#It's wrong about things often. That does not make it an unreliable narrator. That makes it a person.
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I do dislike how watered town the concept of an 'unreliable narrator' has become at least on this website. Any time a narrator shows even the slightest bit of bias they're deemed an unreliable narrator when like.... that's called being human? Everyone's worldview is subjective and the way you view the events around you is inherently biased. A limited POV is going to reflect this bias. Unless this bias distorts the narrative at hand on a fundamental level (see: Lolita), that does not make the narrator unreliable. Being wrong about things does not make you an unreliable narrator. If it did, it'd render the term worthless because then literally everyone ever would be an unreliable narrator.
#This post was brought to you by the 'stop calling murderbot an unreliable narrator' gang#Murderbot is traumatized and its worldview is shaped by that. The narration reflects this.#It's wrong about things often. That does not make it an unreliable narrator. That makes it a person.#On a fundamental level murderbot is able to perceive reality and report this reality to us with reasonable accuracy#Its biases do not distort the narrative so heavily as to warrant the label of unreliable narrator#It's not an unreliable narrator it's just a traumatized first person narrator#My posts#Writing wise
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I’ve been feeling really sad lately bc after this latest rise in anti transmasc sentiment I’ve had to unfollow some trans women I’ve been following for literal years bc they started reblogging and posting really nasty and very uncharitable things abt transmascs on my feed. And like. These are women whose voices I very much respected and listened to, and to hear them basically say they consider me an enemy who can’t be trusted bc I want to talk about my experiences, but all of our issues are really just splash damage from bigotry directed at them and talking abt my own experiences without acknowlefing that it’s not really meant for me is wrong. It’s like. So hurtful. And it makes me feel really hopeless about the future of the trans community.
How do I fight back against that hopelessness?
it really sucks and i'm sorry you're also being affected by this. i hear people talk about this every single day and i really don't like that this is just becoming a default in the trans community in general. it seems like the default mode of most online queers is hating transmascs and trans men as if that will somehow make cishet society accept them more. it's selfish behavior.
i'm an intersex trans woman and it's hard for me to interact with the online transfem and trans woman communities, because we're seeing a new experience in the form of transradfeminism, where trans women proudly adopt the anti-man ideals from rad feminism and spread it like it's the truth. it's a sad and painful thing to say, but these trans women are doing this because they believe rad fems and women who hate men are the only "Real" women and desperately want to be seen as "real" women. it stems from their personal dysphoria rooted in manhood, how they take out their own dysphoria in being seen as men on men and mascs. it comes from a place of pain, and it is misguided. instead of directing their hatred toward transmisogyny, they keep it inside the community. it's vile.
it's really sad but trans women and transfems are not immune to being indoctrinated by rad fems and terfs. applying those ideals to being trans isn't progressive. dictating who is and isn't trans is an act of policing. feeling as though one has the right to sit there and claim to know every trans experience, claiming to be the authority on transness... it's fascism.
i'm just plain tired of hearing people make fun of afab trans people and trans men and to talk about them like they're a blight on the community. im tired of people saying things like "do we really need more men?" i'm really sick and tired of chronically online people saying that trans men "aren't real trans people". this one really pisses me off. implying that trans womanhood and transfemininity are the only "real" ways to be trans is also identity policing. what is "unreal" about trans men? i'm tired of trans men being treated like they're unreliable. i'm tired of people wearing their misogyny on their sleeve to constantly treat trans men like they are not reliable narrators. i'm tired of people thinking somehow the instant you begin identifying as a man, you benefit from patriarchy.
i'm tired that people seriously think trans men and mascs can't coin terms for their own experiences. why the hell not? they happen, just because you don't see them personally doesn't mean they don't happen. i have met and lived with so many transmascs over the years, and we've all shared very similar stories about the discrimination we face. it's not spitting in the face of anyone to coin terms like transandrophobia and antimasculism. they happen just as often as transmisogyny does, and happily participating in it only increases trans violence
these talking points are old and it sucks to see more and more trans women get indoctrinated into literal rad feminism. hating trans men will not make dysphoria around being seen as a man go away. hating trans men does not dismantle the patriarchy. hating afab people isn't progressive, it's misogynistic. hating intersex trans men isn't progressive, it's transphobic -and- intersexist. trans men deserve so much better than this. trans men are trans. trans men are people. trans men are not evil by virtue of existing
i say try to do your best to connect with and appreciate the other trans men and mascs in your life. we have to stick together. if you have transfem friends who are on your side, make sure to be there for them, too. not every trans woman is like this fortunately, most trans women are very chill about trans manhood. this is a vocal minority of people who want to be fascists and want to control and police other trans people. transradfeminism isn't progressive, it's just as bad as regular rad feminism, if not worse, because now there's an even bigger focus on hating trans people.
hating other trans people will never get you ahead in cisheteronormative society. try to take care of yourself as best as you can. really relish trans joy when you experience it. take time to affirm your gender. know that manhood is a blessing. manhood is beautiful. it is varied, nuanced, and complex. it is a wonderful thing to experience. men are not evil. men are not bad. we should never remove the accountability from individuals.
hating trans men makes you transphobic. there's just no other way to it. whether or not you accept that it's called transandrophobia, it is still transphobia, and you really should care. the trans community isn't here for just 1 type of trans person. it's here for all of us. good luck, stay safe out there. be good to yourself
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Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator
Part 2: The Story of wee Morag
This is Part 2 of 3 total metas. Here are:
Part 1, in case you want to read about my analysis of the Story of Job first
and Part 3, in case you're impatient and want to jump ahead.
Fair warning though, for the sake of understanding some of the references, you're probably better off reading this chaptered meta chronologically. However, every part should work just as well as a standalone! I'll do my very best to make it so.
Alright, off or on you go beyond the cutty cut!
I'll start this second part off with a very brief summary of the main take aways and points from Part 1, which go as such:
Memory, as opposed to a third party's narration, is not a factual, objective retelling of a story or event. It's mingled and mangled with emotions, imaginations and exaggerations, projecting both the feelings and impressions you had back then as well as those you might have now in the present time back on whatever it is you are remembering. (Which is why we need to put everything that Aziraphale is remembering into the context of what he might have felt in the past, as well as what he's feeling right now.)
While this doesn't mean his (or anyone's) memories are lies, it does mean they're a very subjective and sometimes factually distorted representation of what actually happened, which, in our case, gives us a lot of subtext and a lot of not-there furniture to figure out and look at.
So, let's continue with S2E3 and the Story of wee Morag. We start our flashback with a scene of Aziraphale writing his diary entry on the 10th of November, 1827. Immediately, it's firmly established that this is once again not an outside-point-of-view narration, but rather what Aziraphale remembers and wrote down.
One thing that immediately stuck out to me here, is how helpful and kind Crowley is to Elspeth, pretty much from the very beginning when they meet her in the graveyard. Not only does he take on a Scottish accent so she won't perceive him as English (as she does with Aziraphale), but he also helps her drag the barrel that has the fresh body in it and, in the end, even pulls it all by himself while Elspeth simply follows behind them. Here's a rather poor-quality picture, for reference:
Now, we know that despite not showing it very often, Crowley has always been very fond of the humans and never really put himself on a pedestal simply because he's an immortal being himself. He likes humans, just like Aziraphale does. But, just like this story will tell us, Crowley knows that on top of liking humans, you can't just put them into boxes of good and evil and expect them to always do what is supposedly the "right" or "divinely good" thing to do. (Which is what differentiates him from Aziraphale in the way he understands and treats them, as we're shown in this minisode).
Him immediately and unspokenly helping Elspeth with dragging the barrel therefore might also be a first sign of a tiny projection from present day Aziraphale, as opposed to what Crowley might have actually done (probably just walked beside her, like Aziraphale) because he has the knowledge that Crowley really was so very kind to her in the end, wasn't he? And that he's kind to humans in general. ("Not kind! Off my head on Laudanum!" Sure, babe.)
Most of this minisode, in my opinion, is actually there to establish how Aziraphale's view of morality and good vs. evil used to be quite flawed and elitist –– and how Crowley has always been there to gently nudge him towards questioning his black and white view of heavenly right and hellishly wrong. That's why I think there's not as many hints in this minisode about Aziraphale's memories not being an accurate portrayal of what happened, as there are in the Story of Job or the magic show in 1941. (And, fear not, the latter will definitely be the most hint-heavy one). Alas, there's still a few bits and bobs in the Story of wee Morag that stuck out to me, that make a brief yet good case of the whole unreliable narration thing.
First of all: The way Aziraphale describes all of it in his diary is so different from the way we see him actually remembering it. It's almost like he tried to write this entry (and possibly all of his diary) as a bit of a thrilling short story, with himself as the main character. Which makes sense, given the fact that he adores books and would certainly be keen on dabbling in the art of capital-w Writing himself. It's yet again hinting at the fact that sometimes people (and angels) try to polish and bedazzle stories (and memories) to make them seem more exciting and adventurous, often to distract from the not-so-fun parts of it.
Like when Aziraphale's diary narrates:
"It was with heavy heart we arrived at Elspeth's destination. I was determined to thwart her monstrous plan!"
... and yet we see Crowley and Elspeth casually walking down the alleyway, very obviously not heavy-hearted in the slightest, while Aziraphale nervously scurries on behind them, very obviously not determined to thwart. (Timestamp-wise, it's around 17:38 in S2E3, in case you want to see for yourself.)
We get another cinematographic/auditory hint at the fact that Aziraphale's memory is heavily influenced by what he's feeling that very moment, when Dr. Mister Dalrymple –– FRCSE, thank you very much –– shows him the tumor he removed from the seven year old boy. You can see the shock and horror on Aziraphale's face once he learns of this child's cruel fate. We then proceed to hear Mr. Dalrymple's voice grow sort of echo-y and far away as the sad music swells up and drowns out his voice almost completely. It's awfully similar to what it feels like when really horrible news are broken to you and you dissociate and drift into a state of shock. Here's the clip of it, so you may listen for yourself:
It's clear that this is a very subjective portrayal of what Aziraphale is going through during this part of the memory. He's deeply horrified and saddened about the little boy having passed away so early in life – and we hear and feel this shock with him. Through him, because this is his memory. Whatever it is he's feeling and thinking, we're feeling and thinking it too because we're seeing it through his lense.
Another (less sad) hint at a possible exaggeration is the abnormally deep hole Crowley makes the two graveyard watch keepers fall into. I'm pretty sure he's very much in charge of his miracles, making this random slip-up seem a little silly – which is why I'm also pretty sure the "Might have slightly overdone it on that hole" is a wee bit of a meta hint at this just being another one of Aziraphale's dramatic bedazzlements of this story. For the *flings feather boa around neck* drama!
You know what else might be exaggerated? Hm, I dunno, maybe Crowley growing into the size of a tree for no apparent reason. Sure, yes, he's pretty high on Laudanum which is making him a bit loopy. But apart from that, it does seem an awfully big cinematographic euphemism for him being the metaphorical (and, once again, for the drama of it) literal bigger person in this scenario. He's the one who ends up saving Elspeth and who manages to secure a safe life without poverty and grave robbing for her. While Aziraphale was so tangled up in his own moral journey and main character-ism, missing that wee Morag was seconds away from death already, Crowley is the one who actually ends up growing stepping up for the human in need and saving them for good (pun intended).
In a way, it might just be Aziraphale's view of/feelings for Crowley in this very moment. Watching the demon outgrow what, according to Aziraphale's heavenly logic, is supposed to be a foul fiend, bestowing evil upon humanity – and growing into someone who does the exact opposite and saves Elspeth instead. Another larger-than-life character development, in Aziraphale's eyes. Literally.
Let's switch back to the topic of the diary entry one last time, so I can make my final point of the this minisode's unreliable and a smidge over-dramatic narration of Dr. McFell. If you pay close attention, Aziraphale starts the entry we're all getting to experience with: "Last month, Crowley and I both happened to be in Edinburgh." Which means it didn't actually happen on the 10th of November, but rather at some point in October, 1827. Once we see Crowley get hydro-pumped back to Hell after rescuing Elspeth, the minisode ends with, presumably, the last sentence of Aziraphale's diary entry: "And that was the last I would see of Crowley for quite some time."
Take my hand and let's look at where the furniture isn't: This very clearly means that Crowley couldn't have been gone for more than a month, at best. Read again: "It happened last month and that was the last I would see of him for quite some time." This, albeit indirectly, clearly implies that when Aziraphale had sat down to write the diary entry, he had already run into Crowley again. Otherwise his phrasing would have probably been more along the lines of "... and I haven't seen Crowley since" or "... and Crowley has yet to return from wherever it is Hell's currently keeping him".
What's the point I'm trying to make? Good question. I guess my main point of storyteller Aziraphale being a bit over-dramatic in his narration is simply backed up by this, since A Single Month would barely pass as "quite some time" for an immortal being like him. And yet that's how he puts it, in his little Confidential Journals of A.Z. Fell, Vol. 603.
And another point that has absolutely nothing to do with the topic of this meta (but I'm still gonna make it 'cause this is my memory post): The meeting at St. Jame's Park in 1862 that so many, post-S2, took to be their first run-in after the Story of wee Morag, actually wasn't that at all. They saw each other at least once only a month later, as Aziraphale's diary lets us know. Which explains why he wasn't very surprised or concerned when he met Crowley in London, 1862. If there really had been 35 years in between those two events, the first one ending with Crowley being sucked back Downstairs to receive more than three decades worth of hellish punishment, wouldn't Aziraphale have been at least a tiny bit worried or more interested than:
Just saying.
Alright, let's string this inflated hot air balloon of a post back together so we can outline some invisible furniture. This time with only two humble points:
Crowley through Aziraphale's lense Backed up by how we are introduced to Bildad the Shuhite in the Job minisode (suave, cheeky, smart, passionate in shoemaking and obstetrics), it's growing quite clear that Aziraphale's memories and impressions of Crowley are very fond and impressed ones. He sees him as someone who's not only witty, funny and cool, but also as someone who has figured out way sooner and faster than him that nothing's ever black and white. Not God's plans and not the human's choices either.
Aziraphale as a bit of an exaggerating adventure author With the direct parallel we get of inkslinger journalist!Aziraphale in the present day, it's quite apparent after this minisode that Aziraphale's memory is not only deeply influenced by his emotions, but that he also tends to have a bit of a dramatic touch to him. Although, you gotta give it to the guy: A month without seeing the love of your life, even if said life is eternal, can indeed seem like "quite some time".
Well, would you lookie here, we've reached the end of Part 2! What a journey it was. I hope you forgive me for the fact that I drifted off-course a few times. I just can't seem to reel in my silly little observations, even if they've got nothing to do with the point I'm trying to make. But hey, doesn't that just make me a little bit like Aziraphale's storytelling, in a way?
I'll let you be the judge of that.
See you in Part 3! And in case you haven't snuck a peak yet: here's Part 1 again.
Ta!
#good omens#good omens season 2#gos2#go2#good omens 2#good omens meta#ineffable husbands#aziraphale#crowley#good omens analysis#aziraphale is a storyteller#but not a very accurate one#story of wee morag#my own meta#aziraphale the Drama Queen#shakespeare who#unreliable but beloved story teller aziraphale
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Psychopomp and What Things Mean When They Don't Mean Anything
So if you haven't noticed or you don't follow me, I recently became interested in a small, one-man dev team indie game by name of Psychopomp. As a brief synopsis and pitch, Psychopomp is a game about a woman who seemingly suffers from paranoid delusions, through the lens of this narrator she tells us that there's a labyrinth of catacombs hidden underneath every public building and sets out to explore them to uncover the world's secrets, armed with nothing but a store bought hammer.
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The game's intro puts it in words better than I could and more influential than any pitch is just seeing the protagonist's design.
As one commentator states, she looks like a skateboard mascot from the mid-2000s. Like she should be on those posters with a snarky quip just fucked up enough to catch those pearl clutching puritans off guard. I love the style and I love the tone and I love the premise.
This might be the best time to note that if you're interested in playing this game, you should stop reading here, as this discussion will contain spoilers. It's a short game, took me about 3 hours on my first playthrough, and it's pretty cheap, even has a free demo in the form of the base version with Psychopomp Gold serving as the expanded, completed experience.
Anyways.
I've always found conspiracy theories fascinating but in the modern age it can be hard to immerse yourself in these reality-detached belief systems without acknowledging, you know, the racist dogwhistling and tangible physical harm it's causing to society at the present moment. Psychopomp is able to pretty gracefully sidestep this issue by setting its anarchic anti-government sentiments against its protagonist's paranoid delusions rather than adherence to a faith or belief system.
