#he's quite possibly one of the most evil characters in the series for me

[torchwood-99]

"'...How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price? When all the men were dead, you were to pick your share of the treasure, and take the woman you desire? Too long have you watched her under your eyelids and haunted her steps.'"

Gandalf to Grima, The King of the Golden Hall

Never forgetting that the reason Grima Wormtongue turned to Saruman was because he was lured in with the promise of being able to rape Eowyn. Eowyn was offered to him like bait and he took it.

Wormtongue was a monster before he turned to Saruman. A man with basic decency doesn't turn traitor because he was offered the chance to force an unwilling woman to marry him.

[uglypastels]

Not Wholly Evil |X| pirate!Eddie au

a/n here it is. the final chapter. I am so excited to share it with you all, just as much as it pains me that it actually is coming to an end. I've worked on this story for almost a year, and it had been a risk I had no idea how it would play out, but seeing how much everyone has enjoyed this story and supported me in my little experiment really made all the days I say in front of my computer screaming worth it <3 thank you all so so much for trusting the process

Series Masterlist

word count: 14.3k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. near-death experiences. hanging. men are pigs: implied mentions of past abusive experiences [of background characters]. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. prison. capital punishment.

there will be several mentions of other ST characters in this chapter, and some instances might not be the most favourable of portrayals, but this is not to indicate my opinion on them. I am simply intertwining universes. there is also a name spelled differently than in the shows and that's just for the sake of the setting.

Chapter 10: Lock and Key

“Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do. Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth. But the captain had long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality by not dying.” ― Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic

Everything went into chaos, happening so quickly that you genuinely got the sensation of being frozen in time and space, just letting everything around you go by, unable to intervene. Your mind could not work at that speed to understand everything that was happening, too far down into a shock to catch up. But when you finally did, you screamed. 

‘No, father, no.’ You tried to push yourself away from him, but his grip was too firm. Even if you had, the chances of getting past the barricade of armed bodies to Eddie was impossible. ‘You can’t do that!’ you trashed around in his arms like a wild fish out of water. 

All your father did was pull you closer, further away from Eddie, who you could just make out from between the uniforms and bayonets. The glimpses you got of his face showed a stoic expression. He wasn’t even trying to fight it. The last thing you saw before you were turned around and practically handed over to someone was the chains on his wrists. 

‘Take her away from here,’ your father told his closest guard, ‘she’s hysteric.’ And perhaps you were, as you kept screaming at them to let go of you. The pleas quieted down the further from the harbour you got, changing into silent sobs by the time you reached the gardens of your home.

‘It’s alright, miss,’ the guard tried to calm you as best as possible. ‘You’re safe now.’ 

The pearly white building towered over you as you entered its shadows, and as soon as you did, you saw almost the entirety of the house staff standing in the main hall, awaiting you. Their faces blurred with their welcoming greetings and sweet words of comfort. A woman took you from the guard, immediately guiding you up the stairs, mumbling something to him and shouting about to the rest of the people around. You could not place any name to her face, and having always been quite good with remembering people, you could only assume she had been a new addition to the staff since you had last been home. Looking over everyone around you, most of them must have been. 

That’s right. Your father had always been keen on replacing the staff but usually had been around to witness it, take in the new batch from the beginning, and, most importantly, say goodbye to the old ones.

You wanted to protest at every corner you turned up to your room, but the group of maids that had accumulated around you was like a forcefield, unbreakable. One of them opened the large double doors that led to your room. There was barely any time for you to sink in the feeling of being back in it after so many weeks as you were pushed through another pair of doors. There, a bath had already been prepared, the water steaming hot. You let yourself be dragged to the centre of the room and mechanically put your arms up for the ladies to take your dress off. Had they always been this rough? 

They mumbled about the state of your dress to one another as if you weren’t even there, and in their defence, you weren’t. Your mind was miles away, barely aware of what was going on. The only thing that pulled you back into the room was the gasp of the women as your dress fell to the floor. You looked down at where all their eyes had locked in on. 

‘Did they do this to you, miss?’ One of them asked, pointing in fear at the scar on your ribs. It had gotten much smaller over the weeks, but compared to the rest of you, you could imagine how grotesque it might look to people like them. 

‘Uhm, no,’ you mumbled, ‘I tripped. On our ship.’ You barely recognised your voice as you spoke, too tired to put any emotion into them. The women looked at each other hesitantly before continuing on with their tasks. 

 You just about felt the hot water burn as they got you into the bath or poured it over your head to wash your hair. The scrub of the cloths over your limbs did practically nothing. All you could do was stare out ahead of you at the hawk engraved into the wood panelling on the wall across from you and how you had always seen it as a sign of comfort but now noticed how angry its eye looked. Staring directly at you at all times. You lulled your head slowly, trying to get it to look away, but it just followed you around until someone grabbed you by the side to stop you from twisting. 

‘Sorry, miss. Just trying to get out this knot.’ One of them said as she combed out your hair, tugging your entire head back against the edge of the bath. 

You had not even realised how much grime came with being on a boat full of pirates for weeks. Even though you had tried to wash yourself regularly, there was never enough fresh water. By the time the ladies were done, the water had gone cold, and your whole body was red and sore from the scrubbing.  You could barely feel your fingertips, but your nails were perfect again. 

Trembling, you got out of the bath and quickly were wrapped up in linen to soak up the water. Like any other day, they began to put your undergarments on, preparing you for a dress that you could not even think about the weight of, but no matter how many layers they put on you, you were still shivering.

Someone, you had no idea who, pulled a blanket over your shoulders and put a large cup of lemon tea into your hands. It used to be your favourite, but the sips tasted bitter no matter how much sugar you poured. You stood in the middle of the room, holding the cup and felt all their eyes on you, drinking your tea with a shaky hand. No matter how you held it or steadied your arms, the porcelain clinked together louder and louder until it smashed onto the ground, the hot liquid pooling around you. Before you could apologise, someone was on their knees cleaning it up. 

‘I am so sorry,’ you cried out, tears already threatening to return despite it being only a few minutes since they had dried up. With water pouring over your face and hair in the bath, the tears would have been washed away, but now there was nowhere to hide them.

‘No worries, miss,’ one of the maids said. She looked you up and down, a corset in her hands, clearly seeing a mess of a woman in front of her. ‘We should get you ready; there is a meal waiting downstairs and I am sure you’re famished.’

‘I am alright, I just want to—’ you wanted to disappear. Get out of everyone’s sight. You wanted to lock yourself in your room or run away, just be anywhere but here, surrounded by these strangers. You wanted Eddie. Where was he now? He must have been dragged into the dungeons. 

You pushed back the next load of tears that were breaking through.

‘Miss, we must insist.’ The maid said, somewhat concerned, and hesitated. ‘The food will do you good.’ And yet, the idea of eating now made you feel quite ill to the stomach.

‘I would really just like to be alone now.’ If you had more energy, your statement might have come out more pointed, giving you more edge over the staff. You would have fought them until you’d slam the door behind the last one, but instead, you let yourself be trapped into a dress—a beautiful green garment that the women were not shy to praise as they put it on you—and sent you off to the dining room.

Once, you would have walked these halls alone,  with your head held high and letting the steps of your heels announce your presence in any room, but now the clicking against the marble floors made you wince and the presence of the maids and guards following you certainly did not help to put your mind at rest. 

The dining table was set, filled from one end to the other with dishes, but you could barely stomach a spoonful. The same happened at dinner. You could not think of eating these extensive meals knowing that Eddie was kept locked up somewhere, most likely not given anything to eat since he had been arrested. Your mind was whirring with ideas, but each and everyone was immediately halted when you saw that there was nowhere in the house you could go without onlookers. The chances of you being allowed into the dungeons and speaking to him were close to zero. 

Having eaten exactly two bites from your plate, you excused yourself back to your room, where people were ready to get you out of your dress and into your nightgown. Once done, one of the maids was prepared to blow all the candles out, but you quickly stopped her. 

‘Wait,’ you called, ‘could you leave one on, please.’ 

The woman nodded and left one of the candles in the holder burning before leaving the room. You sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to catch your breath, but the room felt so stuffy—a ridiculous thought considering the room was bigger than Eddie’s quarters, possibly the double of it. The candle only gave light to its nearest surroundings, letting the rest of the space, and you with it, be eaten up by the night. It was overwhelming, together with the hot air swallowing you whole. As your chest tightened, you ran to the window, pushing it open. You greeted the cool night air with a sigh. 

Nights at home were never quiet, but unlike in Saint Claire, it was not drunken brawls that kept the shores alive but the rustle of waves and the chirping cicadas. The streets buzzed with the sounds of nature, illuminated in silver by the moon, now an almost complete sphere. 

You had always loved the view of your room, but now it felt more like a cruel joke as you could look out at the harbour and the gates of Star Port. It was like a million pinpricks stabbing into you. The Hellfire was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t expect anything less. With Eddie arrested, it would have been mad of the crew to stay behind, risking their own capture. 

Still, the feeling you got at the sight of the empty harbour sank deep into your stomach, not helping with how you had felt before opening the blinds, and when you closed them again, the room seemed to have grown in size. Large, cold, empty, with you standing in the middle staring at your bed. Sitting on it, let alone sleeping, was impossible. The second you touched the mattress, you were scared you’d sink straight through the cotton, and the sheer size of it…

You lay there for hours, deciding whether to curl up and make yourself as small as possible or to spread your arms out in a poor attempt at taking up some of the space meant only for you. Every time you moved, your hand would grab for the sheets, hoping that one of those times, you would feel more than air. If you opened your eyes, you would see him sleeping peacefully by your side. 

Most of your pillows had met the ground as you threw them in frustration.  You had spent years in this bed, perfectly fine, and only several days with Eddie. So, why were you feeling this profound loss over his absence besides you? It wasn’t fair. 

Eventually, you managed to fall to sleep, quite literally, as pure exhaustion tipped you over and made your head finally hit down. There were no dreams, nightmares or memories to haunt you, as you were awoken before any of them could take shape. Firm knocks on the door announced your maids, and they filled the room in their designated corners. 

‘Good morning, miss.’ They said chirpily as they got you dressed and ready for another day. All you replied with throughout the entire process was a mumbled ‘’morning,’ which you hoped could be blamed for having only been awake for a few minutes.

‘Breakfast will be served soon,’ you heard. The mention of food again twisted at your guts, but an idea began to bloom in your mind.

‘Will my father be there?’ He seldom dined with you, leaving you to eat your meals in the company of the staff, but you assumed he would want to see you after all these weeks.

‘I assume so,’ the woman brushing your hair said. You nodded curtly, as much as possible, when someone held on to your head. The prospect of speaking to your father face to face brought a new energy into your step. 

You walked out of that room determined and with your head held high, only to be disturbed by footsteps parallel to yours. Two pairs. At first, you thought it was a coincidence, and they just happened to be walking there, too, but they followed you down the hallway, around all the corners. By the time you reached the dining room doors, you had grown tired of it.

‘I am quite capable of walking on my own, thank you,’ you said, coming to an abrupt stop, making the two men behind you  ‘have done it all my life, in fact.’

‘Yes, of course, miss,’ said one of the guards who you bumped into at your sudden halt. ‘It is just—’

‘Just what?’ You crossed your arms.

‘Well, your father—’ he stopped speaking at the sight of your unimpressed, somewhat annoyed expression. He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation. ‘We are here to protect you.’

‘From what exactly?’ This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

‘From any danger, miss.’

‘I was not aware this house was so full of threats.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘I appreciate the efforts, gentlemen, but I doubt you will be needed.’

‘But your father, miss.’ The other man tried to argue, but you were not having any of it.

‘I will not be patrolled in my own home!’ You shouted, pushing the doors to the dining room open. Your father sat at the opposite end of the large table, fork mid-air to his mouth. ‘Father, this is absurd.’

‘I think it is perfectly reasonable to want to protect my daughter. What is absurd,’ much to your annoyance, he spoke in his usual collected and cool-toned manner. He waited to continue speaking until you sat at the table. ‘Is you being held hostage for weeks at the hands of some barbarians.’

‘They are not barbarians, Father,’ you ignored the hands that spooned food onto your plate. ‘They took rather good care of me, actually.’ You bit your cheek, trying not to think of the days you spent in a cage. But even considering that, you were aware of your fortune with the circumstances you had been put under. Many more people had encountered enemies at sea, and few had been able to return home and live to tell the tale… or the preferred version of events, at least. 

‘Is that why you look so sick and frail?’ he spoke bluntly, taking you back. ‘Because of how well they treated you?’

‘They did their best with what they had,’ you believed. It was your choice to starve yourself for the first days on board, refusing to eat anything they gave you. And you could hardly expect a feast such as you held in front of you now, every day in the middle of the deep waters. Even on board the Red Tail, the meals had been somewhat shoddy. ‘I just do not think that…’ you stopped yourself from using his name. ‘That man deserves to be in prison.’

‘Of course not.’ Your father took a bite. ‘He will be hanged for his crimes.’

‘W-what?’ Your fork clattered onto the ground. ‘Father, you cannot— I know he had tried to take money from you but—’ Murder and high treason. That is what he was arrested for. Had your father somehow found out about the Red Tail? But how could he… there were no survivors. 

No survivors. He killed them all. He had— 

‘Do you know who that man is?’ Something in your father’s voice sounded sharper, more pointed. 

‘I thought so,’ you hesitated. Yes, you had spent your days and most tender moments with him, but what did you know about Eddie Munson?

‘Then you should understand the severity of this situation.’ Only if you were to believe hearsay and talk of the people on the streets that shaped this image of a blood-thirsty monster that roamed the seven seas, killing everything in his path. It is what you believed him to be yourself until not very long ago until practically every fibre in your body had been proven wrong.

Or at least, God, you hoped you had been wrong.

Your father sighed, ‘I know it is difficult, after all you must have spent a lot of time with them on that ship, and I do not know what lies they had fed you, but these are serious matters that begun long before any of this and need to finally be taken care of.’

‘Well, explain it to me because I would like to know what is happening.’ 

At this, he scoffed. ‘All you need to know is that man is a dangerous criminal and should be treated as such.’ But then, what about everything Eddie had told you? What about all the pieces you had managed to gather of the crumbs he and everyone else left you? There was more to it all, and maybe you did not understand yet, but you would.

‘When?’ you plucked at your food on the plate, defeated, ‘when is the hanging?’

