brain doesn’t care.
The game does a brilliant job of laying bare the realities of middle class life, and makes painfully clear the fact that, at that level, it doesn’t matter how difficult things are for you. The world isn’t going to wait for you to get back on your feet.
Mae’s mental state and the limitations it imposes on her cultivates a state of extreme frustration. Again, relatable. It’s an understated aspect of illness of any kind; the anger at yourself, and how that anger carries over into a lot of things in your day to day life. After a point, it becomes a habit. Mae does this too; she's belligerent, and instigative, and unrepentant of consequences, because anger blinds you.
It's not how things will always be. I have the privilege of hindsight, so I can say that with authority. But, this isn’t the kind of thing that ever fully leaves you, either. If you break a kneecap, it’s going to bother you for the rest of your life, and similarly, mental illness has a ‘no return, no refund’ policy. So you grow up, and you try to adapt those habits and impulses into a more positive context. Recycling, right? Maybe you set your sights on things that actually deserve your anger, and you go from there. You find people who, for their own reasons, perhaps or perhaps not related to your own, are angry.
And you don’t understand the people who are not.
A large part of the anger and frustration surrounding mental illness is due to the stigma surrounding it. It’s frustrating to be so powerless and dependent, but this is exacerbated by the attitude of ‘it can’t be that bad’, which makes it so difficult to reach out, to be able to say, ‘I need a break’ – and actually get one. This is an attitude that carries over to a lot of other issues as well, and the worst part is – we are surrounded by people who are okay with it, who believe in and support that mentality.
The myth of Sita, for example. She is a strong female figure in Indian mythology, who overcomes her circumstances to live a ‘good’ life, and for all intents and purposes, is a hell of a role model.
But that’s the thing; her life wasn’t good, was it? She was supposed be a goddess reincarnated, she should have been powerful, and respected, but instead she is reduced to ‘wife’ – and everyone today is fine with it.
I respect her immensely for the choices she made; marrying for love was her choice, going into exile with her husband was her choice. She was the paragon of virtue, of 'wifeliness', of kindness – she chose her husband over everyone and everything else, including herself, as was expected of her. But yet – she couldn't win his trust or respect. It should not even have needed to be won.
It’s commendable the way she takes it all in stride, but why did she? She was kidnapped and held captive for years, entirely against her will, and her husband's response to that is to force her to walk through fire to prove her ‘purity’ – and she does it. And she stays with him after, and I cannot understand the depths of her patience and forgiveness, because I would have been livid, and I want her to be so too. I’m furious for her, because Ram was not just her husband, he was also the king, and his later verdict to exile her, alone, while heavily pregnant, his readiness to condemn her based on speculation and public sentiment, was not just a verdict against her, it was against every woman in his kingdom who had ever been victimised.
Sita became a martyr to the modern feminist movement – if she could not be angry on her own behalf, we will do it for her. But at the same time, she is still relatable, because we are held to a slightly lesser degree of the same expectations. There are always going to be aspects of things that you relate to. ‘Big Mood’ culture is a strong indicator of the human ability to empathise, especially with characters that you like, or respect.
Sita’s world, I imagine, was run by the expectations her society and community had of her, and maybe she didn’t even have the liberty to be angry. Who is responsible for portraying her in passive acceptance of her fate? Is that representation reliable? Would the story have been different had it been written by a woman?
I can't remember a time when I was not angry, especially about things like this. I am always ready to fight, and I think the same goes for so many other people today, sometimes to our detriment. I cannot imagine a world where that was not at the very least an option. Not necessarily the best option, - but Sita’s world was very different to ours. Even with centuries between us, we’ve just gotten over angry and depressed women being labelled as ‘hysterical’ and subsequently being locked away. What is it like, to have to be calm and careful in response to being treated like this? This care in response may not be an overt requirement anymore – though the fact remains that society will not take you seriously if you become hysterical - but shouldn't you, at the very least, be able to rely on the support of other people in the same boat?