Indeed, the game seems to take systemic beliefs as its central enemy. The entities that are necessary to kill to progress through its levels are defined by the systems they interact in, historical figures of elevated status, keystone positions in industrial manufacturing, even abstract systems like urbanism and DNA composition are posed as societal and oppressive. I'm not saying that there's no way to interpret the game in bad faith and make it directed at marginalized social, political, or ethnic groups, but I also struggle to imagine the person who takes the game literally on its face value?
Which I guess leads me to the main topic I wanted to discuss. The game very obviously has an unreliable narrator (for the record, the protagonist remains nameless for the bulk of the game, I will be referring to her as Venus as it's the closest she has to a name that's explicitly stated within the text itself) with the flavor of one whose intake of reality may be different from what's actually occurring. The game uses a combination of conspiratorial rambling and dream logic to stage its unreal tone; for example, one level delves into the "biology" of buildings, stating that they use graffiti to communicate and that black mold is a pheromone used to evacuate its inhabitants to allow for mating. Loading screens come with "Gameplay Tips" and "Real World Tips", both of which are often dense and inscrutable; for example you might get a pair like "Not all enemies are friends" and "Viruses do not exist. Illness is simply your body punishing you for what you've done wrong."
Surrealism and unreality as stylistic choices can be a bit of a tightrope walk to get right. On the one hand, if you make it explicit that a story takes place in a state that did not happen even within the story's universe, a dream or a hallucination, it can rob the narrative of its stakes, regardless of how well executed the internal metaphors are. Psychopomp very explicitly does not do this, regardless of what it is that Venus is experiencing, the game makes it clear through scientific logs and communications (as well as a brief epilogue set outside of her perspective) that something abnormal is happening, the question is just where in between normality and Venus's experiences does the truth of the game's narrative actually lie.
The other side of the tight rope is literal interpretation, presenting a setting that's absurd to our sensibilities but tangibly explainable, where meaning is supplanted by lore and the cosmology begins to solidify into a set of Calvinball rules that don't make sense, but are still adhered to, and this is the side Psychopomp threatens to lose me on. There is a credible argument to be made that there is no difference, that what Venus is experiencing is her reality without warping and distortion, it's a more credible argument than saying she completely fabricated all of it, and it's an argument I was starting to wonder wasn't the intended interpretation. Until I got the game's second, secret ending.
Psychopomp has one collectible that doesn't serve a direct gameplay purpose, but each catacomb has a key hidden away, often behind false mimic walls that bleed and scream when you hit them with your hammer, and which unlock new rooms in the only permanent location "Home". Initially a gray, cubical, concrete room with a single mattress and a small table with a radio on it, collecting keys allows you to further explore outside(?)/within(?) the home with a unique camera perspective and limited interaction. In the first layer there's a blob man who cries out in torment, demanding to know why you specifically made the world like this, giving some credence to the deification of Venus implied by the game's ending. In the last layer, Venus traverses underneath and past her own brain to unlock a repressed memory.
I take this as confirmation that there's some level of abstraction at play here. Under scrutiny it feels as though there must be some level of abstraction at play here because when taken as a whole, the conspiracies start becoming outright contradictory, even if you try to take the cosmology at play as fact, which are the closest thing to objective facts that we have.
See, Venus's perspective takes place an alternate Earth, one that both seemingly was broken off from the planet and now orbits it like a new moon but also has always existed. One of the locations is a natural history museum which explains the history of sentience on this counter-earth, humans rose, went extinct, were supplanted by a species called the thrait, then humans returned in a mutated form and retook the surface and forced the thrait back underground (though the museum also refers to the thrait as extinct despite being the most common friendly NPC you will encounter). Another location seems to imply that the humans of this world, or maybe only some of them, are artificial clay creatures, reinforced by the arbiters of the DNA factory too being clay alleles. The Human Seedbed even has the game's most effective jumpscare in it, where Venus cannot leave the area without being confronted with a jittering clay facsimile of herself.
But with that in mind, what the hell is Venus then? By no account is she one of these artificial clay people but then how did she get here? The game's introduction implies that she used to be a normal person, or at least closer to, with lived experiences inclusive of complete ignorance to this underworld, the game's endings imply that she's an immortal god-being who has been intentionally working towards her own reawakening, and that is actually one of the least ambiguous plot points within the narrative. None of the pieces of this world lock together to form a cohesive vision of a setting that operates on even the barest of internal rules, and yet the game in the same step refuses to be a character study or subconscious examination, I mean the epilogue is a damn sequel hook that involves assembling the damn Avengers to combat the ramifications of the events of the game.
So, I come to realize, I'm the problem. I might, in fact, be thinking about this too hard.
One of the locations in the game is called "Daddy's Bad Place". It is a single, tiny room of a house or apartment, frozen in a moment of tearing itself apart, that only contains a dusty old TV set with a small, pointless ornament sitting on top. In any other surrealist game, this isolated circle of clarity, a compact orb of recognizable terrain, would be a moment to deliver one single jolt of reality into the metaphor of the protagonist's journey through their own subconscious.
In Psychopomp the TV turns on and delivers a distorted warning about a giant insect which is deadly, deceitful, and above all, not real.
In Daddy's Bad Place I come to realize something. The lore is fake, the characterization is fake, the dichotomy of truth and delusion is fake, the insect is not real. Let's think about what I'm doing here for a moment, right? I'm trying to discern the truth from within a work of fiction. None of its true, none of it happened, what difference does it actually make?
The thing about conspiracy theories is that they don't make logical sense. It's a known phenomenon that conspiracy theorists love to debate, but cannot be reasoned out of their beliefs by facts or logic. There is never a counter, but always a failsafe argument that can be retreated to for safety. What conspiracy theories do make is emotional sense, they make narrative sense. The line that initially sold me on Psychopomp was one of the aforementioned loading screen tips, "All the food you've ever eaten is rotten. You have never tasted fresh food."
Patently false statement, does not hold under scrutiny, but I, as someone who lives in America and lives in a city center and has to get all my food through corporations, can look at a statement like that and say yeah. Checks out. I believe you. We would know if children were being smelted into egg slicers underneath public schools, but it resonates with our emotions about the systems of education we enforce upon children, so it could be true. We would know if buildings were a living, reproducing organism, but it resonates with the feelings of being born into a world where urbanism exists, has existed as permanent fixtures of the world, and is continuously encroaching upon the face of the world, so it could be true.
Anyone who understands the fundamentals of incentives and human psychology does not need to believe that there is a coordinated group of ontologically evil individuals driving the world to ruin for ruin's sake, but that narrative still feels true, it becomes validating in the ways that it plays off of the emotions of believers until it becomes a foundational pillar of belief that cannot be destroyed by logical contradiction.
Psychopomp, in the same way, presents information about its internal systems that cannot be true logically but form self-justification anyways through emotional resonance. It doesn't matter if the lore works because its stated, it isn't wrong, so it must be a truth. This is the way that Psychopomp emulates the unreality of the conspiracy theory in a way that can avoid the disturbing implications of the real world practice. I've made comparison to surrealism by dream logic and surrealism by internal self-reflection, but this is a different mode entirely and the game simply refuses to operate by those tropes at its core. Conspiracy is itself contradiction, not the soft contradiction of two halves of a dream that don't lock together, but the hard contradiction of attempting to apply emotion and narrative to a waking world that rejects either premise. Psychopomp, then, is surrealism by way of conspiracy.
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“You didn’t do your research!” (No, my character is just ignorant)
I read a book where one character was a vlogger/professional photographer. I’m no professional myself but I do have a couple nice Canons and the equipment and I know my way around them and Lightroom and video editing. This was a major aspect of this character, not just a side hobby mentioned every so often.
This writer, importantly, was not a photographer and as I was reading, I knew immediately that they didn’t do their research.
Now, had this character been written as a novice, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Had this been written as a hobby of theirs and not part of the main plot of the story, even, I would have let it slide. But the book said this character was an expert, and yet showed me a completely different story.
In this case:
Do your research
Or pick a field you are already knowledgeable in
Or put that trait in the background
—
But what if you have a character who really is a novice?
For example, Elias, my protagonist of Eternal Night, grew up incredibly sheltered. He does not know his way around a bow and arrow. I, however, very much do. I own a compound bow and have shot recurve bows. Dorian, my deuteragonist, has had a couple centuries to learn his way around archery, along with everyone else in the cast.
So when I write Elias shooting, or Elias POV talking about it, Elias can get away with doing and naming everything completely wrong because he has no idea what he’s talking about. Dorian can’t. Dorian is how I show my knowledge of the sport—that I did, in fact, do my research.
Do you need an example character? No, I just happen to have one.
The amount of times I have beta’d WIPs where authors are very much out of their depth could be solved in such a simple way: Make your character ignorant, and you solve your plot holes.
Now if I wrote Elias as an archery novice, and also suddenly an expert marksman, then yeah I’d still have a plot hole. But if he doesn’t hold the bow correctly and doesn’t name all the parts of his equipment correctly, or doesn’t properly take care of it… why would he know better?
These are kind of like unreliable narrators, only instead of telling the story with suspect accuracy, they are participating in the plot with suspect accuracy.
If you have to have a set piece with something you definitely aren’t an expert in and have researched all you can but it still doesn’t feel like enough, consider the following:
It does not need as much step-by-step detail as you think, especially if this isn’t a huge part of the narrative, especially if it’s niche. I have Elias learning how to shoot, but I don’t painstakingly describe his lessons, though I could. I tell you the ~vibes~ of how archery works, and I need not say more because none of this is the point of the scene—Elias learning a new thing and branching out is the point.
You can just say “Characters did this thing in the background and now we’re here when it has become important”. In sci-fi and fantasy, the more you give audiences to pick apart, the more they’re going to. You can describe how the artificial gravity on your spaceship works with your fantasy gadgets and fantasy physics, or you can just say “the ship has artificial gravity” and as this is sci-fi, readers will just accept it and move on.
But even in contemporary fiction. Say I’m writing about a high school yearbook class, of which I myself was our senior editor. I would ask myself: Is the book about the actual process of making a yearbook, or the characters who are making the book? I can spend pages upon pages describing the photography and editing and layout process of pages and spreads, or I can just have a character “editing a photo for color correction” while they’re having a more meaningful conversation.
If I wrote the former and this was a book that intimately dove into the yearbook process, then my readers would expect all those fine details. If I didn’t, then yearbook becomes the setting, not the story, and my readers expecting a high school drama might get bored by all the technical prose.
At the end of the day all those details are exposition, if the only purpose they serve is to exposit and not reflect back on the characters or story at large, then why are they here? I can make all the technical details interesting, so long as they matter to the character. If you don't know what you're talking about, then how can you know how they matter to the character?
There is a balance I think you have to strike. If you don't include *any* details about yearbook, then why is it set in a yearbook class?
—
But at the end of the day… if you’re not a photographer, and you decide to write your protagonist who’s passionate about photography, and the whole story is about the photography process so they can enter some competition, and you know absolutely nothing about the photography process…. Why are you setting yourself up for failure?
Instead, consider writing your photography-loving hero’s story about why they love photography (which you should do anyway). Take the focus off the mechanics and instead write about something many more people can understand, which is the emotional connection one has to their favorite hobby.
You might not know all the parts of a professional camera, but you do know what it’s like to spend hours at a time trying to make something perfect and the catharsis you feel when it works out, or the disappointment when it doesn’t.
That story I read above wasn’t laser-focused on vlogging, but the character had brought in all their expensive equipment to a dirty environment to film something and put their equipment in filthy places not the least bit concerned about any of it getting damaged or broken. The writer failed at the technical side, but more importantly, they failed at the emotional side. Halfway through the book and I had no idea how this character felt about their hobby.
Camera equipment is expensive. That shit is painstakingly maintained and cared for. You don’t just throw it around and accept that grease splatters will get in the way, you do the job trying your best to mitigate the potential damage and you worry the whole way that your camera baby took a beating.
Point being, even if the writer had missed the mark on the correct vocabulary, that wasn’t nearly as damning as failing to understand the big picture of why people do this hobby and the complications that come with it. They didn’t do their research.
—
If any of this resonates with you, consider checking out my book Eternal Night of the Northern Sky, out for preorder now, paperback on 8/25/24.
#writing#writing advice#writing a book#writing resources#writeblr#writing tips#writing tools#world building#character development#exposition
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god. uh. myhouse.wad, huh? I have, frankly, way too many thoughts about this entire mod. Please bear with me as I try to ramble my way through them, I ended up going off under the read more.
I’m going to be honest, this game felt like an extended, emotional fetch quest for me until this point. Don’t get me wrong, I knew that all the items had emotional and memorial impact, but...this one got to me. This moment hit me like a fucking truck.
For those of you who don’t play Dungeon and Dragons, sessions get long. On average they can run anywhere between 4-6 hours, but I myself have played longer, with the longest taking the cake at almost a half day, or roughly 11 hours. A lot can happen in a session, and most of it is just...joking around. The phrase “roll for intercourse” is a reference to an age-old running gag of players trying to seduce an NPC for whatever reason. It’s funny. It happens so often it’s a meme.
But finding it here...it really hit me. This isn’t just a reference to a well-known meme. Tom and Steve sat down and played D&D together, spending multiple hours in a day to play sessions, likely with other players but always with each other. And this phrase? It stuck out, it’s a moment that stuck with Steve for one reason or another, and my only guess is to say it’s because it‘d become an inside joke. And...you can’t help but wonder what it was. If Steve had been DMing, or if he’d been the one trying to seduce the NPC much to Tom’s chagrin, or...what.
And that at the core is the devastating part of myhouse.wad. The more I sit and think about it, the more I think about it, the more I realize this map is chock full of inside jokes, and we as players will never understand them. Because it’s not meant for us. These are things we’ll never have context for because one of the people involved is gone now. And the more I think about it, the more the realization hit that this entire map is not a game and really, truly is a memorial.
Do you remember when we played with Legos together? Do you remember when we played video games? Drinking milkshakes in the basement, sharing a pop? Our inside jokes? Roll for intercourse. Pumpkin Rick. Shrek chasing after you. Do you remember when we got married? I do. The house does. The house loves you. I love you. I miss you.
This map reads like a conversation, someone reaching out to someone else. You can’t help but wonder who is reaching out to who, though.
You know, I was talking to some friends on Discord about this map, and one of them brought up something interesting that I agree with. myhouse.wad draws clear inspiration from House of Leaves, but there’s a distinct difference between them. They both have heavy themes of grief and closure, but where House of Leaves is mysterious because of the layers and layers of unreliable narrators, myhouse.wad is mysterious because of you’re only ever hearing one side of the conversation. House of Leaves makes me feel like I’m intruding on something that no human should ever know. myhouse.wad makes me feel like I’m hearing part of a conversation through a wall.
Either way, there is one thing that both works share: This is not for you. It never was.
You know, I kind of wonder what their D&D campaign was about, if this moment was enough to stick out as an inside joke. I wonder what their sessions were like. I hope they had fun.
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The Sandman Overture and Exiles: Omnia Mutantur, Nihil Interit
Everything Changes, Nothing Is Truly Lost—Not Even Hope
There once was a little girl (well, not a human girl) known by the name Hope Beautiful Lost Nebula, egg-daughter of Clearly who died in childbirth, sperm-daughter of Troubling World who was murdered by reavers. She is one of the most meaningful characters of the whole Sandman, so why does fandom hardly talk about her, not even those who have read the comics?
Understanding Hope, her story and her connection to Dream, is more or less understanding the entirety of The Sandman, and that's why I want to write about Hope and hope.
This contains major spoilers for Overture, Exiles and the ending of the Sandman, so if you’d rather not, this is your exit sign…
Pictures often speak louder than words, so I would like to start with these [I will add Alt text gradually, it’s a lot]…
If you haven't read Overture, you would not know that the words Dream speaks in Hell when he wins the Oldest Game are a direct mirror of Hope's words, down to repeating "I am...". It is not a sudden epiphany about how to win—it is a memory.
How much Morpheus truly remembers about the universe before the reset in Overture—it is something we cannot know for certain, and we have discussed it on here many, many times. I personally lean towards his remembering a lot more than we might think, and I've written about it in other metas before, e.g. here (super long with many tangents) or here. The narration is unreliable on this, because Desire in cat-form says in Overture that “there won’t be anything to remember”, but also that Dream will be “the only one to remember”. But whether he remembers every detail, or whether it is exactly the way Glory states in the above panel and it’s just that Hope's name is there for him when he needs it most, is secondary. What matters is that he does remember (side-note: It also matters because Dream promised her himself. And he never goes back on a promise, for better, for worse).