‘In four days.’ If you had been well enough to eat, you would have choked. You had barely come to terms with returning home, if at all, and now this. Prisoners were usually held for weeks before a date was set for an execution. They were clearly adamant about taking care of him quickly. 

For the sake of everyone else, you ate a bit of your breakfast, each bite sticking uncomfortably heavy in your throat.  After that, you got up without saying another word. The two guards who had walked in with you were on high alert again, ready to follow you, but stopped to look nervously at the governor when you glared at them. 

‘Let her go,’ he waved them off, ‘but keep an eye on her.’

You huffed out a breath and walked away. 

The rest of the day you spent walking around the town, mainly the alley of the market that led to one of the entrances to the dungeons. You had no idea why you were there, considering there was nothing you could do. Besides the fact you could clearly see the new set of guards appointed to follow you around the streets, they seemed utterly futile, considering all eyes in the street were on you. Every person there was highly aware of your presence. 

You used to walk around the market nearly daily, making polite chats with the salesmen as you bought fresh fruit to later eat at the shore or in the garden. Most people knew that you had decided to join the Red Tail on their voyage primarily because of your enthusiasm to finally leave the island and go on an adventure.

It must have taken quite some time, they would say in some form or another, to convince your father.

I can be quite persuasive when I have to be; you remember how proud you had felt. After months of begging everyone around you to let you go, promising them that you would be safe and careful and not get in the way of anyone, finally, they let you go. Under Admiral Carver’s watch, you spent weeks enjoying the breeze and the waves, awaiting what the rest of the world would bring.

The ship sailed for four weeks to another naval post. You did not know their exact business, nor did you care, as you now had a whole new land to explore. The city was larger and nothing like home. The people looked different and spoke an entirely different language, but you still managed to get around and on the market behind your house. It had been excellent and eye-opening, only making you more eager to see what else to discover. But unfortunately, there was only so little time, and before you knew it, you had to return home. You remember the last day. It had been raining, but it did not stop anyone from loading the new supplies. Somehow it seemed like much more needed to be brought on board for this half of the journey than the first. 

What’s in those barrels, you asked, but no one ever replied. They barely ever did. It wasn’t your place to ask questions in these matters. You were simply a passenger on the ship, verging on stowaway, spending your days in the quiet of your own room for the most part until…

It was the middle of the day, and the sun burned above you brightly, yet you shivered. You had always known to trust your father’s judgement and his decisions, but there was no possible way in which this was right. That this was how it would end.

The alleyway practically screamed at you for you to go and run in and get him out of there, but with so many people watching, it would be hopeless. The guards would get you before you had even reached the stairs. You would have to wait.

‘It’s good to see you again, miss.’ A voice pulled you out of your thoughts. It took you a few slow blinks to realise who it was.

‘Oh, you too, Mr Bowman.’ you smiled towards the merchant as he smiled at you through his bushy beard. He was sitting next to his table of… you were not sure what to call them. The man was quite the eccentric, and you had barely ever seen him actually make a sale on any of his products, but you doubted he was there for business anyway. ‘Have I missed much in the past months?’ You could always count on him for good stories about the townsfolk. The man had all his senses on sharp, constantly vigilant of everything around him. 

‘I think your return is the biggest news we’ve had in a while.’ He scratched his beard, ‘That, and well, the upcoming execution, of course.’

‘People already know?’ You blinked, not having expected that to be public knowledge yet. Then again, it is an event like no other. Preparations have to be made.

‘Edward the Banished gets arrested, and you expect people not to know?’ He laughed almost mockingly as he usually did, but you looked at him blankly.

‘The Banished?’ you had heard much about Eddie, but this name was new to your ears. 

‘Yes, ridiculous name, if you ask me,’ he waved it off, ‘Pure sensationalism as it rolls smoother on the tongue than deserter or runagate, quisling, traitor—’

‘I understand,’ you stopped him nervously. ‘But how did he get this name? What did he do?’

‘HA!’ he startled you with volume. ‘What didn’t he do, you should ask.’ This caused many of the other merchants around you to weigh in on the subject. 

‘I heard he abducted the governor’s daughter.’

‘That’s her. She’s right here.’

‘Oh. Well, he had attempted to assassinate the king of England!’

‘The Prince, you blockhead. And he did kill him!’

‘He has burned entire islands down. All over a game of cards.’

‘Stole an entire fleet and handed it over to the Spanish, just like that.’

‘He drinks the blood of his enemies!’

‘Sold his soul to the devil!’

Everyone looked at the old man that shouted this out. You were afraid to ask more questions, so let the others do this for you. ‘What do you mean, he sold his soul?’ 

‘He did! Did all those things to offer himself to Satan and do his dirty deeds here on earth. He is cursed to sail the seas in his wicked ship with the unrighteous crew for all eternity.’

‘Well, that eternity won’t last much longer.’ Someone commented, resulting in a chuckle around the street. Most of the people laughed, but you stayed quiet, your mind going back to Eddie, his body covered in unexplainable scars. The wind suddenly grew stronger.

‘I’m telling you,’ the man continued, ‘we won’t get rid of him yet! Not until Hell freezes over!’

‘Someone give the man a hat; he’s had too much sun,’ Mr Bowman called, rich coming from him, whose balding head was burning bright red. He then turned to you, shrugging as the rest had clearly proven his point. ‘And that is why I do not mess around with pirates, deary, no matter how charming they may seem.’

‘Excuse me?’ were the first words coming out of your mouth in the last few minutes, and you quickly regretted having them form into another question. 

‘I saw you two yesterday at the arrest.’ Of course, he had. Nothing around here ever escaped this man. He looked proud of himself for having witnessed the events. ‘It was quite dramatic, seeing lovers have to be broken apart like that.’

‘I think you might have had too much sun today,’ you tried to sound casual as you laughed it off. 

‘I am not here to judge,’ he said, putting his hands up in surrender, ‘simply to advise.’ 

‘Thank you, Mr Bowman.’ You smiled politely, ready to escape the conversation. You had been used to him often throwing around false and farfetched accusations, and even listening to this conversation, you knew it was nothing if not complete nonsense, just gossip gone too far along the years. So now that he had actually been correct, it stunned you, even maybe scared you. What would the people around you think if they knew what happened between you and Eddie? How would they react if they knew how you felt about his death sentence? You would be deemed mad. 

Of course, the not-so-inconspicuous guards followed you back to your room, where you stayed for the rest of the day until it was time for dinner. Your father did not join you this time. As hunger finally struck you, fighting nausea caused by the stress of the last few days, you ate everything served to you. 

On the ship, you had thought that once you came back, you wouldn't be able to stop eating all the things you had been missing for months, but nothing tasted as good as you remembered. In fact, nothing was as good as you remembered. The food was bland, the flowers not as vibrant, and the people not as joyous. Once, you had heard laughter and chatter, but it seemed like the streets grew cold and silent, leaving you alone to your thoughts. 

After your meal, you walked out of the room but turned left instead of taking the right towards your room. People immediately caught on. 

‘Miss? Where are you going?’ A guard called out.

‘Oh,’ you attempted to sound like you had not expected this exact conversation when you moved, ‘just thought of going on a stroll. The night air does me rather well.’ You grinned in a way you hoped would come off naive. 

‘I do not think that’s a good idea.’ The guard said. ‘I would suggest that you return to your room,’ he spoke in a tone telling you that it was not a suggestion at all. Not in the slightest.

‘Am I on house arrest?’

‘See it more as a curfew.’ 

You scoffed at the idea, or more that you had very little choice but to obey. There was a moment in which you stared up at the guard, switching between expressions to get him to crack and let you go, but to your disappointment, he cocked his head toward your room. 

How were you ever supposed to get to Eddie if they constantly watched you? The question kept you up another whole night and the next day. Just for the sake of it, since they so desperately needed to be with you at all times, you decided to sit in the library for about four hours with no book in sight, just staring out the window, letting them stare at you. At a certain point, you had caught one man actually yawning.

‘I am absolutely certain that there are at least fifty things that would be more  productive for you to do then this,’ you broke the deafening, maddening silence, still looking out the window. You had counted all the leaves on the tree branch that kept hitting the pane in the breeze and had recollected every corridor and door in the house. In the reflection of the glass, you could see the guards glance nervously at each other, and with a smile, you turned to face them. ‘You can just go. I won’t tell anyone.’ But they stood their ground. With a groan, you sank back down into the chair. 

It would take much longer for them to break, so much more time that you—that  Eddie—did not possess. Three days left before the execution. Three days left for you to take the chance and do something. Save him. There were a million ideas, one worse after the other, with so many risks and problems that it could eventually end in your own hanging. 

You shut your door at the end of the day, and it must have sounded through the entire house. Another day gone, and you had gotten nowhere. You could see the shadows of their feet come through the gap underneath your door, and they would be there the next morning when you awoke. Sleep deprived from tossing and turning as long as the sun was down. The bed still felt too big for comfort. At one point, they had run into the room at the sound of muffled screams, just for you to pull your head out of your pillow to yell at them to get out. 

You walked towards the dining room for breakfast, this time wearing a rose gold dress, surprised not to be followed by a parade of footsteps but halted at the sound of voices coming from inside the hall. 

‘I think it is safe to say that she does not require any supervision, sir.’ one of the guards said. You never bothered to learn their names, too frustrated to care, but you learned to recognise their voices from the amount of squabbling you had done. 

‘Is that so?’ your father munched away. 

‘She does nothing but mope around all day, quite harmless, I’d say… uhh, sir.’ The other added. 

Mope? You did not mope, if only because they sucked your life out with their constant “supervision”. As much as you wanted to burst into the room, you composed yourself and listened on. 

‘Does she seem well, in the head, I mean?’ Your father asked, but they did not reply. Not verbally, at least; you could imagine them looking at each other in the way they did, and just the idea made you clench your fists until they turned pale.

‘She’s stubborn, a bit immature, a bit aggressive.’ One of them chose his words carefully and slowly.

‘So that’s a no, I take it,’ your father concluded. You took this as your opportunity to announce yourself with a few loud steps, moving back a few paces to repeat them with exaggeration. 

‘Good evening, father,’ you said as you took your seat, not giving him or the other man any more of your attention. The guards glanced at you nervously before leaving the room.

‘Terrorised the guards, I see?’ he asked.

‘No more than they did me,’ you replied in the same emotionless tone as you ate.

‘I just wanted what’s best for you. It had been a tumultuous time, and you had gone through quite– ’

‘Is that a reason to… to lock me up and have me followed around like some kind of—’ You were at a loss for words, so instead, opted for a frustrated groan and stuffing your face with a forkful of lamb. 

‘Well, you’ve proved me wrong. Clearly, you can still care for yourself.’ he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. ‘I’ll make them let you be from now on,’ and with that, he walked away. You couldn’t suppress the smile that rose to your lips once the doors closed behind him, immediately knowing the first place you were heading to with your newfound “freedom”. 

The kitchen. 

Well, that is not exactly the first thing. You had to wait for all the dishes to be cleared from the dining room, so you wandered around the corridors and then headed down the stairs as quietly as possible to not raise any attention to yourself. 

As suspected, the kitchen was empty. Most of the food on the plates still untouched. Quietly, you grabbed a basket and began picking things out here and there, those that would go unnoticed by anyone walking in to grab a midnight snack. The only thing that might have caught someone’s attention by going missing was one of the larger bottles of rum stacked on a shelf. 

You placed a napkin over the basket's content and grabbed one of the staff member’s hoods to cover yourself up with before heading outside. It would help against the cold night air and hopefully make you a bit less noticeable, as the grey hood did not stand out as much as your extravagant dress. As you took the first steps out into the garden, the idea came to you that maybe that was another idea of them trying to keep you inside these walls. After all, while you had always had nice clothing, it did not compare to the dresses you’ve worn since your return. It could be seen as a welcome home gift, but it was undeniable that the dress you wore now could be spotted from miles away.

You pulled the cloak tighter over yourself.

Besides a few men who were too drunk to notice or care who you were, the streets were also empty. The men standing at the prison doors were half asleep, and either way, you were not too anxious about them as they were usually more preoccupied with keeping people in than out. You slipped through the shadows into the alley and only dared to breathe once inside. The steps leading further into the building were uneven, especially in the dark. The only light was half-burned-up torches lining the path. A crinkly small corridor that eventually led to a crooked staircase. You could barely keep yourself up straight, almost tripping over your feet. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, where the dungeon's entrance stood, took almost longer than the walk to the building across town as you held onto the cold wall, doing your best not to fall.

Now, you could only pray that the final door was not locked. The handle wiggled and creaked open. 

You hesitated. What would await you inside? This whole trek had been based on your intuition that he would be put in one of the isolated cells, away from the petty criminals. But what if they kept him somewhere else? What if they had done something to him and… well, there was only one way to find out.

As you stepped into the caved-out room and almost instantaneously, never before had you felt such a cold fall over you. Maybe it was due to the thick walls absorbing all sound or how the slit-like windows below the ceiling only let through the tiniest slivers of moonlight, obstructing any of the day’s heat from entering the room. Or maybe it was the sight of him in the pale torchlight that chilled you to the bone. 

He was seated on the ground, framed by a cell jagged from rock and steel bars. The moonlight managed to just about frame his face, exhausted and fragile. His eyes were closed in pretend sleep. You could tell that much as his brows furrowed at the sound of your footsteps. You tried to call out to him, but your throat was stuck. But you didn’t need to say anything. He called your name in a weak voice, in a hesitant manner, as if he was making sure that what he saw was real. If you were really there. 

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked in disbelief.

What were you doing here?  You had been asking yourself this the entire walk up to the cells, trying to find a reason why it meant so much to you to see him again, to help him, and yet you still could not come up with anything. There was no response besides holding up the basket with a weak smile and saying, ‘I thought you would like some dinner.’ 

Eddie sat straight, pulling himself up by one of the cell bars. As you walked up to his cell and sat down on the ground beside him, you could feel his eyes on you. Pure disbelief at your presence, the food. You held the meat out to him, but he did not move. 

‘It is not poisoned,’ you smiled sheepishly, ‘if that is what you’re wondering.’ Even when you handed him the food to eat. He did so slowly, apprehensively at first, still unable to look away from you. Perfectly understandable. You had barely gotten used to this. How the beading and frame of the dress poked at you from every angle. Your feet hurt, and your hair had been pulled into an intricate hairstyle, causing you to walk around with a headache for hours. Not that it was anything to compare to Eddie’s circumstances. He sat in his cell, too small to stretch his body out in, with no bed, just the cold hard ground. They had removed his jacket and belt, leaving him to sit out the cold of the night in just his shirt. You also noticed a new bruise forming on his jaw, which certainly had not been there when you last saw him. All this to break him down, yet the way he looked at you—you could have sworn you were still lying together in his bed, far away from all this. 