That is the main difference in these stories, and another main point of relatability to me; Mae, like myself, had a support system. Sita did not. Mae was selfish and demanding in so many ways, and required a lot of time and patience and healing before she was able to give back, but she got there eventually because she was able to put herself first. She fought for herself, and when she couldn’t, she had other people to fight for her. Night in the Woods represents the intersection of oppressed minorities and community with their portrayal of Mae, Greg, and Angus in particular, and the importance of community support – and, the difference between geographical community, and communities formed through camaraderie and actual unity. And so does the Ramayana - except, where was Sita’s community? Where were her sisters, or her parents, when she was abandoned in the woods, and later when she committed suicide? We are well aware, in the modern day, of the state of mind that causes people to kill themselves, and yet that is a part of the story that we never talk about. Where were her people then?
What would have happened if she had been more like Mae, and put herself first instead of bleeding herself dry for people who never respected her, and would never do the same for her?
People relate to personalities. They relate to choices, and circumstances, and habits, and it is neither a good nor a bad thing, to be relatable or not. Sita will be highly relatable to people who, like her, were governed by their circumstances, and were screwed over despite their best efforts. People who felt they couldn’t, or shouldn’t exercise their power and agency. Sita’s death was at odds with her strong personality, and so was her deference to her fate on many occasions, but there are a lot of people out there who will relate to the feeling of simply wanting things to be over. Mae on the other hand; she’s a steamroller, and she doesn’t stop. There’s a reason her character is a cat, and jokingly referred to as feral in the game. She is persistent, she is growing.
[1] In Defence of Kaikeyi and Draupadi: a Note – by Fritz Blackwellhttps://www.jstor.org/stable/23334398?read-now=1&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents
[2] https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2015/10/emergency-room-wait-times-sexism/410515/
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Teddy Bear Anon has purposed yet another interesting addition to the Immune AU which gives me plot ideas! In particular, a scene that would really help give past Dream a strong push into his character arc.
I like to image that immune!Dream’s character arc starts with the death of immune!Puffy. Sure, maybe he’s not sad yet, but he feels something for the woman who declared herself his pseudo mother. It’s what helps to crack the shell enough for the rest of the immune gang to start weedling their way into his heart. Immune!Dream after spending enough time watching the group he, starts to realize that yeah, connections to other people isn’t a weakness. It really is a strength. It’s something that takes time for him to come to terms with because Techno seems like a testament to the fact connections are a weakness. He was unbeatable until his horse got kidnapped. His only connection, his only weakness. But then there’s Tommy who seems to represent the complete opposite.
Where Dream represents strength from caring too little, Tommy represents strength from caring far too much. Now I’m a sucker for bamf Tommy, and I like to personally imagine that maybe the Immunes hold out for a year or two before they cave and try to make the portal. So Tommy has what really boils down to a two year training arc on top of already being a child veteran (I like to canonize SMP Earth as well because personal preference and it gives me even more room to make Tommy suffer. SMP Earth being canon? God, so much fucking trauma considering how the others treated him, a 15 year old child, like an adult.) Anyway Dream slowly realizes connections with one another are what kept the remaining Immunes alive, and he tries to force his younger self to understand that. Tries, but doesn’t really get far. Up until what everyone else calls The Fight.
Tommy’s always just kind of screwed around in fights as long as there’s only a threat to him. We know he has a tendency to throw if MCC is any indicator. But then they time travel and maybe they spend some time in the past trying to get the situation sorted and the past’s Dream maybe just kinda does something to Tubbo. Doesn’t even have to be big, it just needs to clock as a threat to Immune!Tommy who’s already lost his Tubbo and refuses to let his younger self go through that. So Tommy goes completely ape shit on the younger Dream. Sure, it’s only been two years for this Tommy. He’s probably, like, 18 or 19 at most. Still a child as far as a lot of people are concerned. He shouldn’t be stronger than Dream or Technoblade, and in the few cross group sparing sessions they’ve had he isn’t. He’s stronger than his younger self but no where near these two demi gods of combat. But then Dream suddenly registers as a threat to Tubbo in Immune!Tommy’s eyes and he makes the mistake of mocking Tommy while he’s at it. He knows that immune!Tommy lost his Tubbo and maybe the past Dream is lashing out slightly or trying to get some kind of foothold in Tommy’s psyche. He isn’t doing anything near what immune!Dream has done, but it’s enough to piss Tommy off. So immune!Tommy challenges Dream to a fight and Dream immediately realizes the mistake he’s made when Tommy starts to destroy him.