The above conversation with Glory is often taken as proof that there is no hope in the new universe, and by extension, the whole of the Sandman turns into a story with a hopeless ending. But in my opinion, that isn’t true. Yes, as a mortal being, Hope does not exist in the universe we are now in. But two very specific panels in Overture are directly contradicted by what happens in the later arcs of The Sandman:
The Star says here, after Hope's above statement that she is not nothing, that she is Hope, "As if saying that might ever change something." [And the Star’s tone is equally mocking than that of Lucifer Morningstar when they say, “What are you then, Dream Lord?”, but that just as an aside.]
And since Hope is killed in the very next panel (because Time pulled Dream out of that situation, so he wasn't able to protect her anymore. Who needs parents, right?), we might be inclined to believe this.
But by now, we all know that the Star is WRONG. These are not "three words that mean nothing." Once again:
And also this (I couldn’t find a gif with the bit where she says, “I will never give up hope,” but we all know she does say these words):
What else makes Dream/s prevail in Hell, what else are the dreams Morpheus speaks about here than hopes?
The Star is directly proven wrong. And so are we if we assume that Hope’s spirit doesn’t exist anymore. Because hope as a concept, hope as the thing that Morpheus remembers when he fights Lucifer/Choronzon in Hell, still exists. Even though this was said in the old universe before the reset, it DOES mean something. It DOES change something. Because Morpheus remembers.
Remembering Hope means to have hope.
And if we believe there isn’t any H/hope, we are also directly proven wrong by Time, who tells us that there will always be a universe in which Hope (the being) exists, and that there will always be one in which she doesn’t. And they, in a way, exist simultaneously. So even in a universe without Hope, her spirit, her memory, prevails. That is not a universe entirely without hope.
And that is also our tie-in to Exiles, because Morpheus and Daniel also exist simultaneously. Omnia mutantur, nihil interit—everything changes, nothing is truly lost.
Morpheus has moved on, but he still exists—in story, in memory of those who cared about him, in Daniel!Dream, in the “Soft Places” at the fray where reality and dreams meet. And it is exactly what H/hope is in the Sandman universe—it keeps on existing: In stories, in memories, in the “soft places”. Because to hope means to love, and to love means to hope.
Sometimes, you need to find hope…
Sometimes, she needs a bit of coaxing. Sometimes, hope means not to forget, so you keep going and remember what truly matters…
Sometimes, we lose her, and even Hope loses memory of who she was, but we can be reminded…
Hope might transform, but she never truly disappears in The Sandman.
On that note: I totally understand the attachment to Morpheus as a character. He is my favourite character, too. I cried buckets when I first knew what was going to happen (decades ago I dare say, and not at the end of The Kindly Ones, but during World’s End). And I think it is totally legitimate to want him to survive. Part of me does, too. It is a bit baffling to assume that people who read the story with acceptance and find meaning in it don’t care enough about Morpheus as a character to want him to survive, and that they are even a bit stupid for thinking The Sandman’s underlying message is one of hope. I don’t know many people who aren’t heartbroken in one way or another. But the story had to end the way it ended because it is not just about Morpheus and humanising him.
I often feel that by clinging to his character and person alone, we are losing sight of the deeper meaning, and we are closing our eyes to all the messages that are there, in plain sight, if we just let them speak to us:
The Sandman is not simply a story about Morpheus. He is the protagonist (even that could be argued), but he is also a vessel for the meaning and power of change, for letting go instead of clinging to what doesn’t serve us (and isn’t it ironic that by desperately wanting him to live and getting upset about the fact he doesn’t, we are doing exactly that instead of leaning into catharsis that actually has the potential to bring on change in us?).
Dream does not die because Dream cannot die. He changes. What dies is a point of view (symbolised by Morpheus). That’s it. That is the message. Omnia mutantur, nihil interit.
Hope is not gone. Not in this universe or in any other. Her spirit prevails. Because when she calls you out, when she touches you, you remember what matters:
“I’m not,” he says after thinking for a hot second, and proceeds to do exactly that regardless.
She touches him, she holds his hand, and calls him out.
She touches him, she holds his hand, and he is honest with himself, for once.
Hope touched Dream, but did she touch Desire in the same way? I already wrote about it here, and I think in certain ways, she did:
Hope prevails…
Hope is what saved the universe in the first place.
Hope is what Morpheus remembers when it matters.
Hope is what Nada finds again in A Hope in Hell after she gave up hope in Tales in the Sand.
Hope is what drives Unity and ultimately lets Rose survive.
Hope springs eternal in people like Rosemary who are willing to help and overcome their own fears. And in the TV series, that hope gets rewarded, and that’s important (I am glad they made that change).
Hope is even what drives Morpheus, but to see that, we need to take our eyes off only focusing on his having hope for himself, his having hope for his point of view (that does not serve him or anyone else, and he knows). If that’s the hope we’re looking for, we won’t find it. No, that’s not entirely true either. Because again, Dream can’t die. But the true reason is:
Morpheus is bigger than that. The story is bigger than that.
He has hope for humanity and sentient beings that are under his purview—what else are dreams but hopes? And Morpheus as the “point of view” understands that said point of view needs to make space for a better, kinder, more human (for lack of better term—human=/=man but human=with humanity) Dream to exist. And said Dream comes into existence with Daniel, but he also still contains all that was Morpheus. See it as having learned from experience and moving on with a new point of view instead of letting our hurt define us and holding on to it indefinitely. It is something we recommend in real life all the time—why can’t we find it in this story? Because it is right there, again, in plain sight: Omnia mutantur, nihil interit.
I am not saying this is how you have to see it. But I am saying that engaging with the story on this level makes it easier to come to terms with an ending that is commonly interpreted as hopeless because we can't see the forest for the trees.
Hope is hope. And she saved the universe and us. Not just once, but many times over. The new universe isn’t the hopeless, sad universe. The old one was. The new one has hope because it keeps existing. With Hope’s spirit and a Dream who has changed…
#the sandman#sandman#dream of the endless#morpheus#sandman meta#hope beautiful lost nebula#Hope sandman#sandman overture#exiles#daniel hall#daniel!dream#desire of the endless#sandman bookclub#sandman spoilers#the sandman comics#the sandman netflix#nada sandman#rosemary sandman#unity kinkaid#rose walker#long post#Omnia mutantur nihil interit#queue
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i'm wondering if your miscommunication in this fic is based upon a theory for byler's miscommunication in the show itself? i.e. mike understood will in the van and was therefore gutted when will told him 'youre the heart' in the pizzeria etc (seemingly telling mike to say i love you to el).
i'm trying to piece together things but i've forgotten if will has ever mentioned why their relationship went tits up before. they both are not on the same page at all regarding what happened in the past, but as of this chap... mike now knows how he feels AND will! its really interesting that the hesitance is based around them both thinking that they put themselves out there once and got shot down (or so i gather so far). which means something had to have happened in the past where a third party was involved and made things unclear? because their actions currently strongly suggest mutual attraction like mike said in 10.2
so im wondering if you were inspired by the show in this way, if indeed you DO believe that mike understood will's confession of feelings fully in the van? :)
i would say that it’s not necessarily inspired by that particular interpretation of the van scene, but the miscommunication trope in general is absolutely inspired by the show! mike and will are canonically incredibly passionate characters — that passion often leads to emotional outbursts, and they’re passionate about each other and their friendship, hence why they fight a lot lol. because they have trouble pausing and giving each other the space they need to communicate. when they do manage that, they’re besties for the resties 🤎 which is what we are trying to capture in acswy!
though i will say that acswy is the result of what would happen if they didn’t give each other the time to explain themselves and talk their feelings through 😗 plus obviously with it being a modern au, they’re in different circumstances than they are in the show, so their experiences have shaped them differently. i understand the ooc allegations about acswy, but i’m not really bothered by them because i do think we have done a good job of staying true to how mike and will would react if they grew up Now and had the influences they had. for example, will is for sure sassy on the show — he’s kind to his core, and never genuinely mean on purpose, but the sass is There. i think if he grew up with max as his closest friend versus mike, lucas, and dustin, she’d bring that side out of him more than it is present in the show. max is kind and never genuinely mean either, but she hides it as a defense mechanism, and will would probably be influenced the same way. it’s the same concept where, given the circumstances mike and will are in leading up to and during acswy, the miscommunication of it all has been exacerbated by those elements. and miscommunication is Theeee byler bread and butter.
neither will or mike have mentioned why their relationship is the way that it is — that will be revealed at some point in these final few chapters, but i won’t say when for spoiler reasons of course 😇 i will reiterate what we have been saying since ch01 though: mike and will are Both unreliable narrators. neither of them have all of the info and are just going off of what they perceive to be true. that doesn’t make either one of them right or wrong — they can Both be right based on their interpretations of their situation — but it does mean they lack perspective that is necessary for them to move forward. tee and also hee.
all of that rambling done, i personally do not think that mike understood will’s confession in the van, but support anyone who does interpret it that way!! i’d have to ask suni what her thoughts are on it so we might edit later with her thoughts!!
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Was afraid of sending this ask until I recalled the wise words of Junko Kaname
“If you find yourself at a dead end and there’s no other options left, doing something the wrong way might do the most good.”
Plus I'm anonymous. I've got nothing to fear
Platonic Omegaverse AU based on "Back and There Again" by wolfsrainrules and your fic "Words Unspoken" on ao3 —WAIT WAIT WAIT!!!
toss in "Three Robins walk into a tower" by Law_10 plus the fic where Tim gets Surgeoned wings
Also there's some unreliable narration later in this ask which evolved into a fic lol
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Setup; Tim gaslights and lies to himself about Batman's abusive treatment towards him until he's forced by Jack to stop being Robin
When Stephanie comes along, he helps by giving her notes and recordings from his time as Robin, making up for where Batman lacks in training her himself
This leads to Stephanie learning and calling out just how bad his tenure as Robin was, being more distant with the Batfamily + professional-ish w/ Bruce
They try to spend as little time possible with the Bats for their own sakes from them on because the other would worry for them
While Tim doesn't have as much time as Barbara, he does presume an Oracle-like role for Stephanie to help her out
Stephanie also becomes quick friends with the Teen Titans. She's got Tim's seal of approval
Janet Drake dies. Tim is grieving and now he's stuck with Jack so he copes Batman style on the computer—
ooh nooooo. deadpanning??? that's just how I grieve, officer. I can't believe someone would kill my daaaad! who could have done such a thing? Oh you already have him detained and you're even imprisoning him in a whole 'nother state that isn't a revolving door! Thank you officer! You're my hero
Tim set things up so Cluemaster and Jack were unknowingly in the same area and Cluemaster accidentally killed Jack
But nobody is gonna figure that out. It's not like he did the deed!
And who else could advocate for the villain being jailed for life after killing a millionaire away from the New Jersey State itself than the new star of a CEO for Drake Industries, Edward Drake? The fact he works remotely from home and is insanely reclusive is totally irrelevant!
In unrelated news? Tim and Steph have become best friends who flip flip between who they have sleepovers with
Whoop! Suddenly there's two Robins running around often at the same time and they are manaces! Menaces to society I tell you!
Together they train to become the best Robin duo there ever was!
Oh no, I made this a "it gets better before it gets worse before it gets better fic" FUCK ME
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Titans Tower isn't crack like Three Robins. In fact all the Robins are screaming and crying at each other
"You stole my name!"
"You stole it from Richard first, how about you apologize for taking away the very name his own parents gave him!"
"It's not just about Robin but my place in the family dammit!"
"Why would you not come back already! The family misses you! We aren't even daughter and son! We're just unpaid interns at best! We could never take your place. they think you're dead but the spot is open for you if you ever come back! We never replaced you! We're here until you return!"
"Batman's a crazy kid beater Tim!" Steph's right but even with a support system, abuse does a number on ya
Alas, Jason is not seeing reason and while he gets bruised up and does it back, the two Robins at least didn't get beat as much as Jason wanted. Small mercies
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
When Jason finally comes back into the fray, it's smoother than he expected. Weirdly enough, he hardly saw his Replacements in the Manor, but given he wants as little to do with them as possible? Small mercies
When Damian comes into the fray and tries to prove himself in the form of attacking both Robins? Proof that there's lots of cult deprogramming to do; but for Jason?
It's nice having demon brat around again. Dami understands what growing up in the League was like and the Replacements spend even less time around him when in the Manor. Any instances where they would usually be asked to interact face to face are done through voicemails or emails instead
Man, Tim must really be living up to Eddie Drake's image if he only sees him and Stephanie as Robins on the field now
Meh, for all he knows they're prancing around with the other bats
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
It's his 16th Birthday
Stephanie is first and only to know
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Whenever Red Robin laments getting Spoiler's image tarnished in the super scene for good when it just could have just been his alone, she hounds him for it
As she does when he looks back to his time of cloning, thinking about their mutual lack of spleens instead of the dead
it's progress
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
The Core Five of Young Justice sit together in silence. Typing together contingencies for when Batman enacts the third test and beyond
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
"Demon brat," says Todd, ruffling Damian's hair
"Dami," says Grayson, trapping him in arms
"Son," says Father, says Pennyworth
The Replacements Father owes life debts to say "Robin," and nothing else until the public is upon them. Then they say "Wayne"
"Damian" when it is professional and polite West etiquette
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
It wouldn't be the first time a villain---Dynamics Master---came from another dimension
The second time they were fixated on biology
Or the third time their targets were Bats
Least of all a new permanent divide between Batman and his proteges came
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Jason hasn't let go since they got out
Neither the pups Replacements with each other
"Unhand me Todd!" Damian. His puppy fussed.
'Responsibility' Jason corrected himself. He kept him close to his chest
Didn't matter what Dami had to say. His scent betrayed him; distressed-puppy-scared-omega-help-please
Emoting through smell. Wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if it was just him and Damian
Jason didn't even realize when he started purring and rubbing his wrist against Damian's hair. Probably another "Dynamic" thing the villain raved about
Something about not wanting to be stuck in a world full of people unlike theirs, since this was the norm in their own
Damian yipped—his hearted melted, good god these Dynamics can't pick if their truth serums for thought or straight up liars themselves—as he buried his nose in the kid's hair, inhaling the smell of puppy-pack-omega-here-safe-and—
His nose scrunched with distress refusing to part from Damian
That wasn't right, it wasn't parting from him either
In fact it's been a chore to not gaze at the PUPS! Replacements the other side of the room
Replacements who would have long since left the room without a goodbye since all their checkups and duties were done for the day
Replacements who's gazes flicked between them and each other
And wore bandages over their wrists and necks
'Scent-blockers' he recalls the villain saying
Jason bared his teeth at them for a warning to— to— he had a pact to protect
Red Robin and Spoiler jumped to their feet and ran out the room, forgoing closing the doors, not once letting the other's hand go
. . .
For some reason, he and Damian's scents felt worse than ever before
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Brown and Drake don't say his name anymore
that is if he ever sees them at all outside of Robin
They don't appear in high society either. Father said they made a scene about faking responsibilities, injuries, and sickness to get out of dealing with elites forever
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
"That villain really did a number on you, didn't he Dami?"
"I remain unshaken!" Damian announced, wrapping fresh scent-blockers around his wrists
When the Manor's doors opened to reveal Jason—wearing blockers himself—Damian was already running towards him, not locking back at Dick until he spoke again
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Another alien invasion—one needing all hands on deck—done with. All that was left
And barking a warning at the Replacements to not get up in his personal space
"Man, not even their teammates want them," he swore he caught a rookie hero say off-handedly, "and they're still allowed in Young Justice?"
But practically everyone was here catching their bearings, so in case he misheard it
"Hey, hey! I heard you talking about Spoiler and Red, right?"
The rookie turned to him, "You mean the nutcases?"
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
'Ever-constant despair' Cassandra had to say about the pups Replacements when Jason's hand started hovering over his phone
Alfred had commented on a trend from before the villain where they barely appreciated their meals without the other with them, otherwise they deigned for quick, efficient meals
afterwards it became impossible to get them to eat anything at all without the other with them
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
For the first time, Jason felt unfulfilled from Dick's octopus hugs. He was slowly and painfully spenting less time cuddling Damian now and he still didn't feel as hollow.
He grumbled in a way that came with being an 'Omega' and Dick didn't vocalize back. He didn't smell anything but chemicals from Richard— everyone actually
Jason felt hollow
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Once when Jason met up with Damian after the kid changed his blockers
He whiffed Misery
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
It was during a drug bust that things really went downhill. That Jason realized he couldn't do this anymore
It was the usual. Drop in. Stop the operation. Pack things up; just with the added downside of his stronger sense of smell making drugs stink like never before—even through his helmet
Spoiler—who came in on a short notice—seemed to have the same problems, coughing like there was no tomorrow.