He glanced down at your dress, how it pooled around you, almost leaking through the cell barriers up to him in all its opulence. ‘How the tables have turners, haven’t they, princess,’ he chuckled, and you had never thought to be so happy from hearing such a simple sound. The nickname felt deliberately chosen at this time, too. You pulled at the edges of your dress, collecting it closer to you.

‘I know, I look ridiculous.’ 

‘I think the word you’re looking for is beautiful,’ he said between bites, but you ignored the compliment, knowing that if you let it get to you, it would come together with a shower of tears. As he kept on eating his food, you sighed, letting your side hit the wall as you leaned up to him. You handed him more of the food that you had brought him and the rum, then let him finish in silence. His mere presence beside you already was more than enough. The sound of his deep calm breaths was enough to put you to rest, and it pleased you that the sea had not left him just yet. He still smelled of it. That fresh sea salt air was simply stuck in his hair. You refrained from combing your fingers through it.

This was already so far from what you had expected things to go like. You had thought that once you came home, even with his request for a hefty payment, he would still be welcomed as a hero. That you could make things work and somehow, maybe, naively, be together. Even now, you thought that if he saw you here, you would have some kind of moment of clarity where everything became crystal clear and easy to understand. That you would know exactly what to do, and it would be glorious. You thought he would be happy to see you. Never had you imagined him asking you again, ‘What are you doing here? Really.’

‘I wanted to see you,’ you said, but he could read past all your layers. ‘And… over the past few days, I have heard things. About you. Things that I can hardly believe to be true and yet are seen as such by the majority of people, so I hoped you could clear some things up for me.’

‘You don’t believe your own people but would believe me?’ He took a swig of the rum, already handing it back to you, but you declined, giving it back.

‘I have given you my trust more times than I should have, and so far, it has not led me down any dark paths, but I can only hope that you will not break that bond now.’ After all that you had been through? Was he in any position to do so? ‘So I hope you will tell me what really happened. I—I remember you, years ago, meeting with my father and Carver. You were in the military, right?’

Eddie let his head roll back, hitting the wall behind him with a shallow thud. ‘You remember me?’ 

‘It came to me during the storm. A memory of you walking with them in the garden. For the longest time, I could not make sense if it had been real or if my mind playing tricks on me, but I realised now what it was.  You looked different, but it was you, wasn’t it? You were like them?’ 

‘Turns out, maybe I still am, and more than you’d think,’  he sighed, ‘or less, depending on how you look at it.’ He took another sip of the drink. 

‘Will you tell me, please?’ You pleaded, eagerly awaiting the answers to what you had been trying to figure out long before you had returned home. Eddie looked apprehensive. 

‘What good will it do?’ He turned his head in your direction, still leaning against the wall. You moved over to be closer to him, your legs almost touching. 

‘Perhaps nothing, but—’ you sighed, ‘All my life, I’ve been protected. I’ve had everything handed to me without any trouble. I had spend most of my years never further away than these shores and always under someone’s watch. I had never had the space to make risks or mistakes. There was no such thing as danger. Even now, I had been under constant watch. No one will answer my questions or even listen to me because they want to protect me. Because they think I’m fragile and cannot handle it.’ 

At this, Eddie scoffed. ‘If anything, they cannot handle you, darling.’ 

‘Meanwhile, you,’ you smiled, ignoring the heat burning over your cheeks, ‘Well, perhaps not all your methods were ideal, but you never treated me like I was made of glass. You pushed me, and it actually, for once, made me feel alive and like I am worth being in the room with.’

Eddie reached for your hand. ‘You’re worth so much more than that,’ he mumbled against your knuckled as he kissed them. He held on to you as he began talking slowly, choosing his words wisely. ‘I had joined the navy younger than anyone should have—my parents couldn’t afford me, so I had to make myself useful quickly, and that felt at least somewhat commendable, no matter how it would end. 

‘Started right at the bottom, but I wanted to prove myself. I followed orders, did everything what was asked of me, and more, and I moved through the ranks. As I gained more of a position, I got more of an insight into the men I was working for and with.’ 

As he spoke, you watched his eyes pale, haze over with memories. The dam he had built around them had broken up, flooding out, and he could not stop it anymore.  He wanted to continue, but he hesitated, glancing your way, but you encouraged him to go on with a nod of the head. Even then, he scratched at his face nervously and took a deep breath. 

‘We would find ourselves everywhere around the world, and a certain power comes with wearing a uniform. It is universal, one that everyone understands and is willing to abuse. It was easy to see yourself as better than the poor locals, to excuse yourself from the import taxes and all the bureaucracy around the travel. I had done it myself, flashing a grin with the mindset of superiority.’ He hid his face in his hands, groaning. You reached out for his arm. 

‘Hey, it’s okay,’ you hushed, but was it really?

‘When you get that taste of power when it hits right, it is hard to let go. It had never sat well with me; every time I got away from a port without paying for my ship, I stayed up entire nights as the guilt ate away from me, but it had been what everyone else was doing, and you don’t want to fall behind. It had become a pressure to boast your power over those who did not have any. 

‘And this power…. it turned darker as simple actions of business turned to abuse. Swindling merchants of their products, conning drunks with games, and stealing their money. Taking advantage of… everyone. It had become a sport to them.

‘I was aware of it, but it had somehow never seemed that serious—it happened so gradually—until one day I saw one of the commanders with this girl…’ his breath hitched. You squeezed his hand to remind him that you were there, that you were listening. ‘She was just a child, and when I saw what he—I lost control of myself, lashed out at him. It had been stupid trying to argue with someone that outranked me. There was no one I could tell that would do anything about it, not when they were all just as bad.

‘Then Carver came up to me one day. Said that together we could make a change.’ Eddie’s jaw clenched. ‘I should have known better. He had always been too close with the rest of them, but we planned on making a change.

‘But on the day we were about to tell your father about everything that happened on our voyages—the day we saw each other in the garden, in fact,’ he squeezed your hand back. ‘We never got the chance because I was sent away.’ Something in you caught your breath, making him smile lightly. 

‘There had been talk of a war, and so I was sent out with a fleet to take charge. Carver had promised me he would take care of everything in my absence, but—’

‘He didn’t,’ you finished the sentence for him.

‘In a way, he did. Of course, it was all a hoax. He had needed an excuse to get rid of me. It took me three months to get back, having found no signs of possible ambushes, and when I did, I returned to the news that Hargrove, the commander I had attacked, had been found dead that same evening I left. And there was the missing gold and the rumours of a coup, among other things. Somehow, he had convinced everyone I had gone above and beyond in betraying our country, but the murder charges hit the heaviest. They thought I had killed one of our own.

‘The only people on my side had been those on the ship with me, and they had given up all they had by giving me their trust. They were marked as traitors just for standing up against the accusations. I  already had lost everything I had to lose and could not stand by it, so I left. I took my ship and my crew, and we sailed off. 

Bowman’s words rang through your mind as Eddie said this. Deserter. Runagate. Quisling. Traitor. You still wanted to ask him so much, but you let him speak before interrupting. 

‘The sea was a liberation. We were free to do whatever we wanted, so we did, but I always felt like I was tied back to this place. Like…’ he laughed, ‘like a rope was hanging around my neck, dragging me back here. At first, I thought it was guilt, so I did my best to reprimand everything they had done. I wanted to do something for all those men and women we had hurt, give them some form of protection against those uniforms. 

‘But no matter what I did, who I helped, that feeling did not stop. In a way, it grew worse. I got angry and felt like the only thing that would help me was revenge; I stayed up most nights thinking of unimaginable things. I got lost in the darkness of it. If it wasn’t for Harrington, I don’t know what would have become of me.’

‘Harrington?’ You could see how that would happen, but the mention of him somehow startled you. It's another piece of the story that made it feel so real.

‘He had been in a similar position as me. His commanding officer had been asking him to do all these dirty jobs until he had had enough. It had only been a couple of days since he had given up his post when we met one night at a tavern. He wouldn't have joined us if it had not been for a game of cards. Neither would have Robin.’

You had no idea how long you had sat there, just enough for your body to grow cold and stiff on the ground, but you could not care less about any of that, too focused on his story. As he mentioned Steve and Robin, his smile reached his eyes for the first time since you had arrived, revitalising you, knowing that there was still something in his life that left fond memories behind. You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand as you listened on. 

‘Either way, I had fallen into a deep, dark pit, and Steve pulled me out. He showed me what I was doing did no good for anyone but them. It was eating me alive, killing me from the inside.’

‘But you still killed them all.’ The words left your mouth sooner than you could think them through. Knowing his reason behind it all made you understand, but it did not lessen the impact of the deed. 

Hearing you say that, Eddie quickly turned his entire body to you, pulling himself as close to you as possible, almost pushing himself through the bars. His eyes were full of an intensity that burned through your soul.

‘I am not trying to make excuses. I did what I did—I led my crew towards the Red Tail and let them sink that ship, but not for myself. That is what Harrington made me realise. I did not need to see them die, but they needed to pay for everything they had done. For ruining all those people’s lives. You must understand that?’ 

He didn’t need to see them die. Moments flashed before you of your very first seconds on the Hellfire. Of Eddie walking up to you, the words he spoke in front of you. 

– Carver? Where is that pesky little bilge rat? 

– Bled out on the ship. 

– Shame. Would have like to have seen that. ‘You weren’t even there.’ you whispered.

‘It wasn’t about me.’ He shook his head. ‘Besides, if I had been the one to kill them, it would have only satisfied them. To see me become what they had told the world I already was. All I wanted was for them to be gone. Just gone. 

‘None of this,’ his eyes darted over your face. ‘Was meant to happen to you. My men were simply looking for the things in the office that had already been stolen. But then they saw you under that table, they couldn’t leave you. You were innocent.’ His hand reached out to brush over your cheek. Only at his touch did you realise that you had started to cry as he wiped down your tears. ‘And to you, I am truly sorry for everything I put you through.’ 

 You had nothing to reply with but a kiss, pulling him close to you. The steel bars of the cell caused an awkward distance between you, yet you never felt closer. It was as if now, you finally, truly, knew who it was you were touching. The kiss had been brief, but the silence that followed stretched on. The two of you sat there, sinking away from reality, but the questions you still had kept you grounded. Just as Eddie had said, a noose dragging you back. 

‘Eddie,’ you called him carefully. ‘What about the letter?’ 

‘What letter, princess.’ His hand kept rubbing over your tear-stained cheek. 

‘You know which one I mean,’ you pulled back slightly to be able to look properly at him. ‘Who was it for?’ 

He laughed, the saddest laugh you had ever heard come from him, and it pained you from within. ‘What does all this matter? I will be dead soon. The less there is left of me here, the better.’

 You watched him pull himself up again to sit, tap his knuckles on his knee. His answer had angered you. ‘Because…’ you took a deep breath, taking the leap you had been too afraid to take. ‘it just gives me that much less time to know the man I have fallen in love with.’ You wanted to keep as much of him as possible. That is what you could do by listening. To give him that voice in his own story. 

Eddie fell silent. His mouth opened to speak, but no voice came out for several tries. He searched for the right words until he finally blinked slowly and looked up at the ceiling. His jaw clenched once again, in the way that he sucked in a deep breath. As he released it, he said: ‘Her name was Christina.’

‘Your wife?’ Again, you thought of what he had told you earlier. I  already had lost everything I had to lose. He must have had people who cared for him before all this had happened.

‘Fiancée,’ he corrected, not that it mattered to either of you. ‘We had known each other our whole lives, having grown up on the same streets. We kept each other strong with this promise that one-day things would get better. That we would escape from all the burdens and create our own paradise. She was the reason I—’ he couldn’t speak of it out loud, and you didn’t need him to. You didn’t tell him to continue the story when he eventually did. 

‘Foolishly, I had not told her anything of what went on. I told her things would finally be good for us when I returned. We would leave and never turn back. I thought I was protecting her by keeping it all from her, but it was the final nail in my coffin.

 ‘She had been the first person I saw after my return, and I could sense that something was wrong.  Then the guards knocked on the door, and she opened it like she had been expecting them. 

‘I could only assume it was Carver. That he told her what he told everyone else. She wouldn’t look at me, touch me, speak to me. No matter how hard I tried to prove myself, he had poisoned her with his words. In the end, she only saw me as a monster.’ 

The last word stung you in your chest, knowing how often you had used that exact word to describe him yourself. How often have you called him a monster or even worse?  But his openness triggered more memories to come up. Your conversations with the crew of the Red Tail. Their stories and lives. 

‘Christina…’ you mumbled the name with familiarity. ‘That was… that was the name of the admiral’s wife.’

‘It does not come to me as a surprise,’ he chuckled that sad laugh again. He had clearly expected to hear those words eventually. You looked at him, feeling the sting in the corners of your eyes. The tears were coming right back, but he quickly wiped those too. ‘Please, don’t. I do not need your pity. I have told you everything there is to know about me, and that is all I could or ever will ask of you again.’

‘I don’t—’ you wanted to speak, but he quickly went on. As he held your face in his hands, his thumb brushed over your lips, 

‘And I will cherish these moments, every second I spent with you, until my last breath. I will think of you as the sun sets, I promise you.’

‘What—what are you talking about?’ your voice choked between sobs. 

‘I never expected you to come here,’ he kissed you, passing all the feelings he had voiced earlier over to you with the touch of his lips, ‘but don’t come here again.’

‘What? No!’ You pushed yourself away. This wasn’t the plan. You were going to help him. You were going to get him out of here. As you got up to your feet, so did he, reaching for your hand again.

‘Listen to me.’ he gritted his teeth in desperation. ‘There is no way out of here, and it will only get worse for me.’ As he said so, your eyes flashed back to the bruise on his pale skin. ‘I do not want you to see me like that. Let this be where we say our goodbyes.’ He held your hand, finger over your knuckles, soothingly. You hated that he was comforting you at this moment.

‘No,’ you whimpered, head shaking. You turned your hand around in his to grab onto his fingers. One of his skull rings slowly began to slide off, and so you stopped before it dropped.

‘Please,’ he squeezed your hand.

‘No!’ you shouted, not caring if the guards outside could hear you. They might storm inside any second now and drag you out, they could try, but you wouldn’t let them. ‘I won’t let you die.’

