#and the fandoms often call them arrogant / self-righteous

[karaspal]

it’s always gorgeous reporters with cunty outfits and glasses that settle for a white big-foreheaded bitch that doesn’t take into consideration their feelings. jay nakamura, i’ve seen this story before. you will find a beautiful brown man who also happens to be a journalist, who understands you, has the same music taste when it comes to karaoke as you, and suddenly picks up baking after your parent passed away to make sure you’re eating TRUST!

[honeycreammilkshake]

That popular Twitter account (Goj over) saying REST IN HELL SUKUNA getting a lot of support, while that same person wanted kenjaku to come back...what's with the double standards? Kenjaku hurt women and children in the most twisted way yet he deserves to live? At this point, just bring gojo AND Kenjaku and have Kenjaku kill gojo in the most awful possible, watch them change their tune

Sorry for the rant lol

Don't worry about ranting at all! I understand how you feel completely.

When I was first getting into the JJK fandom, it was mostly because of Sukuna edits. I liked his character from the very start, even though people were really quick to call Sukuna fans (especially the Sukuita shipping ones) delusional or toxic. And a lot of Gojo fans would overrun the comment sections, saying that Gojo is better than Sukuna in every way.

When I watched videos analyzing Sukuna's character, for example, a lot of the responses to the videos would be something along the lines of "Sukuna is straight-up pure evil and can't be seen as any other way." And after Gojo's death, so many people were showing Sukuna hate more than ever.

What I find bothering about this, though, isn't that most of the JJK fandom likes Gojo way more than any other character - what I truly dislike is how disrespectful and contradicting some of those Gojo fans can be. I have read so many posts made by them that insult Gege, mock Sukuna fans, and insist that the only way for JJK to "redeem" itself is for Gojo to come back.

While I try to have a healthy respect for everyone in a fandom, I don't like when certain fans go out of their way to be toxic, rude, or forceful with their opinions. Especially when they don't seem to have such a good grasp on a lot of the reasons why Gojo isn't that great - not morally and not as an overall character.

Fans often neglect that Gojo is mean to others, selfish, arrogant, self-righteous, disrespectful to all kinds of people, too immature at times, and willing to disregard the value of other people's lives, including his own students. He has put Yuuji and the others in danger so many times, without any real good reason why, and he shows off more than he does teach.

I don't mean to disrespect his character at all, but these are his actual canon traits. Even if the fans like to headcanon him differently (which I respect) they can't use those arguments when comparing him to Sukuna, who they always characterize as selfish, arrogant, disrespectful, and dismissive of the value of other people's lives.... sound familiar?

Sukuna and Gojo share a lot of these negative traits in common. Both of them are obsessed with their own strength and so easily disvalue others for not beings as powerful. Yes, Sukuna is by far the most murderous and stereotypically evil of the two, and I would describe most of his actions as heartless and cruel, but Gojo's own bad traits can't simply be dismissed just because those fans like him better and because he's fighting on the side of "good."

He's been described as an antihero for a reason, and that's because he's self-absorbed and doesn't really care for anyone but himself. He wants to take down the higher-ups of the Jujutsu world, but doesn't really acknowledge how he himself being born to such intense power is also a curse of that system. He is part of the problem, both with his actions and ideals, and fans don't want to acknowledge it.

I think they're scared that by admitting his faults he automatically becomes a character you have no right to like anymore, just like how Sukuna antis say because of Sukuna's evil actions he doesn't deserve to be empathized with or liked. This inaccurate line of thinking comes mostly from the large anti culture that's been taking over tumblr and pretty much everywhere else now.

I would also like to point out that so many fans are really angry about Gojo dying, but his death actually makes sense in the story and he himself looked quite at peace with it. Bringing him back doesn't really make any sense.

I like Gojo. Even if I don't find his character unique, I still think he serves a purpose in the story and I like what Gege has done with him. Him losing to Sukuna was meant to happen. For me, the end battle should be between Sukuna and Yuuji, because Yuuji alone has the strongest connection with the King of Curses and this whole story started with him swallowing that cursed finger. Gojo really shouldn't have anything to do with this.

But these are just my thoughts. People are more than free to disagree with me, that's what being in a fandom means, but they should show respect about this and not act so overwhelmingly toxic to others who think differently. That's my only problem with them.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me!

[softlywithhissong]

I’m calling bullshit on your hate.

STOP STEREOTYPING SANGWOO FANS!

I am a Sangwoo fan. I am also a Bum fan. A strange dichotomy, I know.

Both of these characters exhibit problematic behavior, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be a fan of them, either individually or simultaneously. Does being a fan of either of these characters mean that you support these damaging behaviors in real life? NO. Calling out people who support REAL LIFE crimes is fine, but calling out people who are trying to enjoy being a fan of a FICTIONAL character IS NOT OKAY. You are clearly not helping real life people by doing so. You are being judgemental and self-righteous, shaming people to feel superior and patting yourself on the back for it. You not only contradict yourself several times, but you also act entitled to hate real people for liking something you personally don’t, have the arrogance to proclaim what the author “better not” do, and wish ill on real people. The hypocrisy is appalling. Do you not see the irony? You are not protecting people from real life abuse BY HATING ON REAL LIFE FANS of a fictional character. You are in fact engaging in verbally abusing real life people. It doesn’t matter what the character does; it’s fiction. Are there real people existing out in the big wide world who do crimes or support criminals? Yes, but to generalize, stereotype, and basically accuse FANS of being as bad as the people who do this or to conflate us and lump us together is disgusting, illogical, and highly offensive.

How can we “still stan his ass / this ship”? We can because the beauty of fandom is that you get to pick and choose what you like. You get to twist it up, turn it inside out, and make it into an AU parody of itself. ART IS SUBJECTIVE. It’s about what individual thing each and every one of us found gut wrenching or what pulled at our heartstrings. Don’t invalidate what other people found or resonated with just because it’s not the same thing you did. People fear different things. People emphasize, magnify, and conversely minimize different things based on what concerns each of us individually. That’s okay and people shouldn’t be shamed for having a different opinion. After all, being a fan is a form of opinion. And opinions are not facts. Don’t confuse the two; you holding an opinion does not make your opinion a fact.

Fiction is about emotional catharsis. It doesn’t matter that stealing a car or killing a dog are not crimes worthy of the death penalty in real life - I wanted to see John Wick kill all those fuckers for killing that little puppy.

And NOT ALL MEDIA should have a healthy or happy ending. Was Romeo and Juliet’s double suicide a healthy ending? NO. It was a tragedy! Tragedies have an important place in media. They often serve as cautionary tales. If you want another cliched boring “bad guy dies/goes to jail” ending, WHY ARE YOU SHAMING FANS WHO WANT SOMETHING DIFFERENT? You have an endless supply of your preferred ending. Go watch one of the thousand CSI/detective/cop procedural shows. They are everywhere. While I enjoy psychological thrillers (AS RARE AS THEY ARE), I am also a fan of some great detective shows and murder mysteries. I could recommend so many fantastic ones. But some of us want a unique ending for Killing Stalking, even if that means something “unhealthy” by real life moral standards. It was labeled a psychological thriller, after all. Not a mystery. Not a detective story. It was also labeled BL, and even if it gets a twisted/unhealthy ending because of the psychological thriller genre, it still qualifies because twisted BL is still BL.