He could almost swear to hearing keens of all things in between her fit as she shook violently in a way he hardly saw her do
Unmasking wouldn't be an option until the Cave, so she seemed to settle for placing a hand on the bandages on her throat
He placed a hand, on a crate for support. The drugs smelled awful, sure, but to render him dizzy? It was strong, but not that much
It was then that she noticed the blood on her hand which came from blood splattered on the bandages earlier
"Shit— do you mind if I swap out my blockers quick Red Hood?" She wiped down her glove for as much blood she could
"I'm not your boss Replacement."
She scrambled to grasp for her pockets and used her now less-bloodied glove to unwrap the bloodied bandages
'Great' he wanted to spit out 'I can smell you through my helmet and your costumes.'
Instead he got hammered with the puppy-alpha scent of pup-in-danger-not-safe-omega-hates-me-help-save-me
Jason wasn't even sure he could keep himself still, but he did it. It didn't matter if his brain was rewired or scent glands got grafted onto him, he was the master of his own body—!
He can't do this anymore, he can't—
nobody one else for sure
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Jason was going insane
He entered the cave to see Batman on the Batcomputer, but that wasn't what he was focused on, unwilling as it was
Stephanie might as well be clinging to Tim's shoulders for life, looking at the screen of the laptop he typed on
The two had forgone their blockers, forcing their scents to mix and mingle in the air, drowning the place in together-alone-pups-alpha-omega-miserable-together as he picked up bits of a discussion between about about 'dynamics' and a 'syringe' together
Tearing through his skull however was their frequent keens of miserable-pack-hates-us-we're-not-safe-here
Unseen by them was Damian, stiff if not for the movement of breathing and the gazes of oh god that was longing
Jason used all of his willpower to not tear off either of their blockers and he took Damian's hand
Try as he might, he couldn't resist keening in response to his pups. His response making the others stop barely made him feel better
Jason was going insane
He has to put an end to this
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
With even Barbara having to go offworld, Batman entrusted Tim with keeping charge of Gotham
After Batman left, he couldn't be faster in delegating some of the job to Jason, shakey as his limbs were
The back of Jason's brain tingles with deja vu seeing the sorry sight that is Timothy
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
A hospital in Gotham admitted a new patient
Days later, word hit the streets that Joker was good as dead, a vegetable for life, if only for the bare minimum brain activity and heartbeats keeping him going
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
'For once,' Jason thought as he stocked up his chosen safehouse to hunker down in, 'The Bat was right but too late in not entrusting me with unclipped wings'
He would do anything to make Gotham more peaceful than it's ever been for this string of months. Even pull every favor he had to get it done
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
"Pack everything you want to keep more than anything in your suitcase pup. nothing for keeping face, we're going to be alone"
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
"Steph! Red Hood betrayed us, it was a false alarm. Alert the on-world Bats and—!" Scent withdrawal was a nasty, nasty thing if a hug and an older omega's scent was all it took to knock the pup out
Omega-protector-here-you're-safe-now-pup wafted through the air yet unable to purge the misery-alone-unsafe clinging to them both
Jason would rectify that soon
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Stephanie had been on her wits end and her mind frayed alongside Tim's in ways everyone and thing else would envy
Today that thread of sanity snapped. She had no pack—she can't trust anyone—Tim needs her!
The Drake Manor acquired a broken window, which the super-computer stored in it's secret bunker promptly noted for repair. no girl or boy would see it for a time
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Deep in the Batcave, Cassandra gazed at the syringe full of fluid
A syringe which would be innocuous if not for it being locked in a suitcase that needed a mix of Tim and Steph's Dynamic vocals and pheromones to activate
Something achieved only after intense trial and error, prediction of randomly timed password lockouts, and guesswork on what clips of the two making sufficient audio were Dynamic vocals, and which of their items retained enough pheromones to trick the technology it was fresh from their wrists
Included with the syringe were documents of its nature
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Danger!-unsafe-unwanted-pack-where-are-you-please-don't-kill-me flooded the room after Tim caught sight of Damian and Jason
The omega chuffed, pack-omega-here-pup-you're-pack
An omega-puppy's keen, i-don't-get-it-confused-you-hate-me
A puppy's yip, omega-is-safe-protector-pack-scared-unsafe?
"You're safe pup," Jason crooned, combing his fingers through the teen's hair, "You belong to my pack and so will Stephanie, nobody, not even we'll hurt you."
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
All the desperation in the world couldn't get Stephanie to escape a Red Hood who'd spent the last months studying their battle tactics endlessly
And even more months packless meant a new pup in the roster led to him purging the air of anything but his scent of precious-pups-you're-my-pack-i-love-you
Tucking his new pup in the nest, he did a round of checking on the safehouse's security, then his nest, making sure the pack was sleeping comfortably. He scented them again for good measure
Exhaustion wore on his bones. Wrapping his arms around Stephanie as Tim did Damian
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Something was coming, Jason shot up, longlearned in trusting his gut, and as the only grown pack member? It fell onto him to protect them all
He froze at the approaching scent of a beta-pup, another pup, but how?
He heard the mechanisms of the front door unlocking and locking again, and waited for what was coming
The scent drew his gaze to Cassandra's eyes, Cassandra who was waffing lonely-packless-beta-pup-i-want-my-pack-confused
No matter, Jason made room in the nest for a fourth pup, and chuffed for her to come in
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Jason has maybe a year left of three of his pups being pups according to their Dynamics until they're full-fledged adults
All those months before they stewed in misery because he let their pride and societal expectations trump it all
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
"The syringe" is all Cassandra has to say about her sudden dynamic
As Tim confesses, those three Young Justice members had wanted to do something about Stephanie and him withering away
The solution? Reverse engineer their own biology to craft a more autonomous means of gaining a dynamic
Jason huffs that he and Dami weren't their first pick
That being said, he isn't saying no to three more pups
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Word rapidly spreads that the Batman's baby birds were spirited away by Red Hood
Even quicker is their meta status of the same vein
Asking strangers "Would you rather get caught doing child-involved crimes by Red Hood, or laying a scratch on his pups?" becomes a viral sensation much like Man vs. Bear
Rogues throw their hands up once Wonder Girl, Superboy, and Impulse join the fray of Red Hood's adoptees
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
When the Bats return back to Earth, they find those who stayed have not only cut contact with the rest of the world outside of Gotham and Young Justice, but have dragged Young Justice to join in on pushing their new isolationist policities to their absolute limits
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
When Batman discovers photos of the Joker's mauled and unrecognizable body have gone viral on Twitter, he's dissapointed at his own surprise as how easy finding the details were
All he had to worry was verification, which was simple enough
When the hospital's data shows that it was done with claws and teeth, unrecognizable pheromones matching just one boy he knows
Jason grins at him, omega canines on display
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
Is it Batman's business if his pups hand over a syringe and their favorite hoodies to a precious little light down two parents to Joker Gas?
Jason thinks not
. • ° · ☽ 【×】 ☾ · ° • .
I accidentally made a fic
How did this happen? Oh well then
Extra Notes
This was just meant to be a Jason & Damian & Damian thing but then Stephanie and Young Justice and Cass snuck into the nest
And this transforming into a fanfic that was semi-jason-centric wasn't on my bingo but lol
Also rip if you dunno wtf the omegaverse is lmao
Even if Joker is out of the game, Jason couldn't prevent his inventions from getting out there and being reverse engineered and being distributed, hence how Duke's parents still took the L
Now a little Jason think piece
In Canon, he's arguably just as guilty as Bruce for Joker's crimes and victims after he doesn't kill him then and there
Arguably because he cares more about Bruce than the victims and collateral of Joker's deeds
Jason in a position where more than ever, he sees family and community as his world, to the point it's need to live on a psychological level? Threats cannot be allowed to exist
Or at least be able to do anything meaningful for as long as they still live
Joker is at the top of that list. And if Jason can come back from the dead? So could he. What to do?
You only need a beating heart & brain activity to live, and Batman won't let him his long time nemesis die, even as a mercy
I'd present more questions and ideas that didn't get into the final product and do another round of editting but my computers gonna die now lol
Go crazy, go stupid about my ask everybody
Alright! I do in fact know what the omegaverse is. I don't particularly like it for a variety of reasons, but some of the concepts are cool. If I wanted to have similar enough dynamics, I typically read shifter AUs. They have the pack bonding, the scent shit, the different instincts, etc. without the stuff I don't particularly like (depending on how it's written, ofc).
The stuff I loved about this fic/AU:
Fixed Tim and Steph's dynamic in a way I didn't know I needed. Fuck yes to them supporting each other through their Robin years instead of being pitted against each other.
Steph and YJ bonding
Steph and Tim continuing to support each other even through the BruceQuest
Steph and Tim bonding over how fucked up Bruce was to them during their Robin years
The hc/au that Tim becomes an Oracle-like support to Steph's Robin
The hc (kind of canon-ish) that Jason and Damian met in the League
Jason adopting everyone including Cass and YJ and Duke
I am curious about Dick and where he is in all of this. Also, it wasn't quite clear to me who was affected by the omegaverse stuff. Everyone who was adopted by Jason was, but is there anyone else besides that villain?
Two notes you made at the end that were impactful:
Jason is complicit in Joker's murders after he doesn't kill the Joker
I think that is dependent on Jason's characterization. If, how it's often portrayed in canon/media, he cares more about Bruce's actions/reactions than justice, then this is true. On the other hand, Jason may be unable to kill the Joker due to a vicious concoction of trauma, fear, Bruce, and circumstances. It would be understandable (and a great angst/conflict point) if Joker is the only person Jason is unable to kill. He wants to, by everything he is does he want to, but he can't. If anyone wants me to expand, send an ask.
"Batman won't let his long time nemesis die, even as a mercy"
This is the type of Dark Bruce I want to see. My gods, I would kill to see a fic where Bruce views murder as a mercy, too permanent, and too forgiving. This Bruce wants to force villains, rogues, heroes, civilians, etc. to work for their redemption. If they die, how are they going to make amends? What good is atonement if the only one to witness it is God and the dead? What good is forgiveness given by those unaffected?
I'm not saying this is an okay or decent mindset (hence why it's Dark Bruce). I'm just saying it would be cool to explore a Bruce who refuses to kill for entirely different reasons. Instead of it being too far, him being worried about never stopping, or him not agreeing morally, I would fuck with a fic where he doesn't kill so he can make people pay for as long as he wants.
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The questions of Laurent’s being and behavior…
I have been informed, via @thickenmyblood’s asks (since mine were apparently not set to accept anonymous asks – which I have now changed) that my opinion about HIUH Laurent’s character is incorrect. I have been informed that he’s abusive.
My PhD isn’t in English (though it is in the humanities), but my wife was an English major and she has often told me that interpretations aren’t right or wrong, but they are stronger or weaker in the sense that they are supported by the text.
So, let’s go…
First things first. Let me be clear about the following:
The question of whether or not Laurent is abusive in this piece of fanfiction has no bearing whatsoever on whether any person you know in real life is abusive.
Similarly, any arguments that Laurent can change or that Laurent deserves a second chance have no bearing whatsoever on whether any person you know in real life can change or deserves a second chance.
Neither HIUH nor any fic should be taken as a life advice manual. Just because there are therapists in this fic does not mean that @thickenmyblood is a mental health professional or your therapist.
I am also not a therapist, nor am I trying to give you life advice when I speak of my enjoyment of HIUH.
But if I were to give you life advice, it would be this: If a piece of fanfiction makes you so angry that you feel the need to send abusive anonymous comments to the author and/or ask that author to pass on your comment “correcting” the opinion of a reader writing about that story, you should probably stop reading that fic. It is clearly not good for you. Metaphorically speaking, you are in an abusive relationship with that fic and you should end it. Write the story off and move on.
Okay, that said, the question of whether Laurent is abusive in HIUH is probably more of a series of questions:
Has HIUH Laurent engaged in abusive behaviors?
If so, do those abusive behaviors necessarily indicate that he is and will always be an abuser?
If not, what evidence do we have that HIUH Laurent can and will stop engaging in abusive behaviors?
If HIUH Laurent stops engaging in abusive behaviors, what reasons, if any, does HIUH Damen have to return to the relationship despite past abuse?
BONUS:
A. Is an HIUH Laurent who harms Damen through abusive behavior mischaracterized relative to the canon source material?
B. Is an HIUH Damen who chooses to be with Laurent despite past abuse mischaracterized relative to the canon source material?
1. Has Laurent engaged in abusive behaviors?
Yes. Although we are limited by a potentially unreliable narrator (Damen), who does not believe Laurent is abusive, we are clearly and intentionally both told and shown in the text that Laurent has engaged in abusive behavior. We are told when Neo explains as much to a skeptical Damen:
“Then you must know I’m only trying to get a feeling on how educated you are on the subject of abuse between romantic partners.” “But why ? I just told you Laurent and I never—” “Do you know what emotional abuse looks like, Damen?” “Yes.” “Give me a definition.” It’s hot in the room, all of the sudden. “It’s… making someone. Feel bad.” “It’s consistent and repeated humiliation,” Neo says. “Gaslighting. Manipulation. Verbal abuse can sometimes overlap with this. Have you ever experienced this while in your relationship with Laurent?” “We weren’t abusive.” “Did you insult each other?” “No,” Damen says. It was so long ago, it was a lifetime back. He can’t remember. “It’s—not like that. Humiliation? We never—” “You’ve said that sometimes Laurent made you feel as though the things you were feeling were inadequate.” You’re being a fucking idiot, Laurent had said about the pink sweatshirt. “What if he was right?” “It’s never right to invalidate your partner’s feelings.” “We weren’t abusive.” “Damen,” Neo says, the soft caress before a blow. “What if we think about it from—” “There’s nothing to think about. I’m telling you, it wasn’t like that. How the fuck did you get to that conclusion? Because I complained about us arguing?” Neo ruffles his notes. “Contempt. Shame. Hurt. That’s what abusers thrive on. There’s quite a lot of those things in here.” “Laurent’s not an abuser,” Damen snaps. “Maybe not, but he grew up with one, didn’t he? These are learned traits.” Damen folds forward as though to vomit. That’s—He’s made a mistake. They argued, they yelled, they said things they didn’t mean, but they never hit each other or threw cutlery at each other’s heads. They went to bed angry, and Damen slept on the couch, and there would be rolling eyes and huffs and annoyance in the following days, but that’s not—Laurent is not— You’re sweet, Damen had said, hand to Laurent’s cheek. A sweetheart. He remembers meaning it, remembers Laurent not liking it. He also remembers Laurent’s sweetness, scarcer in the end and cloying in the beginning. Breakfast in bed, letting Damen pick what show to watch, giving up half his trail mix bag because he knew Damen liked the dried fruit pieces most. You’ll do great, you always do great. A protein shake prepped and ready to go, peace and quiet the nights before important court days. But also bigger things, biggest things. There was—and sharing a bed, and curling up under Damen to read, and letting Damen carry Nicaise up the stairs, and holding his hand under the table as firm functions, and kissing just to kiss, just because, just— He’s explained Laurent wrong.
And we are shown in the moments when Damen and Laurent talk and Damen expects a belittling response from Laurent:
“There are,” Laurent starts, stops. Starts again, “I didn’t.” He has both elbows on the table, which he used to despise. Tables are for cutlery and food, not limbs. Something about the way he rubs at the skin under his eyes makes Damen’s stomach cower as if expecting a blow. “Agnes recommended it months before you—came back. It wasn’t my idea.”
“I met him?” For once, Laurent doesn’t mock him for his question. “It was at that school play I couldn’t go to. The one Nicaise got that huge part in.”
“I want to know when the twenty-four hours are up,” Damen says, loudly, too loudly, “so we can go to the police station and report him missing. For fuck’s sake, Laurent, will you stop ? He could be seriously hurt, and you’re sitting here, berating me about the way I phrased a question. Do you even give a shit about him? Do you even—” He cuts himself off when he sees Laurent’s expression. Like he did last time with Nicaise, Damen braces himself for what’s to come, goes over the list of things Laurent can hurl at him, tries to minimize the inevitable damage. The comment will be about Nikandros, about his soft childhood in Ios, about the time he tried to discipline Nicaise by himself and ended up covered in vomit. Nothing happens. There’s only Laurent, turning his face to the side so Damen can’t stare at it any longer. In the silence of the car, Laurent’s breathing shakes.