Say even Techno’s there for some reason or another and he realizes what’s going down so he tries to calm Tommy down, joining the fight just as Dream is loosing it. The situation quickly turns into the first time Techno’s ever gotten his ass thoroughly kicked by Tommy, leaving everyone spectating baffled (Tommy’s younger self partly included). They’re certain this kid is going on some rampage and none of them can stop him but the moment Dream and Techno are both taken care of (wounded, not killed, the older Tommy is always careful about that. He even throws a splash healing on them with some indifferent kind of disgust that hides the fact he does still care to some extent even hurting as he is.) Tommy immediately just switches focus to outright doting on Tubbo, ignoring any muttered Clingyinnits in favor of ensuring Tubbo is fine. Tubbo is completely find and just as confused, but the point stands and neither Tommy ends up leaving Tubbo’s side for the rest of the day. The younger Tommy, after all, is the only one the older Tommy’s told the full story to regarding the future (even when he couldn’t trust his own family he was always able to trust himself with the secrets that mattered, so he prepares his younger self in case the worst comes to pass.)
The older Dream, immune!Dream, he doesn’t get involved. He sit on the side lines and just kinda laughs, the sound drowned out by Sapnap’s loud encouragements and Sam’s half hearted attempts to get Tommy to stop (he could have stopped Tommy immediately if he’d stepped in. Sam is after all the only person on earth Tommy listens to without hesitation, but Sam lets it happen and pretends he tried.)
Immune!Dream just kinda smirks at his younger self later that night and mentions something about attachments really making you weak. After all, it’s not like the only time Tommy takes a battle seriously is when someone he cares about is in danger. It’s not like Tommy would turn the world into a seared ball for Tubbo, and Tubbo would do the same in return. It’s not like they’ve watched the people they care about temporarily rebuke the Crimson just to give the Immunes those precious extra seconds needed to survive in a fight. Attachments, they’re just a weakness.
The younger Dream doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s the first time he thinks about his older self maybe being right.
Before I go I wanna leave you with two more ideas for the Immune AU
First up, Wilbur is eight years older than Tommy give or take. Wilbur had Fundy when he was around 16 and Tommy was around 8. Tommy was the best damn uncle he could be and for a while Tommy and Fundy were really stupidly close. They were both apart of the raised by Wilbur club and Wilbur was trying his damn best. Fundy aged/matured (physically and mentally) faster than a regular person for a while. They believed it was because he was a fox hybrid and Wilbur was ready to lose Fundy too soon. When Fundy was equivalent to 18 in human years though his aging process suddenly slowed to a crawl and his tail split into two, at which point the group realized he was actually a kitsune and it was just those first 8 years that passed by quickly (and Wilbur had a lot of questions for the now missing Sally who he’d thought was a salmon hybrid, genuinely, but became exceedingly less sure.) His family knows he’s a kitsune, but Fundy hid it from most of the rest of the server. A good thing considering later events.
Fundy was part of the Immune group for a while and I like to imagine that he and Tommy had a falling out during the Pogtopia era but after the egg started to take over they started bonding again and acting like, well, family. Unfortunately when it came time for them to activate the portal, Fundy ended up getting separated from the group and getting caught. The eggpire didn’t actually know Fundy was fully immune or a kitsune so he just kinda pretended to get infected, using his illusions to make his fur look crimson. I personally like the idea that Fundy at some point managed to get back to the time machine and being a little code wizard manages to get the thing working and yeets himself in. He shows up a little late but after fixing his appearance manages to catch up with the rest of the group.
Fundy is underrated. Tommy being a good uncle is underrated. Sam would absolutely adopt the traumatized fox baby in Eret’s honor. What’s not to love?
The last concept I wanna bring up that I really like is hybrid Tommy. Tanuki would be good since it’s another reason for the Sam Nook bit. Maybe Sam specifically picked Sam Nook since Tom Nook was Tommy’s favorite character on the grounds he was the only representation Tommy had ever gotten and it made the kiddo happy. However, I also personally really like phoenix Tommy and it would make an interesting plot point. Tommy accidentally losing his third life at some point and realizing he’s an immortal creature of fire would have led to him taking a protector role for his new family. He can’t die, but he can burn anything around him, why not send him out to get supplies when the worst the eggpire could do would be capture him. Even then he just literally cannot hear the egg. Which could lead to both some interesting comedic moments and some really good angst if Sam agonizes over his desire to protect Tommy and let him be a child suddenly being at odds with the fact Tommy is literally the best person for the job so to speak. Not to mention Sapnap, who I headcanon as a Blaze hybrid, would be even more attached the moment he found a new fire proof friend to burn forests with him. Regardless of which hybrid type he is, I could see him hiding it from everyone except for Fundy when he was a child and only ever admitting it later to the other Immunes once they become a found family.