I do not excuse Sangwoo’s abusive treatment of Bum. I’m often disappointed and angry on Bum’s behalf. And while I find it difficult to believe canon Bum would be in a healthy relationship with anyone (and I would love to make a post about how I see his fondness for frogs as symbolism for his relationships), I still have the ability to enjoy the possibilities of a healthy fanon-based relationship or even appreciate the grim take of a tragic and/or twisted unhealthy ending. This is how I still ship Sangbum in certain contexts, but not always, because context matters and it depends. I know that sentence sounds ridiculous, but that’s how it works! Because it’s OKAY TO SHIP FICTIONAL UNHEALTHY SHIPS. Because it’s fiction. And if people can vent their issues through the written word in order to not do so in real life, good. Many people find reading/writing therapeutic. Some authors write a lot of problematic behavior as angst. Do they deserve hate? NO. There are plenty of instances when I have shipped a healthy ship but not shipped it (and in fact wanted them not to end up together) in certain fics because I felt the fic had portrayed an unhealthy relationship. But did I send hate to the author of that fic when that ship ended up together anyway? NO. Just because it ended in a way I didn’t like didn’t give me or anyone else the right to spread hate or shame over a fictional story.

Also, as a Bum fan, I do not appreciate seeing any victim blaming of Bum. There’s some out there (including your despicable “Bum better not” comment), but at least this hate is not anywhere near the amount of Sangwoo hate. As a fan of both characters, I can see that there is clearly so much more Sangwoo hate out there. And it’s fine to criticize, dislike, or even hate Sangwoo as a character, but it’s NOT OKAY to hate on his fans. He is a fictional character, but his fans are real people.

I am a fan of Sangwoo because he is an intriguing, complex, and well-written character. He’s got flaws. All characters do. And I understand his flaws are pretty damn big. But I understand that he’s a fictional character. I would never support a real person committing such crimes or abuse. So, frankly, while you may find my being a fan “annoying” - I will not be shamed or hated upon.

To quote my sister, “In the safety of fiction, we can deconstruct the complexities of what’s morally gray.”

In other words, exploration through FICTION, discussion, and debate are welcome. Hateful posts are not.

This is a long post, so I’ll put my further calling bullshit on arguments made by haters behind a “Keep Reading” link:

Also, the criticisms for being a fan because of “fetishizing gay men” are bullshit. Firstly, anything anyone finds hot could be labeled “fetishizing” which is ridiculous. Secondly, some fans are gay men who are not “fetishizing” - they are simply enjoying the story even if it is twisted. (It’s okay to be a fan of a story that portrays an unhealthy relationship; not every story is meant to be a moral standard.) But also, this bullshit argument is just reducing people down to a ridiculous stereotype used to stifle women in fandom. This has been used through the ages and it is wrong. Are there possibly straight women out there objectifying gay men the way straight men would objectify gay women? Yeah, there’s probably some. But I’ve been in fandom a LONG time and this is not representative of fans in general, let alone all female fans. How about you let women consume all forms of media they find identifiable, cathartic, containing unique storyline with complex flawed characters, or even (gasp) entertaining? Stop shaming people. And maybe especially - don’t resort to misogynistic tropes to do so. I think it’s safe to say that fans (including female fans) generally tend to be a fan for more than just a character’s appearance and body parts. There’s usually character traits, personality quirks, things that draw you to go beyond casual reading/watching into becoming a fan.

Personally, I identify with stories portraying gay relationships equally as much if not more than with stories portraying heterosexual relationships. Maybe that’s because I’m bisexual, but I don’t think so. I believe that straight people can also find themselves identifying with the story and the struggles portrayed - no matter what the sexual orientation of the pairing portrayed.

You think I only like portrayals of gay men rather than women? No, I like both. Killing Eve is a fantastic example of a fandom that I would love to see grow! I despair at how small the fandom is compared to my usual fandoms, but it’s new! It can grow and I can’t wait for season 2. The harsh reality, though, is that f/f ships tend to be smaller fandoms. This may be due to so few well-written female characters in general throughout media - though, this is improving and having more female writers in media helps. Killing Eve has great characters and really great writing, so hopefully they can buck this trend and grow a decently large fandom featuring f/f ships. Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe from Legends of Tomorrow are a pretty big ship, which is heartening, and Xena/Gabrielle from Xena Warrior Princess were an absolute juggernaut back in the day (kudos to anyone who recognized Xena from my main tumblr’s icon).

You think I only like hot men? Or that I excuse the actions of killers who are hot men? NO. I watched The Fall with Gillian Anderson and Jamie Dornan, where Jamie Dornan played the serial killer and NO - I was not a fan of his character, let alone attempted to excuse any actions by his character whatsoever, even after they explained his tragic backstory. And You on Netflix is just too obnoxious in my personal opinion for me to even watch. But I’d never take time out of my day to hate on any fan who enjoys it.

Calling out problematic stuff in media is fine, but don’t use it as an excuse to spit vitriol and hate at fans who you disagree with.

P.S. Seriously, ask me for recs of good detective shows/murder mysteries. I’ve got so many I could recommend that are way better written than most. Want a female detective? I’ve got plenty. Want a gay male detective? Got it. Want a murder mystery twist where the murderer wins? Got that.

[drqueenb]

Teamwork makes the dream work

As a partner, I often feel that I fail the team that we created my girldfriend and I a few years ago now. Often is perhaps an exaggeration, as the nuanced and accepting person that she is would point out. But she cannot deny that it has happened a number of times lately. At least, enough times for me to notice this pattern of mine, one that sees me claiming the team with my words only to let it down with my actions a moment after. I strongly believe in this notion of team. And I even more strongly believe in our team. So much so that I commit all my energy to satisfying some of its structural projects. This looks good on the paper; but in real life, this means that the idea of the team takes over the reality of my partner’s needs or feelings and that of our relationship. As if, through my stubborn actions and their underlying what-is-good-for-the-team self-righteousness, I worshipped the idea of the team more than actually serving its reality. In other words, I (so called) sacrifice so much for the team that I take over and become the team on my own, discarding my partner’s further inputs after we collectively decided on a goal to achieve. There is this urge in me to please her, to provide for her in the most perfected and easy way. This means that I actually stop listening after the uttering of the (common) wish. I blindy set out on a ride-or-die mission and lose any flexibility, softness or kindness. Any further specification she may ask or offer, I take them as attacks on or pickiness oblivious to the grand and personal project that has become this mission. I am rooted in the desire to achieve on my own, because that is how I love: I sulkingly build an egotical shrine to my beloved; loving can only mean knowing better, the perfection of it allowing for its legitimate force-feeding. Any refusal of the method or request for modification is considered an ungrateful by ignorance type of rejection. Let me love you the way I say is the right way. Do not interfere with my loving. I love our team enough for the both of us. As a matter of fact, you don’t know how to properly love the team. I will take it upon me to do it for the two of us, do not worry. How arrogant and self-centered is my apparently devotional way of loving. Fake martyrdom; righteous fandom. Being alone together; feeling lonely while constantly thinking of the other; living on one’s own with the other by your side. And repeating the word “team” while in fact acting on one’s own. Performing teamwork requires, instead, to let go of the idea that there is only one way of loving (yours), and that the other one cannot know better (than you). Rather, none knows better because being a team means that we can only know better together. Any other way and there is no point to the (us-)story. My aggressive and competitive way of loving needs to vanish; instead, a compromising, communal and kind way of loving will emerge. Little by little. Perhaps should I start with myself already...Not the easiest but it would undeniably set the tone for my teaming up with the rest of the world, and in particular within that little and magnificent small one I have created with my partner. Hand in hand, face to face, embracing our differences to brace ourselves against the larger one. And live the dream that is already here and that is us.

