#beautiful but poorly structured

[alectrona6400]

Just as I was impatient for Vista SP1 to finish installing (it didn't.)

[bakugoushotwife]

in my opinion, gojo’s storyline has been handled so so poorly i can’t help but think it’s intentional. it is not bad writing to kill a character—even a beloved character. i know most people will dismiss my criticisms because gojo is so beloved to me and so many others. i’ve said before that i don’t mind if he died. does it hurt? of course, and i would still cry and be sad about it. but there is a beautiful way to do it. with respect and honor for his legacy—for what he has done for your manga, the characters in it, and audiences worldwide. but no…gege chose the path of horror and disrespect. at certain points i’d say to myself, well. this is a dark manga. but essentially gojo is the only character that receives this treatment. since the beginning—since suguru left him, he’s been wondering if he mattered because he was a person, or if he only mattered because he was powerful and useable. we certainly fucking answered that question. he is a weapon and nobody ever cared about him at all!!!

and we knew he was being used—he knew he was being used, but he is selfless. so he did it for his kids. for megumi and yuuji and yuuta—he wanted them to be safe. in these flashbacks it’s exceedingly clear that he knew he would die. again—that’s not my issue. gojo dying to sukuna makes plenty of sense and it would hurt to leave it there. but to give us an afterlife scene where he’s presented a choice—north and south—that concept lead nowhere, that’s truly fucked up. to leave all the subtle clues and hints for no reason but to keep people reading and theorizing his return is fucked up. to continue to use his imagery to promote your manga when you know he’s not even honored in your manga is fucked up. we don’t get a funeral or a grave for him. no one’s spoken about him in chapters despite him fighting for hours against sukuna and damaging him so much that yuuji could win, nothing. yuuta wearing him like a costume and no one is horrified about it. i thought his students WERE different. they weren’t jujutsu society yet. that’s why gojo was their teacher—shaping them into better human beings. how am i supposed to trust in their future when it seems they’re just as cold and heartless as everyone before them? no one has honored gojo in any way since the moment he died. and they’ve forgotten about him. he spent his entire life fighting and no one can even say thank you. gege intentionally used gojo to promote the end of his manga because he knows that gojo fans make up at least half of his fanbase so had we stopped reading when he died, he would have lost a lot of traction. he baited us intentionally, cruelly, and something that transcends storytelling. i’ve truly never seen a mangaka have this sort of vitriol for one of their characters and the people that love him.

we spent the entire last chapter talking about some random fucking mission when we have several unanswered questions and concerns. i thought gege said he wanted this ending to be shocking and something you didn’t see in shonen? tying everything up neatly where no one has any trauma or grief for what they’ve experienced, everyone comes back to life except the one character you hate specifically and choso, defying your own power structures and having everyone laughing into the sunset is exactly how shonen ends so what in the fuck is he talking about??

let me disclaim, this is not megumi hate at all. i love him very much and i am so happy he’s back with the group but like. he shouldn’t be able to even walk. he tanked unlimited void for over 6 minutes whenever that length caused irreversible damage to sukuna himself. not to mention the countless black flashes. so what the fuck? he doesn’t mention gojo at all?? the first time he laughs in this manga is after he reads a note written by his dead fucking caretaker about his dead fucking father? like i don’t believe. random open ended kenjaku/suguru mention just to piss me off, an absolutely no mention of gojos sacrifice or how they’ll miss him. i’m sick to my stomach. gege defiled his memory both in the story and outside of it. wow.

P.S. SUKUNA CARED MORE ABOUT GOJO THAN ANYONE ELSE (SUGURU IS NOT INCLUDED IN THIS I MEAN HIS STUDENTS AND SOCIETY)

[linkspooky]

JASON TODD VS. DABI: WHY NOT ME?

"You haven't been here long but you've seen him, right? The batman. The batman. He lives in darkness, to find the helpless and bring them into the light. So I have to wonder...why couldn't he do it for me?" The Boy Wonder: Issue #2

This is the story of the boy who didn't get saved. The story of a boy who really ought to have been saved. Of course, every victim deserves to be saved, but this boy was the son of a superhero. Can a hero who saves everyone, but fails to save his own son really be called a hero? As for the son, how does it feel to watch his father save complete strangers but let him fall to the wayside?

Jason Todd and Dabi are two characters with similar backstories and motives (so similar it's possible Dabi is outright based on Jason Todd) which are worthy of comparison. These are two tragic arcs which explore the conflict between a hero's responsibility to act as a father, and their responsibility to save people. As I said they are tragic because in both cases the hero fails, as a father, and a hero. However, I'm comparing the two because Jason Todd's story is a well written tragedy, and Toya's story is not.

If you were to write a story of my life, it would surely be a tragedy.

Aristotle's Poetics is the first attempt to define what Tragedy is, not as a story where sad things happen but a specific story structure. He outlines not only what makes tragedy, tragedy, but also what makes a good tragedy.

The Plot, then, is the first principle, and, as it were, the soul of a tragedy: Character holds the second place. A similar fact is seen in painting. The most beautiful colours, laid on confusedly, will not give as much pleasure as the chalk outline of a portrait. Thus Tragedy is the imitation of an action, and of the agents mainly with a view to the action.

I use this quote because the painting metaphor is a great way of explaining what I'm getting at, you can have a painting with the most wonderful colors, you can have a story with really good ideas like the Todoroki family plotline but if you don't use those colors correctly all you're going to end up with is a bad painting.

In poetics Aristotle clearly defines a tight well-structured plot as the first priority for effective tragedy, character as second.

Again, a beautiful object, whether it be a living organism or any whole composed of parts, must not only have an orderly arrangement of parts, but must also be of a certain magnitude; for beauty depends on magnitude and order. Hence a very small animal organism cannot be beautiful; for the view of it is confused, the object being seen in an almost imperceptible moment of time. Nor, again, can one of vast size be beautiful; for as the eye cannot take it all in at once, the unity and sense of the whole is lost for the spectator; as for instance if there were one a thousand miles long

To make sure you understand, it's vital in tragedy for all the pieces to fit together. Tragedy is a specific story format. Good tragedy uses the parts of a story well, but bad tragedy is sloppy and poorly put together. In tragedy, the whole has to be greater than the sum of its parts. The Todoroki Family are all good characters out of context, but the story could have enhanced their characters but detracted from them due to how poorly it is told. The fact that a lot of MHA fans are in love with the Todoroki family out of the context of the story, but also have constant complaints for how Horikoshi handles their plotlines is, in my opinion, very telling.

What Aristotle goes on to posit is the best tragedies do not come about by accident, but rather by the direct actions of the characters.

But again, Tragedy is an imitation not only of a complete action, but of events inspiring fear or pity. Such an effect is best produced when the events come on us by surprise; and the effect is heightened when, at the same time, they follow as cause and effect. The tragic wonder will thee be greater than if they happened of themselves or by accident; for even coincidences are most striking when they have an air of design. 

Therefore Tragedies require consequentialism, like Newton's Third Law, every action will have an equal and opposite reaction. To simplify a good tragedy arises from the consequences of the character's actions (or inaction). The most basic form is that the hero of the story will have a tragic flaw that they fail to improve upon in time and then leads to their destruction. In essence, tragedy is where the hero fails. Not only does the hero fail, but the hero loses, and that irreversible loss is what defines tragedy. Medea slays her own children, Oedipus rips his own eyes off and deserts his kingdom, Creon Antigone is buried alive and Creon's son, her fiancee, commits suicide.

These events share two things in common, they are irreversible (hence why they feel like good endings), and two they evoke catharsis. Aristotle defines the goal of tragedy to evoke terror and pity. We feel alongside these heroes, Medea was abandoned by the husband Jason who she left her home and slaughtered her own brother for, Oedipus did all of his crimes unwittingly and is a victim of fate, Antigone was doing the right thing by burying her brother so his soul could pass on to the afterlife.

There's all different sorts of tragedies, Hamliet explores more here. I'd say UTRH and Hellish Todoroki Family are tragedies centered around grief.

Tragedy works on extreme emotions, and extreme hard-hitting consequences to the hero's failures. The worst thing a tragedy can be is boring.

The Tragic Hero

Now that I'm done lecturing you let's actually talk about both My Hero Academia and Batman like I promised. Both of these stories don't actually feature the central victim as their protagonist, and that is a feature not a flaw.

Rather, the story we are being told is that of a tragic hero, failing to save a tragic victim because of their own personal flaws.

These flaws are called (hamartia) or "error in judgement". A hero, being called a hero of a story is often unaware of his flaws which is central to what makes them unable to fix those flaws in time. That flaw can later lead to a moral failing, such as Othello's jealousy, initially jealousy is an understandable emotion, but then it leads to him trusting Iago over his own wife and killing his wife in a rage.

Most importantly, the hero’s suffering and its far-reaching reverberations are far out of proportion to his flaw.

Let's begin with talking of the heroes and their flaws, Batman and Endeavor. My main reason for comparing these two is in these specific stories they have the same flaw, inability to move past their personal guilt towards their son, and the same conflict the duty of a father versus the duty of a hero.

However, Batman functions as a tragic hero, and Enji does not. The summary of their conflict is right here in these two panels.

A parent is required to place their children above everything else, because they are the ones responsible for bringing that child into the world. Bruce Wayne made the decision to adopt Jason. Enji made the decision to have children, however with Enji you have the added insidious motivation of he only wanted to make designer babies and just didn't care for the ones who didn't turn out right.

Bruce attempts to do both, to act as a father for Jason and also a crime fighter as batman but he can't do both. This comes to a head in Death of the Family when Jason is having serious trouble because of his lack of a strong parental figure, and Bruce knowing that Jason is in trouble chooses still to go off and fight crime instead of staying with him. The choice to place crimefighting over the child they chose to take responsibility for has the unintended consequence of getting that child killed.

Whereas Enji makes the same choice over and over again, ignoring Toya's clear troubles at the fact his father no longer spends time with him and choosing to run away to the world of heroes because he doesn't want to face the fact that his actions are severely hurting his son. Bruce's motivations are more sympathetic admittedly he wasn't actively practicing eugenics, but the choice is the same and the consequences are the same.

Both Bruce and Enji are forced to bear witness to the deaths of their children when they are not there, specifically because they made a choice to be a hero instead of staying by their child's side. A situation directly caused by their choice to be a hero over a father, and a situation that would have been avoided if they had stayed with their child in their time of need. Jason runs off when Batman tells him to stay and gets kidnapped by the Joker, if Enji had been on Sekoto peak that day Toya would never have accidentally lost control of his fire.

This is just the backstory however, the main event that kickstart this plot is the unexpected return from the dead of both Jason and Dabi. Each story follows the same plot beats. A new villain appears to challenge Endeavor / Batman. The villain reveals themselves as their dead son. Both Endeavor / Batman are given a chance to try reaching out to their sons, but they choose not to.

Then even though they are given a second chance with a miracle of a dead son coming back to them, they choose the exact same thing they chose before, being a hero and because of that the tragedy repeats itself. For both of them they are unable to save their son again, and the son goes through a second death. History repeats itself, the lesson isn't learned.

Their fatal flaw is their guilt. This is a story about grief and mourning after all, a son who is died, buried, but never grieved properly, never mourned, an open wound on the father suddenly coming back. The inability of each to process their grief blinds them from seeing the fact the son has come back, and they have a second chance.

Toya has internalized he is a failure, because Enji literally called him that. Jason believes that Batman thinks he is a failure. In both cases the father is the one who failed, Bruce at least acknowledges this but cannot communicate it in any way shape or form.

This guilt and responsibility both Enji and Bruce feel causes them to self-sabotage. They no longer have the confidence they are in the right (they no longer feel like heroes because they have failed to be heroes to their own son).

You can also add the layer of complication that since both men chose to be heroes in the past, they do not know how to handle the situation as a father now that they're being challenged to step up as one. Unfortunately, they are not the fathers that stepped up.

The reason their grief becomes a flaw is because they put their grief over their victims. . Each man is aware too much of their own failure, and while they should feel guilty they make the classic mistake of placing their own guilt over the feelings of the victim. The guilt they feel for causing the death and the genuine grief of losing a son is given priority over Jason and Dabi who you know... actually died.

An overwhelming grief and guilt is understandable because grief is a messy and human emotion, losing a child is an unimaginable tragedy that should never be inflicted on anyone.

Yet at the same time both Dabi and Jason are grieving to. This paradox that Batman only thinks of his own grief at losing a son and never stops to think about how Jason must feel leads to one of the best lines in Under the Red Hood.

"The father had lost a son, and now the son had lost a father."

Batman's guilt is so strong over being the cause of Jason's suffering, that the suffering of the victim himself is ignored. To be fair to My Hero Academia, the Todorokis say a similar line to Enji.

However, this is where I begin to get into the difference between ideas and execution. Tragedies are stories of actions and logical consequences, every action has an equal and opposite reaction in Under the Red Hood. Batman is punished for the choices he makes, the choices he doesn't make, and the choices he fails to make in time.

The Todoroki plotline features almost none of its character making any choices of substance, and because of that the plotline says the right things over and over again, but it all comes off as tell don't show.

I'm going to quote @codenamesazanka's post right here a couple of times because they describe the complete failure of the Todoroki plotline to show us a reason why we should be feeling things for the characters artfully.

We've heard Enji say this before - I'm sorry, I intend to atone. It's indeed the right thing to say, it's exactly what he should be saying and acting. Natsuo is declaring no contact - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. Touya calls him a coward - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. The public hates him - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. But you can only hear this so many times before you want to snap and beat the character, the story, the writing over the head with Enji's wheelchair. Why is that? He's behaving exactly as he should, and yet...

The reason why it fails to evoke strong feelings is because of what we'd called "narrative dissonance." The actions of Bruce and Enji are the same, they both neglect to do anything, make any real attempts to reach out to their victims because they're paralyzed by guilt.

However, we are told that they have entirely different arcs. Bruce's arc is a tragic fall. He's failing as a hero. While we are being told that Enji is experiencing an arc of atonement. Enji is supposed to be improving himself, and Bruce is supposed to be experiencing negative character development but they both do the exact same thing in story. Bruce neglects Jason, we are told by the story, by the characters in the story that Bruce is failing Jason. Enji does nothing in time to actually atone for Toya or try to help him, yet, we are told again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again that Enji is atoning with nothing substantive to show us this is the case.

To show what I meant instead of telling this scene is in chapter 252.

This scene is the ending point in chapter in chapter #426.

It's just him repeating the exact same sentiment and yet in a more than 150+ chapter gap, Enji never made any action to show he was now placing his family first. Enji didn't say anything to Dabi when he revealed himself as Toya. Enji didn't look for Toya in the months before the final war arc. Enji literally appeared on live TV in a broadcast that Toya was watching and said the very selfish "Watch Me" atone for the crime of creating Toya instead of literally talking about Toya or too Toya. Well, that would have rocked the boat too much... THAT IS LITERALLY THE POINT. Enji had to somehow break from tradition or make some significant sacrifice onscreen to his social standing to show that he's willing to put his family first. Enji decides to go along with Hawks decision to not face Toya head on, making the decision to be the hero for the final time which directly causes Toya to get up after Shoto brings him down non-lethally and make one last attempt to suicide bomb for his father's inaction.

Bruce does nothing for a long time in Under the Red Hood. He ignores his initial instinct that Jason came back and instead makes a long investigation on whether or not someone can come back from the dead in order to distract himself. When Jason takes the mask off, Batman already knew but was pretending otherwise because he didn't want to face the reality.

Even when Jason takes his mask off, Bruce still takes on the "I need to investigate this" angle even though Jason calls him out that deep down he already knows it's the truth. This of course foreshadows Bruce's underlying flaw, he doesn't want to face Jason head on because he feels too much grief about what happened to Jason and his guilt is more important than Jason's own grief. Just as the father has lost the son, the son has lost the father.