“Is his name really Dog?” Laurent says, sitting down next to Damen. Between them, the two cups of coffee and the small pile of croissants both steam. “I didn’t believe Nicaise when he told me.” “I,” Damen starts, lie ready on his tongue, and stops. It’s very meta. “I’m not good with names.” Laurent picks up his coffee instead of agreeing with Damen. Instead of mocking. The space between their bodies is comfortable enough—they’re not touching, not even their knees or thighs. They’re not looking at each other either, not with the entire park stretching green and busy in front of them.
2. If so, do those abusive behaviors necessarily indicate that he is and will always be an abuser?
I take this to be one of the major points of contention on the part of the angry readers. As you can probably guess, I don’t think the text suggests that Laurent in inherently abusive. Besides the stuff coming in my answer to question 3, we have several reasons to believe that Laurent’s abusive behavior is the product of particular circumstances rather than a generalized personality dysfunction.
We know, and Neo just reminded us above, that abusive behaviors are learned behaviors. We know Laurent was abused in multiple ways before he was able to leave his uncle’s house. We know that he is still very young and that it has not been that long since his uncle’s trial. We know he has not been comfortable talking to Damen about his abuse, which gives us reason to believe he still experiences a great deal of shame. That shame is hinted at here:
“He respects you,” Laurent says before Damen has made up his mind about the yelling. “He looks at you and sees a standard to meet. Normalcy. It’s hard to disappoint people you respect. Especially people like you.” “Like me.” “You do things your way. Everyone else does them wrong.” “That’s,” Damen starts. The absolute inaccuracy of the phrase leaves him hanging. “What the fuck?” Laurent ignores him. “He doesn’t respect me, and he also knows I have no room to judge. It’s different. We’re—it’s just different.”
We also know that Laurent is specifically and intentionally not abusive toward Nicaise. We have seen that he has been absorbing a ton of anger, vilification, derision, denigration from Nicaise almost entirely without complaint and without lashing out at Nicaise in return. In fact, after the breaking of the paperweight, when Laurent feels that he might not be able to avoid reacting in a way he will regret, he calls Damen to safely remove Nicaise from the situation. Having taken the lock off Nicaise’s door for reasons many parents would no doubt consider justified, he realizes it was a mistake:
Damen doesn’t look down at the twisted little bolts on the floor. “Actually, you should watch this part in case you ever want to dismantle it again.” “I won’t.” Damen rubs his sleeve over a weird spot on the knob. “You’re betting a lot on Nicaise’s hypothetical good behavior.” “It was dumb, taking the lock away as punishment. I…” Laurent’s thumb glides over the edge of the glass. It traces a full circle before stopping and going white, digging in. His jaw twitches like he’s munching on something. “Privacy shouldn’t be a reward.” “Wasn’t this about safety? He locked himself in, wouldn’t come out or reply when you called…” Laurent’s reply is slow to come. After a while, Damen stops expecting it to come at all. He goes back to testing the lock—twice, waiting for that click sound—opens the door, closes it, and rattles the knob a bit. Just to be sure. “My uncle made it about safety too,” Laurent says. “Locks on doors were for adults. Not children.” The lonely ice cube in his glass floats around aimlessly, not quite touching its confines. “The first to go were the bedroom locks. What if there’s a fire and you can’t get out? What if someone breaks in through the window and—well.” Laurent smiles, small and ugly. “That kind of thing. You know.”
He ensures that Nicaise sees a therapist, meets with that therapist regularly, and follows professional advice about putting Nicaise on medication.
Laurent also maintains a strong friendship with Ancel, whose judgment the text has taught us to trust, through Damen’s evolving relationship with him. Laurent is capable of non-abusive, non-superficial relationships.
3. If not, what evidence do we have that HIUH Laurent can and will stop engaging in abusive behaviors?
From the moment we see Laurent interact with Damen in the present of this story, he is trying to treat Damen better. Not because he thinks he can get back together with Damen, but because he realizes he needs to make a relationship with Damen possible for Nicaise. We have already seen above that most of the time when Damen expects Laurent’s ridicule in this story, he does not actually receive it. In very stressful conversations, when Laurent does lash out, he now tends to pull back or even to acknowledge and apologize:
Coffee. Damen takes two long sips, trying to rinse the bad taste out of his mouth. They’ve had arguments in public before, probably louder than this one. For some reason, the thought isn’t as comforting as Damen would have once found it. They broke up to be better than they were together, didn’t they? They should be better. Except this doesn’t feel better. Or different. Laurent says, “That was out of line.” Now, cooled off, Damen feels clammy. Wobbly. He knows Laurent is right, and yet the thought of sitting through a reprimand makes him want to melt away. “It was.” “I—apologize.” Damen looks up from his coffee to Laurent’s profile. He’s facing the wrong way, Damen thinks stupidly, because the window is to their left. “You apologize.” Half a question. “Go ahead,” Laurent says. “Rub it in.” Damen doesn’t want to. Nausea is curling around him, closing in. “I was out of line too, so.”
And we know now that Laurent has thought through some of his past behaviors toward Damen:
“I was angry at you,” Laurent says, “all the time. Sometimes it was justified, but when it wasn’t I just—I found ways to justify it. That wasn’t fair. Of me.” Damen’s palm is numb around the glass. “Why were you angry?” “Nicaise.” “Justified,” Damen says. “And the rest of it?” Laurent is facing him again. “Paschal says I have a tendency to expect the worst from everyone. Especially you. You’d make comments, and I’d think you were being cruel instead of…” “Instead of what? Ignorant?” Laurent doesn’t reply. “That makes no sense,” Damen says. “We never argued about me being fucking sadistic. We argued about you acting like some things were obvious and I was simply too much of an idiot to get them.” “I never thought you were an idiot.” “You said it often enough.” “I’m—sorry,” Laurent says. “It doesn’t change anything, but—even if you had been the biggest idiot in the world, you didn’t deserve…” A blinking spree follows. “I’m sorry.”
We know that Laurent is still in therapy, and we know that he has been talking about his relationship with Damen there because Paschal has suggested couples counseling for them. And Laurent has invited Damen to do that couples counseling, showing that he wants them to build a better foundation for their relationship going forward.
4. If HIUH Laurent stops engaging in abusive behaviors, what reasons, if any, does HIUH Damen have to return to the relationship despite past abuse?
Damen is deeply in love with Laurent. At the beginning of the story, he is in denial about this fact, but the uncontrollable flow of his thoughts still shows us how much he feels the loss of their relationship. Once he and Laurent are speaking again, seeing improvements in their communication, and experiencing moments of comfort and fun in their interactions – and once Laurent has broken up with Maxime – Damen admits to himself that he wants to be back together. Neo, as usual, prompts the self-recognition:
“I’m asking you to think about what life might look like in two years,” Neo says, “for you and Laurent. Time does not only pass for you, Damen.” A smile, crinkling the corners of Neo’s eyes. “That’d be ideal, wouldn’t it?” Two years. Damen sits with the question for a while, looking at it, prodding it. In two years, Nicaise will have gone away to college. Maybe Laurent will move, relocate, start over somewhere closer to Vask. He’ll post about his new life on Instagram, or details of it will make it to Damen as second-hand gossip. They could still be friends, over text or the phone or fucking letters, Damen thinks, yet there’s something bitter in the back of his throat, filling up his mouth like vomit. Maybe Laurent will date again. Probably. Most likely. And Damen— When he looks up from the armrest, Neo is looking straight back. Damen can’t say it. Earlier today, as he typed his last email of the day at the office, he kept drafting a plan for today’s session. He’d explain his argument with Laurent, then the party at Ancel’s, then the way he keeps looking at Laurent in all the wrong lights, in all the wrong ways, and still finds himself wanting to kiss him. Neo would make a disapproving face, maybe, but it would be easy to brush off; anyone that doesn’t know Laurent would find it hard to understand how easy it is to want to kiss him. Except that isn’t all Damen wants. What Damen wants isn’t a settling of the score, a cleaning of the slate. He doesn’t want to do it once for old times’ sake, or twice out of gluttony. He doesn’t want to make any long-distance phone calls, write any letters, see any pictures on Instagram of Laurent and someone that isn’t him. He doesn’t want things to stay like this, in this careful antiseptic stage. He doesn’t want them to be friends. “It’s not what I want,” Damen says, at last. Neo leans back into his chair. He rolls his wrist once. “You think it’s what I should want, right? Letting go and all.” “I wouldn’t say that,” Neo says. “Should and shouldn’t are very loaded words. It also doesn’t matter what I think you should or shouldn’t do, in general. What is it that you want, since we’ve already established what it is that you don’t?” Don’t make me say it out loud. “I want,” Damen starts, and stops. The words look so stupid, jumbled inside his head. I want him back, like Laurent is a toy someone took away and won’t return. Like Damen is a child, begging. Don’t make me say it. Seconds trickle by, piling into a minute. Then two. “Do you want to be in a relationship with Laurent again?” “I thought I already was,” Damen says. “A friendship is a kind of relationship. You said that.” Neo closes his eyes, keeps them like that for a while. “I did, yes. Let me rephrase that—do you want to be in a romantic relationship with Laurent? Again?” There is no loophole this time, no two-meaning word Damen can latch onto. The truth sits heavy in him, not on his chest but somewhere deeper, inside a little crevice between some (probably important) organs. Saying no would be lying, saying yes would be diminishing. “I want things to be good,” Damen says. “That’s all.”
And in chapter 19, Damen is brutally honest with himself about how, even after everything, he still wants Laurent:
“You meet new people,” Neo says. “You go on dates, make new friends, find new interests. Despite what you might think right now, Laurent isn’t your only option. Dare I say, Laurent might not even be your best option.” The room is dark, darker than it was when the phone call started, but Damen’s eyes hurt like he’s been staring at a ball of light for too long. Everything hurts in a strange, modest way. A throb here, faint. An ache there, heatless. “I don’t want other options,” Damen says. “Well.” “How fucked up is that?” “Pretty fucked up,” Neo says. It makes Damen stop blinking. “Luckily, you’re already doing therapy. It’s only bound to get less complicated from here on. Or more, depending on how you look at it.” “I don’t even wanna look at it, to be honest.” “Then don’t. Take time off, let things cool down, think about what’s been said… No one is asking you to choose right this second.” It’s not that anyone is asking. It’s that it feels like he’s already made his choice.
“You didn’t tell me,” Damen says before he can think not to. “Tell you what?” “How bad it was.” Laurent’s thumb traces the t in team. It’s a bit crooked, even from Damen’s perspective. “It was pretty bad,” he says, slowly, “before you came back. Things were better once he started seeing you again.” “You call that better?” “Yes,” Laurent says. I would have come back, Damen thinks, if you’d told me. Except it’s not true; he would have come back for much less. He’s here now, sitting across from Laurent in this mediocre coffee shop, talking things out, making an effort, thinking of reaching out to finally, finally, hold Laurent’s hand. It’s strange, looking at Laurent and knowing he’s the only other person on earth that feels the same way he does. Where else would Damen go? Who else would he talk to? No one will ever get it, not the way Laurent does. And Laurent knows it. He must, or else he would not be sitting here either. There is only this, Damen thinks. At least for him, there will only ever be this.
So there is that. Damen is hopelessly devoted to Laurent. But that doesn’t make getting back together with him a good decision. Love would not be a good reason to return to an abusive relationship.
Another NOT good reason would be Damen believing the fact that he made mistakes cancels out Laurent’s harmful behavior. The text makes that explicitly clear through Neo:
Neo’s pen hops; a period appears at the end of a sentence. “Apologies can be hard to navigate. It’s sort of like… You’ve wronged me, and you know that you’ve wronged me, and now you’re apologizing for it while expecting me to forgive you. It’s quite a lot to put on a person.” “There are degrees to wrong,” Damen says. His chair feels smaller, like it’s locking him in instead of holding him up. The armrests keep getting in the way of his elbows. “And it’s not like I didn’t have stuff I had to apologize for too. I don’t get why you’re trying to make this seem like a bad thing.” “I’m not.” “Then why—” “Do you think you deserved an apology from Laurent?” Damen leans back and back and back, until his shoulder blades find something solid. Did he deserve…? He’d wanted one, once. In Nikandros’s guest room, with only beige and white and terracotta everything around him, he’d had staring matches with his own phone. He’d thought Laurent might call, at the very beginning. Apologizing. Begging. But Laurent never did. “Yeah,” Damen says. Neo’s head begins to tilt. “You don’t sound too sure about that.” “I am sure.” “All right,” Neo says. “Why do you deserve an apology?” “I told you already. He treated me like I was an idiot.” “How?” “How—what?” “How exactly did he treat you like you were an idiot? What were his actions towards you?” “I,” Damen starts, but something in Neo’s face makes him pause. “He’d say things when we argued.” “Such as?” “That I was an asshole.” Neo nods. “And how did you feel when you heard him say that? Did you feel like it was fair?” “I felt like he was an asshole,” Damen says. “Sometimes.” “Whereas now you feel like he was right?” He was right about Nicaise. And maybe about Ancel, too. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” “I don’t want you to say anything,” Neo says. “I’m just trying to get you to think about things from a different perspective. Laurent apologized, which is an important—not to say crucial—step in rebuilding any kind of relationship. But it seems to me that you’re holding onto this newly found belief that because you acted a certain way, because you made mistakes, you somehow deserved the way he treated you throughout the last stages of your relationship.” “That’s not what I think,” Damen says. “All right. Then you think you deserved the apology because the way he treated you was wrong.” “Yes. But…” “But…?” Damen’s face feels hot, the heat lodged right over his molars. “Doesn’t it kind of cancel out? Like, we both fucked up.” “Those are two different issues,” Neo says. “So no, they don’t cancel out. What he did to you and what you did to him are obviously connected, but someone doing something wrong or bad is not an excuse to do the wrong or bad thing back to them.” Neo gives his pen a tap. “Or it does, I suppose. It depends on your belief system. But you don’t strike me as an ‘eye for an eye’ fan.” I don’t want any eyes, Damen thinks.
I interpret the failed second try (or second strike) of Damen and Laurent’s relationship to have been somewhat based on the “cancel out” reasoning from above. The “cancel out” and move past approach did not work because they failed to address the many insecurities, communication failures, and problematic patterns that plagued the first time around. A discussion with Neo (again) makes this clear. Damen hasn’t yet learned to listen to what Laurent is saying without letting his insecurities and anger get in the way:
But Damen isn’t in Laurent’s position. You’ll never get it, Laurent had said about Nicaise. Maybe it’s true. “I get why he did it. I’ve been thinking, and it’s not—I get it. Nicaise being embarrassed, wanting Laurent in the room because he was the least angry of—” “I don’t think that’s why,” Neo says. “Or at least, that’s not what you’ve just told me Laurent said about the whole thing.” “What?” “Laurent talked extensively about roles. Did you notice that?” “No.” “He presents himself as the scapegoat for Nicaise’s anger, while you’re the one Nicaise admires and wants to impress.” Tap, tap, tap. Damen imagines Neo’s fingers flying across the keyboard. “It seems to me Nicaise wasn’t concerned about the different intensity levels of your—as in, yours and Laurent’s—anger. He knew you were both angry.” “Laurent was better at handling it.” “Was he?” “I couldn’t stop thinking about the guy,” Damen says. Guys, his brain supplies, helpful as ever. “I still can’t. Even now, I know it’s not—that’s not important. I was yelling at Nicaise. I wasn’t listening.” “And that’s why Nicaise didn’t want you to go with him to the clinic?” Damen closes his eyes. He needs to repaint his ceiling, do something about the lack of texture there. “Laurent said something about abandonment,” Neo tries. A nudge. “You’ve mentioned Nicaise doesn’t do well with change, that he’s got a tendency to latch onto routines and people. Do you think it might be possible that he was trying to preserve the relationship he has with you?” “By keeping me out of a medical examination room.” “Yes.” “That’s what Laurent said.” “Well,” Neo says. “It sounds plausible.”
Damen wanted magically for them to be over their past:
“Right,” Damen says. “You don’t do should and shouldn’t. I forgot.” “Are you upset?” Are you angry with me? “I don’t know,” Damen says. “We were supposed to be past this, and now it’s out there and I can’t—we can’t—” “How were you supposed to be past this, if this had never been discussed before today?” “You said it’s impossible to discuss everything.”
So, I don’t think it’s a strong interpretation of the text to say that @thickenmyblood is trying to present Damen in an unfairly negative light in order to excuse Laurent’s much worse behavior and thereby make it okay for them to get back together. Cancelling out isn’t what the HEA of the story is set up to be about.
That said – and given the fact that Damen is still in love with Laurent – what GOOD reasons might Damen have to try the relationship again?
For one, he is beginning to understand better what the fights with Laurent about Nicaise were about. Moreover, they have now explicitly acknowledged that they are co-parenting Nicaise and Laurent has expressed a clear commitment to them parenting Nicaise as a team.