[nxtherold]

Daughter of Darkness

CHAPTER I : THE ANGEL IS A DEVIL

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Full work can be found here. Chapter: 1/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Genre: Angst, Drama, Suspense, Action/Adventure, Romance, Canon Rewrite Chapter Summary:

          Daeris Urzara is one of the Dark Brotherhood's top assassins, owed to her powers as a demiprince and rigorous training that started from birth. She grew up in the organization's base in the Imperial City, but upon Molag Bal's attack on the city, she was temporarily transferred to the Gold Coast as Brotherhood functions in the area ceased in order to keep the daedra from finding and destroying the Sanctuary. 

          Her new home is not without it's issues. A predatory force in service to the Order of the Hour, a rather devout cult of Akatosh worshippers, hunts down and slaughters members of the Dark Brotherhood in Kvatch and Anvil. Daeris has made it her goal to put an end to this self-righteous slayer; her own survival quite literally depends on it. Coming face to face with the killer of killers, an apex predator will emerge, and Daeris's future will take an uncertain turn. But first she has to find this assassin-hunter, and information can come from the most unlikely of sources...for a steep price.

            "I recognize in thieves, traitors and murderers, in the ruthless and the cunning, a deep beauty - a sunken beauty."                         -Jean Genet

           The gravity of the situation began to sink in when she heard Mirabelle crying for Cimbar. It was uncomfortable for many reasons beyond normal human cirmunstance, complicated by their status as assassins. It's not that Mirabelle and Cimbar's relationship was disallowed or discouraged, but it was well understood that everyone should be prepared for loss at any time. When you danced with death on a daily basis, you had to acknowledge that one day it might decide to claim you instead of your target. Everyone was always ready to lose, to mourn briefly then go about their duties for the good of the family, but Cimbar's death and Mirabelle's weeping brought everything to a halt.

          Time froze and confounded the assassins. The unforgiving air twisted around them like razors, scraping them raw and revealing what was left of the humanity they were meant to bury. Even Daeris, who'd only been with this Sanctuary for a couple of weeks, felt the sting. Daeris had never had the unfortunate experience of losing someone close to her before, but it was as if the pain that radiated from her fellow assassin seeped into her skin and forced her to feel the loss. It was made worse by her fondness for Mirabelle. The Breton was a kindred spirit, and her demeanor was a light for the Sanctuary. That light was now drowned in tears, and Daeris could only hope that it would shine again one day.

          Eventually, however, life had to continue. Daeris occupied herself with minor contracts for the next few weeks, as most others did as well. The tension in the Sanctuary had only begun to settle when a more prestigious job came her way. The Pirate Queen and current Governor of Anvil, Fortunata ap Dugal, decided to enlist an assassin from the Dark Brotherhood in a political maneuver. Daeris was the lucky woman chosen for the job. Fortunata's request was brazen, but Daeris admittedly found it entertaining. Kill Commander Scipio, then break into the Count of Kvatch's estate and use news of the murder to give him a nice spook. Breaking into a militant castle was perilous and would unnerve even a hardened assassin, but Daeris was rightfully confident in her mastery of the shadows and too cocky to think twice about it. She wasn't a fool nor was she unprepared, but a task like this required far less preparation for her than it would for anyone else. She had the luxury of having everything she needed at the tips of her fingers.

          The shadows were her friend in a way they could be no other. Her unique parentage allowed her pull them to her will, shifting through the many possibilities to manipulate the world. Shadows were more than darkness. They were reflections of every possible state of being, and one with the ability to shift through these realities could do many things. You could hide yourself from sight, unlock a locked door, or allow a deadly blade to pass through you as if you weren't even there among other things. It was the perfect magic for an assassin, and admittedly often made her more cocky than she should be. Her arrogance hadn't gotten her killed yet, so she saw no reason to cast it aside.

          Maneuvering through Castle Kvatch was more of a challenge due to its size. The place was a maze stuffed with people and little room for an uninvited presence to explore. It must have taken her well over an hour to find the count's room. Finally, she found her long-sought door and held her palm over the lock to twist the shadows around it. There were several locks, as she discovered, so shifting through to unlock all of them put her in a precarious position. Altering the locks while also maintaining her invisibility could take too much time, so all of her effort was put into the former. The door would open more swiftly, yes, but she risked being seen. Count Carolus was well aware of Fortunata's thirst for power and undoubtedly increased security to thwart hired invaders like Daeris. Patrols would pass the area more often, and the count himself would be quick to notice things out of the ordinary.

          Daeris's ethereal lockpicking halted as a quiet noise from inside the room drew her attention. It was a mundane little chant, not completely audible and worth overlooking. The words tickled her ears and begged her to listen to them, and soon she recognized what was being said. But what she heard was not meant to come from the lips of someone so strung with their own uptight honor. They were the words of murderers without a blade in their hand, of people who would kiss death to have it greet another.

           The distant plop of armored feet upon the stone sent Daeris back to work. She cared no longer for mystique upon her entry and rushed through the door to confirm her suspicions. She closed it quickly behind her and tiptoed around the corner to find the source of the chanting. If she were not accustomed to such a grisly sight, the view would have shaken her to the bone. This view was in fact common for Daeris to see, though the person involved was a gargantuan surprise. The count kneeled in a circle of candles and scattered nightshade, stabbing an effigy of skull, bone, flesh, and a heart with a dagger.

          He was performing the Black Sacrament, the macabre ritual meant to summon assassins of the Dark Brotherhood like Daeris herself.

          "It worked? Of course it did. You're here," the count said as he rose from the ritual circle to face the assassin. His voice quaked as he spoke as if it was difficult to carry to weight of his own words. Daeris could read the deperation in his eyes. No, Carolus, there was no turning back. Not from this. "I've been performing this damned ritual night after night. I wouldn't, but she must be stopped. Fortunata is going to bring ruin to the Gold Coast and its people!"

          "An eager fellow, aren't you? Just so happy for an assassin to grant your wish and rid you of your problems. Unfortunately, your ritual is not why I'm here. I'm here on behalf of another," Daeris tugged at her cowl, shifting it atop her head. "Fortunata, in fact. Don't worry, Carolus, it's not your head she wanted, but you'll need to find a new commander. Scipio won't be showing up for work tomorrow."

          "Commander Scipio is dead!?" Count Carolus mewled, his voice lowering to a growl. "Of course. As if any other maneuver could be as insulting as it is damaging. This is exactly why she needs to die. So, you may not have come here because of my ritual, but I performed it nonetheless, and I want to do business."

          "That's not part of my job description," Daeris raised a hand in interjection. "Look, I'm an assassin, not a negotiator. I don't make the contracts, I just put a blade in whoever I'm told to, and there's a lot of things that need to happen before I stick my blade in anyone at your request."

          "Then take my request to your superiors. I assure you I have an abundance of gold to repay your organization with. I also have something I feel your organization would value even more: information about the one attacking your assassins."

          Daeris narrowed her eyes at the count, her lips pulling into a frown beneath her mask. "Having that kind of information insinuates a connection to the murderer that you don't want to have when we destroy them and anyone who's ever aided them, Count Carolus. I hope for your sake that your information comes from secondary sources and not direct involvement."

          "I assure you, handing you this operative is no skin off my back. If this is what it takes to put an end to Fortunata, then I'll tell you everything you need to know."