What follows is several chapters of Batman fighting crime as usual and making no attempts to directly search for Jason. They cross paths a few times but when they do Bruce doesn't follow. In fact, Bruce only shows up when Jason sends Bruce a sample of the joker's hair and Bruce knows that the Joker has kidnapped him out of Arkham. Bruce almost lets Jason get killed by Black Mask because he doesn't know whether to stop Jason or save him yet again, and then they have their final showdown where Jason has kidnapped the joker to demand Bruce kill him, and Bruce finally attempts to talk him down.

Out of context it sounds like I'm describing the same plotline, to the point where if you haven't read either, it looks like I'm complaining baselessly. Why is one hero doing nothing until it's too late good, and the other bad? The difference is of course context, or rather framing. Bruce's actions are called out by the people around him (Dick, Jason, Alfred) as him handling the situation wrong. Whereas both Enji's internal monologue and other characters say that he is doing his best to atone for his actions and deserves a chance, but the events we are shown in story are the exact opposite.

Here's another example to SHOW my point. Here's Dabi with my special, hardcover edition of under the Red Hood.

I reread the entirety of the fourteen chapter plotline and the majority of internal narrations come from characters outside of Bruce observing his behavior and commenting on how differently he's acting. Jason's backstory for instance is told by Alfred, not Bruce. Dick Grayson the first Robin comments on Batman's odd behavior. The rest are the third person narrator. Bruce has four instances of internal monologues spanning a few pages each in a 378 page story. (Alfred has the most internal monologues and he's presented as a more trustworthy unbiased narrator than Bruce, to get us to question Bruce's actions).

"Information travels on many routes, sometimes it comes predictably like the tides. You just need to know where to stand and meet it. Other times it's elusive and you have to root through the garbage to find it. In the last few years I've come to rely on Barbara Gordon, Oracle, we all did. Utilizing every form of surveillance equipment she has been the eyes and ear [...] but those days are over. I can't rely on anyone anymore. [...] and tonight it's also about the company I keep. It's different with him [night wing] out here. I think about when he was younger, when I was younger, it was different, simpler and I miss it. I miss those days, for that it's hard to be around him.

This first internal monologue is a case of unreliable narrator, because as soon as finishing it Dick Grayson / Nightwing shows up, offers Batman his help and while Bruce at first refuses it the two of them are forced to work together to fight Amazo. What does this show us? Bruce is not alone, but Bruce actively acts like he's alone ignoring the feelings of the other people around him. It exhibits a flaw of Bruce and the bad headspace he is in mentally (if I remember correctly Stephanie Brown recently died in the comics while this storyline was being published. It establishes Bruce's improper coping mechanism with grief, and how he is going about it the incorrect way.

Bruce says I work alone, and then Bruce says it's easier working with Dick, I miss it, but I can't go back to those days. It's bruce's contradictory thinking patterns in the same chapter that stop him. it's bruce's fault he cannot connect to Dick, and he is actively mourning the past because his relationship with Dick has changed.

Now the final part of the monologue in that chapter.

He's quick. Not just fast, agile. He's not thinking about his next move, he's just making it. He's been trained well. And there's something about him. Something familiar. There was something interesting about before he cut the line, before it had been taught. That had to have been practiced. Either that or just plain dumb luck. No it's not luck.

This is the first hint that Bruce already suspects it's Jason from early on but is in denial about it. This unreliable narrator trope also gives an agency to Bruce's decision, he is actively choosing to ignore the possibility that it's Jason because it doesn't want it to be.

Whereas, a lot of Endeavor's plot takes away any agency from him. For example, he doesn't even know that Dabi is Toya, because if he had the sneaking suspicion and ignored it like Batman did that might have made him look bad. We can't have the main character in a tragedy looking bad now can we?

The second monologue is more denial.

That device is from Kord industries. I should know. Ordered it special from them. How can he have it? No more dead ends. No more questions. No more guessing. Tonight I find out what is passing for the truth.

Reading between the lines this is outright confirmation Batman already knows.

The third is a brief reflection in his feelings for Jason.

The armor has to be light enough to fit but strong enough to protect. But sometimes a great many times, it's not strong enough. It wans't strong enough for Barbara who has to fight from her chair. It wasn't strong enough for Stephanie, other dear soldier enough dear grave. And it wasn't enough for Jason. Willful Jason. Who ignored the danger. Who spat at risk. Who was never frightened enough. I've always wondered... always... was he scared at the end? Was he praying I'd come save him? And in those last moments when he knew that I wouldn't. Did he hate me for it?

This monologue directly shows without stating it outright, Bruce is prioritizing his feelings of grief and failure mixing them in with his genuine grief over the loss of a son. it's selfish of him, but grief is a selfish emotion.

Here's the thing Bruce is allowed to be selfish and to not have the correct reaction to his grief, because the whole story is centered on Bruce being unable to get his shit together in time, and this picture into his emotions is an explanation as to why. Bruce is afraid of being hated by Jason. Jason of course has every right to hate him for failing as a father, but still I think not wanting to be hated to a person you loved so much and feel genuinely sorry over what you let happen to them is an understandable reaction.

Meanwhile we have Enji saying repeatedly all the right things in his monologue, the selfless, I don't need to be forgiven, it's okay if they hate me, I just need to atone but he never actually does anything. There's no explanation for why he isn't doing anything either, so that narrative dissonance. We're shown why Bruce doesn't act in time, he's internally a mess to be frank. We are not shown why Enji doesn't act in time because his internal monologue tells us again and again he's committed to atoning and he understands what the right thing to do is.

As Codenamesanzanka says:

Enji is still saying all the right things, but the story isn't giving him the opportunity to actually do the right things. To have his new actions matter. I have no doubt about his sincerity in his mantra, but without the 'show', it's hollow. Similarly, "Let's talk" is actually kinda bullshit too, because it's so vague. This is less about Enji, and more about the writing, how it set up this scene. "Let's talk" or "I want to talk" or any of that variation is repeated 6 times, without anything more or specific added.

There's an excess of repetition of Enji saying he wants to atone, he's ready to atone, without any of that materializing in the story.

As @class1akids says in this reaction post:

It also feels also super-hollow to say he's sheltering the family from the fallout, after they've just talked about how Fuyumi lost her job (and got a new one through the connections she herself built). How is he going to do that?

The fourth because I don't want to write it down, it's just Batman monologueing on how his partnership with Jason is still good and explaining the technical details of his fight with count Vertigo. It's in chapter 10 if you must look it up.

So four monologues total. Two monologues establish indirectly that Batman knows that Red Hood is Jason and doesn't want to face him. The third monologue establishes why he doesn't want to face him, he's afraid of being hated. The monologue is in line with Bruce's actions in the story, Bruce investigates several ways of reviving from the dead instead of looking for Jason.

The character's reactions around Bruce are also talking about how he's not acting like himself. Especially Alfred's who speaks of Bruce's indecision, on whether to put a stop to or save Jason.

"It is curious. He is lost in thought. It is not like him to spend vast stretches of time immobile, where his mind is gripped in the solitary process of deduction. This is quite different. He is hesitating. At a loss for what to do. I believe it is about Jason. And whether or not to stop him or save him."

This is illustrated in two scenes later where Jason spends a long time simply watching when Jason is fighting enemies, first in a fight against Captain Nazi, and second Black Mask. Jason even gives a direct callout of that behavior.

Jason: What the hell took you so long? Couldn't decide if you wanted to let me live. Batman: Shut up and fight.

Observed by Alfred Bruce is completely stalling and can't choose, observed by Jason Bruce can't decide whether to let Jason live or not. Bruce hesitates twice. We know why. We see it in action. It's called out as flawed behavior.

Now let's cover all the tell that don't show that is Endeavor's many monologues.

Pro Hero Arc:

I have to safeguard the future for them. That's the job for whoever's on top. What about the lives I cut short? Just demanding forgiveness isn't enough, it's too late for that. At this point I need to atone there's no other route.

Hellish Todoroki Family 1:

I'm trying to make ammends going forward. It might be too late. but I fall asleep every night thinking about it. Lately it's been the same dream. The wife and the kids looking happy at the dinner table. But I'm never there with them. It might be too late but I fall asleep every night thinking about what I can do for my family. I wish you could be here too, Toya. It's always the same dream. My whole family's there but not me. If I really care how they feel [I'll remain here].

I'm not going to read 200 chapters so I'm just going to ballpark it based on memory. Here we go.

Dabi's Dance:

My eldest, Toya didn't harbor frost within him. He didn't have a way to overcome the inescapable downside of overheating but I nevertheless sought to raise the boy as a hero. [...] Because Toya had more potential than me I placed my ambitions on his shoulders. I thought it could be you. You could have been the one to reach my eternal goal. My frustration... My envy... The ugliness in my heart... you could have been the one to smash it all to dust.

Plot twist this is the only monologue I like. It's different from all the others, and it's the only one where Enji is being emotionally honest. He put the emotional burden of his own emotional insecurities on an eight year old child, and expected to live vicariously through him and when Toya failed to live up to those expectations he just abandoned him. It alligns what we have been shown so far, Enji is not acting like a reptentant man here who realizes the harm he's done to Toya and only thinks of Toya as an extension of himself and his own regrets.

The Fight Against AFO:

My mistakes took the form as Toya leading to many stolen futures. The past never dies. Rage, resentment and even penace wound together toward the future. And the future is a path for the young. A path with so many branching choices. That's why I must win this. [I'll keep paying my penance. I'll win today and keep my eyes on Toya.]

When Enji decides to double Suicide with Toya:

I take full responsibility. I swore to bear the burden and live my life atoning for it all. However, you've been watching me all this time. While I couldn't be there to watch you. You were someone I especially needed to do right by. No I can't let you meet your end alone, but I won't let anyone else get caught up in our tragedy.

Hellish Todoroki Family Final:

I came to talk about what's to come. I'm retiring as a hero. That was my initial plan even before the war started, but now I can't even walk on my own. The hero endeavor burned to death. Your flames were really stronger than mine. [...] You're right. You know everything about me, Toya. After all you were always watching me. And you wanted me to do the same for you, but I didn't. Not matter what anyone says your heat does come from my hellflame. From now on I'll come everyday, so let's talk. It's too late now, so let's talk. [...] You're free to hate me. Anything is fine really, so throw it all at me.

This one is spoken dialogue but it's still a four-page long monologue. Every one of Enji's monologues with one exceptionsays the same thing: I'm sorry, I'll spend the rest of my life atoning for my actions.

We're repeatedly told Enji is atoning but he acts like Batman. Then, his actions should be framed as Batman, not atoning but avoiding any responsibility.

As observed by Class1akids when we were discussing the update:

Everyone else faces an uphill struggle with their lives, but we should all feel sorry for Enji atoning and being in hell. I hate Hori's compulsion to over-write his abusers and over-explain their atonement. He does this with Bakugou too but with Enji it's more irritating. It was so much more enjoyable when he just wrote the thing but didn't point at them and say -> look, they are atoning. Aren't they soooo cool??

Enji's internal monologues and the other characters frame him as some sort of martyr, while on the other hand it's clear by both Batman's actions and Alfred's observations he's not acting like his usual self. In fact, this is an interpretation of Under the Red Hood that I love from the writers of the video game Arkham Knight that does a less tragic retelling of Under the Red Hood:

Batman doesn't fight victims. He saves them.

Therefore if Batman is fighting Jason, a victim, he's not acting like Batman. I'm also fine with Arkham Knight being an Under the Red Hood retelling because it's a different story. Comics do this all the time, different universe versions, popular storylines adapted into different mediums. It also works as a commentary on the original story, by showing what Batman could have done to lead to a more positive outcome it makes Batman's choices in Under the Red Hood worse and more tragic because he could have saved Jason, there was still a chance.

So here we have two flawed tragic heroes who are meant to be both pitied and condemned for their actions. One of them is all pity with no condemnation. The other is both pity and condemnation, Batman is grieving, but also he's failing his responsibility towards Jason. Therefore one protagonist works, the other fails utterly.

I'm not saying abusers don't deserve redemption. I'm not saying Enji should have died in order to atone. I'm not saying that the underlying problem with the arc is that they decided to make Enji sympathetic and a focus of the arc. The most important problem is the breaking of one of the fundamental rules of storytelling: Show, Don't Tell.

The Tragic Villain

Not only does The Hellish Todoroki Family plotline fail to make Enji a compelling protagonist, it also fails it's biggest victim. Now, these are both stories that end with the hero failing to save their victim. So if both of these stories have the same ending, why am I saying it failed Dabi, but not Jason?

Well, let me explain.

Dabi and Jason are both villains turned victims. The stories themselves are about this ambiguity. How much should the be held responsible for their own choices? If they are actively harming innocent people, then shouldn't they be stopped? Should they be automatically be forgiven just because of the pain and grief they've suffered, even if they've been causing it to others?

Both characters are also reflective of their fathers because they are too being selfish in their grief, they want their grief acknowledged and so are violently lashing out.

Jason and Dabi both make plays at being vigilantes at first, Dabi wants to inherit Stains will, and Jason Todd wants to be a better bat-man by taking control of the drug trade in Gotham and cutting crime down by executing gang heads. However, neither of them are being honest with this and it's shown through their actions, both of them abandon their original plans.

In the final showdown all Toya cares about is facing Enji on the battlefield, and when he's on the brink of death his mind erodes to the point where all he can do is scream for Enji's attention while his flames get hotter and hotter.

Let's take about Jason first and how his narrative treats him a whole lot better and more sympathetically, with more humanity than Batman. Jason is still held responsible for his choices, he is criticized by Bruce for murdering gang leaders and passing it off as justice. He's also blatantly shown to be a hypocrite. My favorite scene from Red Hood: Lost Days, the official UTRH prequel.

"I want to kill the joker in a cool way. Just sniping the Joker from a rooftop isn't dramatic enough for me."

This scene, and the final scene of UTRH underlines Jason isn't executing criminals because he believes it's the right thing to do, or because of his stated motivation that killing the joker would prevent more future victims.

Instead his every action is to set up a scenario where he makes a selfish demand of Bruce. He wants Bruce to prove to him that he would choose him over being a hero, by setting up his final scenario. Him, the Joker, and Batman. Jason will shoot the Joker. Bruce has a gun. He can either choose to let Jason kill the Joker, or kill Jason to stop him, either way it makes it clear what Bruce's priorities are.

The underlying reason for this is similiar to Bruce. Just like Bruce, Jason is deeply afraid that Batman doesn't love him. That he thinks of him as a failure. (This is Toya's main reason too).

He also interprets Bruce's failure to avenge him to mean that Bruce didn't even care enough to mourn him. If Bruce loved him enough, he'd choose him over the joker, but he's so afraid that Bruce doesn't love him enough that he's going to force Bruce to choose.

Along the way he's also going to behead several crimelords in order to put an exclamation point on that point.

The way Jason completely unravels in the confrontation shows this insecurity, he begins with monologueing about how batman should totally kill people, until his fear that he wasn't important enough, and his grief at losing his father is revealed.

Batman: I know I failed you, but I tried to save you. I'm trying to save you now. Jason: Is that what what you think this is about? Your letting me die. I don't know what clouds your judgement worse, your guilt or your antiquated sense of morality. Bruce, I forgive you for not saving me. Jason: But why on god's green earth is he still alive? Ignoring what he's done in the past. Blindly, stupidly disregarding the whole graveyards he's filled with people. The friend's he's killed. I thought killing me - that I'd be the last person you ever let him hurt. Jason: If it had been you that he beat to a bloody mess. If it had been you he left in agony. If he had taken you from this world. I would have done nothing but search the planet for this pathetic pile of evil, this death worshipping garbage, and sent him off to hell.