For another, Damen has a much improved understanding of the role of therapy and the complexities of mental health. He has a long ways to go on this front, but I don’t think we’ll see him dismissing or belittling Laurent’s mental health needs. Moreover, Damen has ways of addressing his own mental health needs and talking things through with a person who doesn’t share his triggers and emotional investments around Laurent.
For a third, he has made a commitment to working through their issues in therapy and has concluded that he trusts Laurent to try just as hard as he will to repair and strengthen their relationship.
Crucially, Damen has also learned to stand up for himself when he feels Laurent is implying that he is incapable of understanding things. This means he can point it out and Laurent can recognize when he is retreating into a defensive, harmful pattern. This also allows Damen to indicate that something isn’t obvious to him and to ask Laurent to explain it kindly and clearly. I think that is the only way they can reconcile their very different life histories and relationships to social normativity.
ONCE AGAIN, believing this about HIUH Damen relative to HIUH Laurent does not mean that I believe this is something all (or even very many) real life people who were previously in unhealthy relationships should aim for or could achieve.
Which brings us to our bonus questions:
A. Is an HIUH Laurent who harms Damen through abusive behavior mischaracterized relative to the canon source material?
No, in fact, this is not a mischaracterization. Laurent abused Damen in canon. He took him as a slave. He sought Damen’s public humiliation. He had Damen whipped to an extent that would have killed most other people. He placed Damen in a situation that (for almost any other person) would have resulted in a violent public rape. He also forced Damen to engage in public and non-consensual oral sex. Later, when he understood Damen more emotionally and was feeling insecure or threatened, he lied about his feelings and motivations out of shame and self-hatred and with the aim of hurting Damen enough to drive him away.
B. Is an HIUH Damen who chooses to be with Laurent despite past abuse mischaracterized relative to the canon source material?
Damen fell in love with Laurent after all that abuse because he came to understand its source and because he saw other sides of Laurent that were caring and honorable and expressed a commitment to achieving justice, even if not by fully honest means. He came to understand Laurent as a survivor, even before he became aware of what exactly Laurent had survived. He stuck with Laurent through all of Laurent’s attempts to push him away and fought for what should have been an impossible relationship. And throughout this process, he learned about his own naivete and to question key elements of his upbringing, like the quest for war glory and the belief that “perfect treatment” justified slavery.
Captive Prince is a seductive and enthralling trilogy. And we willingly suspend any disbelief about whether Laurent’s trauma can truly be overcome simply by Damen’s noble nature and magical healing cock.
Why not do the same for HIUH? (Or, you know, just stop reading it.)
Although I do think Maca may owe us some healing cock. Just sayin’.
#captive prince#captive prince fanfic#hiuh#damen x laurent#thickenmyblood#hand in unlovable hand#neither my wife nor child reads this fic and i suck at fandom these days but i need to talk about this masterwork#clearly when you are just about to finish your academic book you experience a sudden need to analyze the fuck out of other things
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While I'm on my Hannibal essay bullshit, here's a copy/paste (plus images) from a response I had to this post that I wanted to get out there in its own post regarding the symbolic differences between the stag and the stag man:
I interpret the main difference as one representing Will’s Becoming and the other representing Will slowly learning Hannibal’s darkness—and then his humanity.
The stag initially appears as a symbol for Will’s “madness” due to his encephalitis in Season 1, with the scene of the antlers on fire being the most obvious indicator to me as well as how he seems less in control of it in this season. He sees it wandering around and he’s afraid of it. He’s afraid of what he’s seeing and why. He’s unable to control its actions. It’s out of his hands.
But in Season 2, he gains control of it. In the dream he has of killing Hannibal, he uses the stag to achieve this end. When he’s in the head of Randall Tier, the stag is with him and once again, it kills on his command.
What was originally madness, a frenzied spiral into darkness with no say in where he landed, becomes more of what I view as a “controlled descent” in Season 2. He is fully aware of his actions. He often seems to excuse his darker actions and inclinations “I need to do this because ____” blank being any number of things such as his job, a “righteous” purpose, his seduction of Hannibal to catch him, or Hannibal’s own seduction of him and influence on him. I think that could be why the stag sometimes feels confused with a symbol of Hannibal. It’s Will, but he’s not telling himself that. He’s trying to convince himself it isn’t his nature. He HAS to do it. He doesn’t enjoy it. He needs to tell himself he doesn’t enjoy it.
As for stag man, Wendi darling, that’s been explained really well in recent posts, but to lay out my thoughts, it’s Will’s association for Hannibal moving forward and backward, the teacup shattering and then coming back together. He doesn’t see it until about the end of Season 1, during the scene where he confronts Hannibal and is shot in the shoulder by Jack:
Before then, it’s the stag. In the “did you just smell me?” scene, Will’s intuition is trying to tell him in his compromised mental state what Hannibal is. The stag statue is directly linked to him seeing the stag, and the stag is his own darkness steadily being stripped bare by Hannibal’s influence on him, which he doesn’t yet recognize. Only when he unravels the truth of Hannibal’s darkness does he see the stag man, and as mentioned, he doesn’t see it anymore after Mizumono. After Hannibal’s betrayal of Will in S1, Will convinces himself (understandably) that Hannibal doesn’t care about him. He’s using him. He was never his friend and all he wants from Will is a show, wind him up and watch him go. Mizumono proves him wrong on a fundamental, inescapable level. He wasn’t aware of the humanity and love Hannibal could possess until that moment, so his view of him as a monster shatters the moment he recognizes it. What I love about each season finale is how every final episode can represent a new crucial realization in Hannibal and Will’s relationship; S1 is Will realizing Hannibal’s darkness, S2 is Will finding Hannibal’s humanity again in the cruelest of circumstances, and S3 is him reconciling the two and letting himself accept both—letting himself accept Hannibal and himself as an extent.
This is largely open to interpretation, but those are my thoughts on the stag vs. the stag man and what they represent in the story. We watch the show from Will’s perspective, a notoriously unreliable narrator, so it makes sense that associations would get mixed up in his head, causing the viewer to become confused, too. That said, they are two distinct entities in the story and represent two distinct elements in the story: Will’s Becoming in relation to his bond with Hannibal and Hannibal’s darker traits juxtaposing his humanity, as viewed through Will’s eyes...
...hence why they can often be seen in direct opposition to one another, like the dream sequence in Shiizakana.
#hannibal#hannibal nbc#nbc hannibal#will graham#hannibal lecter#hannigram#murder husbands#hannibal analysis#blue's essays#blue rambles#my post
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intrusive
Summary: My wife, you think, briefly, and then you’re in front of the camera.
Again, it floats down the stream, like everything else.
--
The collapse of a marriage-- and a man.
Pairings: Mark/Celine, Wil/Celine
Warnings: depictions of suicide by drowning, hanging, shooting, poisoning, stabbing; infidelity; intrusive thoughts of pressure, doubt, and inadequacy; unreliable narrator; serious arguments between partners
yeah, it's a heavy one
support me?
@opprose @statictay @otterlyinluv @volbeast @mirrorslament
It’s just a thought.
Just a little one, deep down, in the depths of your mind. You wouldn’t pay it any heed, treat it like the millions of others vying for attention and bubbling up only to be swept downstream.
It’s quiet, and faded, and you wouldn’t listen, except--
Except.
The director is fretting. The writers brandish their pages. The producer threatens the funds. They can’t afford another day-- it’s now or never.
You have a wife waiting at home. You love her.
(Or you’ve been told you do, and it sounds right enough to believe.)
Stay a while longer. Finish it.
It’s nothing, hardly more than a whisper.
The chance at the money, the fame, though. You have a home to upkeep, an image to maintain.
You’ve always wanted it. You could lose it.
“Wait,” you call, before you even realize you’ve done it. “I can stay. It’d be a shame to waste all this effort, wouldn’t it? I don’t mind.”
You don’t. Something stirs in your chest, something not quite warm and not quite pleasant, but satisfied all the same.
My wife, you think, briefly, and then you’re in front of the camera.
Again, it floats down the stream, like everything else.
__________
She holes up in her hobby room often. It doesn’t bother you.
Except, well, it does. A little.
You aren’t clingy. People like you aren’t clingy.
(You are, it hurts when others aren’t near. Who are you without the people around you?)
You don’t know what she does in there. She’s always been secretive, enigmatic smiles and sharp, flashing eyes.
You like that about her, except for when she aims it your way.
All she says is she’s studying things. Things bigger than the two of you, the world around you, things under the surface.
You didn’t take her for a philosopher, your wife. She’s always been too cynical and straightforward than to deal in what-ifs, but you suppose things change.
People change.
She has her suitcase and your stomach ties in knots. “Where are you off to? We just got back from the mountains, dove.” You try it with a chuckle, try to make it a tease, but it’s weak. Shaky.
“I have to study,” she says in her sharp way, condescending-- as if you couldn’t understand no matter how hard she tried. “The city is too busy, I need clarity.
“I’ll only be gone a month,” she says, softer, coming to you to barely brush your cheek. Her fingers are thin, soft-- she’s always run cooler than you. “These things take time, and it’s important to me. Don’t you understand?”
Don’t cling. She’s her own woman, and you love her.
You nod, jerkier than you’d like, all while your chest twists uncomfortably. “Of… of course, dove. I do. I love you.”
Finally, she smiles, and presses it to your own. “I love you, too.”
She’s gone, and the manor feels wrong.
__________
A star is a flame.
One could work tirelessly for hours with little reward, and then-- with the right conditions, with the right luck, with the right people-- they catch alight. A new star, a new beacon to light the silver screen.
Some think that’s the end of the work. Once the fire is lit, there’s no need to tend it-- your star shines bright forever.
Any woodsman or actor-- and you’re both-- could tell you that’s quite the opposite.
Audition here, review there, rehearsal, costume, publicity, writing, and all of it for three features at once, just to keep your head above water.
Your heads. You have a wife to care for, after all.
So you have to schmooze. Your director asked for you to show-- after all, you’re the star, and people need to see you in order for that to matter, in order for it to happen again.
You’ve been at it for hours, the room a whirl of faces and the scent of alcohol and tobacco; it’s hard to tell up from down when the third identical producer mentions a script uncannily similar to the one his triplet pitched an hour-- hours?-- ago.
Could it even be the same man? Has he forgotten, too?
Amidst the chaos, you spot the clock. The face is ornate, yellowed, but stark-- midnight, or certainly close to it.
You’re supposed to be home. You’d promised to cut down on the late nights, now that she’s home; if you sleep until noon-- again-- she’ll be upset.
She’ll be more upset when your fortune is gone. Secure the role.
It feels like you’ve swallowed something icy, the cold leaching into your limbs as the clock chimes, but it’s not so bad, really. It’s not hard to turn back to the producer and apologize-- you’re notoriously absent-minded, you know-- and the cold only lasts a moment before you feel nice and…
Not numb. Just… good.
__________
She usually comes out of her room or home from her trips looking contemplative, lost in thought.
On occasion, she even looks mildly frustrated, setting her suitcase down or closing the door behind her firmly-- a rare treat. She seems to consider showing real emotion beneath her.
(You are not qualified in any way to wonder why. She’s told you that.)
This time--
You aren’t sure why you came to the door in the first place. You were in the middle of work, going over lines, and while you might get up to pace and mutter, you don’t wander the house.
You certainly don’t go bother her when she’s busy. That was a mistake you only made once.
“Dove?”
She’s standing, back pressed hard against the door, and when she looks at you--
You can’t help a step back in confusion. Your wife is the picture of stoicism, most days. Little rattles her.
Today, her dark eyes are wide, skin paler than normal, and though it’s difficult to see, fine tremors run through her fingers.
She’s afraid.
It’s a surreal sight, making your head spin, and you say simply what first comes to mind. “You’re alright?”
It’s… not what you should have said, or even want to say. It isn’t what you would have said, not by any means. You would have run to her, taken her face in your hands, look for any threat or danger.
But you don’t. You just… ask.
She must realize. Her eyes narrow, just for a moment, at your dispassionate question. Then, with a breath, she straightens. “Nothing. I’m alright, just… overwhelmed for a moment.”
“I--” You shake your head, the dizziness passing as you blink. What did you say? How could you? “I’m sorry, I didn’t-- you are alright? What happened in there?”
It doesn’t relieve her to hear what you really wish to say. Still frowning at you, she shakes her head. “Nothing, dearest. Nothing you should worry about. I can handle it.”
That’s what you’re here for. To handle it, to take care of her. Why didn’t you?
You swallow hard, around an icy feeling becoming more and more familiar to you. “Are you--”
“I’m sure,” she snaps, eyes flinty, and she stalks off past you, cardigan fluttering in her wake.
__________
You start having nightmares after that.
Innocuous at first, as much as nightmares can be; mundane things like showing up unprepared or missing a train, flubbing your lines. Nothing enough to frighten you, just make you uncomfortable, uneasy.
You don’t bother bringing it up to your wife-- she’s been frosty, lately, busy in her hobby room.
You don’t bother bringing it up to your friends-- they’re busy halfway around the world or working on fixing up your hometown.
Besides, they’re just little things, inconsequential. You can just go right back to sleep after a chuckle at the mundanity of it all.
Until you can’t.
__________
something’s under your skin
you can feel it
roiling like icy magma, stinking of pitch and death
you stumble to your bathroom
sick
you heave despite yourself
thick, sticky black bile splatters in the sink
when you look up
it has a thousand eyes
it has a thousand mouths
it Smiles at you
__________
So.
You don’t wake up screaming, at least, waking everyone in the house with your terror.
You do, however, wake up retching. The feeling remains from your dream, something boiling in your gut, crawling up your throat.
You retrace the same steps, fumbling for the bathroom light, and just make it to the sink before you heave.
It isn’t black, or sticky. Just normal bile, as far as you can tell, but something still clogs your throat, making it hard to breathe.
Look up. That’s the next part. The dream is already off course, so it can’t be awful. It can’t be that…
Thing.
It feels like hours before you can make yourself look in the mirror, glacial, infinitesimal movements, terror seizing your heart, before you finally, finally raise your eyes.
Behind your face, gray, gaunt...
A dark shape, watching you.
Despite yourself, you yelp and spin around, though whether to attack or attempt to flee, you aren’t sure.
It’s nothing but your wife, standing in the doorway, her dark cardigan once again slung around her shoulders to ward off the chill.
She tilts her head at you, dark eyes curious, searching. “Are you alright? You ran like the hounds of Hell were after you.”
You laugh. You’ll refute to anyone the strained, hoarse tones of hysteria. “No-- yes. Yes, I’m… just some indigestion. I guess the vichyssoise didn’t agree with me-- the onions.”
“The… onions? In vichyssoise?”
There’s a glimmer of amusement there, some fondness in the teasing, and you leap for it. “Well, whatever the French put in there, aside from the awful name. I’m sorry I don’t know as much as my darling, well-traveled wife.”
It’s a joke, is all. Sure, you can take a joke too far, but she’s always had thicker skin and the ability to give as good as she gets. You like that about her.
The way she immediately shutters off isn’t like her at all.
She’s hiding something. She’s not sensitive, she’s hiding. What would she hide from you?
The thought makes your stomach lurch once again, cold nausea spiraling up, and you turn back to retch into the sink once more.
Once you’ve finished brushing your teeth, she isn’t in bed, anymore. The cold darkness is all that keeps you company.
__________
He asks you for money.
He didn’t quite grow up the same way you did, the way your brother-in-law did. He doesn’t have the funds to draw on, not enough to satisfy his craving for adventure, and the military could only take him so many places before his attitude-- and the end of the war-- sent him back home.
You were happy to have him. He’s always been as good as a brother, too, and you have more than enough rooms in your manor for him.
Your wife welcomed him, too. She’s always been part of your group, so the way they embrace is familiar, fond smiles shared between old friends.
He doesn’t seem to care-- even notice-- that you wake up every night and pace until the early hours, your dreams full of black sludge and too many teeth. No comment on the bags under your eyes or your slouch.
It feels normal.
Then, he asks for money.
“I need to get out there again!” He paces, hands moving just as his mouth and feet do, a million miles a minute. “I’ve wanted to explore, you know that-- all of that land, ready to be seen, animals I’ve never hunted. Wouldn’t you want to see if you could take down a cape buffalo?”
You’ve heard stories. “Not really, Colonel,” you say with a laugh, “but I guess I could never stop you. How long do you think will be enough?”