          Before Daeris could respond, she noticed the count's attention flick from her to a presence behind her. She turned, seeing Speaker Terenus behind her, likely there to answer the call of the Black Sacrament. Beneath his wide hood she could see the ghost of amusement on his face, the corners of his lips pulling into a smile. The unusual circumstances seemed to excite him. Or was it the prize the count offered that plucked at the speaker’s sinister heart? A chance to seek revenge was likely not something the Black Hand would want to turn down.

          "I take it you heard?" Daeris said to her superior and gestured towards the count.

          "I did indeed," Terenus responded. "There has been a unique turn of events, it seems. You are here on behalf of Governor Fortunata, true, but you have fulfilled all facets of your contract for her. You are in the perfect position to enact this new one."

          "This is weird," Daeris shrugged. "But I can't say that it doesn't make sense."

          The speaker nodded. "The Sacrament has been performed, and Fortunata's soul is now owed to Sithis. We shall not deny him. The sooner the Pirate Queen falls, the better. Go back to Anvil, assassin. You’ll find a familiar face there ready to render you aid. I will discuss payment with our count here."

          "The dear governor will not survive the evening, speaker," Daeris flourished a bow. She couldn’t help the grin that formed from her lips. Unusual circumstances during contracts tended to be fun and gave her a chance to be creative with how she handled things. Well, they were fun most of the time. Sometimes they involved wading through sewers and praying that she wouldn’t have to touch the muck. The most tantalizing thing about this contract was not the unique circumstances surrounding it, but rather the reward.

          Finding the bastard hunting her family was worth any trial she could face.

            The journey from Kvatch to Anvil took only a few hours thanks to the cities' close proximity. By the time Daeris passed through the walls of the port city, the sky had turned a burnt orange hue and the sun steadily approached the horizen. The sunbleached cobblestone of the bridge to Anvil castle was washed in pale terracotta gloss reflected from the warm sky. The sea sparkled endlessly in a span that had no end. Somewhere across those diamond waves were Hammerfell, Auridon, and Malabal Tor, but you wouldn't know it at a glance. The line where the sea met the sky was a beautiful end for the world, and you could pretend it was so if you didn't know better. Whatever those foreign lands offered paled in comparison to the beautiful ultimatum of the horizen. Who would dare cross it? All Daeris could do was stare at it from the coast. There was a wide world out there, but it was a hard one to reach for. Here was comfort, beauty and family. Beyond the sea, nothing was guaranteed.

          Perhaps that's what intrigued her most. She'd lived her entire life in Cyrodiil; she'd been around the entire country enough times to know every road and every sight worth seeing. A worthy adventure in her homeland was becoming a rare thing. Her work with the Dark Brotherhood was entertaining, but it was routine. Twenty-three years of daily adventures tended to dull the experience. She was complacent with her lot in life. It was all she knew. Ironically, she felt most safe as an assassin. The idea of being something else was impossible. Take a contract. Knife a target. Spend her pay on something to kill the guilt. Find a new lover for the week in a new town. Come back to the Sanctuary when she starts to feel too alone and get in trouble for being gone for longer than her contract required of her. Rinse and repeat. It was a cycle so routine she no longer put much thought into it, no different from washing her hair. A life full of thrills and new experiences was not meant to become so monotonous.

          The arch of the bridge provided decent shade from the heat of the sun. There was just enough land underneath for her to find a place to sit, her boots barely out of the water's reach. Her contact would arrive soon, and then they could come up with a plan to take out Fortunata. The patter of thick wings caught her attention, and she looked to her right to see a jet-black raven land in the grass. It cocked its head at her knowingly, and she heaved an annoyed sigh. Now was not the time for this.

          "Look, I can't talk right now. I'm in the middle of a very critical situation and I'm waiting for a contact," Daeris spoke to the raven, who was unabashed by her dismissive tone. It was used to her morphing temperament by now. Her teenage years were far worse, honestly. She'd even swatted it a few times. "Tell her that I'm fine, and I will talk to her when I have the time. I don't have the materials for a summoning right now, so if it is that important, tell her to come to me herself for fuck's sake."

          The raven sighed and took flight, disappearing in a small puff of indigo smoke and feathers. Daeris waved away the tufts that wafted towards her face, her nose no longer bothered by the burnt scent that accompanied these shifts through the planes after years of being exposed to it. She was prepared to drift back into her daydreaming when she felt a chill creep up her spine. The feeling jolted through her nerves like tender electricity. It was the sensation of an invisible hand at the back of her neck, begging for her to see what gripped her. These were not physical reactions to anything that was happening, but rather the warning of her instincts telling her that something was not right. That there was something her body could sense but her eyes could not see. That she was not alone.

          Daeris slipped the small knife from its pouch on her thigh as smoothly as an arm could slip through a silk sleeve. At an instance it was a breadth away from the throat of the one that approached her from her left while her back was turned. Her head turned to see who was there, her eyes meeting the mysterious face little more than a second after her blade was positioned to protect her from the potential threat. It was something that took years to master, though any good assassin would take the time to ingrain the habit into their system. An attacker will strike prematurely the moment they know they've been spotted. The clearest sign of that is, of course, if their target looks directly at them, so throwing up a blade before they know they've been noticed can throw off an attack pattern. A cerebral move, and second nature to Daeris at this point; the split-second difference having saved her life more than once. So, who was it that decided to sneak up on a Dark Brotherhood assassin?

          "Nice reflexes," Mirabelle hummed. The knife at her throat did not faze her. They were family, after all, so there was no real threat to her life. Mirabelle was crouched behind Daeris, the skirt of her short Cyrodiilic tunic balled up into her hand to keep it from being stained by the grass and mud. "I've been looking for you forever. You could have picked a better place to hide than under the bridge."

          "You scared the shit out of me," Daeris laughed, placing a relieved hand to her chest as she put away her knife. "Sneaking up on your fellow Brothers and Sisters is probably not the best idea when there's someone actually hunting us."

          "You wouldn't have stabbed me. Now, if it was Brema, I might have called out from a distance because of her fondness for fireballs, but you're less prone to rashness and accidental stabbings, darling," Mirabelle mused, adjusting her feet to rest more comfortably in her sandals. That particular kind of footwear was not good for standing on a small slope, as Daeris noticed from her shifting feet. "It's only a matter of time before I slip into the ocean, so let's hurry up and talk. Matron Astara said to meet you at the castle immediately, but I didn't get much of an explanation. Care to enlighten me?"

          "There's been an....unusual contract made. I'll tell you the full story back at the Sanctuary," Daeris lowered her voice to a whisper. There wasn't anyone passing the bridge at the moment, but it was better to be safe than sorry. "We're taking out Fortunata. Tonight."

          Mirabelle's eyes widened in surprise, the first glimmer of light Daeris had seen in her eyes since Cimbar died. "Really? We're offing the pirate bitch tonight? Is it my birthday?"

          "Would be a nice birthday gift, wouldn't it? Getting to depose a tyrannical ruler and having a toast as her head rolls? I feel like a revolutionary."

          "Oh, don't worry, darling. I'm sure another pretentious grabber will take her place. The chaos will be nice for a while, though," Mirabelle looked away for a moment in thought. As if an idea had struck her, she reached into the folds of her dress and pulled a small vial of clear liquid from a hidden space between two seams. "Speaking of a toast, that might be the best way to bid her a nice farewell. Fortunata is a big fan of wine, and I happen to have this nice little vial of poison on my person at the moment."

          Daeris's glossed lips curled into a sinister grin. "My hero," she snickered. "But wouldn't you be better at that, since you're a trusted servant and have access?"