Direct statement, it's irresponsible of Bruce to let Joker live after killing Jason and should have put him down to prevent future victims. Reading between the lines, Batman not taking revenge for Jason is a sign that he didn't love him enough, Jason loves Batman more because he would have taken revenge.

As the confrontation continues and Jason's mental spiral worsens, to the point where he can't keep up his pretense of self-righteousness.

Jason: I'm not talking about killing cobblepot, or scarecrow, or riddled, or dent. Jason: I'm talking about him. Just him. And doing it because...he took me away from you.

The father had lost the son, and now the son had lost the father.

Jason's revenge is just a cover, for his grief at losing Bruce. I think this also shows a really positive aspect of Jason's character to humanize him instead of condemning him for his actions to ignore or even justify the suffering he endured: Jason really loves Bruce.

I mean how meaningful is the statement: "Bruce, I forgive you for not saving me."

Bruce has been afraid to hear the whole time that Jason hates him, that he won't forgive him, but Jason loves him deeply. In fact his love is almost equal to his rage because Jason is a deeply emotional person, and these little details make him human and not just like a plot obstacle that Bruce has to face. A metaphor for his past failures.

Dabi is drawn as a crying boy who wants comfort, Jason is shown to be a crying boy who wants comfort through both dialogue and action without us directly needing to be told. It's a heartbreaking line and doing it because he took me away from you and it lands perfectly because the narrative wants us to just look at Jason's grief. It doesn't add an asterisk* even though he was in pain, he's done unforgivable things that can't be justified to undercut Jason's suffering.

In fact that might be another underlying problem with The Hellish Todoroki Family, the narrative tries too hard to make you feel a certain way instead of just presenting things as they are to make you come to your own conclusion. UTRH doesn't support Jason's revenge based serial killing of villains. It doesn't say he's justified to cut off the heads of mobsters. However, it doesn't excessively state "Well, I'm really sorry what happened to you but what you've done can't be forgiven" so we don't have to challenge ourselves to feel too much empathy for Jason's suffering.

Meanwhile even when Toya tries to express his rightful anger and grief, we're always met with someone shutting him down and saying well yeah, but you're wrong, involving innocent people is unforgivable.

As said by @stillness-in-green in the replies to this post:

I think so much harm (in-universe, but the state of the Twitter fandom makes me think the messages are pretty toxic irl, too) comes out of portraying the Heroes as needing to weigh in on the *morality* of the Villains' actions before they gauge "saving" them, when that is not a thing that glorified cops have any business thinking they have the right to do. Demanding repentance before the rehab is so bizarre.

You can say someone's actions are wrong without using it as a factor to consider whether or not their suffering as a human being should be acknowledged, and like I said there's multiple instances of people just yelling at Toya how immoral he is instead of addressing the elephant in the room.

You're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong.

(Okay, I understand that some people have interpreted this as a show of Honnae and Tatamae, the Todoroki's who are a very repressed household are finally talking about their feelings even if those feelings are selfish and ugly).

(I'm not criticizing Shoto for saying that the people he killed were his own choice necessarily, Shoto is a character who's actions need to be read more deeply than his words he was dedicated to bringing Dabi down without him burning himself any further start to finished. My criticism lies in the fact that Hori uses Shoto as a mouth piece because he thinks we need to be reminded that murder is bad).

However, even acknowledging that time and place man, time and place. They couldn't have done that in the aftermath, when Toya isn't burning to death?

Hey buddy, you're being selfish.

Toya: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I'M MELTING, I'M MELTING.

This is I feel the underlying problem with the way the arc is written, not because the Todorokis are a very traditional Japanese family and there are cultural reasons they express their emotions differently, I'll give a caveat to that it's a nuance I might not understand.

However, I am arguing the actual problem is tell don't show. Horikoshi thinks that we as an audience need to be told multiple times that murder is bad, and we cannot be trusted to interpret that on our own.

Under the Red Hood shows both sides of Batman and Jason's debate, and let's us just come to the conclusion that Jason is in the wrong because revenge isn't justice. Horikoshi reaches no shit sherlock levels of telling us that we're not supposed to approve of Dabi's murders.

it's also a matter of giving Dabi narrative space to express his feelings, like every time Dabi tries to talk he is continually shut down (Shoto does engage Dabi talk to him and listen to why he didn't come back though I'll give him that) and it seems to be to push forward this weird idea that you shouldn't sympathize with the pain Dabi has endured or the ways he's dehumanized unless he does something to prove he deserves to be treated like a human being first.

Jason gets to monologue and make an entire argument, and his argument also shows the depths of his love for Bruce and what a deeply feeling person he is, and how those feelings being hurt and twisted could logically lead to his lashing out.

Compare this to Dabi who doesn't get a final monologue, but is instead reduced to a completely mindless state where he just cries out for his dad's attention. He doesn't get to make his argument.

Jason and Dabi both choose to blow themselves up, but Jason gets enough character agency to show this is a deliberate choice he's making even if it's the wrong one. He retains his character agency and ability to make decisions until the end of the narrative.

Jason's also you know physically crying. The end result of the narrative is about wrong choices that both Bruce and Jason make together, and then suffer the consequences together. Bruce watches the same failure play out again and he isn't able to save Jason, Jason doesn't get what he wants, he doesn't get revenge and he doesn't get to reunite with his father. It's tragic for both of them, and brought about by decisions both of them made.

Whereas yes Dabi makes a lot of bad decisions leading up to the last war arc, but in the end his final fate is up to a choice Enji made to not face Toya in the final battle.

However, while the final consequence of the battle is brought about more by Enji's decisions than Toya's, it's Toya who endures all the suffering and punishment. It's Toya who is in an iron coffin, and doomed to slowly and agonizingly die with all of his skin burnt off unable to move. Toya doesn't even get agency after the arc is over. Enji still has a wheelchair, Enji can still move around, Enji's still fucking rich, he's not in prison for his actions, he as Rei wheeling him around.

Toya's agency and choices are all taken from him, presumably to serve the plot purpose of making Enji save him to finish off his arc, and then ENJI DOESN'T EVEN SAVE HIM.

Also I think it's important to mention, Bruce's tragic ending is brought about by him attempting to save both, trying to save the joker and Jason with the same action. Whereas Enji's tragic ending is brought about by Enji NOT LIFTING A FUCKING FINGER TO HELP. Yet, it's Dabi who has the lion's share of suffering, and is sentenced to this horrific state of being skinless in an iron coffin and only being able to be awake a few minutes a day with no choice but to waste away.

Bruce is also immediately called out for his actions, by the Joker of all people, you handled this all wrong, it's your fault. Bruce is right to not kill the joker, killing the Joker would not have solved any of Jason's problems, but the fact that he put off facing Jason for so long, and his inability to communicate that he loves Jason is what leads to Jason thinking that the only way to prove Bruce loves him is to force him to choose. It's because Bruce has utterly failed to show him in any other way that he is loved.

Joker: Oh my god, I love it! You manage to find a way to win, and everyone still loses. I'm going to be the one who gets what he wants tonight, badda bing, badda boom."

I'd also like to add that a lot of agency in Enji's actions are taken away too, to make him look more blameless. It's not Enji's fault that he didn't say anything to Dabi during Dabi's dance, he passed out because he had a punctured lung. It's not Enji's fault that he spent a month protecting Deku instead of searching for Toya, he had to protect innocent people. It's not Enji's fault that he didn't go immediately to face Toya in the final war arc Hawks told him not to.

It's not Enji's fault that he made Shoto and Toya fight like Pokemon instead of cleaning up his own mess, and also he feels really sorry for it and as soon as he's done punching the bad guy he'll look after Toya he promises.

Enji does get called out for this behavior but it falls flat because it only comes from the villain AFO, and Toya himself. As I stated above too, the ending is more influenced by Enji's actions not Toya's (because Toya's agency is stripped away until he's mindless) but Toya is the one who has to die while Enji gets to live and atone.

That is the real sticking point for The Hellish Todoroki Family, the way it ends.

Themes Are For Eight Graders

The underlying problem with the whole arc and why The Hellish Todoroki Family fails as a tragedy, is because it wasn't written to be a tragedy.

The above quote is from an interview with the writers of the widely hated Game of Thrones Season 8, which took a sudden tragic turn for Dany's character, gave her an incredibly dehumanizing ending of being put down like a rabid dog by her own lover, an ending that was neither foreshadowed nor did it match with anything written before.

In this meta here by @hamliet it goes far more into depth that Game of Thrones isn't a tragedy, but a piece of Romantic fiction (not a love story, Romanticism is a genre of big emotions, the beauty of life, larger than life ideas hence why it fits well with fantasy genre, it can be sad but it doesn't follow tragic structure).

Dany is a romantic heroine, a deconstruction of the idea of the classic warrior princess trope, and you know a colonizer, but she's not meant to be written as an inherently bad person. There are people who say that Dany was going to die in the original books. I'm one of those people. Me. However, context and framing matters, Dany for all her colonizing ways does genuinely want to do the right thing, so it's likely she'd die a heroic death as a reflection of her selfless intentions (and intentions do matter for fictional characters) whereas in the show she's put down as a villain.

Now watch me I'm going to coin a term for future literary critics to use: Narrative Gaslighting.

Narrative gaslighting is different then Show Don't Tell, where an author has just failed to properly show what they're trying to tell you in the story. Narrative Gaslighting is when a narrative deliberately tries to mislead you, straight up lies to you, or just insists things that did not happen totally happened guys. Much like real gaslighting, Narrative Gaslighting makes you feel stupid for interpreting things a certain way and insists you were wrong all along.

Narrative gaslighting is when Tyrian gives a speech that everyone should have suspected Dany when she burned slavers alive that she was secretly evil and would one day turn on them.

Like, no.

Dany is flawed because she is a foreigner, interfering with the politics of a different country that she does not understand in order to gain enough resources and men to return to her home country and invade that country to exercise her right as a Targeryn to uphold the divine right of kings.

Game of Thrones doesn't mention any of that shit that's in alignment with the previous actions in the story, it's just insisting the very ableist notion that Dany was insane all along and her violence towards other people is the result of her mental illness.

(Also before anyone says, so if she's a colonizer than how can she have good intentions, everyone is Bad in Game of Thrones, they're all waging war to vie for a throne, monarchy is bad guys. IDK how to tell you that Game of Thrones has gray on gray on gray on gray morality).

(Also this aside ties into the hangup of MHA and most popular fandom culture on Twitter, that Dany's moral failings somehow disqualify her from her humanity. In spite of the fact that on top of all of that she's a rape victim, and like, Dany's only on that continent in the first place because she was sold as a bride.)

But here's the same weird subtext that Horikoshi's writing of Dabi. The fact that Dabi was continually victimized and denied human dignity does not need to be addressed, because he did the bad things and didn't atone properly enough for it first.

In essence this random post on the gunnerkrigg court forums I found on the same day the chapter came out, displaying apollo's gift of prophecy.

"When someone is persecuted, it's important to inform everyone about their flaws. That way you don't have to feel anything about all the times that they were denied human dignity."

So, Dany is not written as a tragic hero but a romantic one, we as an audience are both meant to acknowledge her flaws and sympathize with her, not demonize her in an ableist way for being insane, and even if Dany is meant to die the tragic way she dies does not match up with all of the narrative foreshadowing that was built before that.

Like, for instance a lot of POC after the show ended kept telling everyone that Dany's actions in a foreign country were seriously problematic, and not only did the audience not listen but the showwiters didn't acknowledge it with the same subtlety as the books. So those people especially were able to pick up Dany's character flaws, and when the show finally acknowledged them it's not even in the way that critiques of the show were pointing out Dany's flaws it was just "she was insane all along." Not like taking time to go "no matter what the intention, interfering with the politics of a foreign country is wrong."

The problem with the Todoroki arc is essentially the same, down to the ableism (because outsiders continually call Dabi either a maniac or insane Demon without even giving credence to his grievances about hero society he's just reduced to an insane fringe element of society, and Dabi himself is reduced to a completely mindless, childish, insane screaming state where he can't make active decisions).

The Todoroki Arc is not set up to us as a tragic one. The ending is pretty clearly telegraphed to the whole audience. People are not wrong for thinking that Toya's ending would be either rehabilitation like Rei with the eventual hope of being welcomed home, or some kind of house arrest where he still gets to be with his family.

Everyone happy at the Dinner table and Enji not sitting with them.

"I wish you could be here, Toya."

"We all have to go stop, Toya."

"In that case, I'll make him sit down for a bowl with me."

Even Shoto's efforts to take down Toya non-lethally are rendered completely pointless, because Toya gets back up again and then burns himself alive (completely by his own choice so no one has to feel bad that they failed).

The story sets up the expectation that Toya is going to be brought home and sit down for a meal with his family. Then it makes you feel stupid for going in an entirely different direction. It was always going to end this way didn't you know The Todorokis are a tragedy?

Well, I just spent a very long section of this thesis statement illustrating that if it's supposed to be a tragedy, then it's still not written well.

It's a written as a romantic story of a family healing, and the villain getting saved, only for the villain not to be saved and the story to just keep on going like not getting saved isn't a huge failure. This is something that should permanently destroy the main characters, that they got the chance to repeat Sekoto peak and be there this time and they all utterly failed. I feel bad for Shoto most of all because he did everything right, and he still loses his brother, but does the story show that?

The problem is the story is blatantly lying to you about the fact that Toya was somehow saved, even though he LITERALLY LOOKS LIKE HELLRAISER. To quote Codenamesanzanka again:

But I feel the story couldn't give us that because it will remind the reader and everyone just how much Touya will be missing. In-story, talking any more will overburden Touya's heart - and how apt is that metaphor? So let's talk about how we'll talk, but that's all that's allowed here for this scene. Else we'll see how unfair it is that Touya has to be confined to this room, he isn't with his family and they have to come to this prison just to tell him about their day, and soon he will be gone. Details make it real, and it would've exposed the lie that Touya was saved in an actual way. The story knows it too - "this extra time Shouto gave us." This is all 'extra', and not the core. [...] If the story was sincere that this is a case of "it's simply too late" - as it should be!!! imo, to really drive in the clear point that they failed, they did not get the save they wanted, because that's the truth - the tone of the chapter isn't tragic enough for that. The tone is going for 'Making Peace With This'. We've skipped the stages of grief and all we have is acceptance. The characters have accepted this, and so must the readers as well.

Therefore it's narrative gaslighting, the story is making us doubt our perceptions and trying instead to manipulate us to feel a certain way. We don't have to question the unfairness of Toya's fate, because look at all the people he's hurt, and look how Enji is atoning and taking responsibility.

The story builds up the idea that Enji will choose Toya. That he will choose being a father over being a hero. Enji doesn't do that, and it's Toya who suffers the horrific, painful consequences while Enji gets off mostly scott free. Mind you it's also ableist to suggest that being in a wheelchair is some sort of life-ending consequence like he's fine. The story even goes out of its way to say how avoidable this ending could have been if Enji or Rei or someone lifted a single finger to give Toya the acknowledgement he wanted, and then gives it a "Too little, Too Late" conclusion but doesn't acknowledge that this is where it's ending and instead tells us that Enji has successfully atoned.

"Everyone's watching me. So this is what it's like. If it was such a simple thing, then why not sooner?"

If it was going to turn out this way Toya should have just died here, not because death would somehow be a mercy compared to life in prison, but because the Todoroki Family doesn't deserve to get to pat themselves on the back. If they let Sekoto Peak happen a second time, then they should have to deal with the consequences of that.

It would be consistent is my point. This is written as a "Too Little, Too Late" kind of ending, but we don't get the emotional response from the Todorokis that they've let Toya die a second time.

On the other hand, UTRH has the exact same tragic ending but it doesn't make me angry because it's honest about it. The Todorokis let Sekoto peak happen a second time. Batman let Death in the Family happen a second time, but look at how even the narration and comic panels of the story acknowledge it.