‘It’s okay.’ He said. With every sentence he spoke, a new piece of the puzzle had been allotted to its place, but the final picture still blurred before your mind. It only seemed like even more gaps needed to be filled in, but it was slowly coming together, and when it did… You wanted to cry out. 

Eddie held you as best as he could through his restraints, the faintest smile painted over his lips. 

‘You knew, didn’t you?’ you stood there, defeated. ‘That if you would come back here with me, that this would happen. You knew you would be arrested and hanged.’

‘At least now I truly deserve it.’ All the crimes he committed at sea trying to help others, what he had let happen to the Red Tail. ‘So, please, just go. I promise, it will be alright.’ 

You wanted to scream at him. Hit him, punch him, and much more for all of this. You wanted him to hurt as much as you did as he told you to leave, but in reality, you doubted anything you could do to him would match even half of the pain you felt as you stood there. You wanted him to hurt, but all you could do was take one last step forward and pull him in to kiss you. 

When you left, you could still feel him on your lips. That feeling let you move step by step out onto the street. Everything else felt not quite right, not quite real. You walked mindlessly across the empty market, barely aware of your surroundings, until you suddenly stood in front of your room door. You dropped the empty basket at your side and practically floated onto the bed.

It was late; you had no idea what time exactly, but too late for anyone to help you get out of that corset. You lay on the bed, now unable to get up, unwilling to move even if you could, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe you never stopped staring or fell into a slumber, but the next morning you still lay on your back, barely changing position over the early morning hours.

 You sat in your room, looking at the tide coming and going, pushing the sand and the rocks through the hours. The hours blurred; days became night, and the moon turned into the sun. The following two days passed, and you spend them in silent disbelief and confusion, just fighting to not return to the prison cell.

There must be something you could do. People you could convince or pay or bribe in any other way to not let the execution take place. Help him escape. 

This could not be the end.

But Eddie had made his final wish clear. You were not to see him again, and what could you do when no one would listen to you? When everyone on the island had his mind set on what Eddie was? You were paralysed with helplessness, and no matter what you tried to do or what to think about, it just would not go away. It grew inside you, impossible to ever leave you again, and you were slowly making peace with that. Your own price to pay for not being able to do anything for him when he truly needed it.

Even when you arrived at the square, which was filling up with an audience hours before the event, were you trying to look for escape routes, but the more people arrived, the more challenging a wall they created to penetrate. You would never be able to run through it, but you thought of it. Holding his hand, never looking back.

The sun that afternoon was flaming hot, burning through all the layers of your dress that pinned into your ribs as you sat down. The governing families got the best seats on the raised platform in the house, with plush chairs to wait on while everything was prepared. There was only the cool breeze of your fan to cool you down, but it did nothing on your nerves. They burned within just as much as the sun's rays. 

You had not been sure if coming was a good choice or if you were prepared to witness Eddie’s death, but your absence would surely be questioned and… and you could not pass on the ever last possibility of seeing him. The dubiety ran through you with a threat of tears.

But more and more people came around to see, and you traced each face to find someone who could help you. Someone on your side. A familiar ally, but no luck. They were all prepared to see a man die tonight. The mumbling amongst them turned into chatter, and the conversations of local gossip turned to absolute mudslinging.

‘I heard he has killed over a thousand men with his bare hands.’

‘Well, I heard he had planned on taking over the army in order to become the next king!’

‘And I heard—’

‘I heard—’

I heard… One thing after the other, each one worse than the last. Could they not see this? All of it nothing but hearsay. They were putting a man on death row for things overheard at the market. Of course, no one would listen if you were to say this. 

The sky slowly turned a warm orange, glowing on the buildings like a soft fire. The bell in the church tower struck seven times, half through instinct and half through custom, people’s heads turned in one direction. All but yours because as they all looked at the procession—the court man carrying a large scroll of parchment, followed by the executioner, who pulled the chains that were locked around Eddie’s wrists and the two guardsmen behind him, weapons at the ready—you stared ahead at the gallows. The rope hanging on it looked short and could only mean one thing. 

A slow and painful death.

The clanking of the shackles echoed through the entire square with each step Eddie took. He was barely visible through the crowd, but the length of the executioner in front of him ensured everyone could follow the death march.

Eddie looked ill—pale and fragile. His steps were shaking, not improved at all by the heavy chains that pulled him forward. He stumbled around up the stairs to the gallow. You could see his eyes look up in fearful amazement at the construction of the gibbet. His Adam’s apple choked up and down, and then his eyes caught sight of you. 

Everything began to move at a slowed-down pace. 

He must not have expected you to come or hoped you wouldn’t because the brave and confident facade cracked for the tiniest moment. The sadness dominated his features for a glimpse of time, but it was all you could see. Too occupied by his view, he had missed his call to step up. The hangman shouted something from underneath his black hood, kicking Eddie forward. You flinched as Eddie kept his balance not to fall to the floor. You couldn’t do this. You could not watch this go down, but you did not want to leave him behind. Not ever. This could not be the end.

The court man stepped forward, unscrolling his parchment as he cleared his throat. It was enough for the people below, standing on the pavement, in the shadows of the buildings, on the balconies, to quiet down and listen as he read: 

‘On this day,’ his voice carried through the entire square, ‘we bear witness to the punishment of Edward Munson, pirate, for his admitted crimes of theft, perjury, extortion, abduction, desertion, high treason and murder, sentencing him to death as decided by the governing council. 

‘He shall hang here for God to give his final judgement and remain a reminder for any wrong-doers and sinners to come!’

You glanced at your father, who sat by untouched. Was Eddie’s body here to stay forever? You could not imagine having to walk around this town every day just to see his body be taken by the elements. 

The sun was nearly at the horizon, shining bright at all of you, its heat still heating your skin. 

The people cheered as the rope was put around Eddie’s neck, who waved to them as if they were not cheering on his demise. One hand pulling the other up, making the chain between them clink. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips, and it astonished you to see that he managed to stay his entertaining self even now. Always playing a role for the other man. Here to entertain. To provoke. To distract.

But the smile faded, body stiffened as the noose was pulled taut.

‘That’s a bit tight,’ Eddie commented, and in response to that, the hooded man pulled it even tighter. It dug into his skin. He looked down at where the floor would soon disappear from underneath him, then up at the sky and with a slight choke, he spoke out his final words, embellished by the last spark of his life: 

‘To reign is worth ambition though in hell: Better to reign in hell, then serve in heaven.’

People gasped, mumbling amongst each other once more until hushed to silence by the hangman walking up to the lever that would set everything into motion. As Eddie took his final breath, everyone held theirs in anticipation. Your hands were shaking; every breath you took felt like a betrayal to him and like a stab in your lungs. Your fan moved faster, the small gushes of wind barely doing anything to cool down your face. This could not be the end. Not this. Not now. It couldn’t be—

The arm was pulled, and it was as if it had removed the ground from underneath your feet; that’s how deep the drop in your stomach was as you saw Eddie fall. It was as much as you could bear seeing before you turned around, hiding your face in your hands, hiding your tears from everyone else. 

When hanging a person, two types of noose could be used. With the longer drop, the fall's impact would cause the neck to break and bring instant death. The shorter rope prolongs the act of dying as the rope digs into their throat, cutting off their air. During this, the square is filled with the sound of choked gasps, encouraged by the hundreds of onlookers. 

If you had been one of them, down there on the ground, with easy access to the podium, you would have stormed it. Cut the rope loose. But you sat on the balcony, surrounded by your father and the other gentlemen and guards, unable to move anywhere. So you could only hope that there would be someone to do what you wanted to do. That someone would show up and save him like you wish you could. But when no one came, and his strangled groans became more sporadic, you had had enough. You couldn’t do this. You could not sit by and watch or even listen to what was happening before you. 

Your father’s call of your name was muffled by the public, and your own internal screams as you ran out. Arms reached for you, but you pushed past them all. As soon as you were out of everyone’s sight, the tears started to flow, and they would not stop no matter how far you ran. And you wanted to run as far away as possible, as far away as your legs could take you. Off this island, away from these people. Yet, you eventually carried yourself back to the square. Each step made you dizzy through the corridors and down the stairs, but you could not stand still. 

You had thought you were faster, but as soon as you pushed the heavy doors open and saw the stream of people walking away, the truth sank into your bones. You pushed your way past the crowd back to the open marketplace. As soon as it was done, people lost interest and continued with their evenings as if nothing had happened, ready for whatever next was to come eventually. By the time you reached the foot of the gallow, there was practically no one else around you. 

The sun was saying its goodbyes, and his body was a dark shadow across the obscuring sky, hanging limp, still swinging from side to side but with every second coming closer to its final halt. Something about the movements looked so serene that you could not come to terms with that this was really it. Just like that… he was gone, but it happened so quickly, so easily. Too quickly. 

You stood in front of him as the last people left, and the sun disappeared at the end of the world until the real darkness fell upon you, and your tears finally dried out until your throat screamed for water and air, and you could barely stand up straight.

This could not be the end.

And you were one of the first people to hear of it. 

First, there was the prickling of the fire in the reading room, the flipping of the pages as you stared ahead at the words of the book, making yourself seem present in the room as your father sat by. Then there were the rushed footsteps in the hallway. The hushed whispers of hesitance behind the closed door as the men contemplated what to do. A creak of the door as they walked inside towards your father and leaned in to whisper so you would not hear what they had to say.

But the room was so quiet, you heard it quite clearly.

‘Sir, there is an…a problem.’

‘What is the matter?’ Your father, as always, did not find much need to express himself largely, but at the guard's response, his eyes grew wide, and for a moment, the glow of the fire seemed that much cooler.

‘The body…. It’s gone, sir.’

‘What do you mean,’ he composed himself quickly, ‘he is gone? How can that be?’ 

The guards never looked so small. ‘We do not know sir, but he is. It is like he has disappeared into thin air.’

‘Absurd,’ your father got up, and so did you. Before you got to say a word or take a step forward, he quickly stopped you. ‘You stay here.’

‘Absolutely not.’ Was all you replied as you rushed out of the room ahead of anyone else. 

You had already made your peace with never stepping a foot inside the town square ever again, not if you would have to be reminded of that afternoon, of everything that happened in the last months, but as you walked back up to it, you could not have been happier that you had returned. 

Only the rope left was where his body had hung and where it had meant to hang for days to come. Its perfectly knotted noose swayed like he had the last time you saw him. 

Everyone else was right behind you, but just before they reached the platform with you, you noticed something in the corner of your eye. A shine against the moonlight on the wooden beams. You could just barely reach it, but with a stretch of the arm, your fingertips just about managed to get a grip on it. Before you could look at it, you heard your father shout orders at the guards, making them search everywhere in the nearby surroundings. Maybe whoever had taken the body was still somewhere nearby. 

Whoever took it… was that what happened? Before you could look around for more signs that could clarify the situation, you were called to return back home. It would do little good to argue now, so you followed the guard tasked with escorting you to your room. Only when he closed your door and you sat down at your drawing desk that you opened your fist to reveal what it was you had found beneath the rope.

The pair of hollowed-out eyes of the skull ring stared back at you. There was no possible way for you to know what this meant if it even meant something, but you couldn’t help but smile. The ring was loose on your finger, but you kept it on. 

This could not be the end of Captain Eddie Munson. 

It wasn’t. 

For most people, he lived on as a ghost story, and as you had learned from a very young age, dead men tell no tales. The living pass their stories around, mouth to mouth, page to page. Blurring the truth with their urgency for clarity, they try to make sense of things they cannot understand. Secrets become myths and legends that barely resemble the truth. 

In most cases, it takes years, decades, if not centuries, but here, on this small island, the conversations on the street already trickled with gossip and rumours the following morning.

I did not want to believe it, but it must be true, what they say. He did sell his soul to the devil! And it came to retrieve his body. 

I told you! It is useless to try and kill the unkillable! No, did you not hear what he had said? “Better to reign in hell!” But he is the devil incarnate!

Well, I’m surprised they caught him in the first place! Why he must be a ghost. The lot of them on that wicked ship. All cursed, and now he will return to haunt us for the rest of our lives! 

Who was to say out of all of them what happened on that square once darkness fell? No one was there to see it or tell the truth, as all who could had long left the island. 

They left at night, days after everything went down after the search for Eddie’s missing body had been called off, “officially” said to have been stolen but never confirmed. Those who knew what happened to it stayed in hiding until it was safe to come out until all suspicions were blurred with the gossip and basically forgotten. Quietly, they ran to the harbour, unseen by anyone, swift as the wind. 

Unnoticed by anyone…but you.

Like most of the nights, unable to fall asleep, you had been looking out your window out at the harbour and the sea. The ships that calmly stood anchored there and the waves that pushed against them. Slowly, they put you to sleep, and so at first, you thought it was just a blur of your tired gaze, the dark spot in the far distance. It wasn’t a ship. And there, on the shore, there were no people preparing a boat. Not this late… 

You rubbed your eyes, trying to better understand what they were doing. Packing in a hurry, throwing things into the bottom of the rowboat. As you watched, you told yourself that it was just the exhaustion speaking, that you were fooling yourself with this hope, but you could not let the chance pass you by.

You left your room without bothering to put anything on over your nightgown. Quietly to not gain any attention, but still as quickly as you could manage. Who knew how much time you had left before they would leave? Then once out of the house, you ran as fast as you could. The past few days, it felt like it had been all you had been doing, running to and from things, running after something without even knowing what you were looking for, but now you knew. You ran until your lungs began to burn from the warm and dry air. Until your feet were ready to give in and until you reached the sandy beach. 

As much as you wanted to scream and shout, you kept quiet. You walked carefully up to the two figures at the shore until they noticed you next to them. It happened when you were only a few feet away; they heard the scuffle of your feet or your shaky breath and pulled their guns out. They were ready to shoot, but the second they needed to notice you in the dark saved your life. That is when you locked eyes with the man in front of you.

‘Eddie?’ you cried. Before he could say anything, you took the final few steps and closed the gap between you, pressing your lips against his. Just to know it was real. Just to make sure you had not gone completely mad. You pressed yourself against every inch of him that you could. 

With the need for air, you pulled back, and instinctually, your palm met the side of his face. ‘How? I saw you—’ You both breathed heavily, chests raising drastically as he turned back to face you with a smile and press his lips against yours again. Like the last pieces of the puzzle, his hands fit on your body perfectly. 