          "This is your contract, darling. I'm not cruel enough to steal your glory. Besides, I'll be needed here even after Fortunata is gone to keep an eye on the fool who takes her place. If the guards investigate her death and find she was poisoned, it wouldn't look good on me for being the last person in her stores," Mirabelle shook her head."I'll bring her the wine, but I'll have the other servants see me so there's no gap of time in which I could have done the act. You're the one that has to do the actual poisoning, making sure the drink has been tampered with long before I come around. If there is an investigation, suspicious eyes will not be on me."

          "I understand," Daeris shrugged. "Surely there's some guidance you can offer me, then? The castle looks huge. I don't want to be wandering around it forever."

          "I wouldn't leave you with nothing," Mirabelle tisked and waved her index finger pointedly at Daeris. "I know every secret about Fortunata and Anvil Castle. I know that there's a secret tunnel network built into the castle since its founding, but I also know that Fortunata had her own separate network installed in the foundations to cover for her smuggling operations. Look for red banners hanging with the crest of Fortunata and her Red Sails brigands. They mark the alcoves that have entrances to her special tunnels. The one that will get you to her wine stores the quickest is through the west wing, accesible by the door to your right in the receiving hall. Take a left every time the hallway splits until you reach a dead end. The entrance will be in a room nearby. From there it will be easy to find your way. Poison the decanter that has a golden ship etched into it, then distract her long enough for me to get there and bring it to her."

          "Sounds like a solid plan to me," Daeris nodded and tucked the vial away into one of her pockets. Surely she could improvise long enough for Mirabelle to do what she needed to do. 'Go in the right door, keep left until I find the red banners, poison the decanter, and wait for Mirabelle,' she noted to herself. 'Golden ship etching. Need to remember that.'

          "Remember that your stalling will be just as important as tainting the wine. I have to make sure my every step is accounted for if I don't want to ruin months of careful infiltration," Mirabelle said, the stress in her tone emphasizing how important this cover was to her.

          "I promise I'll protect your cover," Daeris placed a hand briefly on her shoulder. "Now, I'd best be off before the sun goes down. A sunset is probably nicer to watch from a castle view."

            Slipping through the entry hall was easy. The small room that greeted you when you opened the doors to Anvil Castle was emptied of it's normal bustling socialites and prospecting climbers of the city's hierarchy. Those looking to get into Fortunata's good graces knew to be anywhere else at this time so the governor's less civil associates can have their free run of the west wing and, according to Mirabelle's information, Fortunata's smuggling tunnels. The west wing itself was stocked with outlaws and corrupt officials, but thankfully most of them were in too much of a stupor to take notice of the intruder that stalked their halls. Daeris found the alcove with little effort, working to uncover its secrets the moment the area patrol turned a corner. It was a well-hidden mechanism, Daeris would admit that, but poking around the stone decorations long enough opened the tunnel with little resistance.

          No traps? How, disappointing, Fortunata. You of all people should know better.

          The passages itself was no challenge, either. A single hallway with little variation other than a turn and a few sets of stairs. How boring! But navigating the castle was never meant to be her challenge, was it? The true task was getting through the evening without blowing Mirabelle's cover or letting Fortunata somehow survive. After the chore of navigating Castle Kvatch earlier that day, Daeris was not inclined to complain about a change of pace.

          Guards and chattering servants cluttered around the wine stores like birds protecting their nests. Fortunata was obviously wise enough to anticipate an attempt to poison her. Any woman that possessed the amount of power that she did and an equal thirst for wine would be smart enough to mind such attempts. This did not necessarily bode ill for Daeris, however. Since it was so amply defended, perhaps Fortunata would be more trusting of her drinks? If her own brilliance had gone to her head, maybe her pride in her astute carefulness would blind her to the thought of being bested. The thought of using Fortunata's own ego against her damn near made Daeris's mouth water. The ones who tried to fight off death the most were always the most satisfying to send to the Void. Reminding people that they were mortal, that they weren't the gods they wished to be, was always a spectacle.

          Daeris sat perched in a shadowed corner, taking advantage of her magic to watch the patterns of the crowd unseen. Unfortunately, it was taking too much time. Anytime someone left, another person would appear, gossiping about their master or fellow servants. The guard patrols were of less concern than the gaggle of people in tunics pretending to clean the area around them so they could talk. Was there no end to them? Was this the only relief they had from daily life under Fortunata's boot?

          The situation became more dire when she saw Mirabelle turn the corner at the opposite end of the hallway and make her way towards the wine room.

          'Shit! I haven't gotten to poison the wine yet! I have to find a way to tell her,' Daeris cursed in her thoughts. She had to find a way to tell Mirabelle that she hadn't been able get to the decanter yet. But how? There were three people between the two of them. They didn't know Daeris was there, but neither did Mirabelle. She had to get her attention without alerting the other three.

          Mirabelle was steps away from entering the wine storage when Daeris deactivated her magic. It was only for a split second, but she hoped it would catch Mirabelle's attention and not that of the others. Mirabelle stopped at the open door, her eyes flicking over the corner where Daeris was. Her brows pinched together like she was unsure of what she saw. Daeris made herself visible for another moment, this time a second longer to communicate her unspoken message, then faded back into the shadows. She could only hope and pray that Mirabelle understood and the others did not see. However, one of the servants began to shift his eyes in her direction, and Daeris was all but convinced her cover was blown. The servant rubbed his eyes as if checking his vision, and Daeris was ready to make a dash to find a different hiding spot.

          Cue Mirabelle, to the rescue once again. She stepped amidst the servants, pulling all of their attention to her. "You won't believe this," she said to them. "That captain Fortunata was sleeping with until he made a move on Yorina? He just came in through a passage downstairs. But that's not all; I saw Yorina coming from Fortunata's quarters while passing through the halls just now, looking spent as a maiden on her wedding night."

          "No pissing way Fortunata'd bag her," one of the servants dismissed Mirabelle's claims. "Fortunata was real hot on the captain, and him getting with Yorlina behind her back hurt her pride somethin' good. If Fortunata wants anything from her, it's her head on a silver platter."

          "But Mirabelle says the captain's here too," another servant interjected. "Maybe the three of them made up. Y'know....together. Or maybe Yorlina's trying to get in good with Fortunata so she won't hold it over the captain anymore."

          "Both of you are ridiculous. There's no way either of them could get in Fortunata's good graces after what they pulled," the third cast her lot in the conversation. "If the captain's in through the tunnels, I say it's because he's not supposed to be here. I think he and Yorlina are working together to take out Fortunata because they know it's the only way they're ever going to have business in the Gold Coast so long as the Red Sails have the run o' things."

          "There's only one way to find out," Mirabelle said, gesturing for them to follow her down the hallway. "They're both headed for the west wing. They're probably meeting."

          "Now this I have to hear," the male servant chimed, and he and the two other servants followed Mirabelle around the corner and away from the wine room. Thanks to Mirabelle's interference, it was now safe for Daeris to do what she'd come to do. But how would this affect Mirabelle's role in their scheme? How was she going to get free to bring Fortunata her wine?

          It couldn't have been that big of an issue, right?

          Wrong. So very, very wrong.