"Fate is a funny thing. It swells up like a raging current and we are forced to travel. It provides us no exit. No deviation. It drops us in a bottomless ocean and compels us. We either swim, or drown, and sometimes as we struggle against the tide, a great truth arises."

One ends with Enji meaninglessly stating that he'll spend the rest of his life atoning for Toya and watching over him (which I guess will be like two months tops) for the fifth time. The other ends with Batman being lectured by the Joker of all people of how he chose wrong and being forced to watch once again as a warehouse blows up, and he's completely helpless to save Jason.

UTRH ends with the message that Batman sucks, Enji's atonement arc ends with Natsuo calling him cool for atoning and UTRH makes me like Batman way more as a character. Whereas at this point I feel nothing from the Todoroki Family, except for a disgust for the way that Toya not only has to die, but has to die a slow, gruesome death while the rest of his family walks away with the small comfort of "oh at least we'll get to say what we need to say before Toya passes."

Especially with the fact that Toya's greatest fear was that when he died, he died meaninglessly because his family never grieved him and all moved on with their life. I guess we don't have to analyze how gross the underlying message that criminals don't deserve to be sympathized with because themes are for eighth graders.

EPILOGUE

The post is finished but apparently everyone expects me to cover every single possible angle even in posts this long.

You didn't address the cultural aspect. Under the Red Hood is a western story, and Todoroki Family is based on eastern concepts.

The post isn't about that. The post is long enough I can't cover every single topic. Here's someone who covered that topic thoroughly. This one discusses more about the nuances of collectivism.

Also, since the Todoroki Family obviously copied Under the Red Hood's homework, it warrants a comparison. Especially since it seems to critically misunderstand what made the original work.

Which is a valid form of Literary Criticism, as Ursula K Le Guinn once said:

 It doesn’t occur to the novice that a genre is a genre because it has a field and focus of its own; its appropriate and particular tools, rules, and techniques for handling the material; its traditions; and its experienced, appreciative readers—that it is, in fact, a literature. Ignoring all this, our novice is just about to reinvent the wheel, the space ship, the space alien, and the mad scientist, with cries of innocent wonder. The cries will not be echoed by the readers. Readers familiar with that genre have met the space ship, the alien, and the mad scientist before. They know more about them than the writer does.

The Todorkis aren't all to blame for Toya. Natsu, Fuyumi and Shoto are innocent:

You're right. It's just easier to refer them as the Todorokis then specifying "Enji and Rei" each time.

You didn't mention Shoto once in this post:

I have no cricism for Shoto's role in all this. In fact I think he's the best written part. I praise it here.

Shoto is a good boy, and he deserved to spend more time with his brother. The fact he won't be able to sit down and have dinner of him, is the greatest tragedy of them all.

[zafirosreverie]

Call the exorcist (Agatha x F!Reader)

For @roseclear

a/n: I haven't watch the show, I just know the basics, so sorry for any plot mistakes.

Spoilers for the ending

______________

Your life was chaotic. From the moment you met that damn charming, chaotic and slightly evil (well, very evil) witch, your whole world did a 180.

From one day to the next, magic was not only something possible, but little by little, it became something common in your life. Something you got so used to that you thought nothing could surprise you anymore.

Rule number one of being married to a witch: Agatha Harkness can always surprise you.

You weren't stupid, you knew she didn't tell you absolutely everything, that there were parts of her past she would never tell you, that they were completely buried and she planned to keep them that way. Not that it bothered you, if you were honest. 300 years of life had to have hard moments, and you decided that you wouldn't push her any further than she felt comfortable sharing you.

Still, that damn woman always managed to give you gray hairs, and you were sure that one of these days she would put you in an early grave. But you still loved her, more than life itself.

______________

The first scare was when she disappeared to go to Westview. You had a hard time getting in touch with her, and she only gave you a hasty and poorly structured explanation about chaos magic before sending you back home.

A week later, Maximoff's escape and what she had done to the town was reported on the news. You came back as quickly as you could, but you couldn't do anything. You were forced to watch your wife live as Agnes for 3 years, powerless and weak to bring her back.

Then the boy showed up. Billy Maximoff, or at least a variant of him? A reincarnation? The truth was that you didn't quite understand, nor did you care. The only important thing was that Agatha was back. And with her, chaos. Of course.

God forbid you have a second of peace with your wife.

The coven, Rio, Billy, everything was too confusing, too much for your mortal mind to understand in all the details how quickly the situation was changing, and Agatha, in the middle of it all, the central pillar, was not much help.

You knew she didn't tell you everything, but that she had gotten involved with death or that she had a child should have been some of the things she could have tell you, right? At least you thought that something like that should be important enough to tell her new wife.

You hadn't even finished assimilating all that when your witch, always chaotic and without explanations, kissed Rio, lady death, to save Billy. You didn't even have time to say goodbye to her, or to assimilate that, just like that, from one moment to the next, you had become a widow.

You didn't think you had known greater pain in your life. Knowing that your wife, the woman you loved, as imperfect, chaotic and evil as she was, was no longer there, broke your heart. You couldn't even stay there for long, you went back home as soon as you could, desperate that everything was a damn nightmare, that when you opened your eyes, Agatha would be there, with that infuriating but beautiful smile that you loved so much, ready for a new chaos.

But no matter how many times you woke up, reality was still there. Agatha was dead, you were alone. And your wife wasn't coming back.

_______________

…until she did.

________________

You calmly stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to wash away the stress of the day, the worries and sorrows. You allowed yourself to close your eyes and focus for a moment on the feeling of the water against your skin, the warmth of the steam and-

"AGATHA!!!" you screamed as you jumped up, and your wife still had the nerve to laugh.

It had been less than a week since Agatha Harkness had come back into your life, ready to turn it upside down again. At first, you thought you had finally lost your mind (sometimes you still thought that it was the case, to be honest), when the ghost of your dead wife appeared in the middle of the living room.

However, in true Agatha fashion, she began to cause all kinds of mischief around the house, moving things around, disarranging things, and giving you those damn kisses that you still couldn't decide if you loved or not. And that was all you needed to know that yes, your wife was back. In the form of a pile of ectoplasm with too much time on her hands and too eager to take you to the grave too, but she was back.

"Come on sweetie, you can't blame me" she laughed, floating closer to you "you know I've never been able to resist your…charms"

You shivered as her fingers, cold and not quite physical, ran down your lower back. Before you could protest, Agatha kissed you deeply. Kisses with her were very strange now, to say the least.

Not that they bothered you, you just still had to get used to the feeling of kissing an ice cube that you couldn't really touch but was at the same time as real as yourself. You never imagined kissing a ghost, but here you were, proving once again how much you loved this woman even in death.

"You're a menace" you said as she pulled away

"But I'm your menace" she smirked

"…we said 'till death do us part', why are you still here?" you crossed your arms, covering your naked body a little

"Oh darling" she laughed and caressed your cheek with those icy fingers "it's cute how you really thought death would rid you of me. No, my love, you're mine, in this and every life after"

Something in her tone and the way her ghostly fingers gripped your chin, told you that she really planned to keep that promise. And you couldn't help but smile.

"That's cute, my love" you said "…but get out of my shower right now"

"Oh come on" she laughed "I've seen you how tou came into the world many times"

"Agatha!" you shivered as you felt her icy fingers on your lower back again

"Yes?" She smiled like the Cheshire Cat

"I love you" you said "but if you don't let me take A FUCKING SHOWER IN PEACE, I'M GOING TO CALL A PRIEST AND EXORCISE THE DAMN HOUSE!!"

And of course, that damn beautiful, charming, chaotic and slightly evil (well, very evil) witch that you loved more than life itself, had the nerve to laugh.

[dollishbabess]

batboys hcs with a architect s/o and how she’s so talented into architecture and critics places they go too for fun?? 😭😭 your writing is so fucking amazing omg (please write more)

‘THIS PLACE COULD USE A EXTRA… SHINE’ ── .✦ DOLLISH

a/n: this made me laugh so hard because I’M MAJORING IN ARCHITECTURE RN in college and it’s so funny receiving this but yeah literally tysmm and I will be like refreshing my ‘page’ if it makes sense so I’ll writing more often from now on so get ready.

Tags: batboys x architect!fem!reader

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Dick is amazed by your architectural skills and loves to hear you talk about your designs and the inspiration behind them. He’s always asking you for design tips for his own living space in Blüdhaven asking if you can spice his furniture in his apartment and etc.

When the two of you go on dates or to art exhibits, Dick is the type to listen to your critiques and try to pick up on architectural details, though he’s more likely to focus on the overall vibe of the place than technical elements. He loves hearing how you appreciate places that balance form and function.

One of his favorite things is visiting old, historic buildings or new constructions with you and asking your opinion on how they’ve been designed. He’ll even take notes when you go on architectural tours. (You once joked that the ceiling of a museum looked like it was gonna topple on someone and you swear you saw him tense up so fast moving a few inches from you)

JASON TODD ── .✦

Jason is the most curious about your work, wanting to know every detail about how buildings are designed and what makes them stand out. He’ll often ask about the story behind a particular structure or the challenges faced in a project (he’s just a curious boy🥺🥺)

When you’re out and about, Jason can be pretty critical too, especially about how places are put together. If a building seems impractical or poorly designed (like small stalls for bathrooms and just that shitty nonsense), he’ll express his frustration, and you’ll be right there with him offering insightful critiques. You both tend to agree on bad urban planning and laugh about it.

He’ll enjoy taking you to abandoned warehouses or old buildings in Gotham to test your architectural knowledge. Sometimes, you both challenge each other to design something better or fix up a dilapidated structure together.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim is very impressed by your intellect and the level of detail you put into your architectural designs. He admires how you view the world through the lens of space, function, and beauty.

Tim loves to dive into deep architectural discussions, analyzing how places are structured. He might even pull out his phone to look up blueprints or information about buildings while you're at a location, appreciating the design choices. He enjoys debating the merits of modern architecture versus classic styles with you.

Tim would likely plan visits to art museums or landmarks that have a rich history of architectural design. He’d love to hear your thoughts on every building and structure, and he’ll probably surprise you by arranging a private tour with an expert in architecture.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce doesn’t show much outward enthusiasm about your work, but it’s clear that he values your opinion. He appreciates your attention to detail, especially when it comes to Gotham’s urban design. He’s likely to ask for your advice when dealing with the renovations or restoration of the Wayne estate or other properties.

Bruce is very into efficiency and functionality. When you critique a building, he’ll listen intently and agree with your assessments if they make sense, especially when it comes to practicality. He appreciates your ability to separate the aesthetic from the real-world needs of a space.

Bruce might take you to visit some of Gotham’s oldest buildings, showing you around his favorite spots. He values your perspective and loves seeing the city through your eyes, especially when you point out potential improvements. He’s also secretly proud of your talent and often encourages you to push boundaries with your designs.

@dollishbabess made by me, do not translate or copy or put on a different platform.

Second divider @cafekitsune

[keepingsecretstokeepyoutk]

This is going to be very long and sound a little crazy at first, and maybe a little mean but please hear me out…

I’m convinced that Taylor sometimes purposefully includes one line or multiple lines of poorly written or clunky lyrics in specific songs to make a point.

We all have seen some version of this with bearding songs like London Boy, a simple bop whose lyrics were immediately detected as sounding disingenuous, even with the general population (the locations she was signing about were the most touristy and too far away from each other to visit on the same day, etc, basically implying that she doesn’t actually have a long term local bf there that she spends a bunch of time with exploring the city with, etc).

But just like everything else on the album, I think she’s doing maybe a more in your face version of that. No holds barred.

So High School is an obvious example of this, with all of the early 2000’s hs imagery, she seems pretty blatantly to be mocking the idea the public has of her “living out every American girl’s high school fantasy” of dating the tall popular football player. With lyrics like “touch me while your friends play grand theft auto” (barf), etc, shes being clear enough that this is not a serious song.

This is the possibly controversial part, but I’m so curious to see what others think about this - I think another iteration of this on this album is the title track, The Tortured Poets Department. Hear me out.

(First, I want to reassure you that there are lines in this song that I really like and think are well written, like: “you’re in self-sabotage mode/throwing spikes down on the road” and “but you awaken with dread/pounding nails in your head/but I’ve read this one/where you come undone/I chose this cyclone with you”. And I fully agree with the idea that these sentiments are from Karlie’s perspective. Basically, when you take out the chunks I’m about to talk about this song makes way more sense and has a beautiful sentiment of undying love behind it - which makes the following parts stick out that much more!)

The first time I listened through the album, and this was the second song, I got terrified because I didn’t understand its place in the whole narrative and when I heard the first clunky line “scratch your head like a tattooed golden retriever” I got the ick. Then the bridge with no structure and no wit and no clever turns of phrase, no metaphor, just “you put my ring on the finger people put wedding rings on” and “that was the closest I’ve ever been to my heart exploding”. So over simplified and cheesy, and doesn’t sound anything like her writing, especially the caliber of her recent lyrics

I know art is largely subjective, but I insist there is no way that the same person who wrote Cowboy Like Me wrote these lines into her title track if she didn’t have a reason and a point to make. To make it clear that this isn’t a matter of genre personal taste, because I know CLM is a very specific sound and a style that music snobs often take more seriously - I love SO many of her candy pop bangers, they are infinitely more clever, articulate, and overall works of art by a true wordsmith than this. Karma, The Very First Night, etc are all a master classes in clever words and tight writing being tucked into an “unserious” pop song.

The lyrics I cited above to me sound like what haters believe her writing sounds like, even fans who make little jokey TikTok’s about her and make up a spoofy something to sing while in character - that’s what these lyrics sound like.

Im worried im being too harsh, but please stay with me because the more I think about the more genius I think it actually is.

In the context of the themes of rest of the album, (her being trapped, miserable, manipulated, ready to burn it all down, screaming to be seen) this theory became clear to me. I think she’s leaning into her public persona (in more ways than one, we’ve already seen it with the stunting), in a way setting a “trap” for her fans and the public, that will essentially call them all out on how they ignored the real her in favor of her pr narrative, making the album about paternity tests, etc, all of which I’m guessing will become very clear in retrospect, possibly after she comes out? (Of course it’s already clear to us now, which is another purpose of the beard songs including clunky writing - to signal to us that these are not serious and that she knows that we know that she knows (like Phoebe on friends lol))

Ultimately, this is (along with So Highschool) a classic beard song. When she writes in this voice, she embodies the most extreme versions of her public persona, not just the one she has cultivated on purpose, but also the one that people have of her that don’t know her (as she did in Blank Space), including those that don’t take her seriously - because her identity as a boy crazy psycho ex girlfriend is directly tied to people dismissing her art as vapid because, they’ve only ever heard her singles, they don’t know the full her.

That voice is the straightest, the most boy crazy, the most one note, and sometimes the most unsophisticated writer version of her that people have in their minds, including her fans - the fans that refuse to see her as a whole person, the real, that believe she is head over heals for big football boy, that believe “he knows how to ball, I know Aristotle” is a romantic line about how opposites attract, the fans that say they don’t “get” some of her most beautiful and well-written songs, the fans that don’t see her and haven’t been seeing her.

They didn’t see giant Taylor on the eras tour, they refuse to see all of her queer signaling, etc, and I think she’s making the bearding songs obvious to underscore the difference between her Taylor(TM) and Taylor(person) personas.

She knows that despite the fact that the lyrics don’t even come close to measuring up to the rest of the album, the public, and many of her fans, will make this song one of the most listened to simply because they are looking for evidence of her relationships from the past year. We’ve all commented on how insane it is that this layered, complex, devastating album is being reduced to the usual paternity tests. This is currently one of the top songs precisely because it is “about Matty”. And of course, So High School is one of the tops songs along with it because it’s “about Travis”.