Then he pulled you apart, with his hands on your face, wiping away the tears that had formed along the way. ‘I know,’ he whispered, but the words were so close you could feel them. You could feel him. Just the feeling of his fingertips on your cheeks assured you that this was real and that it was really him. ‘And I’m so sorry.’

‘But why?’ You were trembling in his arms. 

‘I had realised very early on that the only way to truly escape this place was to die,’ he smiled the smile you thought you would never see again, ‘but, well, I was not ready for that just yet.’

‘But I saw you— I watched it all happen there—how did you—’ his being broke you. You could not stop staring at the man in front of you. At all the little knicks and cracks in his skin. The fading bruises, the scars, and the long red gash along his neck that proved everything that much more. 

‘I told you everything would be alright, didn’t I?’ And he never broke his promise. But still, as the truth settled in around you, it opened up a space for a new kind of hurt. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why let me believe that you were gone?’

‘It was the one thing that actually killed me, believe me,’ he pushed the loose hair out of your face, ‘but I needed you to believe it like anyone else. If you believed it—it would make everything so much easier.’

You wanted to ask him what on earth that was supposed to mean, but that is when you remembered the boat at his side. And when you noticed Steve waiting impatiently behind him, the oar already in his hand.

 ‘You’re leaving.’ It wasn’t a question. Of course, he was. He couldn’t hide here forever. Out there, in the waters, he would be genuinely free. 

‘It’s all for the best, and with me gone for good, you could live on; move on,’ he said somberly. 

‘Do you think I could forget about you that easily?’ Your fist had clamped onto the material of his shirt. ‘Do you really think I think so little of you? That I had not spend every minute of the past days mourning you? Missing you?’ and now you had him… just to lose him again.

‘But it would all pass. You can find someone else, someone better, and be happy.’ He looked down at your hand to see the ring you had kept on your finger for the past few days. He kissed his ring and then looked back up at you. ‘Let me go, darling.’

‘No,’ you shook your head, much like you had in the dungeon, but this time, you were more adamant this time than ever. ‘I won’t let you. Not this time.’ 

He mumbled your name, trying to argue, but you were ready with a rebuttal before he even said anything.

‘I do not want to spend another day without you. Not if I know you are somewhere out there—’ you had been looking at the ring too, but then looked at him again as an idea formed in your brain. ‘Take me with you.’

‘I can’t do that,’ his smile was airy and light but filled with regret. ‘You belong here.’

‘No, I don’t. Remember what I told you when I came to see you?’ You pleaded with him. ‘Do you remember?’ You pushed the words out when he didn’t say anything. 

‘Yes.’ 

‘So, please, don’t leave me. Not again.’ At this point, you punched every word into his chest weakly as you began to cry again, and he let you. Then, when you were finally done, he held you, telling Steve off when he tried to put this to an end, even though he was right. There wasn’t much time left. The sun would come up soon again, and people would awake and see you, and it would all have been for nothing.

‘I wish I could give you the world, darling,’ he said, ‘I call you a princess, but we both know you should be treated as a queen and get anything you ask for, but I can’t do that for you. I am not the man you should be with.’ He kissed the top of your head. ‘Please, forgive me.’ And with that, he let you go. 

You had let him do many things in the past, but not this time.

‘Well, I don’t forgive you.’ He had already turned around to get to the boat, but you just stepped past him, stunning him and poor Steve, as you got in. ‘If you wanted the easy way out, Munson, you should have thought twice about who to kidnap.’ 

The two men looked bewildered momentarily, too stunned to respond, but Steve was the first to respond. ‘She’s right,’ and he followed you in. The boat rocked from side to side. You sighed as you looked at Eddie as he stood in the sand. 

‘I’m not scared, Eddie.’ you reached out your hand to him. ‘I want this.’ You wanted him. You wanted this life with him. You wanted to travel the world and have a life of adventures. You wanted to be free.

Eddie looked at you, still in apparent shock at your sudden assertion. You might have thought you had changed so much, but he still saw the same stubborn woman as that cursed day when you were hauled aboard his ship. On the contrary, he had been the one that changed, and he realised that as he cursed himself there on that beach. He knew he might come to regret this, but he thought he had regretted most of his choices, most of what he had done in the past months, and yet, he could not have been happier with where his life had led him, as it all led him to you. So, he took your hand and pulled himself into the boat.

You dropped the weights that had kept you anchored and made your way out into the sea where the Hellfire lay by patiently, waiting for her Captain and his Princess—despite what their titles actually may be—to return home.

The End.

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[nekropsii]

Hiiiiiiii! Insane your iceberg post and was wondering if possibly i could have the sources for: the one about horrus being a system, the cronus abelism one as Well as the one about kurloz talks cronus out of being the hero if its not too much of a bother! Have a lovely day and Take care!

Oh, sure! I absolutely can do that! Easy-peasy!

------

On Horuss Being a System...

Horuss's Plurality is quite an easy one. He references it multiple times! It verges on interesting, but every time the bait is taken, we get hit with the switch of it being a really cruel punchline against an extremely vulnerable group of people.

Yikes!

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On Cronus's Disillusionment...

We mostly get this one from Aranea's infodump on Cronus. Here it is, verbatim, with the relevant portion in bold:

The 8ard of Hope may seem a little jaded these days, 8ut once he had a deeply abiding faith in magic, and dedicated himself to 8ecoming a great wizard. He 8ecame convinced he was hatched to defeat an extraordinarily evil magician, one he swore the angels foretold of. Though when pressed for the name of the man, he would not say it, claiming it was too dangerous to even enunciate. Part of his self-aggrandizing mythos was that this magician once somehow from afar tried to strike him down at a young age, so he would never have to face him. But the evil spell was deflected, sealing the magician's spirit away in a series of unassuming vessels until he could find some other cunning way to enter our universe. The attack supposedly left him with his distinctive scar. 8ut at some point he became disillusioned with magic. Any truth to his far fetched vision, the legacy of defeating the evil magician would have to 8e passed on to his descendant, or if his descendant proved to be as much of a failure as he did, then perhaps on some other Hero of Hope. I'm unsure why he suffered this crisis of faith, aside from the obvious reasons having to do with an overall lack of character, or any other redeeming qualities. Perhaps someone talked him out of his 8eliefs. Maybe a friend close to him. Or, if one is to 8elieve his fantasy held any water, perhaps someone who was in league with the evil magician.

Yep! It's just fucking Harry Potter, with a twist! But it's implied that Kurloz did that. He is pretty well known for colluding with the "Evil Wizard" in question, being Lord English, as well as mysteriously being there at every major event, ever... And Cronus is terrified of him, so. I think the only reasonable assumption is that Once Again, Kurloz Did It.

------

On Cronus's Ableism...

And finally... Wait. Wait, hold on a minute...

Did you just ask me for evidence that Cronus is Ableist?

The other two things are understandable, but... Really? You need a source on Cronus Ampora being Ableist? Are you... New here? Have you ever actually read anything Cronus has ever said? Brother, Cronus being Ableist is just about the most obvious trait he has. This is one of the key takeaways most people get from the Openbounds. His ableism is so fucking bad it's what made most people stop reading the Openbounds. His ableism is so bad it's genuinely triggered people before. It's so bad it's made people physically nauseous.

Well... You asked for it. I appreciate you seeking out knowledge, even if I'm a little confused by it. Here's a compilation of SOME - stressing, SOME, not ALL - of the vile things he's said to Mituna, who's mentally disabled due to a Traumatic Brain Injury.

Presented without further comment. Do I really need to make one?

------

You have a lovely day, too, Anon. Take care. May fortune find you, in mind and in wallet. Lol.

[cruyuu]

Oh my god thank you SO much for your last analysis in response to my ask jfkfbwksk

How do you ALWAYS deliver on the feels??

And I have to say, your analyses really shine a new light on Yuuji’s character (and the SukuIta dynamic) in a way that makes Yuuji even MORE tragic to me??

Because quite literally, Yuuji really has NO equal in the story when it comes to selflessness and mindset. In fact, considering just how overwhelmingly SELFISH the world of JJK is, I’d argue that it’s YUUJI who may be the loneliest in the entire series because it is HIS mindset/morality that would be the most alien to virtually everyone else in the series

In the JJK world, where everyone is apathetic to the common good and prioritizes themselves and the people they happen to care about over the rest of the world, and where doing so is legitimately seen as MORAL, Yuuji’s selflessness is the one who seems the most incomprehensible to everyone else. I think this is best seen in how everyone aside from Yuuji views civilian deaths

For instance, when Geto started murdering civilians en masse, characters like Gojo, Nanami, etc were like “ok, he has to be stopped because he’s a tad bit extreme, but he’s still bbg who did nothing wrong and who was very likely correct uwu and he’s actually maybe a tragic heroic figure??” and weren’t upset at him at all for planning to kill so many human beings. Heck, Yuta only got upset with Geto the moment he started threatening Maki, someone he happened to care about

Likewise, even with freak characters like Kenjaku, he’s still understood by people like Yuki and Geto, who share his morality/views/etc

Also, when it comes to Sukuna, even though he’s a literal sadistic cannibal who loves to torture, kill, and eat humans for fun, the cast doesn’t really seem to be all that upset over it and even admire him, feel sympathy/sorrow for him and solidarity with him, seek his approval, and want to reach him with love. The only reason why they even take a stand against him is not because of the threat he poses to humanity, but the threat he poses to jujutsu sorcerers. Yuuji is the ONLY one who is morally bothered by the fact that Sukuna is, you know, EVIL and seeks to subject humanity to his sadistic whims

And during the Shibuya Incident, everyone aside from Yuuji is very nonchalant about civilian death. Gojo, Mei Mei, etc are very blasé about seeing civilians getting brutally murdered or threatened right before their very eyes. Megumi canonically doesn’t care about the masses and only cares for a very select group of people. Heck, him summoning Mahoraga was basically him knowingly screwing over the entire civilian population of Shibuya. Yes, the other characters grieved, but they only grieved for the losses of the people they happened to care about. Yuuji was the ONLY ONE who was devastated over the losses of not only his friends, but over the deaths of the thousands of civilians as well. Heck, the idea that Yuuji could possibly be also upset over the loss of thousands of innocent civilians probably never even crossed their minds since the kind of morality needed to care about civilians is just THAT foreign to them. And ironically enough, the only person who seems to realize that Yuuji would be upset over civilian deaths is SUKUNA, who specifically switched with Yuuji at the last second to see the crater because he knew it would devastate Yuuji to witness the deaths of so many people. Yuuji’s closest companions in the series don’t understand him, but Sukuna does

I mean, in the same way that Gojo, Kashimo, etc tried and failed to reach Sukuna, Mahito (the only one who attempted to do so with Yuuji) tried and failed to reach Yuuji with all of his “we are the same” talk as well. Because although there may be very superficial similarities between them, in the same way that Gojo, Kashimo, etc share superficial similarities with Sukuna while still ultimately not being alike at all where it truly matters, Mahito and Yuuji are ultimately DIFFERENT in the sense that Mahito acts out of his own selfish desires while Yuuji is entirely driven by selflessness. They are not the same at all, and Yuuji is, once again, entirely alone

While Yuuji’s companions (Megumi, Gojo, Choso, etc) don’t understand him, Sukuna, the man who ruined his life, DOES, and that’s something that Yuuji quite possibly has to viciously deny to himself lest it tears him apart inside

Fjskjdks

Hello again anon!

I'm happy to hear that you like my analyses! I am always more than willing to provide for us Yuuji fans. My acc is heavily oriented towards sukuita and Yuuji and Sukuna individually even if I do like all characters.

Now, to properly answer your ask.

Yes, Yuuji is a very tragic character. In fact, the way he views the world is really too idealistic and the way he adapts to it is really fascinating to me because you would think that this guy would start becoming more selfish as time passes (after all, it is logical for him to do so) but instead he just continues fading away and accepts his role as a "side character", still blaming himself for everything. Yes, the fight against Mahito changes him, but not too abruptly. His naivety and cheerfulness are gone from his face, but they are still there from time to time.

For a story such as jjk, this is perfect, however. It suits him to be someone who is in the back lines. The truth is that Yuuji is considered "weak", someone who wasn't from the three great clans nor someone who could ever grasp cursed energy. Someone who wasn't born special. Someone who wasn't born a jujutsu sorcerer. It is logical for him to be treated by the story as such. Even when it's revealed that he's one of Kenjaku's creations, he's still dismissed by them and called "a thing". He's just a pawn for a greater scheme— for bringing back Sukuna. He remains an underdog even after a great ancestry reveal that usually brings main characters in shonen great importance and skyrockets them to the heights of the main villains. Makes them terribly powerful. And don't even get me started how the narrative casually brushes over this fact and how we were robbed of Kenjaku interacting with Yuuji (😭). It really is painful to be a Yuuji fan tbh

Yuuji still remains quietly ignored which I can't help but admire because if Gege did pull that move and made him so terribly important and capable of spamming Blood Manipulation out of nowhere and could easily knock down Sukuna, I would be very ready to leave jjk behind.

Still, even if I call Yuuji weak (kinda like the story itself does), I do not consider him weak at all. His physical prowess as well as speed makes him already leagues above your average human. People who really do consider Yuuji weak do so for very stupid reasons. Because Yuuji doesn't have a domain, nor a cool, science-defying, earth shattering lowkey OP signature CT. Instead, he gets Sukuna's copy which is ridiculed to hell and back by Sukuna (and some fans of jjk). He's not cool by shonen standards at all. This just makes me love him more because usually, in shonen, what would happen to the protagonists is that their power would begin to overshadow their progress as characters. It'll no longer matter if they stay boringly same with the same old "I'll beat you, kill you" whatever, because just look at how strong they are! I am deeply against basic and bland characterization because it's really so unsatisfying and doesn't make you dwell much nor remember the character. They become shallow and stale because power isn't everything, there has to be something else there as well. I could find it cool for a while before it'll start to get on my nerves because what is there to like outside these abilities? What else is there about the character?

Part of Yuuji's charm is how human he is. Amongst the big cool jujutsu sorcerers who all have these amazing, flashy cursed techniques and can tear down mountains, Yuuji fights with his fists and with the simplest technique there is which is just channeling cursed energy into his punches. Even if he gets Blood Manipulation, he's still slowly adapting to it and isn't an outright expert on it. I really adore how hard working he is, really. I love how hard work pays off for him because it is way more satisfying than seeing something unnatural– like Yuuji suddenly being capable of channeling cursed energy into a punch which tears apart enemies completely and crashes several buildings consequently OR he starts throwing meteorites or something lol. Even if jjk is highly unrealistic, I admire the realism of Yuuji.