Personally I like the idea of Tommy being part tanuki hybrid and part phoenix hybrid, but is that too mary sue? Is it just a little bit too cheesy to have him be both? I will never not try to incorporate phoenix Tommy into my fics but also tanuki Tommy would be such a mood for this au.
Like image Tommy just builds a den that’s in reality a vault/panic room a la Techno and he hides it under Church Prime since that is The Safe Spot in Tommy’s mind.
~Snapdragon & Firefly
#dream smp#dream smp au#immune au#dream#dreamwastaken#captain puffy#tommyinnit#tubbo#technoblade#wilbur soot#fundy#awesamdude#sapnap#submission#snapdragon & firefly#okay all of these ideas are so good#i really like the idea of tommy being part tanuki and part phoenix hybrid#i like this so much#i like all of these ideas#long post
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Obey Me: The Brothers Accidentally Trigger an Abused MC: Satan (4/7)
Disclaimer: I’m not an expert on abuse or mental health. I’m not portraying how one should respond to these situations, only how I think the characters might. Abuse and trauma in particular are very complex topics, and people respond in all sorts of ways to them, and sometimes it gets really bad on all sides.
I can only draw from my personal experiences as well as those of people who have shared their stories or who I’m close with. There’s no one narrative of abuse and how it affects someone, so what I’m familiar with might not be what you’re familiar with. Let’s try and all be respectful of each other.
Content Warnings: Heated arguments, reference to past abuse, parental abuse, trauma response, breaking down in tears, this is quintessential hurt/comfort y’all, buckle up
It’s Satan’s turn! The fun thing about Satan is he’s super in control of himself until he absolutely isn’t, and then it’s terrible for everyone involved.
Lucifer (X), Mammon (X), Leviathan (X), Satan (you are here), Asmodeus (X), Beelzebub (X), Belphegor (X)
That one there is Satan, the fourth eldest of us. At first glance, he may seem like a responsible demon with a good head on his shoulders, but looks can be deceiving. [...] He may flash you a pretty smile like that, but you had better be careful because it is all an act.
MC had been warned about the Avatar of Wrath the day they arrived in the Devildom. While his brothers wear their sins on their sleeves, Satan keeps his almost entirely under wraps. His anger comes out like steam from the edges of the lid covering a boiling pot, hissing quiet but heated remarks, only exploding into something more dangerous if disturbed.
But as they spent more time with him, MC found it harder and harder to associate Lucifer’s warning with the demon in front of them. Yes, Satan could be prickly if provoked, and he certainly has a fair share of issues to work through, but he wears soft sweaters, and reads trashy romance novels he hides under the jackets of more sophisticated looking nonfiction titles, and would turn the House of Lamentation into a cat shelter if left unsupervised. And so that warning became as serious to them as Mammon’s pitiful mugging attempt when they first met all those months ago.
An easy mistake.
As it’s so unusual for Satan to express his anger in an obvious manner, MC is very concerned when they see him storm off to his room surrounded by the flaming aura of barely-contained magic. They chase after him without thinking, wanting to comfort their friend.
Satan’s room contains more than a room of its apparent size should. A small tower bedroom should not be able to hold the sprawling library it does, but the looming bookshelves stretch far into the darkness nonetheless. Despite this, the books still spill out from the shelves and form piles all over the room and even circle overhead in lazy loops. Though today, their master’s wrath propels them faster and faster, moving more erratically and occasionally crashing into furniture when they fall too low.
MC forgets to knock.
Satan’s head whips around, eyes blazing.
The books move before he registers who’s standing in the doorway.
Years of practice throws their body low to the ground to avoid the projectiles, but he has more, he has more and he’s still mad, mad at me mad at me my fault my fault still more still more don’t move don’t move-
Footsteps, a voice, he’s yelling, he’s yelling, yelling at me I did it again no no no-
A hand reaches out to them.
“PLEASE DON’T-!” their scream rips out of their throat and Satan freezes.
MC’s eyes shine with tears, open wide and-
Staring.
At.
Him.
Like a monster.