The juxtaposition of the bearding songs alongside her beautifully written poetry of Prophecy, Peter, Whose Afraid of Little Old Me, Cassandra, How did it end, The Albatross, etc mirrors the juxtaposition of her two selves during the Midnights era.

She has proven the point that if they think she wrote every line of this song completely in earnest, then they see her largely no differently than her haters do, as a subpar writer who writes absurdly cheesy love songs praising trashy to mediocre, problematic men. By eating it up they tell her that’s what she’s good for, for being the subject of tabloids and warring fans who make this entire album about two (purposefully) mediocre songs and the men who “inspired” them.

She has proven her point - that a subset of her fans will be distracted by a lesser song simply because they think it’s about one of the greasy men that’s she been seen holding hands with. That they will ignore once again all of her pleas to be seen, that she’s in pain and caged, and has been driven insane by their willful ignorance. That they don’t appreciate her full potential and talent, that they don’t even see it, and just want to be confirmed in their ideation of her.

This song is essentially the “forget him(her)” pill at the beginning of the fortnight mv, but it’s a sedative for the fans, who are addicted to her straight narrative. Similar to Willow’s 13 chants of “that’s my man” that started off evermore, casting a spell of heteronormativity over everyone who wanted it, so that they could choose to just completely ignore the following 14 gayest songs ever written. Don’t pay no mind to her singing directly about women with zero male perspective - she said “that’s my man!” We’re good! She’s still straight!

Taylor in the fortnight mv had to a take a sedative to be able to go into the next room and write her bearding songs - ie she self medicates to deal with keeping up the straight persona and to get through having to release dumbed down songs to feed the masses. (I also see the pill as something forced on her, I think it represents both layers)

From the first time I watched the music video I thought the writing Taylor looked so miserable and the bearding songs are why.

In this room she’s trapped, churning out the songs that her fans expect of her, the songs that make her team money, the songs that make her money, but that she has to compromise her truth to create.

But when she frees herself she’ll burn the stories that weren’t true, the filler that doesn’t represent her.

I’m curious to hear other’s thoughts on this - have you ever felt like Taylor purposefully inserts off-sounding lyrics that are written in a different voice to make a point?

I want to reiterate that it’s not the entirety of either song that I think is terrible, I genuinely love bopping along to both So High School and TTPD (track). Like I said above, when you remove the clunky lines from ttpd (track), the song has another layer and likely gives voice to some Karlie insight that is beautiful and tragically profound. It’s the red herrings, the pieces specifically meant to tie this song to a bearding narrative, that I’m dissing, and the only reason they are suspicious in the first place is because I know how gifted Taylor is with the written word.

Taylor is such a skilled writer that she can embody the voice of the bad writer that dismissive ignorant idiots believe her to be, just to make a point!

I even wonder if maybe there is a second version of this song locked away in one of those drawers in the fortnight writing room that leaves out the red herrings and is a thousand times better than the bearding version we got.

I hope one day we get to hear it.

[eclipse-has-come]

— John Price Imagine

Thinking about John Price being a victorian era gentleman that died young and owning an antique shop in a building that used to belong to him (he's haunting it).

Warnings: Kinda stalking? "He's a ghost living with you and you don't believe that he exists so he watches you go about your day" kind of stalking so if you're uncomfortable with that, you're welcome to sit this one out.

A/N: Hello everyone! It's my first post on here and i still don't really get tumblr so some things might look a bit weird. I have not written in so long I might as well have forgotton how to do so but I had this dream the other day and i had to write it down because omg it made me feral. Disclaimer, I am not a native english speaker and i have no beta reader so if there are any mistakes, I do apologize!

Anyway, enough about stuff you don't care about, enjoy this short imagine based on my dream!

You finished up your degree not too long ago and your neverending search for a job keeps going nowhere. Everyday you would submit your cv to at least 5 different employers and most of the time, you only received an answer from one. Every interview you managed to snag was a miracle in and of itself. Too bad those didn't go anywhere either.

Everyday while going to your bus stop, you'd see an old victorian building. While once upon a time It would have been a beautiful structure, now it's only a shadow of it's former self. When you first passed the vintage store-front while walking back from yet another failed interview, you payed little to no attention to the dilapitated bricks. That was until you got back to your flat one day and realized it reminded you of an old antique shop you used to visit back home.

Back then it was run by a kind elderly lady, who would always give you old toys that didn't sell well, you recall fondly. Back then younger you was fully convinced that your future was to one day run an antique store just like that.

It should've been just an ordinary morning but the day after you reminisced about the antique shop, something strange happened. While walking your usual route, you noticed with the corner of your eye a man standing on the stairs leading up to the entrance of the victorian building. You ignored him at first (no use in getting involved), until you saw him walk inside- no, phase inside the building.

You honestly didn't even register what had happened until you were walking back home, passing the cursed building yet again. You stopped in front of the entrance, resignation filling you, whatever demon wanted you to check out this poor lump of bricks and giving you weird visions in the process, it had won. Walking up the stairs, you spotted a lone flyer posted on the door:

"FOR SALE"

Underneath the large words was a poorly scratched on number that you could barely make out. That evening you sat on your couch, debating whether to call or not. If you were being honest with yourself, you were running out of options fast and growing more and more desperate by the hour. You sighed heavily and entered the number into your phone.

The cheap price should have been the first red flag, the previous owner claimed it was haunted and "wanted to be rid of the headache as soon as possible" or so they said. When you first entered the inside, you were in absolute awe, It was beautifully adorned with carved patterns, seemingly transporting you back in time.

An apartment was located on the second floor of the building, adding to the convenience of this inexpensive investment. The large display windows were eye catching and even though the building could use a lot bit of work, you could already see just how incredible it would look. Well, you always were a fan of fixer-uppers.

During your diy renovations however, some strange occurrences started to catch your attention. At first it was nothing out of the ordinary, a floorboard creaking (it is a very old building after all) or maybe a box falling over (shouldn’t have packed so much!) but then it starts getting harder and harder to ignore.

Paint splashes on the wall with the bucket it belonged to on the other side of the room, cracks in the window appearing overnight etc. You truly didn’t believe in the paranormal and when the previous owner warned you, you ignored it, waving it off as some guy's crazy talk but this was becoming a little too hard to scientifically explain.

Even still, you powered through, pointedly ignoring any and all warning signs. However annoying these inconveniences were, they weren't truly malicious. No harm ever came to you nor the antiques you got and by the time the store was ready to open, you could only sigh in relief. All of the blood, sweat and tears you poured into this project finally paid off, your younger self would have gone ballistic if they saw you now.

Walking through the aisles filled with old trinkets, admiring their unique charm and the way they looked on the hand-built shelves. You sincerely hoped the next owners would appreciate them just as much as you.

Opening day was incredibly exciting, you were certainly not expecting the amount of people coming to see the new store. Turns out the previous owner was well known in the community, ("The building was passed down through generations!" One lady told you while admiring the ornamental chandelier you installed.) which made many residents eager to meet the next unlucky owner.

What pleased you most of all, is that all unusual situations ceased or at the very least, you stopped noticing them. Which would be understandable, a week into opening and the store was full of hustle and bustle. It truly warmed your heart to see that others treated these unusual objects with as much reverence as you held for them. If there really was a ghost here, then they must agree that what you'd done for the place was for the better, you giggled to yourself.

You turned the ‘closed’ sign around just as the clock struck six on Saturday evening. Even though you're beyond happy the whole store thing worked out, you can't deny that you're incredibly tired. Who knew constant social interaction and standing all day would cause you to want to curl up in your bed all sunday. Walking towards the stairs leading to your apartment, you observed the half-empty shelves, a satisfied huff leaving your lungs. Walking up the creaking stairs, you noted down in your brain to put some paintings on the plain staircase.

Entering the old flat you tiredly trudged through the still unorganised rooms (almost all of your time was spent on the downstairs of the building, your living space was just an afterthought during the renovations), you entered the bathroom to take a long scalding shower. Due to your tiredness however, you failed to notice the near silent footsteps following you.

After several minutes of nearly boiling yourself to relax, you step out of the shower. Careful not to slip, you reach for your softest towel. ‘You worked really hard and now you could finally pamper yourself’ you decided. With your mind set, you turn over to the mirror ready to start your skincare routine when you suddenly freeze in your tracks.

On the steamed up mirror, a short sentence managed to make you reconsider your opinion on the paranormal up until this point. Written in neat letters and gorgeous handwriting, there it was:

"Hello Darling"

[spiderfreedom]

my suffering is profound and legitimate, yours is frivolous nonsense

Just reading a blogger I like but I had to laugh because she was talking about how beauty practices are bad for women's mental health, and she left a note saying "unlike gender affirming care! gender affirming care improves people's mental health and it's nothing at all like cosmetic practices."

TIL, when an older woman gets botox to remove her wrinkles and avoid facing the inevitability of decline and death, her problem is spiritual/structural and she needs to Do The Work to deprogram her ageism, unlike people with dysphoria, who of course have legitimate claims to cosmetic alteration.

And it is cosmetic - no part of the body that is altered by HRT or SRS or any of the feminization/masculinization surgeries is failing to function or functioning poorly. The problem is with the brain, which perceives the body parts as foreign or undesirable. We may sympathize with someone struggling with such a condition, but that does not change that the body parts being altered were already healthy and the alterations are cosmetic, and the relief being brought about is mental.

But plenty of trans people openly admit that separating body dysmorphia and gender dysphoria is a losing game. Contrapoints's video on "Beauty" (transcript) has the observation that she feels least dysphoric when she is meeting feminine beauty norms:

But I also think that trans people often talk like gender dysphoria is this intrinsic, personal experience that's always 100% valid and never has anything at all to do with the external pressure of beauty standards. But in fact, gender dysphoria is not sealed away in a vacuum away from the influence of societal ideals and norms.  [...] When I try to psychoanalyze myself, I find that my desires to look female, to look feminine, and to look beautiful are not exactly the same, but they're woven together so tightly that it's kind of difficult to untangle them. And the opposite is also true, that for me feeling mannish or dysphoric usually goes along with feeling ugly. I don't have a lot of days where I walk out the house thinking "well, I'm giving femme queen realness, but apart from that I look like absolute shit". 

Max Robinson's book "Detransition," from an FTM perspective, points out how the prospective trans man views his suffering as unique from and distinct from women's, even as the surgeries they seek are not especially different:

The stereotypical cosmetic surgery patient is seeking to become closer to being perfectly feminine - she wants to be beautiful. Transitional cosmetic surgery, on the other hand, is widely understood to mark the patient as ex-female and therefore unfemale; this is part of the meaning FTMs seek to create through surgery. FTM desire for cosmetic surgery is positioned as something totally different than the stereotype of a woman who 'merely' seeks beauty at her frivolous leisure. FTMs are deemed to have a rare affliction that needs urgent, life-saving treatment. Conversely, there is nothing more common than for a woman to become obsessed with her socially-deemed 'unsatisfactory' looks and desperately seek to change them, believing that such a change is the only thing that can restore her quality of life. This comparison will feel like an insult to the FTM. It will feel that way because we believe other women's suffering doesn't matter, and recognize how much ours does. Women's suffering is ordinary but ours is extraordinary. For us to matter, we must be differentiated from the silly little woman who wants to be pretty so badly she'll pay thousands of dollars (now billable to credit cards and loan programs designed to pay for elective surgeries!) to risk her life and health. These women don't need to be fixed; we do. FTMs know that we don't deserve a woman's fate but have not yet realized that no woman does.

I have more to write on the topic of the relationship between gender identity and beauty culture, but I'll end this one here. It makes sense that somebody who is identified with the opposite sex would also be affected by the standards of beauty expected of that sex. (Non-binary identification is more complicated and requires separate treatment.)

[jamespottersdaisy]

We could slow dance to rock music, kiss while we do it.

Sirius Black x fem!reader.

"All you have to do is to make the first move, and I'll take care of the rest," he said and smirked.

“Fuck you,” you breathed before pulling him in by the collar.

warnings - drinking, mentions and allusions to sex, no explicit description but still it's pretty obvious that i'm talking about sex so i don't want minors around, fwb?

6.2k

author's note - i like this, but also don't. english is not my first language so beware <3

Your eyebrows were creased, straining the muscles around your temples. You would feel the slowly-forming headache if you weren’t too deep in thought, glaring at the parchment before you.

Stars, lines, moon, and a blank space. A blank space which you should fill. 

It wasn’t supposed to be that hard, not if you already had an O.W.L degree, yet somehow your nerves were tense, and you could feel your angry breath against your lips. You were aware of your heartbeat and your shirt's fabric on your skin.

Maybe you should’ve just gone to sleep. It would be nice to lie on the soft bed, and bury yourself under the heavy blanket. Slowly relaxing to the warmth, closing your eyes and dreaming…

No. You had a star chart to finish. 

Thus, you groaned and started abusing your poorly-overworked brain once more.

You drew and erased and drew again. You took a break to rest your fingers, messaged your temple, and you drew once more. You even measured the distance between two stars before drawing yet again. 

You were almost finished when a chortle echoed from the stairs. 

It sounded closer and closer with every second, yet it wasn’t accompanied by anything. Whoever the person that was wandering around at…

You checked the clock.

Three in the morning. 

Whoever was wandering around at three in the morning, he was alone. What was he laughing at then?

You didn’t need to wonder more as your head snapped at the stairs instinctively when you felt his shadow. 

“Black?” 

Sirius was staggering down the stairs with a big grin on his face. He frowned a bit when he found your frame crunched up behind a table.

“Why are you up?” he asked, and you could barely comprehend the words. 

“Studying,” you said, “Why are you up?”

He shrugged and tripped over, supporting himself from the walls. Another chuckle left his lips. 

You tried not to laugh at his state.

“Are you drunk?”

He offered you a belittling look, which you were sure emerged because of the intoxication.

“No. Do I seem drunk?”

His long raven hair was loose, tousled around his face. His eyes were glassy, and a hazy grin was embracing his lips. You tried not to stare at his jawline.

“Yeah, you do.”

“Well, I am not drunk, so,” Sirius threw himself at the sofa and winced when his head hit its arm. “Perhaps a bit tipsy.”

“How did you even manage to sneak alcohol in?”

You were sure they didn’t leave alcohol lying around in the castle, and nor did they serve it during dinner. Your question seemed to only amuse him more.

“Ask no questions, hear no lies,” he drawled, turning his head at you. “What are you studying?”

His outstretched hand pointed to the parchment before you, and you shrugged. 

“Star chart.”

“Did you find me?” 

You smiled and arched a brow at him. Little did he know he was the only thing you could think about when you were looking at the star named ‘Sirius’.

“You’re the brightest, how could I not?”

He hummed and stared at the ceiling. You turned back at the paper before you and tried to focus. 

Sirius’s presence didn’t render focusing any easy. You were hyper-aware of anything he did and everything you did. You could feel him cast spells with his wand, fetching a chess piece or flying a bar of chocolate around. You could feel your leg bouncing up and down and the urge to stare at him nagging you.

It wasn’t your fault that Sirius Black was beautiful. 

Jet black hair cascaded to his shoulders, tired grey eyes cutting into your soul like a knife. His sharp bone structure only complimented more to his mischievous grin. The way he carried himself around in the hallways would ensnare your breath, and the wry smile his lips crafted would glisten your stomach.

Sometimes you would find yourself observing the way he carried out idlest tasks, and you would feel drawn to the way his long fingers played with a pen or the way he slicked his hair back from his face. Occasionally, he would catch you staring, and his lips would curl into a sly grin.

You might not fancy him or bear feelings for him, but you definitely found him attractive.

“When do you think you’ll be done?”

You flinched at his dulcet tone, averting your head at his slouched stature. His eyes were still on the ceiling.

“In a few minutes, why?”

“I’m bored,” he finally glanced at you. “I’ve been waiting for you for almost an hour.”