“Oh.” He stops, rocks back on his heels, as if he didn’t expect you to say yes. “Well-- to get passage there, and spend enough time exploring-- well, I wouldn’t want to really put you out—”
Once fixed with a look, he chuckles, himself, albeit sheepishly. “Ah… a month and a half?”
You smile, and reach out a hand to shake his. “Consider it done,” you reply, warmly. “Just bring back some good stories if you can’t take down that buffalo.”
__________
Only a week later, your wife has her suitcase again, standing by the door.
You’ve gotten used to it by now, though it still hurts. No one to wake up in the middle of the night, at least.
She’s hiding. You don’t know what she does out there.
You let her go.
__________
It keeps happening.
___________
You ask your brother-in-law over.
“Do you think it was a mistake?” You ask it over a drink, some cocktail you heard about at a party what seems like a million years ago. His hooch is better than any bar’s. “Me and her?”
He hesitates, but it could just as easily be him concentrating, the clinking of ice and bar utensils in the glass filling the silence.
“No,” he says, when he’s sitting beside you on the couch, the picture of put together despite the brown liquor in his hand. You don’t look like that, haven’t for…
For…
(They have to keep taking in your costumes. Extra makeup and hair products.
Since when? For how long?)
“I think you’re strong personalities,” he continues, halting in a way he doesn’t in his councilman speeches. “I think you’ll be alright.”
He’s lying. He’ll always be her brother, first.
You lie, too. Once he leaves, you finish the rest of the bottle on your own.
__________
She’s home. She just got back from somewhere sunny, freckles on her skin and a lightness to her dark hair.
You’re home. You’ve been shooting and rehearsing and reading non-stop for a week, a drink to put you to your empty bed.
“I’ll be heading out again, soon,” she says conversationally, sitting at her vanity. “I have a lead on something very interesting.”
You’ll be all alone in here. This sprawling maze of big, overstuffed rooms, and one little you.
And whatever still haunts your dreams.
“So soon?” You sound hoarser than you’d like. Where did your radio voice go?
“The mysteries of the world wait for no one, darling,” she chides, as if she doesn’t notice. “I have to go. It’s important to me.”
Your stomach feels cold.
“Aren’t I?” She shifts in her chair, surprised, and you meet her eyes. “I’m your husband. I barely see you.”
She sets her jaw-- and there she goes again, shuttered and aloof. “I barely see you. We each have our own projects, it seems.”
“You just got back.” It’s creeping up and out, into your chest. “I have a break in filming. I could go with you, or you could put it off. I want to spend time with you-- that’s why I married you.”
“I’m allowed to go, aren’t I? You’ve never stopped me before.”
“Because I thought you’d take time between them to be with me. I don’t want to control you, I just want to be with you.” You heave a breath, but the cold doesn’t go away. “I’m coming. I want to, please.”
“You can’t.”
It’s fast. Too fast to simply be a dismissal, and she won’t look at you, and--
“What are you hiding from me?”
It’s like watching yourself on screen: you see her, still sitting, and yourself, approaching, face twisted, shouting in a voice that you’ve never heard before but couldn’t be anyone else. You feel cold, head spinning with thoughts, too fast and thick to stay afloat.
She’s lying, she’s hiding, you did nothing, why is she doing this to you?
To her credit, she doesn’t cower, monstrous as you see yourself. Instead, she stands, half a head shorter but steel in her spine, and stares you down. “Nothing,” she spits. “Not a damn thing. If this is how you’re going to be about it, I think you need the time to yourself.”
The cold immediately vanishes, and you are painfully aware of yourself once more. “Wait--”
She isn’t close enough for your outstretched hand, and as she storms off, you catch yourself in the vanity mirror.
Something dark drips from your face. In the dim lighting, you can’t tell the color.
You aren’t sure which would be worse-- red or black.
__________
You saw them.
You came home early, the first day you could since you can’t remember when. Your house is big, but it’s all hard surfaces, and for all your faults, you aren’t a fool.
You know what those sounds are.
It’s with no satisfaction that you open the door and see skin, a large shape hovering over your wife, two pairs of wide eyes turning to yours.
Cold doesn’t fill you this time, and you are well aware of every inch of your body as you step forward to grab him.
“How long?” You dig your fingers into his bare shoulders, words a growl through your bared teeth. “Both of you, behind my back--”
“When you leave her all alone, with some starlet on your arm?”
What’s satisfying is hauling back and punching him right in the jaw, seeing him reel back, though not fall. He was an army man, after all.
“I would never,” you hiss. “I stay out to secure this life for us, when she’s out at all hours, and so are you-- oh, God.”
It all snaps into place, and you choke a moment. You worry it’s on that bubbling black ooze again, but what comes out is laughter. Horrible, mad laughter, until your vision blurs the two of them into some awful, skin-colored mass. “The whole time. Ever since you came back.”
“Darling--”
“I’m right!” You try to take a breath, but it just comes as a wheeze. “I’m right. The both of you, behind my back, for months. It-- it was right. It told me. It told me about you.”
You swallow hard, the air cold and thick around you. The voice in your head, that doubt, that sludge-- all one in the same, always right, always telling you the truth.
When they would all lie to you. You friend, your brother-in-law, your wife.
“Who knew about it? Your brother? Our staff? The fucking-- the attorney? Hell, maybe you told the milkman, too. Everyone but me.”
If they try to speak, you don’t bother to listen. “Get the fuck out of my house. Both of you. I never want to see your faces again.”
You don’t stay to see if they heed the advice.
You go to your office, lock yourself inside, and once the house is quiet and the door shuts for the final time, you open your desk drawer.
You need to talk to someone.
__________
The calls won’t go through. The line is busy, or the secretaries take a message.
You send letters. They go unanswered, either fully ignored or returned to you with a big red stamp on the front.
Hell, once you make a trip to town, still stinking of alcohol and weeks-old clothes, hair all over the place and beard overgrown.
The mayor (her brother) isn’t in, and the attorney (his friend) is in the next county over with a trial.
Your actor friends are shooting, and the directors and producers and writers won’t return the calls of someone who abandons their shoots without notice.
They don’t care if you aren’t of use.
No one is there for you.
No one wants to be there for you.
You can only think of one more thing to try.
One bottle of alcohol will take the sting out of it, you’re sure.
__________
no, I don’t think so
it’s not going to work that way
you need to stay alive
__________
The gun is still smoking when you come to, lying in a pool of blood.
Your head hurts, but there’s no hole-- just skin, and your hand comes back sticky and wet.
Trembling, you raise the gun again. You were just drunk enough to miss, is all.
__________
listen to me
I can make the pain go away
just stop
__________
You drink another bottle even though the room spins and you can’t read the label.
__________
You try the gun again and again, until there are no more bullets left in the chamber.
__________
You leap from your highest balcony, aiming right for the concrete below.
__________
A rope.
A knife.
A hammer.
Your knight’s decorative sword.
Another gun.
Poison.
__________
It’s funny, you think idly, waiting for your bathtub to fill up.
Rasputin has nothing on you.
__________
When every inch of your body aches, your skin caked with thick, dried blood, you sprawl on the floor of your office, staring at the ceiling.
“Why--” You clear your throat. The hanging must have bruised your vocal cords. “Why can’t you let me die? I don’t think I can…”
Because-- and it’s the first time it’s ever responded to you, likely because it’s the first time you’ve tried to talk to it-- you don’t want to. I know you don’t.
“I can’t-- they took everything from me.” To your horror, tears burn in your eyes, and they make trails through the blood at your temples. “It’s—”
--not fair? I know. You didn’t deserve it, did you?
It croons, almost, not so cold. It feels like a gentle hand to a frightened child, though he can’t see anything at all in the evening gloom.
“… No,” you manage to choke, and you sniff, something horrid and disgusting and completely at odds with your image. “Who would?”
I know what you do deserve, though. What any heartbroken soul deserves.
Despite yourself, you snort. “I’m not looking for company, if that’s what you mean.”
Only if you’re searching for it, it replies easily, a note of humor in its tone. No. What people like you deserve is revenge.
“… Revenge?”
Revenge, it whispers, almost gleeful. Why should they get to run away together and leave you alone? Why should they get the happy ending you worked so hard for? Why should everyone ignore you and your pain and get away with it?
Part of you wants to argue, that they weren’t ignoring you, that they were simply busy… but friends make time, don’t they? Especially when you try and try to reach out.
Friends don’t cheat behind your back. Friends don’t take sides.
You begin to tremble, though you aren’t sure what from. “I… I just wanted us all to be happy.”
I can make it happen. I’m a storyteller, just like you. We can give you the happiest ending either of us can imagine.
It sounds good. It sounds wonderful. Just what you deserve. “What do I have to do?”
You can’t see anything, but you just feel it: thousands of mouths, Smiling at you.
Let me in.
You’ve read and told stories your whole life. You’ve heard about deals with the Devil since you were a child. You should know better than to let in something that’s been haunting you for ages.
When you have no one left to turn to, though, even the Devil sounds like good company. You nod.
__________
The cold burns.
It starts in your chest and burns like the worst fire, filling up and taking everything it can to fuel more. Your heart, your lungs, your stomach-- yet deeper.
Your soul, itself, twists in agony as it burns away, and your body buckles along with it.
__________
You stand tall, clean again, your weight and vigor returned. Your smile and your voice charm anyone you meet. You move through the world as if you own it.
You do, now. You own everything.
There’s no light in your eyes, anymore, when you look in a mirror, but that’s alright.
A soul is a small price to pay for a happy ending.
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there are so many things I could say and back up with my annotations but there are some things I want to say
- connor is an unreliable narrator, but in an interesting way. unlike evan, connor's text is purposely written like he's trying to seem WORSE than he is. that's why I think rereading the book as an adult (especially if you have worked with kids) is so incredibly tragic. it's easier to see every way he was utterly failed both personally and systemically when you are no longer the child being failed personally and systemically
- connor is canonically a victim of the troubled teen industry and says it was BETTER than rehab. this genuinely breaks my heart because you can catch little pieces of CPTSD throughout his text and dialogue—he becomes extremely defensive and assumes evan is "tricking him into looking crazy," he states relief there's no longer anyone "waiting around the corner to catch him or check for red in his eyes" this child was treated like a criminal and the one place he felt safe in was removed when he chose to take the blame for something that he didn't do (see below)
- connor taking the fall for his... situationshipfriend miguel because he knew his parents were rich enough and he was white enough to get a more lenient punishment for WEED (which. the criminalization of that and the stigma is a whole OTHER thing) this haunts me. the act itself is noble, unhealthily self sacrificing, but that's not what gets me. his proclaimed friend not only allows him to do this, but even after connor GOES TO REHAB FOR HIM miguel doesn't tell his own mom the truth, causing her to ban the two of them hanging out and connor LOSES his only safe space right after undergoing rehab that he never even needed
- connor canonically has been put on and off multiple medications , we unfortunately don't know when this started but we DO know it was not in his control. SSRIs take a long time to work and shouldn't be switched quickly even for adults, let alone teenagers, and they ESPECIALLY should not be used as stand-ins for accommodations of a disability. there's far more I could say about other medications this might have been such as an SNRI (which connor has said to have less than favorable opinions of) and this is possibly even MORE concerning
- there has been a BUZZ on tiktok about how zoe was a girl icon for being forced to mourn her "abusive brother" and while they definitely had a toxic sibling dynamic fed by their toxic parental dynamic, the idea the toxicity was one sided is just... wrong. not even subjectively, the narrative WANTS you to know this is wrong, at least in the book. the musical... lets just say, im glad they wrote the book. it doesn't undo the honestly pretty shit messaging of the musical, but it adds context that helps derail claims like the one above that add further stigma to victims of suicide. zoe is verbally degrading to connor in recollections and in the small amount of time we hear her speak about him (though, this does change as her character develops throughout the book and she begins to mourn him properly.) zoe is a glass child. she resents all of the negative attention connor received because she didn't get any attention at all. so, she often sides with larry through the book, who is said to have more or less gotten tired of connor and considered him attention seeking, which would be something INCREDIBLY validating for a glass child to hear. zoe is, unfortunately and ironically, often written with detail but no substance. evan, who I could talk about at length and very angrily, constantly prattles small things he notices about her—but, and im not sure if this is the author's intention or not, she barely gets any true characterization outside of her interactions with others, which strangely almost makes her a side character (which i suppose she is) but there are some core parts of HER identity and her character alone that can be picked up throughout the book and i could go on for hours about that and i will not now but i will
- i didn't even touch on cynthia and larry and their abuse (yes! people can love their children and be abusive) but by god i will. by god
dear evan hansen fandom please interact. if u disagree i will probably point an autism beam at you in the form of a personally crafted video essay on why I am right and you are wrong. I have read this book inside and out
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wait hang on 😭😭 are people seriously debating “he’s a complicated man” right now??
i agree that izzy’s an unreliable narrator, and i think that some of the things he’s said about ed aren’t necessarily true, much as many other things he’s said are also not necessarily true. he’s not really aware of the full picture the whole time, poor duck, as much as i adore him.
but like… besides the fact it really doesn’t have anything to do with wether or not you think izzy’s doing complex evil shit to ed on purpose, and people seem to be making it about that…
ed is VERY MUCH a complicated man. as someone who relates to ed probably more than stede or izzy… he’s absolutely a complicated man. ed can be violent, and suicidal, and he clearly experiences some form of emotional dysregulation, and he’s done things to people that weren’t justified. the crew was traumatised by ed’s behaviour and how much violence he placed them in a position to commit.
the way ed responds to rejection is so violent and out of proportion, his consecutive raids, his suicidal antagonism towards the crew… and for me and my personal issues, that’s extremely relatable… but it is NOT mentally well behaviour.
ed also exhibits patterns of disordered alcohol use, and his anger often causes him to lash out (yes, often at izzy who pushes his buttons, and yes, izzy’s behaviour is a factor in this. but it’s also worth noting ed has agency as a character and his violence is still violence, provoked or not) and one of his most integral traumas is how an act of violence saved him from the violent alcoholic who was his father.
there’s nothing about ed that’s not a complicated man. he’s done bad things that weren’t justified. that doesn’t make him a bad man. it makes him a complicated one. it’s very clear he knows how to be a better person. and that he can be. that the show left out a lot of that journey is really disappointing, but ed feels like he’s a monster and he does bad things to become the villain he thinks he deserves to be treated as, you know?
he is SUCH a complicated man. that doesn’t mean he’s irredeemable or bad, it doesn’t mean there’s a moral obligation to dislike him either. none of that’s the case. but izzy got it right when he called ed complicated. i think in some ways izzy had finally realised that he wasn’t always going to understand ed because ed wasn’t always going to think the way he did, but he was coming to accept that he didn’t need ed to be someone he could understand as long as ed was happy? does that make sense? i know that’s a sappy outlook on a canonically toxic relationship but i just cannot believe that there’s a genuinely widely accepted take going around which boils down to people thinking it’s wrong to call ed a complicated man. like, huh???? girl….
#izzy hands#ofmd critical#i mean the thing is that often when people point out how ed has moral complexities he’s done bad stuff#that he wasn’t necessarily justified for but he’s ultimately a sympathetic character#who can be a much better man than his father made him feel like he could#they’re often criticised for that#and particularly for the use of the word “violent” given ed is a man of colour#even though ed does do violent things onscreen#but the people who believe racism is holding ed accountable for his own actions#and suggesting he has agency outside of responding to izzy or being infatuated with stede#start to say it’s wrong to call ed a complicated man… dude.#WRONG TO CALL HIM C O M P L I C A T E D#i’m just saying 💀💀#how are more people not deciding that THAT is racism actually#why are we dehumanising ed by insisting he doesn’t have complexity and hasn’t done bad things ever#like guys. why the fuck are we doing that???
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Love Like Ghosts (Lord Huron)
I don't feel it till it hurts sometimes/Oh, go on baby, hurt me tonight/I want ours to be an endless song/Baby, in my eyes, you do no wrong/I don't feel it till it hurts sometimes/So go on, baby, hurt me tonight/All the spirits that I know I saw/Do you see no ghost in me at all?
"The use of ghosts as a metaphor for ghosts is just. so good. The idea of being haunted by your pasts love/seeing yourself as a ghost because of love is such a fascinating idea like?? Referring to the concept of love with "what ain't living can never really die" is really interesting because the love was "never living" meaning....that the love wasn't real? that the love was one sided? that they were never in love at all? it could mean a thousand different things and the entire song is skewed from the perspective of the narrator. The character narrator's of LH songs are....notoriously unreliable to put it lightly, and this one could be viewed in the same way. The narrator is adamant that the person they're singing to doesn't truly love them, but doesn't want them to leave her, but we have no way to know that for certain. She implies that the person is lying to her and doesn't truly want her with the line "You don't want me baby, please don't lie" but again, we don't know if thats true. It leaves this song is such a weird state of leaving the listener guessing and walking away with their own meaning of the song."