Satan’s tail wraps around his leg tight enough to draw blood. “Well? What are you going to do, MC? Leave? Run away from the monster?”
They’re shaking, but can’t move from their position on the floor. “GO ALREADY! Or a couple of measly books will be the least of your problems!”
They scramble to their feet, barely upright as they half sprint, half tumble down the stairs.
A loud THUD echoes through the House of Lamentation as, for the first time in countless years, all of the books in Satan’s room fall to the floor, lifeless.
Until they burst into flames, and the spire hosting the Avatar of Wrath’s bedroom ignites in the roar of a viridian inferno.
It takes the careful spellwork of Lucifer, aided by a frantic Leviathan, to keep the fires sequestered to Satan’s tower. Even still, seeing the entire structure ablaze like that is terrifying for MC, both because of its unprecedented scale and the knowledge of who is causing it.
The brothers, minus Satan, congregate outside the House of Lamentation in a semi circle of annoyance. Levi, Asmo, and Mammon quickly get into an argument about whose personal items are more valuable and worth saving in the event of a house-wide fire, while the twins grouse about being pulled away from their very important activities of raiding the fridge and napping, respectively.
Both Lucifer and MC are not listening to them, for very different reasons. Their gazes are fixed on the burning tower, Lucifer a cool mask of stoicism and MC vacant and nearly unblinking. They stay like this for a long moment, as the bickering of the others settles into a hum of white noise.
“MC.” They start upon hearing Lucifer’s voice.
“You saw him just before this.”
A fit of blinking, ending with a sniff and a nod.
“I-I didn’t mean to- He looked so ups-set, I just…”
“Stop.” They freeze as Lucifer lowers himself to their eye level. He holds out his hand towards their shoulder and then pulls it back, thinking better of it. “I am not blaming you. Satan’s lack of self control is not your fault.
“What concerns me right now is your wellbeing.”
“O-Oh. Well, it was pretty startling, but I wasn’t burned or anyth-”
“What did he say to you that prompted such a strong response?” Silence. “This,” Lucifer gestures broadly to MC, “is not because of the fire. Something happened before, that upset the both of you. What was it?”
“SAAATAAAAAAAAAAN!”
Oh, that’s just who he needs to deal with right now.
A couple of choice curses flicker through Satan’s mind as he continues to sort through his books, cataloguing which ones were completely destroyed by the fire and which were unscathed or can be salvaged. He pulls out a charred book from a pile of ashes and dusts off the partially melted cover. It’s barely identifiable, but…
One of MC’s recommendations, a murder-mysterty from the human world.
He drops it like it was still burning.
Lucifer navigates through the scorched shelves and piles of wreckage until he finds his brother, curled in on himself in a crouched position and shaking, surrounded by the remains of the knowledge he holds so dear.
His lecture dies in his throat.
“Satan-” The demon in question cuts him off.
“Get it over with.”
Lucifer says nothing.
“Go ahead!” Satan’s voice wavers as he speaks, unfolding from his pose just enough to challenge his brother. “Let me have it: I’ve tarnished Lord Diavolo’s oh-so-sacred reputation, I’ve ruined the exchange program, I have no self control, I-” He compresses back into himself. “I’ve terrified MC and they never want to speak to me again.”
“No,” Lucifer says. “For one, I think you understand well enough the consequences of your actions this time.”
When this provokes no response, he continues, “...and MC does want to speak with you.”
The expression on Satan’s face when his head snaps up to make eye contact with Lucifer reminds him of when the Avatar of Wrath was first born, all raw emotion and alert, untrusting eyes.
The conversation is painful, but very much needed. After hearing MC’s story, Satan is almost glad he just burned through the majority of his energy in that fire, as if he had even an ounce of it, he would dedicate it to tracking down and slaughtering MC’s loathsome parents. But for them, he pushes the feelings aside. For now.
He apologizes (many times) in words, but even after MC repeatedly tells him it’s okay and they understand, he doesn’t quite stop. His apologies manifest in actions instead: soft, concerned glances in MC’s direction when his brothers get into a spat; an outstretched hand and an offer to go on a walk when they’re feeling overwhelmed; book recommendations with recurring themes of overcoming trauma and not necessarily forgiving those who abused you.