Still, funnily enough, as much as he's dismissed and constantly suffers through the story, he still isn't completely out of the picture.

He's not really erased. He's just quietly there, going with the motions. And how strange it is— like, a boy wearing the same face as one of the main antagonists, born from the secondary antagonist, yet dragging himself behind all the side characters placing his trust into them because he views them as strong and more powerful. Isn't it contradictory? I lament the fact Yuuji isn't liked by the fandom and more noticed but instead it is the total opposite. Still, seeing how most butcher even the simplest character's characterization (for example Gojo), I am happy he isn't that popular. I lowkey really hope it stays that way tbh. I would hate to wake up to nonsensical power scaling arguments or awful theories that don't suit Yuuji's character.

Most do tend to say jjk is a story that spans over many character's lives but I disagree. In each and every work there is always a main character— the one who you're introduced to right at the start of the story. The one who sets off the events that will follow. That is Yuuji, not anyone else.

How do you ALWAYS deliver on the feels?? And I have to say, your analyses really shine a new light on Yuuji’s character (and the SukuIta dynamic) in a way that makes Yuuji even MORE tragic to me??

Thank you, anon! It pains me that the majority don't like the sukuita dynamic, how it's overlooked by everyone and dismissed as meaningless or less worthy in a way because these two really have it all. I am here to prove those haters wrong and prove that reducing these two to just "shipping incest/liking problematic content" is the most horrible take to ever come out of this fandom. I am here to offer a fresh perspective and say exactly why they're so well liked and shipped in the first place. Not because of the problematic age gap or the fact that they're kinda related (which they aren't really but I do accept that as real at times for jokes tbh), but because both of them have been given a lot of narrative importance and singled out as characters who do not have an equal yet funnily do have an equal in a form of each other.

This fifteen year old boy who can't do anything can do everything because of this old curse who's supposed to be the epitome of evil, meanwhile this epitome of evil gets to experience life all over again because of this weakling who's better off dead (who despite being weak and made for the purpose of being a vessel can still actively suppress him lmfao). It's so bizarre and funny yet so sad when you think about it because both are perfect punishment and wish fulfillment for each other.

They're downright perfectly made for each other, yet realistically won't ever, ever acknowledge each other. It's so, so tragic. Believe me these two never fail to bring me to tears considering that everything they've ever wanted lies in each other.

It's so painful that Yuuji could find more solace, common ground and understanding in the very same thing that hurt him over and over again, yet someone like Sukuna can only find an equal in someone he finds pathetic and irrelevant. They could never see eye to eye because even if they compliment each other, the very thing that makes them who they are as characters forbids them for acknowledging each other and that's something which is sad on a whole another level.

I feel like they're terrified of acknowledging it because that would really be the death of them— that someone who you hate from the bottom of your heart is the one who checks all boxes to what you're looking for.

Yuuji really has NO equal in the story when it comes to selflessness and mindset. In fact, considering just how overwhelmingly SELFISH the world of JJK is, I’d argue that it’s YUUJI who may be the loneliest in the entire series because it is HIS mindset/morality that would be the most alien to virtually everyone else in the series In the JJK world, where everyone is apathetic to the common good and prioritizes themselves and the people they happen to care about over the rest of the world, and where doing so is legitimately seen as MORAL, Yuuji’s selflessness is the one who seems the most incomprehensible to everyone else. I think this is best seen in how everyone aside from Yuuji views civilian deaths.

Yep! Yuuji is actually the loneliest in the entire series because every character in this manga is a total opposite to who he is. Even another kind character that seems to be a mirror to Yuuji still can't act as a mirror because he seems terribly selfish when compared to Yuuji.

Yuuji is really the one who pays attention to every living thing, not just the people he knows. He really is terribly, and some would say unrealistically, selfless. Hell, Yuuji had a mental breakdown after seeing the carnage he didn't cause and blamed himself (undeservingly) for something which Sukuna actually caused. He even admits this to Higuruma and it really stuns him because Yuuji's viewpoint is plainly absurd because everyone knows that death brought by other's hand isn't your own. Yuuji doesn't believe in that. He made Sukuna his responsibility, and hence whenever he gets out, Yuuji blames himself. For not being strong enough to suppress him, for being weak. He blames himself instead of blaming this evil curse that dwells in him.

Yuuji isn't faking his kindness, nor is he doing this to gain sympathy and be spared, he's just himself. This combined with the fact that yes, nearly all of the cast of jjk are actually selfish, already make him stand out. Already make him special. But Yuuji, again, isn't doing this for any ulterior motives, he just wishes to help.

For instance, when Geto started murdering civilians en masse, characters like Gojo, Nanami, etc were like “ok, he has to be stopped because he’s a tad bit extreme, but he’s still bbg who did nothing wrong and who was very likely correct uwu and he’s actually maybe a tragic heroic figure??” and weren’t upset at him at all for planning to kill so many human beings. Heck, Yuta only got upset with Geto the moment he started threatening Maki, someone he happened to care about Likewise, even with freak characters like Kenjaku, he’s still understood by people like Yuki and Geto, who share his morality/views/etc

Not only the narrative, anon, but do not forget that the fandom itself also behaves that way. They tend to forget that characters like Geto are not really good and actually pretty vile but— like most of Geto's ex-friends— shrug it off as not really that important. It actually gets on my nerves because the amount of times I've seen Geto being characterized, him being an extremist hell-bent on wiping out humans isn't acknowledged. I can understand liking a character but if you like them then you have to acknowledge their wrongdoings and who they really are. Like I love Sukuna but do I try to wipe his characterization and headcanon him into someone who's good? No. He's bad, he kills people and eats them as a hobby. He's a vile monster. It's not that hard to admit lol. Let villains be villains please!

Not only does Yuta get upset over Geto not because of him being a danger to society, but he goes against Kenjaku personally all because "Gojo shouldn't kill his best friend again :(". First off, that is Kenjaku who's in that body, not Gojo's best friend. Geto had been dead for a long, long while and yet Kenjaku- just because they're a brain who jumps into corpses- always gets dismissed by everyone (which really makes you think... about their coupling with Jin...).

Also, it's funny to me really how the kind Yuta doesn't acknowledge that the best friend in question killed and wanted to annihilate all normal humans. If he's kind wouldn't he dwell more deeply on it and consider it good that he's dead at the end of the day because his ideology means the death of humans? I mean Yuta used to be a regular human before he was shipped off to Jujutsu High so I find it funny how that's completely glossed over by him.

Also, when it comes to Sukuna, even though he’s a literal sadistic cannibal who loves to torture, kill, and eat humans for fun, the cast doesn’t really seem to be all that upset over it and even admire him, feel sympathy/sorrow for him and solidarity with him, seek his approval, and want to reach him with love. The only reason why they even take a stand against him is not because of the threat he poses to humanity, but the threat he poses to jujutsu sorcerers. Yuuji is the ONLY one who is morally bothered by the fact that Sukuna is, you know, EVIL and seeks to subject humanity to his sadistic whims

Yes, you're right! Even I, as a Sukuna fan myself, am kinda baffled how Sukuna being evil isn't an issue to most characters. To them, his strength is all that matters. He's considered as this "strongest jujutsu sorcerer" and not someone who poses an active threat not only to jujutsu sorcerers but humanity at large. Again, Yuuji is the only one who calls him evil, who asks him why he (and curses in general) cannot live without causing suffering. Not only to jujutsu sorcerers, but all people in general.

And during the Shibuya Incident, everyone aside from Yuuji is very nonchalant about civilian death. Gojo, Mei Mei, etc are very blasé about seeing civilians getting brutally murdered or threatened right before their very eyes. Megumi canonically doesn’t care about the masses and only cares for a very select group of people. Heck, him summoning Mahoraga was basically him knowingly screwing over the entire civilian population of Shibuya. Yes, the other characters grieved, but they only grieved for the losses of the people they happened to care about. Yuuji was the ONLY ONE who was devastated over the losses of not only his friends, but over the deaths of the thousands of civilians as well. Heck, the idea that Yuuji could possibly be also upset over the loss of thousands of innocent civilians probably never even crossed their minds since the kind of morality needed to care about civilians is just THAT foreign to them. And ironically enough, the only person who seems to realize that Yuuji would be upset over civilian deaths is SUKUNA, who specifically switched with Yuuji at the last second to see the crater because he knew it would devastate Yuuji to witness the deaths of so many people. Yuuji’s closest companions in the series don’t understand him, but Sukuna does

And again, I completely agree with you anon!

The only one who strangely acknowledges the devastation he caused is Sukuna and he switches with Yuuji so he could "enjoy the view" all so he could chuckle over Yuuji as he collapses to his knees and has a mental breakdown. It's funny how someone like Sukuna, who enjoys carnage and revels in battles, is satisfied enough to stop right there in front of the view of a decimated Shibuya when he is supposed to be this evil bastard that usually won't notice nor would care do that. Oh but Yuuji is special. He knows that it'll hurt him, that it'll devastate him because he's a kind soul who cares for everyone, not just jujutsu sorcerers.

I mean, in the same way that Gojo, Kashimo, etc tried and failed to reach Sukuna, Mahito (the only one who attempted to do so with Yuuji) tried and failed to reach Yuuji with all of his “we are the same” talk as well. Because although there may be very superficial similarities between them, in the same way that Gojo, Kashimo, etc share superficial similarities with Sukuna while still ultimately not being alike at all where it truly matters, Mahito and Yuuji are ultimately DIFFERENT in the sense that Mahito acts out of his own selfish desires while Yuuji is entirely driven by selflessness. They are not the same at all, and Yuuji is, once again, entirely alone

In the fight against Mahito, Yuuji already stated why they aren't the same even if stating they are. It's all right there in the panels— the glaring difference is all up in your nose if you know how to look:

The reason Mahito gets downright terrified of Yuuji here is because he senses pure killing intent. As if Yuuji really isn't human but a true curse. It's funny that a cursed spirit could fear a human, because curses are supposed to be guided by everything bad and therefore you would think that Mahito would match Yuuji's energy, think that this is exciting. But nope.

For someone who is as kind as Yuuji, seeing him embracing the anger and all negative emotions, is actually terrifying to Mahito for simple reasons. First, Yuuji is completely selfless and often looks to save people (even curses), but for the first time, he wishes to kill for no reason at all which is exactly like how a curse would think. Second, most curses (unlike Sukuna), are guided by human reasons (see Jogo) and are therefore leagues below Sukuna who takes pleasure in everything not because of other people, but because of himself.

The Yuuji vs. Mahito fight is directly tied to Sukuna vs. Jogo fight. Let me explain:

Humans fear death. Yet Yuuji is someone who doesn't fear death. He could easily embrace it if it means it is for a good cause. You could argue that Yuuji is selfish purely for that fact alone— that he's dead set on dying because of his selflessness. It sounds so contradictory but it makes sense lol. It separates him from other humans, as well as other curses, and puts him somewhere between a curse and a human.

Sukuna also spells out something interesting which directly ties into the reason why Yuuji wins in the Mahito fight:

What Yuuji did in the fight against Mahito is exactly what Sukuna was telling Jogo he lacked. Yuuji's wish is to kill curses only so he could end all misery they leave behind (which is like curses in a way– he has to kill to get the result and not really save or talk them down). Still, the one who softly nudges him into that realization is Sukuna himself, who is far worse than all curses combined. This is hinted at and not outright acknowledged because these two would never actively acknowledge each other, even if the narrative brings them together.

The misery that Yuuji feels after that sight pushes him to a breaking point, makes him detest himself but also makes him angry. Angry that he couldn't stop unnecessary death. All of that anger comes out against the fight with Mahito, because he considers him a curse, and he wishes to see them exterminated and wishes to see them dead. He grabs a hold of that desire and decimates Mahito's newly transfigured form, proving himself as someone even worse than Mahito because he has that selfish wish which is guided by his selflessness. He embraces evil for the sake of good, not for the sake of evil. Crying and blaming himself will not end curses, after all, and that's what he realized.

That's why Yuuji says they are the same, but they're still different. When Yuuji kills, he kills out of his inability to do anything else. Killing isn't the first thing on his mind. See how he usually talks down his opponents (hell, even Sukuna when he's in Megumi) and then settles on fighting? Only when he realizes there is no way, that is when he pushes himself to go all out.

Mahito cannot be the same as Yuuji, just as Sukuna cannot be the same as Jogo. Again, both Yuuji and Sukuna are singled out and funnily their fights end the complete opposite way to who they are. A human against a cursed spirit proves to be worse than a curse who doesn't care nor want to see his viewpoint but instead just wants him dead. Yuuji comes out as selfish. A curse against the cursed spirit proves to be really human by thinking of someone else and not himself and tries to see his viewpoint. Sukuna comes out as selfless.

It's fascinating, really.

You could argue that the real reason Sukuna actually showed him the sight of decimated Shibuya wasn't only to torture him, but to actively push him to a breaking point– strike him where it hurts the most– and cause unintended (to him) character development. After all, who else cares about other normal people unlike him? Who else sees Sukuna as evil and only evil? Who else is selfless? He proves that he knows who Yuuji is here and what would give him the motivation to fight. Not only his friends dying, the people he cares about, but regular people. He shows him what curses are all about, really, which is what opens his eyes and the hatred to see them gone (because of the damage they do) is enough to send a mirror of death to humans running away like a coward lmfao.

So yes, Yuuji is alone because, again, nobody in this story does stuff like he does it. Even if Mahito barks how same they are, Yuuji sends him running in fear, effectively proving him wrong even if he does say they are the same. It's the actions, not the words. Yuuji's soul remains unknown and not acknowledged. Again, just like someone else's 🤭

While Yuuji’s companions (Megumi, Gojo, Choso, etc) don’t understand him, Sukuna, the man who ruined his life, DOES, and that’s something that Yuuji quite possibly has to viciously deny to himself lest it tears him apart inside

Yep. People who care for Yuuji can't even make sense of him yet the selfish, vile, cannibal and murderer curse can. How illogical, huh. How sad and horrible.

The only way these two can acknowledge each other is if they actively learned about each other, which they kind of are. Sukuna's becoming way more selfless and Yuuji is growing more selfish. After all, they are learning through each other of something they think is impossible and they have to embrace that otherwise, like Kenjaku said, nothing will be solved and history will repeat. The conflict between them is proved to be quite, quite important to the entire story.