“It’s been roughly twenty-five minutes since you’ve come down,” you said, swallowing the words for ‘Why are you waiting for me?’

“Same thing,” he shrugged and called you again. “Be quick, come on.”

You didn’t remember what you scribbled down on the paper, but you were sure they were all wrong. You merely got it over with to walk up and sit next to him. 

Sirius sat up, offering you space on the sofa. You placed yourself a bit away from him and stared at his face. He stared back at you. You didn’t blink away. Neither did he.

Finally, you got bored.

“You said you were waiting for me–”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

You made a confused sound at him. What was with intoxicated Sirius? Sober Sirius wouldn’t ask this to you.

“You were waiting for me to ask this?”

“No, I just forgot what I was gonna say,” he nodded several times, eyelids getting heavy. “So, I thought I wouldn’t keep you waiting.”

“You’re a bit tipsy, and you've already started forgetting what you were gonna say?”

“Why are you asking the facts as questions? It’s the second time you’ve done that tonight.”

You were looking more bemused than before now. Sirius must’ve seen it that he started laughing. You didn’t comprehend what was going on in his head. 

“You don’t even notice doing it, do you?”

“Sirius, you sure you alright? You haven’t smacked your head on a wall or something?”

He looked around thoughtfully.

“Remus did smack his book to my head an hour ago.”

“You should go to bed,” you got up, offering him your hand. “You’re talking gibberish.”

“I’m good,” he shook his head, grinning up at you while sinking deeper into the sofa. “We have just started talking.”

“Well, I want to sleep,” you grabbed his hand and dragged him. “Get your arse up.”

He was heavier than he looked; you were having a hard time dragging him up on his feet. You were having a hard time getting yourself up on your feet, too, when he pulled you into his lap by your intertwined hands. 

“What are you doing?” you hissed, feeling Sirius’s fingers on your back. You were awfully conscious of his touch and your placement on his lap. 

“You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“Sirius,” you grit your teeth, trying to raise yourself. He clicked his tongue when you squirmed, giving you a disapproving look. 

“Don’t move too much,” he said, and you felt his grip on your back tightening. 

You wanted to get up but didn’t want to feel another…friction. 

“What question?” you asked to sway the topic and the attention to something else. Something else that wouldn’t heat up your core or wouldn’t sweat your palms. You didn’t even remember the question.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No,” you blurted out and pushed yourself up. Sirius bit down his lip when you did, and you chose to ignore the rasping sound from his throat. You were sure you were sweating.

“Good night, Black.”

You turned your heels and almost sprinted to the stairs for the girl's dorm, but a resonant tone grasped your attention.

“Wait, you’re not gonna help me?”

You groaned and halted your steps, ready to strangle him. He had a feigned smile on his lips when you turned away, and for a moment, you were eager to leave him there to his own devices. 

“You didn’t accept my help when I offered it in the first place.”

“Offer again, come on,” he dragged out the words, signalling that he was indeed too inebriated to handle himself. 

Thus, you sighed and strode back, hauling him from his arm. He shifted his weight to you, and you were sure he did it on purpose. 

“I’m not carrying you, Sirius, just helping you out,” you reminded him, but to no avail. He simply glanced at you with hollow eyes and back at the stairs of the boy's dorm.

The smell of his cologne enticed you, but you managed to bury the butterflies back into their graves. You attempted to drown the screeches in your mind’s walls that echoed, nudging you to heed the proximity between your bodies. His warm breath hitting your cheek didn’t lend a hand to your endeavours of putting a leash on your racing thoughts.  

You headed to the stairs, ambling because of Sirius’s weight. Once you approached them, you groaned, earning a chuckle from the boy. 

“Help me out here, I can’t carry you all by myself,” the moment the words left your lips, you felt him pull a part of his heft and lift a step. 

You were grateful, but it lasted a second. You felt burned on top of your body as you two climbed the stairs– well, mostly, you climbed both of you. 

With every step, you felt your muscles tense up, and your breath deepened. When you diverted your eyes to Sirius, the same warm breath caressed your lips. He was watching you this whole time, listening to the voices you were making. 

His Adam's apple moved up and down when your eyes fell to his lips, and your breath hitched when his hand on your shoulder touched your hair. 

You had to remind yourself that he was drunk. No matter how much his touch ignited your skin or how much his darkened eyes burned deep in your core with desire, he was drunk. He wouldn’t even remember what was happening at that very moment.

What was happening, again?

Oh, nothing. Sirius had simply leaned in and left only an inch between your lips. You simply exhaled deeply into his lips, giving away how much he was affecting you.

Only a bit more, and your lips would touch, your body would flame up, and your heart would burst with lust.

He was drunk. 

You inhaled and stepped back. You didn’t look back at him, not until you arrived at your destination. You were expecting that you would have to carry him inside the room, too, but Sirius pushed himself off you and stood on his legs. 

“Cheers, love,” he said playfully, his eyes still lost in somewhere between sobriety and drunkenness. You watched him step back, put his hand to the door handle, and open it with a scowl.

“You could walk?! Why did you make me carry you?!”

He simply grinned before closing the door.

You were agitated for the next two days. Mainly because lessons were hopping on your nerves and because Sirius hadn’t acknowledged that night. The possibility that he had forgotten things was taunting you.

You wouldn’t mind it if you two weren’t almost about to kiss. Neither had you paid attention to him much before nor had he to you. It wouldn’t be much of a fuss for your mind if it were before. But it wasn’t. 

It wasn’t simply before, and you were starting to notice too many little things about him.

He would huff at the strand of hair before his eyes when cutting an ingredient. He would poke out the tip of this tongue between his lips when he was too focused on something. He had a mole right under his right eye, but it was too tiny to take notice.

All these new details would fumble your concentration.

Thus, when you two were partnered up in Potion’s class, you were frowning most of the time. The other part of the time, you were confused about what to do next for the damned potion. 

“Did you add the sloth brain?” you asked Sirius, much to your dismay. 

“No, stir twice clockwise first,” he readied the sloth brain, waiting for you to stir the pot.

You obliged, aware of Sirius’s hovering frame next to you. God, he smelled divine. It made you mad. 

He added the last ingredient before taking the spoon from you. Chills ran down your back when he brushed his fingers to yours, and you swore at yourself for acting and feeling like a thirteen-year-old. You despised the way your heart took pace when he sneaked closer to you, and your body refused to step away from him. Thus, you pushed him with your hip.

"Move away.”

“Don’t be bitter, I’m helping you out.”

“I am perfectly capable of making the potion.”

You weren’t. Your mind was so lost that Sirius had to intervene four times during the lesson.

“Capable, my arse,” he hits you with his upper arm, showing you slightly back to regain his previous place. “Did you make this many mistakes on your star chart, too?”

That was when your body froze for a second. 

He hadn’t forgotten, it seemed. You tried not to divulge any out-of-ordinary emotions. 

“My star chart was perfect until you came down and interrupted.”

Sirius shrugged, and you noticed that he also curled his lips downward. You glanced at his hands clutching the ladle and involuntarily gazed at the way he stirred the pot.

“It’s not my fault that I’m distractingly beautiful.”

He was distractingly beautiful. At least for you, he was beautiful enough to delve into your mind and ruffle all your thoughts.

“You were simply distractingly annoying,” 

Sirius smirked at you, his eyes narrowing vaguely. 

“You didn’t seem annoyed when you were on my lap.”

You felt the heat attract your skin, sweat threatening to emerge if you kept visualising how his hands felt on your back. You weren’t going to let him discern this, however.

“Need I remind you who pulled me there in the first place?”

“Nah, I did,” he took your hand and placed it on the ladle. “Do I need to teach you how to stir, or can you do that yourself?”

“You got tired already?” you mocked him, stirring the potion. As every normal person would, you expected him to deny or mock you back.

“Indeed,” he said instead.  

In the next moments, he would lean on the desk and watch you stir, and you would try your best not to ask him the question that was eating you alive. 

He would stare at your eyes blink while you watched every ingredient dissolve into the liquid just to avoid Sirius’s impact on you. He would observe every muscle twitching on your face while you were wincing at the screaming voices from the next desk. He would admire your smile while Professor Slughorn said, ‘Good job, kid’ to you.

If only you stopped fighting shy of his presence and heeded, you would notice that his eyes never left you for even a moment.

In the next few weeks, you would engage with Sirius more than any time of the year you had been in this school. 

He would come and sit next to you, bothering you while you were reading something. When you shooed him away, he would simply promise to stay quiet and listen to you read. 

‘I will be as silent as the grave.’

At some point, you would stutter, and he would ignore it. 

He would tease you at every opportunity and grin when you would get mad at him.

‘Stop eating my bloody muffins, Black!’

He would repeat the same thing only to adore the scowl on your face and the wrinkle between your brows, but you would be too irritated to notice it.

He would keep you company at your night studies but mask it as ‘not being able to sleep’. 

‘Remus snores too loud.’

You would be too tense to perceive his covetous gaze. 

You wouldn’t understand his sudden interest in you, but you secretly cherished this new friendship.

You would feel tingles when he drew stars on your arm during the lessons. You wouldn’t be able to hide your smile when he would ask you to polish his nails black. Your heart would flutter when he sat beside you and listened to you read. 

However, there was also something else lingering between the two bodies. A tension that would tense you, fluster your mind, and frazzle your skin with a yearning for his touch.

You would feel it when his breath hit your cheek, his finger brushed your hand, his thigh stroked yours. You would feel it when he whispered at night, hummed at your jeering words, and grinned at your tinted face.

You would feel it when he found you at midnight on Astronomy Tower, too.

You didn’t know how, but he would magically appear and cross your way; your encounters had tripled recently. Especially when you were alone.

At least once a week, you two would stumble upon each other in the Tower and the plain ‘hey’s would turn into deep late-night talks. Sometimes you would tell him how you had the worst day in your life, and he would briefly mention his family. 

You were slowly becoming friends. 

Yet, a feeling had been clawing your skin every moment he was close, exhorting you to touch his arm, his hand, his leg. A small gesture to the eye, but your heart would clench with a yen for more each time.

The exact feeling was now nagging you as Sirius was talking about his dream tattoo.

“A constellation?”

“How else would people know what star it is?”

He wasn’t exactly wrong. A simple star wouldn’t indicate the name, and he was determined to have Sirius tattooed. It was rather a silly conversation for one in the morning at Astronomy Tower, but recently you had grown to enjoy his voice.

“Where do you want it?” you asked, and he smirked.

You watched Sirius get up from the wall you’ve been leaning on and pull his shirt up. You expected him to point somewhere around his navel, but instead, he clasped the shirt between his teeth and placed his hand on his black pants.

“What are you doing?” you asked, a bit panicked, but your eyes betrayed you by peeking at his abdomen.

“Not taking my pants off, calm down,” he grinned and pulled the right part of his pants slightly down. You could swear you felt your breath get heavier when his right hip came to view. Everything from the sharp outline of his bone to the thin hair on his skin was boiling something in you, threatening to spill any moment.

“You could've just said to my hip,” you averted your eyes at his face with force. 

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t see that look on your face,” he said, pushing his clothes back to their rightful places. You feigned a frown when he sat back next to you, your arms touching. 

“What look?”

“The one you make whenever I’m too close to you.”

You could feel the embarrassment climbing into your core and the need to lick your lips itching your nerves. 

“I don’t make any looks,” you managed to voice, trying to cover your chagrin with insouciance. 

Sirius scoffed and leaned in, almost daring you to prove him wrong. And you tried. You tried so hard not to hold your breath, not to pinch your thigh, and not to gulp the apprehension away.

He grabbed your chin when you failed. 

You kept your eyes on his grey ones, albeit his hot breath begged you to shut them. You wondered if Sirius could hear your heart hammering in your chest. 

“Sure you don’t,” he whispered, and you hated him for it.

Anticipation was hurting you, burning your heart with desire. You were irked that he wasn't doing anything. Teasing you, pushing you to the edge of the cliff, but never letting you see the view. You despised that you were at his mercy. 

He pulled away when you leaned in, chuckled at your eagerness. You were about to stop this madness and leave the Tower if it weren't for his hand on your waist that pulled your body close to his.

He was playing with you, testing your limits and self-control, which you clearly lacked. Or else you wouldn't arch your back at his touch and part your lips.

His hands roamed every inch of your body, but lips never touched yours. He let you place your hand on his collar but not on his face to crash your lips to his. You let his hands caress the bare skin of your arms, needing them closer to your heart, but he didn't give you what you wanted.

Your patience was hanging from a thread, ready to snap in a second. You could feel the frustration building up, slave to one mockery to burst into flames. Irritation and anticipation blended together, their colours turning your stomach upside down.

One more smirk from him, and you would snap.

"All you have to do is to make the first move, and I'll take care of the rest," he said and smirked.

So you snapped.

“Fuck you,” you breathed before pulling him in by the collar.

You weren't soft, he wasn't gentle, and the kiss wasn't tender.

It was hungry, zealous, and rapacious.

His lips fought with yours, intoxicating your every sense. Your nails marked his neck, earning rattled breaths that urged you for more. His hands claimed your skin, igniting every inch with lust.

You tugged on his hair when he bit down on your lip, and he pressed his fingers harder on your skin when you slipped your tongue inside.

Your breath mingled with his, and your lips parted only briefly when he pulled you to his lap.

The next second, he was pulling you in, hands on either side of your face. You pushed his hair away from his face, moaning to his lips.

His hands found their way under your clothes, making you arch at the cold of his fingers. Your lips were swollen and red at his point, as well as his. 

Yet, he didn't stop. Not until you were both unable to breathe anymore.

When he did stop, your lips missed his lips. You let your lungs take the air they needed while your eyes stared deep into his darkened ones.

Both of you were gasping for air, chests moving up and down in sync.

What would happen next stretched to dozens of moments, hundreds of thoughts and thousands of doubts.

You could stop right here and there. You could pause and talk about it or even not talk about it ever again. You could stay in the dark, refusing to learn what it would be like to feel him, to hear him, to taste him. Or…

All you had to do was to make the first move.

You chose the latter.

Great changes were made to your life since that night.

For example, you had learned how to sneak into the boy's room. You were now passing the Requirements Room more often, and your lips would be somehow swollen every time you were late to class.

It was exciting, the feeling that you could anytime feel a hand on your arm pulling you close, but it was also incredibly messy. You were skipping classes, meals, and even small chats with your friends.

You didn't regret it, though.

His quiet moans against your skin, your nail marks on his back, and the hot breaths lingering between the two bodies were all you needed to recall to abide.

It didn't have a name. 

You two were clinging to each other as hard as you could, your lips were begging for more even though there was nothing more to take, and the loving words were being spoken in the heat of a moment. But it didn't have a name.

You never bothered to think about it.

“I’m not sure they will fall for that,” you mumbled drowsily as Sirius was playing with your hair. A little bit more, and you would doze off on his bare chest.

“They will, they’re astonishingly stupid,” he said, and you frowned at how he didn’t trouble himself to keep his voice down. It was the middle of the night, and you were sure the other three boys were asleep–or trying to fall asleep– as you two talked.

“They’re smart enough to guess why you’re inviting them to a Gryffindor party,”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, and you felt your head move. “But we’re inviting all the Slytherins, and they’re proud enough to show up.”

“You still won’t tell me what’s the prank?”

He laughed, and you winced at the loud tone. 

“You just have fun, leave that part to us–” 

“Some of us are trying to sleep, Pads!” James exclaimed, and you stifled a chuckle. Sirius had mentioned that he woke up early every morning.

“It’s only midnight,” he called back, and you squeezed your lips together when another calm but firm voice was heard.

“Sirius, be quiet.”

“Be quiet yourself, Remus!”

But as time passed, you found yourself questioning things, trying to put on a label desperately so you could comprehend. So you could understand why he kissed your lips and called you his friend to others, why he put distance between you in public but got frustrated when he couldn’t feel your skin on his in private, and why he didn’t even touch you in mornings but marked you at nights.