He also adds something new to his room: a little enchanted tablet by the doorway displaying an unusual “weather” report. Thanks to special sensors placed throughout Satan’s room, the tablet can pick up the level of magical activity in the area and display an appropriate warning. Since he knows how volatile he can be when in an especially bad mood, Satan explains that the monitor will say what he can’t. Since it also measures the velocity of the flying books, it doubles as a pretty good warning service for incoming projectiles as well, he adds sheepishly.
“I know how hard it can be to forgive someone who’s hurt you, even accidentally. I’m so grateful you’ve given me a second chance, MC, and I fully intend on never letting it go to waste.”
Lucifer doesn’t address the final part of Satan’s remark. He doesn’t need to. His silence says enough.
Satan has done it. He’s turned away the only person who ever saw him as a unique person. The worst case scenario, the unthinkable nightmare, realized.
He’s fine. More than fine. He throws himself into his studies, marks higher than ever. While his smiles have never reached his eyes, they barely appear on his face at all. His mask is a fragile apathy that quickly crumbles into irritation whenever someone notices it. With his mood more volatile than ever, even his brothers distance themselves, unsure of how to approach him. He only shows up during mealtimes, and barely at that.
Sometimes smoke drifts out from the tower his room is in. No one acknowledges this.
He respects MC’s wishes, gives them space and time aplenty. He can wait. He deserves to wait.
He deserves this.
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What On Earth Has Happened
Hey, no story here, no experiments. Just a play by play of an awful year in my life. Please don't reblog. Trying to just get it down in one place for people who care about me.
Long, sob-story beneath the cut.
Air - 'Things are looking up!'
I had started to drift a bit from tumblr. The porno purge came and a lot of my friends trickled off the platform after that.
I went back to school, attempting to score myself a Masters degree in something that would pay enough to get me out of Student Debt. I was doing great, picking things up fast.
I got a new job at a company doing pretty menial work, but the people I worked with were great conversationalists. The work didn't involve dealing with customers at all, paid well, and was small and accomplishable tasks. Essentially I was being prepped to take a better position at the place once I had my Masters.
Covid happened, then.
Earth - 'The Whole World Sucks Right Now'
My company was "essential," so I continued going to work, now on weird schedules. The company I worked for was profiting off Covid, all the while making fun of it as an overblown conspiracy, even as their own epidemiologist urged them to take better precautions. Work became hard to swallow.
Water - 'When your lowest place could be lower'
The apartment I shared with my boyfriend flooded. The lowest place in any sewage system is typically the bathtub, such that if it backs up, it does so into that tub. Our lowest point is the toilet. So the apartment flooded. Three times. Roots growing through the sewage outflow meant that, often, you needed to wait a solid hour between toilet flushes, or else the toilet would back up with such gusto the sewage would slosh down the hallway and into the living room. We mopped many times. The problem was finally fixed 8 months later, necessitating our having to camp because our house had no water.
Fire - 'To destroy all you've done'
One afternoon, I smelled burning. Going to our bedroom, I found our shelf a column of flame. I could barely breathe for all the smoke, but I managed to grab a blanket and beat the fire out. On the other side of the room, the pages of the books upon another shelf had begun to crisp from the heat, the blinds on all the windows were warped. The whole apartment had been about to go up. I'm kinda scared of fire now.
Heart - 'When moving is too much to ask'
Personal health sorta hit a new low. Migraines kept me out of work for two full weeks. I have seasonal foot pain, I always assumed from hiking for a living in my 20s. Turns out it was gout, all the while. Gout is exceptionally painful: it's like a messy pile of razor blades in the ball of your foot every time you step down. At work, I could barely stand. Walking from my car to the door became something I needed to psyche myself up for. Not a lot can stop a gout flare-up once it's in full swing, so I just had to wait it out. For a month. Two. Some of the worst sustained pain I've been in. Little did I know that, in January, come the kidney stones. Kidney stones feel awful. Feel like total shit. Gout and kidney stones are comorbid--brought about as a result of the meds I take to help me focus. So any day I don't drink enough water is a day when my kidneys or my foot just starts aching. But going back to September of 2020...
Homophobia - 'goddammit'
Finally things are looking better. I'm limping quickly again.
Then I am called into the HR office.
I am told that two sexual harassment charges have been brought against me.
I'm told that one individual has alleged that I, while in the restroom, used a reflective toilet brush to attempt to peep him under a stall wall. I did not do this. I do not understand--reflective toilet brush?? wtf.