On that note tho, Kenjaku really is a perfect villain because they understood the assignment and that's why they created Yuuji lmfao. Even if people love to say they didn't care for their creation, and even if Kenjaku calls Yuuji a thing, they still go to Sasaki (one of Yuuji's high school friend) and thank her for being there for their son (yep! son!) while actively ignoring all other creations of theirs (Choso did say that Kenjaku ignored them for 150 years which... ouch). So, does Kenjaku really not care? I don't think so!

I'm afraid Yuuji's power is unrivaled. No matter how much people fight against him and reject him, they end up falling in love with him. No matter how much the story itself is against him, he's the only one who can bring an ending to it <3

[yellowbluemoonshine]

Hi,

I see you finished Monster and are quite versed in Johan. Can you help me understand the depth of his character better? I feel like many people miss the point of it. Also I'd like to know why you like him so much.

Oh, there is so much to say about him but i will try to make it short as possible.

Lets Talk About Johan;

First of all, i heard his character as some 'evil' mastermind so i wasnt really interested in his character until i experience the story by myself. I wondered why this series is popular so i decided to give a chance. I tought Johan was like Afo (from Bnha) but he turn out to be a lot like Shigaraki lol.

What makes a character depth is if they are not one-dimensional, that there is a more than how they seem from surface. And Johan fits well since he is mysterious character who is seen as angel, monster, devil, basically anything but human but they end up failing to understand him because if he was so simple, police would've catch him a long time ago.

At the start of series, he seems like your usual dangerous serial killer which fits the psychological thriller theme of story. And one of the best thing in series is his connection with Tenma. A doctor saves his life and this dangerous killer starts to view him as parent figure. A killer who see no worth in life and the doctor who thinks every life is equal, especially saving Johan is the reason he starts to to be able to live his life as a real doctor. Only to learn the child whom he saved turn out to be serial killer.

Tenma feels responsible for this and goes to journey to kill Johan. During this journey, we aldo discover some hints of what made Johan the way he is. The irony is we get the hints and a lot of characters perspective of him, everyone except Johan.

Is his messages about 'the monster inside of him' serious or not? Tenma assumes Johan is enjoying this at first, then he assumes Johan has multiple personality disorder. And later when he talked with other doctor, he assumes Johan is just playing with him because thats what most serial killers do with police. This is interesting because all of those end up being wrong. Johan doesnt enjoy from killing people. Johan doesnt have DID. Johan didnt write those messages to play with them. We know this because we later learn that he is unconciously imitate the fairytale stories he read as child.

Meanwhile, he has fanclub. A lot of murderers admire Johan because they view him as destruction Buddha. Just like others, he is seen as monster but why though? Its not like he is the only killer in the world. And personally, a lot of characters are more 'evil' than him so the thing about Johan is; he treats human life as nothing. Not just other people but also himself. Thats what makes him so scary to everyone. He doesnt even do it out of joy, money, statue. He looks like the devil in human form. He spreads misery to world. (Thats why he burns library when they said "its humanity's treasure" LoL.)

To people, that is scary. When they look at Johan, his eyes, the see someone who has no identity (nameless world). They see someone who treats life like as a game. Which explains why many people are afraid of him.

Some also want to use him, such as they want him to make second Hitler and he is like 'Nope'.

I think the main reason i love Johan is that he is like a magician. He can create a beautifull illusion. He is someone who can touch people's hearths because how well he understands them. Which is why he is seen as angel when people dont know he kills people.

This is also why he can use other killers for himself. He can see their vulnerabilities. Because even a killer is still human and they might need acceptance, to be understood by someone. Johan can give it to them. And they wish they were like Johan because they think everything would be a lot easier for them to kill others, like some kind of edgy teens. They fail to understand the person they want to be is extremely miserable.

On other hand, Johan can use his skills with curing people. Such as him waking Suk's mother, he made her remember her son again. Though he does things with ulterior motives, same skills can be used for good things. He can make people happy or miserable by little things. With a little magic or just skill.

And even though he is villain, he has very relaxing voice. He is very elegant. He listens other people. This fits perfectly well with his manipulative character.

We also never know when he is sincere or not because when you think he doesnt he actually seem to care, such as when he cried for Karl. Apperantly, tears were real. He is always in his world, its so funny when you think about he is some kind of mastermind.

Also his interaction with kids is so interesting. I think he geniuely enjoys being around them. Otherwise, why would he bother to spend time with them, why would he know so much about child's rights, why would he look for picture book for a friend? This is the same guy who encourage kids to rooftop game (and the scene where he was projecting on Milos) which is messed up. It gives me chills. His nihisilism, him viewing life as game end up resulting him expressing love as twisted.

----

Later, everything changes when Johan finds certain book in library. Basically, Johan's character doesnt necessarely stay same during the series. He changes his motives from unconciously imitating nameless monster stories to find actual monster who ruined his life. Even though he does messed up things, everything about his character makes sense with that scene. Johan geniuely believed that he is nameless monster. Johan geniuely believed that he doesnt exist.

Everything about him makes sense because it explains why he doesnt think death as much of it. Because if someone doesnt exist, they cant be killed. If someone doesnt exist, they cant be responsible for killings. He is detached from reality. Its not that he didnt feel. Its that he doesnt view it as real the way other people does. Because Johan isnt there. This is the tragedy of Johan's story. He doesnt have name. He doesnt have identity. He feels as he doesnt exist.

The famous 'monster' tape everyone after is about a child unable to see the difference between fairytale story and reality. 'My name is Johan. My name is Thomas. My name is Hans. My name is Otto.' He is them but he is neither of them. Johan views Anna as his half, as Anna is the real one and he is fake copy. He killed people as child, not because he is evil but because he geniuely thought that monster is coming after them. He cant even separate his own memories from Anna's. He takes all bad memories both to protect Anna and other reason is to become someone. He wanted to have identity, he wanted to live so bad but he didnt have on his own so he took it from others, just like the nameless monster.

This is also why Johan is also affected by Tenma's saving him. He probably wondered Tenma wouldnt save him, if he knew he was monster. He was kinda right because Tenma regretted his decision but he was wrong because Tenma couldnt shoot him and he saved him the second time. He showed him that he has right to live, he has right to exist, and that he has a name so he is not monster. This is why Johan can open up his worst insecurities. And they really give father-son energy and i think thats cute. I am glad that even after years Tenma visists him at hospital.

And we can guess what happened at the end thanks to Grimmer (one of the characters who deserves better), 'The monster become human at the end'. and Lunge said that if he were not a human being, he would not leave a trace, only humans leave a trace. For the first time we see Johan leave his mark. So Johan is no longer a monster, just a human. Also, his real name doesnt matter, he is Johan to us/all.

I love the messages of story. There is a monster inside all of us, but we can contain/heal it and after all, we are all human, our lives are equally valuable and stealing a person's name is the biggest crime, so having a name is very important. Story still has certain writing issues but generally, it is good story. Johan is well written character because his story is such a journey. We cant even really appreaciate the story without fully understand Johan. Every scene he is in meaningfull. And personally, i think his story is very empathic because of how tragic he is. Also sometimes he looks so funny and weird which makes him entertaining. He is such a good character.

Though you are right, anon. Many people still misinterpret the story, especially his character but anyway, there are still people who makes great analysis about him. Such as this analysis made by @cyanogoth.

Its ironic that most/some main villains have the most interesting and sempathic backstories, even though they are supposed to be 'big evil' or something but in reality, they are not really.

Anyway, he is fun to think about, i love him, lol.

[izunias-meme-hole]

Okay, I keep hearing about the stuff about “TOTK is Pro-Imperialism” and I want to share my thougths.

TOTK isn’t Pro-Imperialism, but it isn’t Anti-Imperialism either

This debate has been surrounding The Legend of Zelda: Tears of The Kingdom for quite a bit, so I’m just here to state my thoughts on it based off of stuff from previous games, and stuff from in-game to try my best to form the clearest possible explanation to all of this. I apologize if this sounds like ramblings, I’m just trying my damnedest to condesce my thoughts on this matter into one post.

Point 1: Rauru is flawed, but not a monster

A fair amount of people think Rauru was the real evil, primarily due to the imperialism, but the reality is not exactly that. Rauru genuinely is a good man, and doesn’t exactly match the image of a conqueror or malevolent being in the end, but he does fall into an archetype the series likes presenting; The Questionable Hylian King. King Rhoam and Daphnes both fall into this category by both being men who would do whatever they can to preserve the Kingdom of Hyrule, but they aren’t exactly great people. Rauru however is a unique case, because despite having a good heart, he is still questionable because of how he was planning to build his kingdom, the stash of Zonai Secret Stones that were just kept in the castle at the time, and based off of how he planned to handle Ganondorf before the bastard became the Demon King, he didn’t consider the potential problems. 

As for the Imperialism, based off the scraps of info we have on the Zonai, and the fact that Rauru even considered on having that be the base for the system that Ancient Hyrule would function on once, it leads me to believe that the Zonai Civilization was most likely an empire that lived in the skies that mostly kept to itself and was around since Skyward Sword. Still, empires are destined to fall, and as a result, only 2 young Zonai were left, Rauru and Mineru. I think that when Rauru was founding Hyrule with Sonia, he was most likely thinking about the Zonai Civilization, and what aspects of that he could carry over into this new kingdom. Still, it’s clear that when building Hyrule, the one thing he DID consider was that he wanted a kingdom and land that would bring peaceful and orderly, and he might’ve flirted with the idea of a United Hyrule after finding out about the other races and civilizations.

Rauru if anything, wanted order. He wanted Hyrule to be a land that wasn’t sullied by evil, and he had good intentions and a good heart, but his methods were flawed at best and just garbage at worst. If anything, Zelda and Link are meant to basically are meant to look at him and learn what NOT to do when rebuilding Hyrule. Order may be something that’s usually associated as something good, but it just depends on who’s trying to establish it.

Point 2: Ganondorf has a motive and it’s one that brings only chaos

I hear talks about how Ganondorf has no motive in this game, but that isn’t the case here. This is mostly denied with some lines of his english dub and his motive is explained clearly in the Japanese dub. He, much like his other incarnations, is one of those antagonists who follow “The Mandate To Heaven,” which is basically a “the strong thrive while the weak perish” mentality that was used by a lot of real life emperors and conquerors, however there’s also another element to his character that seperates him from other incarnations of the character. He’s an embodiment of chaos and is aware of it.

Look at Ganondorf’s Demon King design, and his personality in this game and tell me that he isn’t chaos incarnate. Ganon has ranged from being a classic villian, a tragic villain, and magnificent bastard as a human, to a generic doomsday villain in his beastial forms. But here? He’s aware of his capacity for causing chaos and uses it to his advantage to ruin Rauru’s attempt at establishing order. Not only that, but he believes that hard times make people strong, and that anyone who desires peace is a coward. He and the Gerudo have thrived in a chaotic environment, The Desert, however while the rest of the Gerudo wish to just be left the hell alone, Ganondorf wished to extend his reach across the land, and after becoming the Demon King, his first act was to revive dead monsters, reintroducing chaos into the world as a result. He abandoned the Gerudo for the sake of his goal to dismantle the young Kingdom of Hyrule and turn the land into a hellscape where only the strong can thrive, a hellscape ruled by him, a king who MUST crush any opposition and rule.

This is a similar, yet different take on Ganondorf that not only remains true to his kingly mentality, but carries a chaotic and destructive energy that helps cement him as a true enemy to order as a concept, and not a king who’s selfish heart caused him to go power mad (OOT, TP & WW) or a genuinely good leader who still carries a monstrous and power hungry side to him (HW). This Ganondorf is not just evil, nor is he just a conqueror. He’s the enemy to peace and order, no matter who’s trying to establish it, all because peace and order doesn’t align with his worldview.

Point 3: Zelda is not a monster, but she does carry an impact

This one should be obvious, especially since Hyrule was still realing from The Calamity, but apparently it isn’t. Zelda is the last Hylian Royal in the present, but not just that. She’s been helping people recover, alongside the Shiekah too. She’s probably kept in touch with the Gorons, Rito, Zora, and Gerudo during that time and helped them too, and considering that she was friends with their champions, it gives her even more reasons to help, despite the fact that she would’ve tried to help anyway. Zelda in all of her appearances, especially in BOTW and TOTK is a genuinely good person, but unlike Rauru, she’s only concerned with peace and is careful with her steps. Remember, she DID question Rauru’s plan to keep an eye on Ganondorf. Sure it’s her duty to ensure order, as The Princess, but she genuinely believes that peace should be the objective of any royal. Zelda is willing to do whatever she can for peace, but she knows that there are certain paths that she cannot tread, unless she desires to abuse her power, and this is why she values wisdom, and this is why people trust her as much as they do.

Ganondorf’s puppet copy of Zelda did some heinous shit with her face, but even then, it still managed to fool some people. The puppet was designed to take advantage of that trust, and put people in distraught. In other words, when the REAL Zelda came back, you bet your ass that shit was set stright.

Point 4: The imperialism is just… existing in ancient hyrule, and is never glorified or demonized

Yeah, imperialism is implied, but it’s not glorified or demonized. It was just there for Ancient Hyrule before Ganondorf threw the land into chaos. Aside from that, based off of everything we know about BOTW and TOTK, whatever imperialism was in going to be in Ancient Hyrule, it didn’t see the light of day BECAUSE of the chaos created by Demon King Ganondorf. If anything it was just known as a thing exclusive to that era, and I explained Rauru’s deal. It’s almost like the imperialism was just a thing of the past and nothing more, a failed byproduct of a founder who was flawed as a King.

Before anyone brings it up, yes, the Gerudo of the past (TOTK Memories and OOT) are different from the ones in the present, and they even fought Rauru, but juding by how their leader revived a bunch of long dead monsters and tried to turn the world into his “only the strong survive” dreamland, it makes sense why they ditched him, it’s the same reason why the Gerudo centuries after OOT are allies of Hyrule in the BOTW timeline. They may have their problems with the hylians and men, but they’d rather work with them than pave the way for Ganondorf to bring them to ruin.

Conclusion: ToTK is not propaganda, it’s just a simple game with a piece of lore that has imperialism

As I said in point 4, the game isn’t pro imperialism, but it isn’t anti imperialism either, it just brings it up for the flashbacks as the implied system of government Rauru probably wanted to set up (Which I theorize was due to the Zonai Civilization being something akin to an empire that kept to itself before inevitably falling) for the purpose of genuinely wanting peace and order, and when the war against Ganondorf begins, that idea falls apart because chaos is sweeping the land and Rauru basically sacrifices himself to stop it, and Zelda at the end of her journey learns from the founders mistakes.