          Fortunata's wine storage looked modest from the outside. It was on the other side of a small kitchen occupied by a chef and a soldier, but the two were too invested in their conversation to pay mind to the room at their left. The wine room appeared to just be a small offset alcove, but stepping into the room proved otherwise. The room was expansive to the left and right, filled with racks of wine and other forms of alcohol. There was a cabinet that stood out, filled with special decanters of Fortunata's favorite flavors. This made things far more complicated than Daeris imagined. Mirabelle told her which one to poison specifically, but now that Mirabelle's future involvement was in doubt, the mission was jeopardized. What if Mirabelle wasn't the one to bring Fortunata the wine, and the servant who did brought the wrong one? It was a nightmare scenario, but Daeris prayed that luck would be in her favor. You'd think that it would always be in her favor considering who her mother was, but she didn't care for intervening too often, and Daeris had little ability to influence her luck herself. It was not a force that she knew much about, let alone how to control such a thing. Perhaps one day her mother would enlighten her, but that seemed less likely as the years passed.

          Daeris opened the cabinet quietly and picked out the decanter with the golden ship etched into its neck. The vial of poison contained only a couple of drops, so pouring it into all of the decanters and hoping for the best was not an option. She almost felt like a hypocrite, complaining earlier that her work was not challenging enough. Getting what she asked for was not even close to a blessing. She grumbled a slew of curses and poured the poison into the decanter, then closed the cabinet and snuck back into the hallway.

          Fortuna's quarters were easier to sneak into since she knew how to access the governor's secret passages. All Daeris had to do was re-enter the hidden alcove and poke around until she found the right door. There were a few misleading doors and dead ends, but eventually Daeris found a door that was pretentiously decorated enough to lead to someone's private quarters. She slipped into the room unnoticed, greeted by the sight of Fortunata standing in front of her fireplace. Daeris cleared her throat to get her attention, and the governor turned to her, startled.

          "Pardon my discomposure, but you...weren't expected," Fortunata gathered herself. Weren't fucking invited, more like it, but she had a better grip on her pretend etiquette than to let the harsher statement escape. "I assume you're here to tell me that the deed is done?"

          "Commander Scipio took a bath in his own blood last night, if that's what you're wondering," Daeris mused and crossed her arms. "Count Carolus was rather disturbed by the news of his passing."

          Fortunata's tense posture eased and a sadistically saccharine smile occupied her wine-dyed lips. "Wonderful news. So wonderful that I'm going to overlook the sudden intrusion and offer you a drink."

          Daeris returned her grin with one of her own, full of sultry curiosity. She needed to buy Mirabelle time. It was a last-ditch effort, but she didn't want to have to pull her blade unless the poison was no longer an option. She pulled down her mask and hood, revealing her face to the governer. It wouldn't matter, so long as Fortunata died, and it was the perfect way to lull someone into security. A sign of false trust, as if the pirate would even have the chance to give away her secret. It also helped that Daeris had a devil's face, pretty enough to hide the intent behind it.

          "How kind of you, governor. If I may brag, I say I went well beyond the call of duty to honor your request," Daeris lulled with her honeyed words, putting a sway in her step as she approached Fortunata. "I hope you take that into consideration in the future, should you decide to enlist my services again."

           "I admit, it'd be tempting to have the Dark Brotherhood at my beck and call," Fortunata mused, her eyes openly studying the assassin from head to toe. "Perhaps we can discuss a further partnership with your organization, and maybe further reward for you personally, since you went through so much trouble."

           She turned in a snap, grabbing the attention of her meek serving girl that tried to sink into the corner and stay out of the assassin's line of view. "Wine, Edwina. The red one from Russafeld. Bring something for my friend, too. She seems like a red wine kind of woman," Fortunata commanded and began to walk towards the door to her balcony. As she passed Daeris, placed a lingering hand at the top of her arm. "Come, let's talk on the balcony. The view is far better."

          Daeris arched a brow at the Fortunata's not-so-subtle flirtation. She had Fortunata on the hook, but it might all be for nothing if Edwina brought an untainted wine. The only thing Daeris could do was bide her time and see what happened. Even the gorgeous sunset and sexually-charged conversation couldn't rid her of the terror in her heart that she might genuinely fuck this mission up and ruin Mirabelle's hard work in the process. Not only would that be a black mark on her career as an assassin, but Mirabelle had been through enough in the past couple of months without Daeris making it worse for her. By Sithis, if anything good could come out of this, please don't let her actions hurt her friend!

          "Something wrong?" Fortunata jarred Daeris from her thoughts. Apparently she let the worry slip onto her face. An uncommon mistake for the assassin.

          "Apologies governor. I'm just nervous,"she replied, her tone coated with sugar and honey to draw Fortunata back int the illusion of a pleasant evening. "Assassins like myself don't usually find ourselves dining with such fine company, especially not the most powerful woman in all of Cyrodiil."

          The governor scoffed, but the words did not pass her softly. The compliment weaved itself visibly into the twitch of her lips and the rise of her eyebrows. She rose from her seat, turning away from the assassin. "I can't claim such a boast. Not yet, at least."

          "Are you so sure?" Daeris grinned. "Who could compete, my lady? Even the Empress-regent can't keep a grip on her city the way that you can. She's the most powerful in title, true, but look at what's happened to her rule. Her city, flooded with daedra, and she herself is nowhere to be found. The rest of Cyrodiil is a joke as well. Only the Gold Coast retains any of it's glory, and that's all thanks to you and your efforts."

          Fortunata was an easy woman to speak to, if you knew how. Take a look at her actions and you'd see exactly what she wanted: power. If Daeris could tempt her with that, she could have her ear for as long as she needed.

          "I dare say," she continued,"that it may even be in my organization's best interest to see you installed to a higher status. The chaos caused by the Tharn pretender's ineptitude has done much to halt our operations. If someone as capable as you were put in charge, I doubt you'd let it continue."

          The governor turned back to Daeris, her mouth slightly agape as she thought of the possibilities. The most powerful organization in Tamriel potentially wanting to install her as empress? A picture of herself sitting on the ruby throne with a crown on her head formed in her mind, and suddenly the thought of allying with the Dark Brotherhood became more of a need than a maybe. Fortunata strode to stand in front of the assassin, leaning her arms on the chair and bringing their faces so close together that Fortunata could smell the citrus scent of her breath.

          "I don't know if you're genuinely interested in putting me on the throne or just using that pretty little mouth of yours to get your organization some more business," she said in a low voice, "but if you make that happen, I'll give your associates a goddamn fortress and give them military sanctions so no one will be hunting them down anymore. I'll outlaw everything except the worship of Sithis if that's what your people want. And you, for being so personally involved, can have whatever your murderous little heart desires. If you make it happen."

          "There is no 'if', Fortunata," Daeris smiled coyly. "If the Dark Brotherhood decides that something will happen, it will happen."

          Before Fortunata could utter her response, the door to the balcony opened as the serving girl returned with the requested wine. But it was not Edwina. No, it was Mirabelle, much to Daeris's shock and gratitude.

          "Mirabelle?" Fortunata questioned, stepping back and removing herself from the rather compromising situation she had started to create. "Where's Edwina?"

          "I'm afraid she had a little spill, mistress," Mirabelle spoke to Fortunata, silently acknowledging Daeris with a glance. She placed the platter with the decanter -the silver one with a golden ship etched into the neck- onto the table beside Fortunata and poured her a drink. "You know as well as I do that she has two left feet. She's cleaning up the mess as we speak, and if I may be so bold to suggest, perhaps she should be left to cleaning for the forseeable future. It's a better use of her talents. Otherwise, you're practically just paying her to spill your rare imports."

          "A noteworthy suggestion. I'll consider it," Fortunata sighed, visibly annoyed by Edwina's clumsiness. She took the fresh goblet of wine from the platter and walked toward the edge of the balcony to stare off at the sunset. Daeris had given her a lot to contemplate. Unfortunately, the governor would never see her new ambition come to life.