The second allegation: I just straight up looked over a stall at a guy. I didn't do this either.
I'm asked to defend myself, I ask who or date or time of day. I am given nothing. I remark that I don't think I'm tall enough to see over the stall, and I do not understand about the toilet brush. Of the ten minutes of the meeting, I spend 8 of them trying to get my head around how a claim about a reflective toilet brush has me here.
"Would you like us to go now to see if you're tall enough to see over the stall? If that would help your defense?" says the HR head.
"Yes, I
would," says I.
We did not go. I am told that the accusers have no reason to be collaborating, or to even know each other made a claim. This is bullshit, because it was a company of 80 people, and only a quarter of those employees used the restroom where my alleged harassment was to have taken place.
Before I am dismissed from work for the day to go home and wait to find out if I'll be fired or not, I march into the HR office once more and say "I hope none of this is happening because I'm gay." The HR head looks positively offended.
I got fired cuz I'm gay.
Next day I got a call. They'd come to the "objective truth" (that phrase is burned in my mind), and were terminating me. Apparently they discounted the toilet brush rumor, after all. But they really honestly believed I looked over the stall at a dude.
Nightmare - 'No Fear One Fear'
Let me tell you something: this is a nightmare. This is my honest-to-god nightmare. I've been terrified of getting accused of something in a bathroom since I was 11 years old. I am incredibly self-conscious and careful in public restrooms. To be fired? From a place full of people I like? And all of them will think I'm a pervert. My boyfriend worked at the same place. He would now have to work there every day dealing with people looking at him and wondering what he must think of his boyfriend.
That sent me on a spiral. I'm still out of work, almost a year later. It would have been the worst mental health crisis of my life if it wasn't for my boyfriend, my support network, and the meds I've finally been able to get ahold of.
Oh, also. My two accusers? Were roommates. HR knew they were roommates. They basically collaborated on a story to get me fired. The story circulating around the place (I still have acquaintances I talk to working there) has dropped the reflective toilet brush entirely. I guess they thought it was too unbelievable. So anyway, the people who accused me are now telling a different set of events than what I was told. Absolute horse shit.
Tried to go to my city's human right's council to see if my situation warranted further attention. I gave my side of the story--including tales of the straight manager who had had enough harassment charges brought against him that he was no longer allowed to meet female staff--which indicated I'd been treated differently and wrongly. My old job made an impassioned argument that the committee violated their First Amendment rights(?) ('Freedom of speech' is the biggie with the First Amendment, for people who cba re:USA). I won the vote!!
But one member of the committee was missing. So there weren't enough people for the vote to pass. Dismissed.
We took it to the EEOC to make an official federal complaint. Just a week ago, an agent of the US Government patiently explained to us that these laws are literally designed to fuck over the worker and protect the employer unless they are epically stupid, and unfortunately, mine had not been epically stupid. So there's nowhere to go, no recourse to be had. It's over, I guess.
Family - 'How to sum it up quickly...'
My family hit me with the old soft-disown. No more calls, no more communication. They think they are loving me by not having contact with me. By depriving me of my family, they hope it will make me realize that the path I'm on is destructive, and I'll return to them living an upright life.
No.
I'm living an upright life, now. And if my family can choose to throw me away, then they are not a family I choose.
Then my dad hit me back two months later, absolutely gaslighting me and pretending we never had the disown conversation at all.
Reality - 'I don't know who I am anymore'
I have trouble knowing what's real, anymore. Every message my dad sends on the surface seems loving and supportive and plaintive. I feel I must be the one in the wrong. I got fired for bullshit reasons. It doesn't feel real. "My family can't possibly have ceased contact with me: that's one of those things I know can never happen!!" But that did happen. So what else that feels real, actually isn't?
I do
mean to be so dramatic, and I won't apologize for it. But I truly do feel like my mind has been pretty thoroughly unseated by the last year. Whoever I am, I'm becoming someone different. More distilled, at very least.
I've discovered a lot of things about myself: trauma that has likely led to a lot of my mental health problems. Discovered I actually have RAGING ADHD, and it has robber me of a lot of things I wanted to do, and now is sort of consuming me completely.
I'm looking for help. Trying to get better. Here's hoping. Every bold point above could be its own book, for all my thoughts about them. But enough of that for now.
Love you. Thanks for reading.
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