You often found yourself gazing at the way his hair stuck to his temple or the way his fingers stroked the bruises on your hips.

“You’re staring,” he said between rapid breaths as he threw himself beside you. You laughed, drawing a deep breath in. 

You didn’t know how to ask this with the least damage, but you also knew if you let this…situation go on, it would only harm you.

“I have to ask you something.”

“Did I add glue to Pete’s shampoo? Yeah, I did.”

You rolled your eyes at him before giving him a disapproving look. Sirius merely grinned and nodded. 

“Kidding. Ask away.”

Here goes nothing

“I want to know,” you dig your nails into your palm. “what…this is.”

You were sure you didn’t choose the right words, but how else were supposed to ask it without sounding cheesy? When you peeked at Sirius, he looked frowning, eyes blinking fast enough to let you know his mind was blank. 

“What is what?”

“This,” you repeated, this time with more determination. You swung your pointer finger between the distance. “Us. What we are doing.”

“I–” he stopped, staring at you. You felt like his gaze was accusing you of relying on him for all the answers. “You can end it if that’s what you want.”

Your face fell in annoyance. How was that any relevant to what you asked?

“That’s not what I said.”

“I don’t understand what you said then.”

You sat up and started putting your clothes on, your brows furrowed. Sirius watched you propped up on his elbows. You tried not to peek at his hair.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I am not going anywhere until you answer my question,” you tugged your shirt and faced him. “I asked what are we?”

You cringed internally for voicing the words and cursed Sirius for making you. But it had to be done; you weren’t going to be one of those people who would fall in love with the ideas in their heads. You had to know what you meant for him.

Sirius was biting his lips, picking the skin off. You arched a brow at him, still waiting.

“Friends?”

“Friends don’t moan each other’s names.”

Sirius groaned, sitting up. His eyes never left yours, his lips parting and closing in a search for the right words. Oh, how you wanted to dive into his mind and see the mess.

“I don’t know. What do you expect me to say? I’m in this as much as you are.”

He wasn’t wrong. You two never talked about this, but you should’ve. Because right now, your unspoken words were getting in the way. 

You looked at his conflicted face, loving the gleam of emotion you didn’t understand but hating the cross ambience you were too familiar with in his eyes. You were a stranger to your feelings for him; you didn’t know what you wanted, not yet, at least. But whatever it was, being away from him wasn’t the one.

Minutes had passed, and you were still silent. It hindered him and hampered the space between you. Somehow, the arm’s distance felt like miles for you. 

Sirius cleared his throat. 

“Do you– are you asking this because you want to see others, but you feel like you owe me something?”

Your eyes widened with surprise, words building up on the tip of your tongue. So many thoughts and words were waiting to be said, and you felt like you didn’t have enough time for them.

“No–”

“Because you can.”

“What?”

“See others. You can do that if you wish.”

You were staring at him with a glower. He was fine with you seeing someone else. Did this mean he felt nothing of importance for you? Did this mean you should also be fine with him seeing someone else? Well, you weren’t.

“I don’t want to see others,” you said, albeit you were sure something ruder would come out of your mouth. “So this is purely physical? Just sex?”

He stood still for a moment, denying you any answer. You knew he was thinking. You could see it from his eyebrows, hands, and eyes that moved around. You just didn’t know what he was thinking.

You also knew it was way too late for you when you felt a sting in your heart as he spoke.

“Yes. Just sex.”

Nothing changed, and yet you felt like everything had changed.

It was still the same tender touches, soft words, and zealous kisses. It was still the same tingle in your stomach when he would call you pretty while you whimpered with pleasure. It was still the same fire on your skin when his lips would caress every inch. It was still the same peace when he would hold you close afterwards.

However, the sleepless nights, warm tears and red eyes were new. The agony in your soul when he would simply nod at you in the mornings was new. The storm in your heart when he would leave you alone in empty rooms was new. The war in your mind when he fell asleep on your lap was new.

You hated every moment of it.

You started to see him with other girls more, too. Maybe you simply had started to pay attention, but it bothered you. It boiled your blood, tensed your muscles and twisted your tongue.

You wanted to show him it was more for you, but you didn’t know how. Of course, you could simply go up to him and confess your feelings. But where’s the fun in that? You were determined to get a confession from him.

That’s why you repeated everything he did that wounded you. 

He simply said ‘hey’ at you in the common room? You didn’t acknowledge him.

He said one of you should leave first so that you don’t attract attention? You were already out of the room.

He was about to swallow a girl whole? You didn’t do that yet. It felt beneath you to betray your feelings like that.

But you did watch him with a drink in your hand, music blasting in your ears and blazing eyes. His hand rested on the girl's back, a smug grin flashing as he lowered his head at her to hear her. You could feel every drop of poison travelling in your veins when he touched her, thorns of jealousy bleeding you. 

What a party.

At some point, you even contemplated returning to your room but decided to not let him ruin your night. Thus, you found your friends, and to your luck, they had enough energy to let you loose.

They made you sway your hips to the rhythm, jump in your place, and scream the lyrics from the top of your lungs. You were even drunk enough to feel dizzy, or maybe that was just too much jumping around.

You closed your eyes for a moment to take a break, laughing at yourself. You knew you shouldn't do it, but your hands poured another drink, ready to gulp it down.

“What are you doing alone?” a familiar voice called your attention. The raven black-hair was enough to let you know who it was.

You hated his attire. Black leather jacket on his bare chest with the same coloured pants. You hated his rings. Wrapping around his fingers too elegantly, forcing you to peek. You hated the black nails that you painted and the eyeliner you drew.

“Drinking.”

Sirius nodded and maybe even hummed, but the rock music was too loud to hear. You felt him take your hand and slowly pull you.

“Come dance with me,” he said, wrapping his arm around your waist. You hated the butterflies too.

“I don’t want to jump around, my head hurts.”

“Then we’ll slow dance. Come now.”

"To rock music?"

"Sure," he rested your hands on his shoulders, embracing you with his and pushing your bodies together.

"This is ridiculous," you breathed to his lips. Music and your movements didn't align. It made you feel out of place.

"How is your night so far?" he ignored you, and you heard the sarcasm in his question. Would it be bad if you punched him in the eye? But again, you loved his grey eyes. 

"Wonderful."

"Mine is too."

You rolled your eyes. He brought his hands to your hips. You could feel the odd looks from the people around. Who danced like this to rock music?

"Yeah, I saw."

He smirked, and you stepped on his foot.

"Saw what?"

"The wonderful in your night," you snarled, and his eyes caught yours escaping to the direction of the girl Sirius was with moments ago. 

"Are you jealous?" he asked as he swirled you around.

Maybe you should punch him after all. Hopefully, it would wipe off the smug on his face.

"No.”

“She was needed for the prank. To lure Rosier in.”

“Don’t remember asking.”

“I know. Didn’t want you to think of something else.”

‘Why?’ You wanted to ask but blurted something else out instead.

“We don’t owe each other anything, do we? You can do what you like, and I can do what I like.”

He frowned a bit. 

“I thought you didn’t want to see others.”

“Time will tell.”

“I don’t want you to see others.”

“You were the one–”

“I changed my mind.”

“Why?” you asked this time. Your heart was beating with the excitement of being so close to what you wanted to hear.  “It’s just sex like you said.”

“I made a mistake,” he said and turned the whole conversation into a joke again. “I didn’t know it was possible, either.”

“I will leave if you can’t stay serious for five minutes.”

“Fine, sorry,” he chuckled, but it was forced. His hands were sweaty, and his movements a bit sloppy. He was being extra careful not to step on you. He was aware this was the moment he was supposed to open his heart.

But he didn’t. He didn’t, and you waited.

You waited as he drew a sharp breath in, and you waited as he licked his lips. You waited for the words that never came. 

He was pushing you to the edge of a cliff, not letting you see the view. You could give up, let go of whatever this was. You could abandon your feelings and forbid your skin to his touch, and he wouldn’t have the power over your heart anymore.

All you had to do was to make the first move.

“I want this to be more, Sirius,” you said. 

His breath stopped for a moment. His hands tightened around your hips. You felt your steps come to a halt, too. Not that you were complaining; it was a weird dance. 

“I want you to be more.”

He rested his forehead against yours, a crook of a smile appearing on his lips. 

“We’re on the same page then,” he whispered, and you heard it despite the screams and music around you.

You didn’t know why he had such a hard time admitting his feelings or voicing them properly. But you were used to it. He wouldn’t tell you he cared about you, instead, he would dance to rock music with you.

You smiled and started to move ineptly at the head-aching music. He kissed your lips when you did, and you happily returned it. His lips were soft this time, and his kiss tender. Your smile didn’t fade when he pulled away. 

“How is your night so far?”

“Wonderful,” you giggled, “Yours?”

"You're the wonderful in my night," he whispered before kissing you again.

i'm a bit insecure about this one, but i'm also extremely tired

thank you for reading and let me know what you think!

and if you care to, buy me a coffee<33

[violetasteracademic]

I know this has been said a million times in a million ways, but I humbly request an audience to September Virgo out for a hot minute and share my dissertation on why the "Three Brothers and Three Sisters is *lazy writing*" take is by far the WORST.

If you found me through my Lucien Vanserra's Hero's Journey breakdown (I'll link that at the end) then you already know I am an absolute nerd about book structure. I do not beef with the other ships and genuinely love and am interested in every character in these shipwars. But I get a little hot when I see this take!

The reason being is that 3 and 3 is not "lazy writing." Lazy writing is:

⚫ Conveniently de-escalating all current stakes and conflicts established in the service of a romantic pairing.

⚫ Poorly pacing a book because now we have to explain why a character was thinking about offering another character 1 ticket to ride his face, but now he quickly wants someone else instead that many people offline don't even know about. Structure wise- (we are talking three act structure here, again I have broken that down in the link I'll post below) this means that by the end of Act One, the act in which the lead of our story has been presented with all of the information and their story has been laid out, they are now crossing into Act Two with clarity and set up, (side note-the first act is typically resolved within the first 20% of the book (or less!) we must resolve an existing romance with one character that has not even gotten its opportunity to be told in depth (i.e. Feyre and Tamlin). And reasonably introduce a new romance. As well as the introduction of new plotlines to accommodate the new romance. It's just... it's a plot and pacing nightmare. I'm getting the sweats even thinking about it.

⚫ Ignoring years worth of details and foreshadowing in an act of fan service because the fandom decided they don't like your character, even if you, as the author, very much do.

⚫ Introducing a brand new plot in the middle of a smorgasbord of unresolved plotlines so a newly introduced side character who has already had a complete arc in service of another main character can now become the next main character, leapfrogging over the remaining main characters who have been around since book one with active storylines in development.

Three and three is not "lazy writing." Three is simply a motif. A motif is an artistic/literary device. Three sisters. Three brothers. Three mountains. Three stars on the night court insignia, ect.

Writing is: Structure. Line level prose. Obstacles. Stakes. Character arcs.

I will absolutely allow the criticism that it is cheesy or corny. That is an opinion, and you are totally allowed to have it. We can respectfully disagree on that and it's no skin off my back.

However, Elriel (as well as Vassien) have the elements that *good* writing is comprised of. Characters with steadily increasing arcs. Obstacles at every turn. Incredibly high stakes. And in my opinion (though of course everyone is allowed their own opinion on this!) some downright BREATHTAKING one liners and line level prose in their interactions from ACOMAF all the way to the bonus chapter.

Please, I beg of you, understand that just because you do not like something does not make it lazy or poorly executed. Art is subjective, and when we use our taste to make objective assertions about things we don't prefer, art suffers.

For more on book structure and the possibilities of Lucien and Vassa's absolutely beautiful potential, hop on over here:

Thank you for your time 😂

[city-of-ladies]

Sent to a foreign country as a tribute, Lady Ki (c.1320- after 1369) carved a place for herself and became a powerful empress, the last of the Yuan dynasty.

From maid to imperial consort 

Lady Ki, also known as Öljei Khuduq, was born in Xingzhou, Gaoli (present-day Korea). The Korean state used to send a tribute of women to its neighbor, the Mongol-led Yuan dynasty, who controlled most of modern-day China and its surrounding areas such as present-day Mongolia. 

Lady Ki entered the palace and was assigned to Toghon Temür's service. Described as beautiful and clever, she quickly caught the young emperor’s attention and was elevated to the rank of consort.

The empress Danishiri was hostile to Lady Ki but was executed in 1335 or 1337 for having tried to protect her brother who was involved in a rebellion.

Toghon Temür then tried to name Lady Ki empress, but his decision was met with extreme hostility. Indeed, no Korean woman had held the dignity so far. Most empresses came from the Mongol Khongirad clan. He ultimately relented and chose a Mongol empress: Bayan Khuduq. 

A powerful favorite 

Lady Ki’s position was strengthened when she gave birth to a son, Ayushiridara (future emperor Zhaozong of Northern Yuan, r.1370-1378). Bayan Khuduq's son died young. Having a frugal and effaced personality, the empress was furthermore no match for Lady Ki. Ayushiridara was thus made heir apparent in 1355.

Empress Ki was influential and involved herself in political and military affairs. She for instance protected the high-ranking official Toqto'a but withdrew her support when he opposed the installation of her son as heir apparent. 

She liked to read the Women’s Book of Filial Piety and sought examples of past empresses she could emulate. When a famine struck in 1359, she showed her generosity by having the officials distribute porridge to the hungry, using her own funds to have thousands of corpses buried and hiring monks to perform funeral services. 

Lady Ki used her influence to promote her family’s interests. Her kinsmen in Korea were granted official ranks and titles. They repeatedly abused their power, which led the Korean king to execute Lady Ki’s entire clan. 

When she learned about it, she asked her son to avenge her family and raise a force of 10,000 soldiers. The military campaign was a complete failure and the entire force was routed. 

Empress before the fall

Bayan Khuduq died in 1365. No obstacles stood in Lady Ki’s way and she received the empress’s seal. It seems that she tried to make up for the mistakes of a poorly-performing emperor. Later historians indeed wrote that Toghon Temür preferred focusing on wine and women, though this could be an exaggeration to justify the fall of the Yuan Dynasty. 

The government’s structure was disintegrating. Empress Ki conspired to force the emperor to abdicate and put her son on the throne but failed. She faced little consequences and was simply put under house arrest for 100 days. Her agressive defense of her son’s interests was in keeping with Mongolian political culture, which recognized the influence of strong women. 

The Yuan dynasty fell in 1368 when the armies of the future Ming Emperor Hongwu entered the capital. Empress Ki fled to the north with Toghon Temür. What happened to her afterward is unclear, but she likely died the following year.

Her life was the inspiration for a 2013  Korean television drama, Empress Ki.

Feel free to check out my Ko-Fi if you like what I do! Your support would be much appreciated.

Further reading 

Buell Paul D., Fiaschetti Francesca, Historical Dictionary of the Mongol World Empire

McMahon Keith, Celestial Women: Imperial Wives and Concubines in China from Song to Qing

Robinson David M., Empire's Twilight: Northeast Asia Under the Mongols

Xu Shindan, “Öljei Qudu”, in: Hong Lee Lily Xiao, Wiles Sue (ed.), Biographical Dictionary of Chinese Women, Volume II: Tang Through Ming 618 - 1644

[is-this-mathieu-enriched]

i live in australia where mathieus have been unfairly banned :( i have always really loved mathieus and the wide variety of display patterns and varieties they come in - i also love how adaptable they can be to new activities and lifestyles! do you have any recommendations for an alternative breed i can look in to that might fill the mathieu shaped hole in my heart

Sometimes a single incident can lead to an entire species being banned, as was the case in Australia after an escaped poorly-socialised Mathieu began attacking local juveniles in a territorial dispute. This behaviour is very uncommon, but unfortunately has reflected upon the whole species. We can hope that with time this ban will be overturned, but for the moment your best bet is to consider one of the similar species native to Australia. While none fill quite the same niche as a Mathieu, there are multiple delightful options which share many of the same characteristics:

1) A Bling

The jewelled Bling actually has a wider range of display patterns than the Mathieu, with a depth and purity of colour that even fancy Mathieus have not yet attained. In addition, the iridescent varieties possess a beautiful sheen, often compared to that of precious jewels. Like a Mathieu, a Bling uses his display patterns for social signalling, allowing a surprisingly complex range of emotions to be conveyed.