          "It's refreshing how much more simple things are dealing with an assassin than it is with other people in positions of power like Count Carolus. Your people understand the simple truth of the world. Kill, or be killed. Get what you want or die trying," she ranted as she took a drink. "You'd think it'd be the other way around. That these noble people of the world would have the right of things. But they don't. They do worse things than the crimes they publicly denounce just to hide their little imperfections. Honor. Morality. It's all a defense mechanism; a way to say that you're better than someone, when really, you might just be worse."

          The governor staggered for a moment, and Daeris and Mirabelle waited with bated breath to see it the poison would do its job. Then came the single trail of blood from Fortunata's nose. She dropped her goblet, her hand reaching for her throat as if she could claw away the burning that was overtaking her. Her eyes looked at the fallen goblet, and she made the connection.

          "What have you done!?" she screeched at Mirabelle.

          "A toast, Fortunata," Daeris grinned as she swirled her dry goblet between her fingers. "To the glory of the Night Mother."

          "This life you built for yourself, this power you scratched and clawed and stepped on people for, everything you are or could ever be, is nothing," Mirabelle snarled. "You are nothing, Fortunata, and all that awaits you is nothing. You belong to the Void. To Sithis. And there are no thrones where you're going."

          Fortunata opened her mouth as if to lash out further at the two, but the poison choked the air from her. All it took was one tiny misstep, and she lost her footing, tumbling over the balconey's edge to her death.

          "Well, that makes the cover-up easier," Mirabelle shrugged as she and Daeris looked down over the edge at the fallen governor. "Poor Fortunata drunk herself into a stupor and took a tumble off her balcony. It was bound to happen eventually."

          "Need any help?" Daeris offered.

          "Thanks for the offer, darling, but I know exactly how to handle things. I just need to prepare my shocked face and muster up a few tears for when I go screaming through the corridor about what I witnessed," Mirabelle yawned. "Thank you, though, for going out of your way to make sure I can keep my cover here. I mean it. Other people would have not cared or would have panicked and messed everything up when things got more complicated. But you kept your composure, and I can't help but feel like it was for my sake."

          "Of course it was for you. We're family, Mirabelle," Daeris said and placed her hand on Mirabelle's shoulder. She could see that sad twinkle in her eye that'd been there since Cimbar died. Mirabelle felt alone, and Daeris had no problem going out of her way to show her that she wasn't. She pulled the Breton into a tight hug, trying to communicate this further.

          "Thank you," Mirabelle reiterated as she pulled away. "Now, go back to the Sanctuary and tell everyone the good news."

          Daeris smiled and turned to exit through the balcony door. As she looked back, she could see Mirabelle staring out at the near-set sun and its crimson sheath, tears flowing down her cheeks, which caused her smile to fade and her to leave the castle in a downcast spirit. Daeris understood the feeling all too well; that loneliness the creeps up on you when you least expect it. She believed with all her heart that the Dark Brotherhood was her family; that she had a home with her fellow assassins. She lived with these people. She laughed with them. She mourned with them. She loved them.

          And yet, she somehow still felt impossibly, unflinchingly alone.

          She ventured through Fortunata's hidden passages, using the smuggler tunnels to find a hidden cave outlet that took her to the shore outside the castle. And when she was there and realized that no one was around to see her, she sat down on the sand of the beach and wept.

[kai-keda]

YO!

We have a character analysis on Prussia based on Hetalia World Stars/character songs/the anime (as those are the only things I have full access to)

Full script under the "read more”

Clapping Nasty! Thot! Turbo! Virgin! Chaotic! Energy! Clapping

I was dared to say all those things first thing when starting this video. Except that last one. That last one was my own doing.

Anyways, let’s give a quick overview of how this analysis is gonna work. First, we need to discuss what may be considered the elephant in the room to people in the Hetalia fandom who know me on Discord.

Specifically the people in one particular RP server I’m in.

We need to talk about canon.

Now in the past I’ve made a point of the importance of canon when representing these characters. And I stand by everything I’ve said in the past, just not the way I said it. See, I don’t think the people I’ve talked to about it really understand what I meant and that may be my own fault.

When I tried to push the importance of keeping true to what we know about the characters, I got hit with comments like “well I like to add my own ‘glam’ to the character” or “there’s not much about my muse in canon so where does that leave me?” and so on and so forth.

What I really meant by ‘keeping true to canon’ in Hetalia is that we shouldn’t purposefully go against something we know for a fact is true. Even though it’s really easy when there’s not a lot of material for the character in question in the first place, I just can’t understand the appeal of doing something like that. To put it simply, I fell in love with the characters for who they are, not for who I believe they should be.

This issue came up again - unrelated to the first time it was brought up - on tumblr when someone made a popular post about people being told they’re wrong for representing the characters of Hetalia in certain ways outside of canon because they were from the area in question and wanted their character to be more accurate to their culture as they saw it.

Which is a really complicated, controversial and specific to Hetalia discussion, to be perfectly honest. It’s still a great discussion to be had, though!

Where do we draw the line between cultural/historical accuracy and canon characterization? How do we decide what’s more important? When do we let one side win out if we let it win out at all?

These are all great questions that should be saved to be answered another time on another video and/or tumblr post.

For now, let’s just talk about the meaning behind the title of this video and then I promise we’ll get into the character analysis.

If any of my Dragon Ball fans are here, you’ll probably recognize said title from “This is My Goku” and yes I did it on purpose. I’m sort of parodying my own video because that one was so serious and fueled by anger, spite and hatred that it turned out pretty comical in nature. And this one is one fueled by happiness, positive energy and genuine curiosity.

I’m not here to prove some sort of point, I’m here to see how in-line my personal idea of the character is with how he’s represented in the most recent version of “canon” in Hetalia. (i.e; How well does my headcanon fueled characterization fit with the Hetalia World Stars comic strips that HetaScanalations has so graciously shared with all of us?)

A LOT of what we know of Prussia cannot help but be based on personal headcanons and popular fanons alike. He’s frankly not in the series enough to do a full proper analysis of his character because we only really see him in passing in pretty insignificant strips.

So while I really wanted to call this video “Hetalia Prussia Dissection” I can’t do it. I really honestly either don’t have the skill level or really don’t have the material to do that concept justice. So today we’re going to go into what’s canon and what my own ‘glam’ added to the character really is. (See what I did there? I have nothing against combining headcanon with canon, I just don’t like letting headcanon completely and purposefully override canon but again, that’s a topic for another day.)

So with all that said and understood, let us begin our awesome journey.

Okay so here’s the dealio, Prussia is a narcissist and we’re gonna go into the psychology of that in depth and talk about what all that entails and see how much evidence we have to support that claim in canon.

According to PsychologyToday which, to my understanding, is a credible enough source for quick glances into the minds of people, while having a superiority complex does play a part in narcissism, it’s really a feeling of fear of showing vulnerability that leads it.To quote; “The narcissist fears that acknowledging any weakness will allow someone else the chance to take advantage of him or gain power over him.” And another quote: “Simply put, true narcissists have zero interest in introspection or self-improvement. Their guiding principle: Never, ever let your guard down.”

Now, none of the Hetalia World Stars comics, the Anime nor the character songs themselves actually show Prussia being afraid of being vulnerable explicitly stating, but if we look at the symptoms of narcissism and his history, we can see, in my honest opinion, where that comes into play.

The DSM 5th Editions symptoms for narcissistic personality disorder as described by Leon F. Seltzer, Ph.D. on psychologytoday.com are as follows:

1. Has a grandiose sense of self-importance.

2. Is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love.

3. Believes that he or she is "special" and unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people (or institutions).