Against The Kitchen Floor (Will Wood)
And I swear! I will die trying!/I'm still in the process, but I'm making progress; I promise I honestly wanna prove improvement's possible, I swear!/I'm so fucking sorry! I'm not a good person, I'm barely a person at all, But someday I'll be perfect, and I'll make up for it all!
Less rare than scarce, less diamond then rough/Unlikely to be more than just the coal you failed to crush
I'm catatonic in your arms, crying, "How did I cause so much harm?"/I'm down pounding my head against the kitchen floor/Apologizing for my life and ever entering yours
The vertex of my redemption arc/I’m searching on that virgin heart
"The raw emotion! And I strongly relate to desperately wanting to improve for someone you love. I belt out this song when I feel really hopeless"
"my one OC. also me. also it's just a really good song. one of will's best imo. screaminbg"
"Literally hits almost all of my self-esteem issues. Feeling like people only care about you for your body? Check. Not understanding why anyone would want you? Check. Thinking that all you do is hurt people? Check. I don't cry very often but this song DEFINITELY made me teary"
"one of those if u aren’t paying attention to the lyrics ur like this is nice but once u hear them its an OW holy OW and guilt and I’m sorry feelings"
"Just. Loving someone but not feeling like you’re good enough and trying to improve."
"Not only does this song have lyrics that are deeply relatable to me, but this song also feels very deeply personal to the artist and I feel that anyone who listens to it for the first time has that same feeling of getting punched in the gut. Just the lyrics and the melody and Will Wood’s incredible vocals make this song an absolute masterpiece and I cry every time I hear it."
"One reason I'm attached to this song is because my friend sent it to me and said "I'm kin assigning you this song" and ruined my life (/j) It messed me up because I've always had a hard time in my life figuring myself out and dealing with my emotions, and for what feels like the first time, this song has been able to near perfectly describe how I feel about myself and my impact on other people, and it always just meant so much to me that my friend who sent it to me knows me better than I know myself and shared the song with me and I love them dearly."
Love Like Ghosts submitted by @danidoesathing
Against the Kitchen Floor submitted by @pixopolis + others
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Things I find are handled so interestingly well in the 2003 Fullmetal Alchemist compared to Brotherhood:
Ishval! The true horror and terror of Ishval is handled so much better: it is the centre of the show’s thesis about the violence done against other people in the name of scientific progress and the empire’s violence
Speaking of: racism is handled better in this show too! The way that Ed and Al are so callous and dismissive about Ishval through most of the show, despite Marcoh’s warnings, and it really doesn’t hit them until they go there in person and realize that Rick and Rio have suffered just like them: in fact, Rick and Rio have suffered even more than them. Ed and Al can always go back to Resembool. Rick and Rio can’t. The casual racism of our main characters is really good! It’s very realistic that Ed and Al believe the racist lies about Ishval for SO LONG, despite rationally understanding the military is bad
Liore! Because Liore gets to have this back-and-forth with Ishval, you get this really strong empathy and solidarity between Rose and Scar, as this representation of Ishval and Liore: religious brown people versus the Empire coming to genocide them out of existence...the solidarity and love between Scar and Rose and the peoples of Ishval and Liore is really good!
Ed and Al really get to be kids and get to be wrong a lot? They get to be such unreliable narrators in a way that is so interesting! When they say something about alchemy or make comments on other characters, they’re often wrong and misguided! Ed’s petulance and anger and stubborn defiance and Al’s naivete and inability to question other people’s lies gets them in trouble way more often than it does in Brotherhood and it really emphasizes just how much he and Al are children out of their depth in a horrible system, in a way that Brotherhood often doesn’t.
The metaphor of alchemy: Alchemy IS science. For all its goods, it is all the evils and fallouts of unethical science: science that is done at the expense of people, science that is done in the name of greed, science that is done only in the name of violence, and with this strong metaphor, the Philosopher’s Stone as this pinnacle of progress that is built on the blood of common people is just a less complicated metaphor. Because Alchemy is science and FMA 2003 is a commentary on imperialistic, colonial science that is so directly commenting on the Gulf War, it gets to say things much more angrily than I think Brotherhood ever gets to?? You feel the anger about the lies of the Gulf War in FMA 2003 and how it parallels to WW2 better. The animators seem more angry and I enjoy that more!
(More about pacing, characterization and the overall tone of the show under the cut!)
Although the show ultimately whiffs it, the homunculi being the leftover remnants of human transmutation allows for so many climatic, interesting conflicts between both the homunculi and humans, but also between different humans! Ed and Izumi and their relationship in this show is defined by their fundamental disagreements regarding the role of alchemy and what to do with the homunculi: and it is SO good!
I love that the homunculi are resentful of humans for living and want the philosopher’s stone to be human again! I could do without them all being controlled by a mysterious entity who is so much more boring than all of the other homunculi, but hey. That happened in Brotherhood too, Father’s very boring.
Speaking of the homunculi: they are so much scarier and intimidating!! When they show up to a fight, pretty much everybody loses! It’s great! It’s not until the last 10-15 episodes of the show that Ed is able to actually put up a fight against them, so you really feel the stakes everytime they show up on screen. They kill Hughes masterfully, they beat the shit out of Scar, they beat the shit out of Ed and Al, they beat the shit out of Izumi--they’re genuinely scary and I love it! In Brotherhood, they are able to evenly fight them SO MUCH MORE QUICKLY and I think it makes them less of a threat than in 2003.
The main women in Ed and Al’s lives get so much more to do! Maria, Sheska, Izumi and Winry all have a HUGE amount of screentime compared to Brotherhood, where Winry is mostly just running around and has very little initiative to investigate the main plot! Here, she and Sheska investigate homunculi, participate in fights and really are emotionally impacted by events. Izumi barely shows up in Brotherhood ever, and she is a fundamental player in the game in 2003! And Lieutenant Maria Ross gets to really actually play the role of ‘first adult to be like CHILDREN SHOULDN’T BE IN THE ARMY’ which gives her genuine depth and emotionality.
Oh, Martel’s a real character too! She and Al are fun, I enjoy their banter and I enjoy that she gets to really emphasize to Ed and Al that Ishval was entirely a false-flag operation
Rose too! I love that Rose comes back as a real character and not cameo! I love that Rose’s rape too, is not just this moment where Ed truly and really realizes that the military does interpersonal violence, but also is something that motviates Rose herself! I love that moment where she screams at Ed to keep walking, just as he shouted at her at the beginning of the show. I love that her continuing on as a character means that Ed’s shitty speech at the beginning of the show gets to be recontextualized as a thing of strength again. I love her resilience, and I love her.
On the villain-side, at the expense of Greed being a character, Lust gets to be a very sympathetic character! I love her contemplations on why she wants to be human, I love her slow realization that she’s tired of the fight, I love her immediate betrayal of Dante once she realizes that Dante is just using her, I adore her and Envy’s petty bickering. She gets so much depth by being formerly human and being linked to Ishval.
Speaking of Winry: Roy killing Winry’s parents is just. So much better. I love how it immediately breaks Winry’s faith in the government entirely, I love how much it really and truly shows how the Amestrian military is evil. I love how it really creates this moment of weakness and vulnerability in Roy, which he doesn’t get nearly as much in the other show! Roy’s too cool in Brotherhood! I love how young, sad and pathetic he is when he kills the Rockbells, it really sells the horrors of war much better.
I really like getting to see Ed and El’s counterparts across all of the side characters: the characters that only show up for one or two episodes: everybody is brothers. Everybody is consumed by this burning posessive love. But nobody goes as far as Ed and Al are willing to. I love how they are confronted with their mistakes and failures everywhere they go! It really sets the tone of horror. It really sells Ed and Al as the protagonists of a dramatic tragedy. They made the mistake, and they will make it again, in the name of love!
A small thing: but I love that Izumi and Ed disagree with what the Gate is? I love that Ed thinks of the Gate as Truth. And Izumi doesn’t! Izumi simply thinks it is a horror. Izumi thinks that what insight the gate gave her was not truth but something else, and I agree with her. I love the idea that Ed’s conception of reality is based on him being Mr. Edgy Angsty Atheist! I love that the gate is silent in 2003, I like that there are very little answers. And I agree with Izumi! The answer to the question: what lies behind the ultimate taboo of science is NOT truth!! It doesn’t quite make sense!
Relatedly, I love that Ed learns all of his horrible communication skills and bottling everything up coping mechanisms from Izumi. They make all the same mistakes all the time! Izumi always takes everything on her shoulders even though she has help, as does Ed. Izumi never communicates her love and appreciation for the people around her, letting her actions do the speaking, as does Ed. They are terrible mirrors of each other, and I LOVE IT SO MUCH.
I like that Armstrong is not comic relief? He puts on ‘Mr Muscle Man’ as a facade about three times in 2003, and every single time, it’s a distraction, it’s supposed to make people look elsewhere. Most of the time in 2003, he’s incredibly solemn and serious, as he tries to endure doing the wrong thing in the name of duty. I love that he’s still suffering the consequences of being too kind in Ishval.
I like that Mustang, Hawkeye and all our favourite main characters put Ishvalans in trains and take them off to concentration camps. It’s not very subtle with its metaphor, but it shouldn’t be. If anything, Brotherhood deeply de-emphasizes the horrendous nature of the genocidal play of the army and the constant violence they partake in. Roy and his people are so heroic in Brotherhood, and I really like how much they are complicit. How much they are ultimately soldiers who are ‘just following orders’ in a genocidal regime.
I like that they don’t turn to act for the side of good until the very end of the show. I think it highlights the stakes a bit more. I like that the show makes us doubt Roy for a lot longer before finally giving Ed hope! It’s far more cathartic!
I like that Paninya ISN’T ACTUALLY A THIEF???? I like that Paninya is just a gal who wants to make her adoptive dad proud and she steals Ed’s pocketwatch not for Winry to teach her a lesson about how ‘stealing is bad’ but that Ed gets the lesson that he’s not the only one that makes automail work for him! I love that Ed loses actually in 2003!
I really enjoy Fletcher and Russell. Fletcher especially is my good boy. He and Al should hang out more :)
I really like that Kimblee starts out as a fugitive in 2003! There is something so slimey in Brotherhood where the army just immediately takes him out of jail to track the Elric brothers: it definitely shows just how evil the Amestrian army is, but I think I prefer him being a traitor to Greed’s gang! I love how much more personal Martel makes her fury with him! I like how it takes a while for the military to take him back in here, mostly because it allows for Archer to be a character instead.
I think Archer being a character makes Kimblee more effective: Kimblee is not Ed’s enemy. He’s Scar’s enemy. And I LOVE that in 2003.
Archer’s initial attempt to do the right thing instantly being overtaken by craven greed is also a really fun arc! I just enjoy more military characters getting to be pieces of shit.
Scar gets to interact with more Ishvalan characters because he’s not tied down by far too large an entourage cast, and as a result, he is just. SO much better. I love that he and his mentor fight and talk and he ties himself to the refugees of Ishval in a way he doesn’t quite get to in Brotherhood. I LOVE his determination to make a Philosopher’s Stone out of the military’s lives. I love that he has no hesitation about it either. This is praxis!
I love that Ishvalan people’s legacy is alchemy too! I like that alchemy is the lost art, the old art, and not something that missed Ishvalans by entirely! Although I do like that Scar’s brother in Brotherhood is trying to combine alchemy and alkahestry, I LOVE that 2003 is simply him going back to Ishval’s ancient history. It makes the science metaphor more interesting, especially when you see that apparently the ancient Ishavalsn found out how to make a Philosopher’s Stone and then rejected it and alchemy entirely as a result. I think it’s really interesting worldbuilding!
I love that whole sequence where Ed kind of makes Wrath’s hatred of him worse? I love how mean and obsessive Ed can be in the show sometimes, I love how flawed and interesting he is. He really feels like a teenager lashing out against the cruel world, and it emphasizes the tragedy of it all.
I love that Hohenheim’s immortality is NOT an accident. I like that he actively did evil things to gain immortality and I like that now his is a story of regret! I think it makes Hohenheim so much more compelling when he is a man seeking repetence for an actual sin instead of being tricked? I think it’s more compelling that he has the same sins as his sons. I like that he was the first to do human transmutation and the first to make a Philosopher’s stone, and that these are Ed and Al’s legacy?? It’s so interesting and fun!
The slow pacing really allows for the tragedy to actually build! I love how slow yet purposeful all the episodes are! The only truly filler episodes are the weird episode about the sexy female thief that keeps tricking Al because Al is too horny/naive, and the Mustang Team’s side adventures. Every other filler episode is doing important work for building the themes of the show! And even the two filler episodes are doing importent things re: characterization!
Shou Tucker is such a CREEPY minor villain that is used to perfection in 2003. I love how he keeps showing up, I love how awful he is, and I love how much more significant he and Nina are to 2003, because Ed and Al spend four episodes with them instead of their story being wham-blam-ka-blam like it is in Brotherhood, where everything with them happens in 1 episode.
Laboratory Five is SO MUCH MORE DEVASTATING as a dramatic tension point for Ed! I love how much more evil it is! I love how much more hopeless the situation is. I LOVE the dramatic irony of Ed almost killing hundreds of people because he believed Shou Tucker, despite everything. It’s so good. It makes Brotherhood’s Lab Five Arc pale in comparison.
Hot Take: I kind of love that Ed goes to Nazi Germany by going through the Gate xD They don’t spend nearly enough time on it, but I kind of adore it anyway. FMA 2003 said subtlety is for cowards, and they were CORRECT!
Things I think weren’t as good but still interesting
Brotherhood really went off with making the homunculus the root of the nation-state of Amestris. I love that in Brotherhood, the state was founded for the explicit purpose of genocidal violence, and the homunuculus as simply the underside of the genocidal turn, the secret police that make the state violence seem legitimate. The hazy relationship between the military/state and the homunuculus muddies the otherwise clear message that 2003 is going for re: state violence and the role of science in perpetrating/continuing violence.
Dante’s bad. Not that Father is GOOD, not in any way, but Dante’s plan is very stupid and is very underexplained. Why do Trisha and Bradley still follow Dante when she clearly reveals she’s just using them to prolong her own life and has no intention of making them human? Why do they not immediately just turn traitor like Lust does--the show never builds any real loyalty between Dante and the other homunculi, which makes for a rushed climax, alas. (I do LOVE her and Hohenheim’s bodies physically rotting, that’s some really fun body horror! And I can’t help it, I love exes who were evil scientists and one continued to be evil, and one repented. It’s a fun trope and it was DEEPLY underutilized, alas)
I’m sad Scar died! 2003 obviously has an incredibly high body count and I defend all of them, but Scar dying is just kinda sad! I like that he has to live with himself in Brotherhood and make Ishval again.
Greed doesn’t get to do much at all, and his weird acceptance of his own death is VERY strange compared to his own acceptance of being a man so greedy that he wants everything. Although I ended up liking his role as Ed’s first murder, I think Greedling is SUCH a highlight of Brotherhood, that its absence felt jarring.
May Chang and Ling are such good characters, and I miss Xing! I think I really end up liking 2003′s laser focus on Ishval more, in the end, I think it does a better job of focusing on genocide and racial violence as the catalyst for the state’s and science’s expansion. But May and Ling are such lovely characters and I missed them.
Al’s angst about maybe not being a real person goes on for SO LONG. I forgot it’s like a full four episodes! It’s the one emotional stake that doesn’t quite feel as impactful as the rest of the show.
Sloth-Trisha had so much potential that was squandered, I loved when she finally became a fighting antagonist, but I wish they’d spent more time on Ed and Al arguing about her and what to do with her/what she means. I mean, it tracks with them both: that Al instantly goes ‘oh, homunculi are remnants of human transormati--OMIGOD MOM’S OUT THERE’ and Ed’s like ‘i refuse to think about this until the last possible minute’ it’s very in character, but it means they never get to really fight about killing Sloth-Trisha, which is a shame!
#fullmetal alchemist#fma#i have way too many opinions#haha#these are all deeply personal and subjective of course#if you like brotherhood more still YOU ARE SO VALID#there's a lot to love about brotherhood!#but i have such ADORATION in my heart for 2003 and what 2003 angrily says#i think ultimately 2003 is just a genre i enjoy more#2003 is a dramatic tragedy and a horror anime while also following some shonen tropes#while brotherhood is just full on shonen#and brotherhood is good shonen!! but i just enjoy horror and tragedy so so much more#which is why i have such deep love in my heart for 2003
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