In the wild, Blings will build and decorate elaborate structures to cover the entrance to their burrows. It is theorised that these may play some role in mate selection, but research is still ongoing.

Although native to Australia, Blings are often kept in other parts of the world as bonded companions to Tadejs, and the two species are extremely compatible. A Bling is a pursuit hunter focusing on intense bursts of speed, and like a Jasper will eat one large meal and then rest and digest for several days. This allows time for social bonding, which is very important to the Bling - unlike some species, your Bling will want to sit and watch you type on your laptop, and some will even attempt to mimic your activities.

A Bling may not be suitable if you are not looking to adopt a bonded companion for him, and need to be away from home for multiple hours each day. But if you are looking for a species with a strong social connection, beautiful display patterns and outgoing nature, a Bling may be just right for you.

Also consider: A Julian or Fabio.

2) A Jai

With a sweet personality and friendly nature, the Jai is ideal if you have a smaller living space. Exclusively found at altitude, they are primarily herbivorous, but will supplement their diet by catching unwary prey on an opportunistic basis. Their favourite snacks are flowers, and it is theorised that the colour of blooms consumed in infancy will affect a Jai's adult colouring.

Unlike Mathieus, Jais are not capable of changing their display patterns. However they can be found in a range of beautiful colours, from golden to pink, white and teal. A Jai will primarily build his nest in the rocky terrain of the high mountains, but this can be easily reproduced with a gravel substrate to his enclosure. As Jais are not primarily hunters, they do not need to hunt live prey. Check for approved florists in your area, and supplement his diet with a multivitamin.

Quietly playful, Jais are easily harness-trained, and will enjoy the opportunity to explore your world with you. What may seem like a quiet walk down the street will quickly take on a new light, as your Jai appreciates every new smell, sight and sound! They also enjoy physical enrichment toys, especially those which involve climbing. A Jai's enclosure should contain plenty of opportunities for vertical as well as horizontal movement.

Jais can suffer from problems during shedding - stuck shed is a regular complication - so they may not be suitable if you are not comfortable helping him to remove any old skin. If in doubt, never pull or tug at the old skin, but consult your veterinarian immediately.

A Jai may not be suitable if you are not able to devote vertical as well as horizontal space to an enclosure, or if you are looking for varying display patterns as a mood indicator. But if you are looking for a species with a gentle nature, and an active curiosity about the world, a Jai may be just what you are looking for.

Also consider: A Wilco or João.

3) A Ben

Unfairly possessing a reputation as 'difficult' to keep, it is time that the Ben was reconsidered as an option. With the right care, they can be extremely rewarding - Bens do not bond easily to their keepers, but once they do, their fiercely loving nature becomes apparent. This also applies to bonded companions, so do be aware if you are hoping to introduce a Ben into an already formed bond.

Primarily persistence hunters, Bens will exhaust their prey before moving in for the kill. Tufted like a Tadej, their crests are used to signal mood and intent much as a Mathieu uses his display patterns. The Ben pictured above is in a pleasant mood, and his raised crest shows that he is vigorously asserting dominance over the photographer! They will bask once a day, similar to a Mathieu, with a drooping crest indicating that your Ben is likely too cold.

A Ben will live happily on a similar diet to a Wout or Tadej, and requires a similar amount of supervised outdoor time as either. They enjoy the opportunity to hunt live prey, and any enrichment activities which mimic this. Bens enjoy a challenge: if your Ben fails to conquer a particular enrichment toy at the park, be prepared for him to make a beeline for it at every subsequent occasion until he has succeeded at mastering it!

A Ben may not be suitable if you already have adopted another species, or if you are hoping for a quick and easy bond. However if you are looking for a deeply caring species with a love of enrichment challenges, a Ben may be the perfect choice.

Also consider: An Enric or Tao.

There are many more options out there, and hopefully you will be able to find the perfect species that fits with you and your lifestyle. Happy adopting!

[saintsenara]

❤, 💛, and 💜 please!

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

which character do you think is the most egregiously mischaracterized by the fandom?

having seen the state of my inbox, this isn't the only time this one will come up...

so let's start strong by going for... albus dumbledore.

i find dumbledore bashing incredibly boring - not because dumbledore is a character i think of as morally spotless, but because the way he's criticised in certain areas of this fandom becomes dull by virtue of never actually engaging with interesting critiques of his character and decisions.

dumbledore is not some machiavellian evil genius - the entire point of deathly hallows is that the omniscient vibe that he projects in the first six books isn't actually omniscience at all, and it always irks me to see authors miss this, and ascribe to malice what is clearly human fallibility. nor is dumbledore intentionally or egregiously manipulative or cruel. and nor is there something "wrong" with him.

[the closest i've come recently to throwing my laptop at the wall was seeing a nonsensical post proposing that one of the reasons why it's fine to think of him as a villain is that he has anti-social personality disorder. not because i think it's inappropriate to assign diagnoses to fictional characters, but because i think if you do wish to do that you should attempt to know what you're talking about... and (evidently quite poorly) reading the wikipedia summary of an extremely complex disorder is not that.]

dumbledore is a wartime paramilitary leader - and wartime leaders have to make extraordinarily complex decisions, often ones which result in harm befalling their soldiers. the series is generally fairly weak on the realities of war - since its genre conventions require it to end with all being well - but what it shows of dumbledore's tactics is one area in which it shines.

and it also gives us plenty of meat if we want to emphasise the ways in which he's inadmirable.

dumbledore is a creature of stasis - he holds radical views, but he does nothing to actually advance them in society [this is a man who is at the heart of the establishment for half a century, who does nothing with that power to dismantle the oppressive social structures which drive wizarding politics and prop up blood-supremacy], and he also has a tendency to adopt a "wait and see" approach in situations where intervention would be obviously more appropriate. dumbledore is a hypocrite - he’s happy to be depended on by fudge, he is appalled that fudge might depend on lucius malfoy. dumbledore lives in an ivory tower, and clearly has little interest in the ways poverty, violence, and isolation affect people. dumbledore projects his shame and self-loathing onto others in a way which is detrimental to their own happiness. and so on.

all of these flaws have a tangible impact on the arc of the series - and dumbledore's failure to take meaningful action to prevent either voldemort or snape's radicalisation is something i think he can be genuinely criticised for - but they can't be taken in isolation. dumbledore fucks up because he's just one man - and the character flaws which cause him to fuck up also contribute to many of his most admirable traits: his mercy; his courage; his steadfastness; and his faith.

and it's so much more interesting than reducing him to a one-note caricature of evil!

what is a popular ship you just can't get behind, and why?

dramione, because i have a very low tolerance for both fanon!hermione and fanon!draco.

i think it could be done interestingly... i've just never seen it.

which character is way hotter than everyone else seems to think?

which got two more shoutouts:

arthur and molly weasley.

they both clearly fuck - and the lack of respect they receive for this in the fandom is because of the tiresome association of sex with youth and [one, very narrow, view of] beauty [hence why characters like snape often become mysteriously hot when they're being written in romantic pairings...], meaning that both of them being middle-aged, arthur balding, and molly being fat means that the fact that they're clearly obsessed with each other never gets the attention it deserves.

[simlit]

Chosen of the Sun | | dawn // forty-five

| @catamano

next / previous / beginning

ELION: Not at all. I’m simply accustomed to powerful women. Indeed, hierarchal structure is one of the few things in this world I enjoy. I can respect authority spoken by someone who knows firmly what they want; A commander that isn’t afraid to give commands. EIRA: But you don’t respect mine. ELION: That’s hardly the case. I respect you a great deal. But I also enjoy you greatly in other ways, so I’m inclined not to listen. It’s quite the paradox. A part of me does feel quite poorly. I’m just being ripped apart on the inside by my own internal dilemma— EIRA: Can’t you take anything seriously?! ELION: Yes. Yes I can. And I do. I’d like to get to know you. EIRA: Why? ELION: You ask me to be serious, then I will give you a very serious answer. I once loved a woman like you. You remind me of her in the most achingly beautiful way. It’s painful. And I want to feel it more. EIRA: …So it is a kink. ELION: Only partially. EIRA: laughs Ridiculous. Did she love you back? ELION: For a while. EIRA: Shocking. Let me guess, you drove her away? ELION: Not at all. I lost her. EIRA: Oh. She… I’m… sorry. ELION: She didn’t die, if that’s what you think. At least, not in that way. No, I imagine she lives, still. But the woman she once was… Death is simple, you see. We grieve in the face of it. And grief has a name and a shape. It’s understood. There are far worse things than dying. To carry on when there’s nothing left of us… That is suffering of another sort, entirely.  EIRA: And I remind you of this? Shouldn’t you resent me? ELION: Not at all. I’m reminded of the fondest memories. You see, like you, she hailed from the mountain regions; One of the snow-touched elves of the north. I wondered if you might have had elvenblood yourself. That striking color of your hair… EIRA: I’m no elf. Just unlucky. ELION: Unlucky? EIRA: My parents were perfectly plain and human, in a village of other perfectly plain humans. I imagine that’s why they threw me out when I was barely strong enough to open my eyes. I’ve been putting people off since I was an infant. So forgive me if your advances don’t exactly stir my pot. ELION: Then, my apologies. I should not have expected you to respond the same. She was, I suppose, a particular case. EIRA: How did you… meet? ELION: Very accidentally. We met during one of my assignments long ago. She was no stranger to battle; A ranger, and better with a blade than I. They say poison is a maiden’s murder weapon, but she preferred a more direct approach, and I’d never been beaten so badly. EIRA: You were sent to kill her? ELION: No, I was sent to kill her client. And I did kill him, but she certainly didn’t make it easy for me. EIRA: Well, that’s a story if I’ve ever heard one. ELION: I have many. I expect you do, too. We could exchange them sometime. I can be quite civil when I need to. Dinner, drinks, I’ll even wear my hair up. EIRA: Tch. Do I look like the type to be wined and dined? ELION: I hoped not. EIRA: Then you weren’t wrong. But I’m no one’s replacement. ELION: I would never think to replace her. But then, seeing you, I considered maybe I ought to finally move on. EIRA: Find someone else. ELION: Ah, well. Suppose I should. I’m happy to accept when I’m defeated. But you must at least give me credit for trying. For what it’s worth, I was sincere. EIRA: … ELION: About what I said before… the trials… do be careful and look after yourself. EIRA: I— ELION: Yes, I know. You’re strong. And more formidable people than you have been ground to dust in those games. Even if you do survive… I hope that when you come out on the other side, you’ll still remember just how strong you were.

[copperbadge]

I feel like I could write roughly ten thousand words about my newly formed and extremely complex relationship with Amsterdam, given I only spent six hours there and two of those were in the train station. I have three or four posts in my head about it, from "Why is every indoor space in this city kept at roughly the boiling point of Tungsten" to "The Nice Things That Happened To Me In Amsterdam" to "That Time Someone Stole My Stroopwafel" but I think you all will be most entertained by the fact that I have a new feud, and it is with the entire Rijksmuseum.

I've been in museums that were a bit crap and museums that didn't interest me and even museums like today's that were physically uncomfortable, but I have never so hated a museum as I hated the Rijksmuseum by the time I left it.

And it's not the Rijksmuseum's fault! Yes, there are issues with the museum's physical structure -- the insane number of stairs and lack of lifts, the fact that the thermostat could be turned down from "temperature of the sun" to "next door to hell" if they wanted, the bizarrely poor lighting -- but not all of those can be fixed, and they're clearly doing their best. Plus it was mad crowded. But I've been in crowded, poorly-designed spaces before and always found something to love. There was nothing for me in the Rijksmuseum.

So I don't think it's the museum itself. I think that museum and I have some kind of spiritual feud. I think the museum feels actively malevolent to me in a way few buildings ever have because it hates me, personally. I don't know why -- could be to do with my Dutch ancestor who left Amsterdam (the infamous Mennonite Pirate) or perhaps it knows my heart truly belongs to the Art Institute and this is spite. In any case, it may think it has won, but I'm retreating strategically. Someday I will come back to Amsterdam and I will fight the Rijksmuseum and we will settle this once and for all. Bicycles will undoubtedly be involved.

I will eventually do a post about the lovely things I did in Amsterdam, including the grocery store (also kept at the melting point of steel, unfortunately) and Albert Cuyp Market, where I got the stroopwafel (eventually) and bought a nice new bag, and even the genuinely best part of the day, where I walked down a side street to Sarphatipark and discovered that Amsterdam is really very beautiful and quiet if you step off the main roads. @rumtastique I have to apologize for being mortal enemies with the Rijksmuseum but as mentioned in comments you did absolutely save my life when I consulted my notes from talks we'd had about Amsterdam and took advantage of all your good advice (particularly the advice about having cash on hand). (Josh, I didn't get to the bakery you recommended but I really wanted to. I'm keeping it in my notes for next time.)

Still, while I will make those posts, I have been awake since 3am and that's part of the problem, so I'm going to set an alarm to wake me before we reach Paris, and sleep until then.

This isn't over, Rijksmuseum. And next time I'll come prepared: I'll wear a tank top.

[lizard-dumbass]

I am STRUGGLING to convey through text what Rite Here Rite Now has done to my mental state. ITS SO GOOD WHAT THE HELL

MASSIVE spoilers under the cut so be warned‼️

Its so funny and the production quality is absolutwly through the ROOF and the character development and story progression amd the THEMES????? i didnt realize it while watching the movie but its actually pretty deep with its themes and messages. This silly concert movie has something genuinely profound to say about life and living in the moment through both the good and the bad and remembering who and what came before you and the impact of music on our lives.

Also i'm so glad that Copia didn't get killed off like many of us probably thought he would (myself included). Not just because i love him and he's my favorite papa, but because of the fact that it reinforces the message of living life through all the bad moments because the good moments are what bring us together and make life so beautiful, even though they only last for a short while.

The fact that Copia keeps on living in spite of the hardships he's faced fills me with so much hope. After everything he's been through; bad relationships with his parents, being shunned from the Emeritus family, pressure from The Clergy, the loss of all of his brothers, all the work he put in to please the ministry and entertain millions of fans across the globe, seeing his own mother die in front of him, he keeps going.

He's now been annointed to a new position: head of The Clergy. He probably never thought he'd come this far, yet here he is. He's all alone. Everyone is gone but him (well except for his twin brother i guess). But despite it all, he's still here. He may have given up the limelight but he still continues to serve a purpose through his new position as Frater Imperator. He's finally learned to live life in the moment, right here, right now.

But good lord let this man take a break he's been through enough lmao. I didn't expect that last segment to get so long but it literally just hit me how fantastic the plot of this movie is as im writing this. RHRN is like 90% concert movie and 10% story and the story is undoubtably my favorite part of the movie. But i really love the concert stuff too. Like i said, the production quality is INSANE i am going to listen to the soundtrack so obsessively when it comes out! And seeing the crowd having such a good time was really heartwarming too. There's genuinely so much to talk about with RHRN and its a fucking concert movie. Tobias once again proving that he is a creative genius.

Uhh anyway sorry this was so rambly and poorly structured but i really just need to get my thoughts out there because seeing this movie finally come into existince has been such a surreal and wonderful experience and i love this band even more now. My ghost brainrot is severe and i will be making it everyone's problem