4. Requires excessive admiration [regularly fishes for compliments, and is highly susceptible to flattery].

5. Has a sense of entitlement.

6. Is interpersonally exploitative.

7. Lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings and needs of others.

8. Is often envious of others or believes that others are envious of him or her.

9. Shows arrogant, haughty [rude and abusive] behaviors or attitudes.

This particular author of this particular article goes on to add a few more traits and symptoms. Those being:

1. They are highly reactive to criticism

2. They have a low self-esteem

3. Can be inordinately self-righteous and defensive

4. React to contrary viewpoints with anger or rage

5. Project onto others qualities, traits and behaviors they can’t - or won’t - accept in themselves

6. Have poor interpersonal boundaries

This article began by stating that only five of these fifteen traits need to be met in order to be considered for having narcissistic personality disorder. So let’s take a I’m-discovering-writing-this-analysis-as-I-go dive into my notes of where all Prussia's appearances are with these symptoms in mind to see if we can name at least five instances.

Right off the bat in both cases with the first listed symptom and the first appearance of Prussia in Chapter 12 where he unifies Germany, Prussia considers himself the one that is destined to lead the newly formed nation of Germany as his older brother. This is the idea of self-importance. Basically he has the idea of “If I’m not the one to do it, then no one can do it properly.” hence his fighting with Austria (and I bet winning said fight didn’t help.)

So there’s one.

But wait! There’s more in this chapter!

That same instance of him believing he needs to be Germany’s older brother goes along with the symptom of entitlement. It MUST be him simply because it MUST be him.

So we’ve got two now.

“Is highly susceptible to flattery”. When I read that I knew exactly what chapter we were going to discuss. I literally wrote in my notes for chapter 294 “Prussia is weak to flattery” because in the beginning of 294 and the whole of 293, Prussia was arguing with his king Frederick I about how much focus should be put on clothing, but the INSTANT Frederick I mentions that Prussia would probably look cool in the flashy outfits, Prussia caves and goes to spy on France to see about getting said flashy outfits for himself.

That’s three~ Two more and we’ve got ourselves a narcissist.

Being ‘arrogant’ is defined as ‘having or revealing an exaggerated sense of one's own importance or abilities’ and if that doesn’t describe Prussia in literally all of his “I am awesome!” glory, I don’t know what does. It should be self-explanatory to any fan of this series that, yes, Prussia is very arrogant.

Four down, one to go!

Number two in our list of symptoms “Is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love.” I BELIEVE this includes having constant daydreams about past glories as well as bringing them up all the time or when discussing said past glories, only discusses how great and awesome they were at the time.

Cough-cough - Prussia’s diary in 339 where he openly admits that said diary is mostly him saying “You are awesome” 20 times over.

And there we go. Let me know if you think of anymore instances in ANY official material that fits into these symptoms. I’d love to hear about them.

So with those five understood, it’s safe to assume Prussia is in fact a narcissist which - I know - comes as a shock to literally NOBODY but I figured it was important to actually pull up evidence for as opposed to just stating it as a passing fact and moving on like a lot of us Hetalians tend to do.

Explaining understandings of characterization is the fun part of character analysis, after all.

So let’s backtrack a little. Remember how that first article said being a narcissist comes from having a fear of vulnerability? Well, let’s go into headcanon and fanon land for two seconds as we read between the lines to find these signs of vulnerability based on the assumption that Prussia does in fact have this disorder.

Constantly in his official character songs, like “Mein Gott” or the Bad Friends Trio’s song “Overflowing Passion”, Prussia can be heard singing about how ‘it’s great to be alone!’ I take this to be a sign that Prussia understands that everyone is aware of him being lonely but he takes that understanding and turns it into a sign of ‘awesomeness’ as opposed to a weakness. He’d rather turn something most of humanity recognizes as a negative into a positive than admit to his own sadness. It’s the last thing he wants.

Let’s continue down this headcanon rabbit hole and talk about the wonderful Law 46 that was signed in 1947 after WWII and before the Berlin Wall. This is the Law signed by the Allied Control Council (France, America, Britain and the USSR) that stated that Prussia’s excessive militarism combined with excessive nationalism was too dangerous for the world as it was to blame for “repeated German pestilence” as Churchill put it.

Basically, this is the moment Prussia lost his nation and, in popular fanon, became East Germany.

There is no way on God’s green Earth that ANYONE is going to convince me that losing his nation like this - not just losing it in general but losing it to a piece of paper instead of a glorious battle that wiped his resources out - didn’t hurt and still to this day hurts Prussia on a deep emotional level. But do we ever see him talk about it?

No. And why is that? Because that would be a vulnerability.

See, I interpret Prussia as being my favorite type of character. The character that smiles and laughs and puts on a show about how great life is even though deep down they’re suffering from some serious issues whether it be trauma, negative mental health or just bad memories.

I know, I know, that’s not exactly a rare character type but I really don’t care, it’s still my favorite. It’s also not something that’s hard to see in real life. People will often hide behind a mask. We see it all the time in celebrities that people will refuse to ask for help when they are suffering because they’d rather everyone believe everything is fine for this that and/or another reason.

(Honestly though, can’t relate, because when I’m sad I let everyone know but that’s just a personal aside)

Getting off the narcissism train, let’s talk about something significantly less serious.

Prussia likes cute things and is attuned to nature. He’s constantly making references to nature like saying that it’s a great sign that even rabbits will prostrate before him in 299, saying “it’s cool like a wild little bird” in 293 and also mentioning how cute a little chirping bird is in his songs “Mein Gott” and his “Marukaitte Chikyuu.” Not to mention his image for his character profile shows him with a little bird on his head and holding a stuffed bear.

This ties in to both wanting to keep young ones’ innocence in tact as well as how in real life history, the German people had the most respect for nature at a time.

I have a friend who has taken multiple art history classes tell me that in German art there are often scenes of humans being lesser than nature that show how vast, beautiful and truly terrifying nature is.

As for Prussia wanting to help younger people keep their innocence, there is a chapter (chapter 187) where Prussia is reading Grimm Brothers Fairy Tales to a dying Holy Roman Empire (a character still portrayed as a child) and when questions arise like “Why would the witch be mad about Rapunzel’s clothes not fitting her and why would she blame the prince? There was no evidence of the prince bringing in food for her to eat.” he literally throws the book out the window.

He’s later, in the same chapter, shown to be writing the Grimm brothers asking them to PLEASE make the stories more actually child friendly if they’re going to advertise them as being stories for children.

So while in headcanon I imagine Prussia as not-shy-at-all about such things around other adults, it’s another story around children and those he perceives to be innocent. He canonically wants to preserve that cute nature of theirs and will do what he can to do such.

Random fun fact about the Hetalia character of Prussia; he gets really whiny when he’s hungover in chapter 32. He begs Germany to make him food and do other things for him even while Germany himself is also hungover. Also he says “I can’t eat things with faces on them” which woooo boy I’d hate to see what our cute-little-bird loving fool would think of Peeps.

Anyways, I think that’s about all I’ve got and surprisingly, we actually did have a lot to talk about with Prussia using mainly the comics and only partially headcanon. And it’s not even including the original run of the webcomic and manga since I don’t have easy access to those. And we didn’t really discuss the anime too much (mainly because it was just more of what we were able to see in the World Stars serialization).

Please feel free to continue the discussion in the comments. I’d love to hear/read more about one of my three favorite characters and how he’s perceived by others.