Hope this helps, but it probably won’t ☠️☠️☠️☠️

[cyn-if]

I've been re-reading the WIP a few days ago, and a weird series of questions came to mind... Warning, this will be all about a character you probably don't get a lot of asks about!

So, for some reason, the specific kind of "bully character" that Thomas is fascinates me in works such as this one. Not that I'd like him to be a RO or anything, I just think it's interesting to see how such characters are written or the different paths their story can take.

With Thomas, I know MC can humiliate him by showing how stronger they are, scare him by letting him stab them and witness how non effective that is, hurt him or kill him... That is a lot of variety!

Now I have a variety of questions if you don't mind!

How impactful on the overall story will be what we decided to do in regards to him?

If left alive, will Thomas continue to appear in the story on a semi-regular basis, or is he way too much of a secondary character for that? I don't know just how much he's a "proper character" and how much he's a "plot device" at this point.

Assuming he's alive and will be reappearing, are you planning on having him stay the same, or do you have some character evolution planned for him, good or bad (no need to tell which way it will go if that's spoilery! - just asking if anything will change or not).

And now a self-indulgent character ask that I hope won't be too annoying to answer: on a playthrough with a MC that is fully on board with their task of fighting against all things demonic and who basically resists their "evil nature" as much as possible, what would happen if Thomas was in mortal danger for whatever reason and MC saved him, possibly even taking risks or getting actually hurt for it - because at the end of the day, "he's still a human I have to protect"? How would Thomas react to that? And the ROs too, considering they all witnessed at least some of the stuff that happened between Thomas and the MC?

I hope this isn't too many question about that one character who isn't even a RO and that I shouldn't be overfixating on so much!

It's not a lot at all. Thomas does indeed sort of fall into the 'plot device' sphere then fully fledged out character. However, I do indeed have scenes in mind for a Thomas that was spared and depending on what the MC did.

Regarding impact, Thomas is the son of one of the more influential nobles in the Kingdom. While I'm undecided if Lord Ducant sits on the council, he for sure has quite a bit of influence in it. Thus killing, maiming or even scarring his son will impact his mind when it comes to the council informing the King what to do with the MC. Furthermore, slaughtering or maiming him outright will only alienate the MC from the rest of the Blackguard even more. Sparing Thomas, will indeed be seen as the MC doing something good (unless they maim him) and will carry positive benefits.

If spared, yes the MC will have opportunities to run into Thomas again. And when he shows up, depending on what the MC did to him, his character will indeed be slightly different. With certain paths being a little more antagonistic then others. (Maimed Thomas will hold a grudge.)

As for your what if scenario, Thomas would be surprised. That level of surprise will vary depending on what the MC did to him, but even an MC that avoids the fight entirely saving him would come as a surprise. That action more then anything would inspire a lot of growth in Thomas, and assuming he doesn't fully hate the MC, might even earn the MC a loyal helper (friend would be a bit of a stretch)

The ROs reactions would depend on what the MC did to Thomas first, and if they've shown themselves to be heroic in other encounters.

Everix is most likely proud and vindicated by the act. Knowing (hoping) deep down that the MC would be able to overcome their nature and be a hero.

Hayes wouldn't really understand risking one's life for someone like Thomas, but they would look at the character with a bit of awe at their heroics.

Sam wouldn't really make much of a big deal about it, unlike Everix or Hayes. But they would be happy to see that the MC is being heroic, and would probably try to mimic that level of heroism.

Quinn would be surprised, much like Thomas, at the MC saving him. But if the MC had been preforming heroic actions before, she would get over her surprise quick, and would congratulate the MC on sticking to their principles.

Maverick would trust the MC made the right decision, and would sort of be at awe and proud of them. He would also try to emulate that heroism, just in a less direct way then Sam would. More words and assisting, less physical acts of saving someone.

[picturejasper20]

I want to talk about Vlad Masters characterization in the game "Nickelodeon All Star Brawl 2" story mode.

So, Vlad is the main antagonist of this game, or at least that's what the game makes you want to think at the start until the weird time loops start happening and Plasmius keeps repeating things like "Mind controlling everyone is the way to save everyone" and "Don't you understand?!", which comes off as weird to the hero character.

The last time you beat him, Clockwork transports him into the same void "safe space" other characters are in. You can go and ask Vlad what he was talking about and he will answer how there is a bigger enemy at moment: Clockwork.

It is later revealed that Clockwork got infected by Vlad's mind control device, which in reality doesn't work as it should and makes people acts volatile and agressive instead. The "evil" Clockwork has been sending the hero protagonist to stop Plasmius from fixing his mind control machine and make the universe destroy on purpose again and again. Vlas has been trapped in these time loops like that player has been and he remembers what happened each time, forced to see the same event repeat all over again

Meaning that all this time the hero protagonist has been the "bad guy" while Vlad was trying to fix the mind control machine to prevent the universe from getting destroyed. Vlad even mentions this near the end of the game, calling himself "the hero of the story"

Of course, that's incorrect because Vlad was trying to freaking brainwash everyone. But it is interesting is how he is potrayed as sympathetic to some extent as he was trying to do the "right thing". He talks to the hero protagonist about how Clockwork isn't himself and he shouldn't be trusted.

This characterization reminds quite a lot from the one that he has in "A Glitch in Time" graphic novel. In the novel he helps Danny with searching for the source of ghost power and defeating Dan. He realizes the wrong of his selfish past actions and starts a path to redemption near the end of the story.

Considering that Nickelodeon All-Star Brawl 2 involves time travel and time loops like A Glitch in Time, it wouldn't be out of place to say that Vlad's characterization in the game is intentional, probably being written with the goal to be close to his character version in A Glitch In Time.

While Vlad doesn't exactly regret his actions at the end of the game, the idea of him not being as evil as he looks/ having standars is still there. There has been certain change of how his character gets potrayed lately. To someone more sympathetic, less emphasis on "evil" and more "he doesn't understand what he is himself getting into" vibes.

It also suprised me how he was chosen to be one of the main antagonists for this game and one of the characters that has the most lines in the story mode. It makes you wonder why they didn't make a Danny Phantom game instead since all the plot revolves around Danny Phantom characters.

On smaller observation, despite Vlad's motivations being "taking control over the universe" there are some lines of dialogue that hint as his own loneliness such as saying the game player that "they would make a good sidekick" and regreting "not having an audience" to see how he activates the mind control machine. In part it is understandable this doesn't get expanded upon since there are likely people who play the game that don't know about Danny Phantom.

I don't know who was behind writing the dialogue from this game but one thing i can say is that they seem to get Vlad's character in a good part, specially how he doesn't seem himself as a villain in certain moments.

All this emphasis in Vlad from AGIT graphic novel and the Nick fighting game makes wonder if he is going to have some important role in possible future stories from the series. It seems to me that it is trying to build up to something to be more than just pure coincidence. If he does gain more protagonism on long run, i hope they continue with this potrayal of his character because i find it pretty interesting.

[ominous-feychild]

You know, I wasn't expecting my first (and hopefully last lmao) most-stereotypically-gay character ever to be a nonbinary (any/all pronoun-ed), morally dark-grey faerie chaos god.

But you know what?

I fucking love them for it.

(The Existence of Magic is an absolute sassy QUEEN and omfg, I wouldn't trade them for the world. They're pretty evil at times, but like,,, omfg. Their charisma. They're like an old-fashioned disney villain. Guys. I want to turn this SUPER SPOILERY late-series outline into a fully-fleshed out scene and share it with everyone. Please help stop me--)

Also @the-letterbox-archives has decided Magic's pronoun is "babygirl" so uh,,, have fun with that knowledge.

Taglist and Existence of Magic snippet beyond!

Biornys: "I'm sure you know of my relationship with Zenebe--" Magic: slowly furrowing one eyebrow and raising the other as high as possible-- Biornys: voice growing uneven: "--and that I--" Magic: drops their eyes to their hand, checking out their long, sharp fingernails Magic: dismissively: "I cannot buy your boyfriend, no matter how--" (gets interrupted; skipping) Magic: gives another combo laugh-scoff-eyeroll as they throw a hand out, beginning to meander back and forth lazily "--as I was saying, I cannot buy your boyfriend from Mulul no matter how many favors you request from me. I cannot take him without either his or Mulul's consent--" Magic: flicking their hand out, turns to face Biornys again "--and he's rejected, as you know, while Mulul is quite attached to that one. He is their trainer. I've asked." Biornys: surprised, eyebrows furrowing as he looks up to meet their eyes Magic: flashes a sharp-toothed, roguish grin

Everything taglist: @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@48lexr @aalinaaaaaa @thecomfywriter @paeliae-occasionally

[majortomyourcurcuitsdead]

Some S2 E2 thoughts

Just rewatched a second episode of a second season; what a good one it is.

I wanted to write out some thoughts I had about Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s dynamic while watching it; this may have been discussed already in one way or another, but I think this aspect is so omnipresent within the series that it can sort of be taken of granted, and possibly overlooked. I also like analysing out loud, or, like here, by writing it out (it's good for my as I like to call it my acting brain).

So, my main point being is (and it can divulge into a different one in a bit cause I am sleepy yet passionate about this)- Both of them see through each other, like no one else they know does.

Crowley’s “I want to destroy children of Job” ? (Naah, Aziraphale doesn’t buy it)

Aziraphale’s responses to Crowley ~ - Whose side are you on? - God’s of course. - Oh, really? The same God that wants me to whack the kids? - Yes… (Crowley’s like lmao angel welcome to the club I guess)

And please, this is so important to support this whole point - can we talk about Crowley’s

“What do you know about what I want” bit

The facial expression, tone of voice and the eyes which we luckily have a quick glimpse of in this scene (and I have a suspicion that it was done on purpose so they are visible here), they scream “I see and understand that you know me, but it’s too dangerous for me to just be who I am. So let’s continue, at least for now, to play this game and let me create the illusion that I am a demon that I am, they need to see it. Not because I sincerely want to actually be one, fuck that to be honest; I just don’t want to die. Am I angry at this? Do I even feel a certain contempt, actually directed at myself for where I am at? Yes. Can it be better? No”.

But I also think that this is buried quite deep in the case of Crowley; you could say it’s subconscious (but most likely with time and at some point comes more to the light). I also realised with rewatching and reading other’s thoughts about this, this I-want-to-destroy-children-of-job-and-stuff “shield” for his own survival has actually grown thicker with time. (And what I want to add, not deep enough to actually sincerely want to be evil, that wouldn’t be the character we have; at least in a canon way we have now).

It’s interesting because Aziraphale is not quite the same [yet], in regards to a stance with his respective “offices”; so they are not fully mirroring each other in this aspect [again, and hopefully yet]. (As an additional note, the most similar Aziraphale was to Crowley in this regard was right after the failed Armageddon, but as we know at the end of Season 2 he returned to Heaven with a newfound hope to make it better).

Yes, Aziraphale sees through Crowley and Crowley sees through Aziraphale. But it’s only Aziraphale who actually wants to be a part of Heaven. And more precisely, he stands for what Heaven is on paper (love light peace etc), which is in fact very obviously very questionable in practice. And excuse me, Crowley? The Shuhite Crowley who in the end saves children (and also later down the line is concerned about feeding ducks with bread? Pure evil incarnate yes). Definitely a very loyal servant of Hell.

Crowley is obviously way ahead in his journey of being the odd one out, and this episode beautifully shows a muuuchh slower downhill route of a similar nature for Aziraphale (“You’re going to fast for me Crowley” much?) But that being sad, Crowley assists him on his journey when he feels is a right moment to do so, by nudging him in a direction of questioning Heaven (cause he sees his Angel is deep down in his propaganda sh*t and Crowley just wants him out of there), but also just by being there where Aziraphale is in distress without making uncomfortable moments more uncomfortable for him (I remember specifically this being pointed out by someone already, I will make sure to link the post once I find it). So as mentioned, both of them see through each other, like no one else they know does, right? Imagine how the will see through each other even more clearly after both of them are on the same page in this regard.

Ok I will be going to sleep .. soonish cause if I said "now" that would be lying tbf I just take tooo long to prepare for sleep

[forestdeath1]

According to you Sirius was Walburga's favourite son and they had quite a lovable normal mother son relationship before all the rebel drama.

And in the books he kept Buckbeak in his mother's bedroom and spend hours locked inside that room.

But it is canon he later in life hated her.

What do you think was going through his mind all those times? Was he hating it? Or was he trying to find atleast one good memory with her? Or he didn't even care?

(Also I like to think Sirius looked uncannily similar to his mother. So much so that if he was a woman anybody could have sold him as Walburga herself.)

He wasn't trying to FIND good memories with her. He was trying to FORGET the good memories with her. Poor Sirius argued with Kreacher as if he was arguing with his mother, they were so heavily dependent on each other in their toxicity. Terribly complex and unhealthy relationships.

I think Sirius always deep down couldn't fully understand whether leaving his family was the right thing to do, and whether staying would have changed anything. He hates Grimmauld Place 12 not just because it was a bad place for him; he hates it because it's a living reminder of everything lost - his family, his childhood, his brother, father, and mother, the Blacks. He doesn't want to regret it, so he prefers to think only ill of them. He constantly convinces himself of how much he hates them. But Sirius himself approaches the tapestry and starts conversations about them all. He's always drawn there.

Yes, he will never forgive their blood purism and fanaticism. He ran away to be with James, with Dumbledore, to stand against everything his family had done for centuries, but deep down he knew he left his family, and it was an unhealing wound he tried to mend by trying to be even more useful in the fight against evil, trying to be needed and valuable, constantly reminding himself of who the Blacks really were and what Sirius was fighting against and why he ran away.

Sirius was also so attached to James because James replaced everything for him - literally his entire family. But James couldn't fully heal his wound; he was with Lily. Sirius was always lonely. Without roots, without clan, without a past. A blank slate, on which nothing appeared except for an endless and very deep feeling of loneliness and attempts to become important, valuable, and needed to someone. The only one who somewhat filled this void for him was James. Then Harry.

But Sirius always felt he wasn't worthy enough of all these good people because he was a Black, and the Blacks were one of the reasons why all these good people were dying. He wanted to draw a line between himself and the Blacks, to distance himself as much as possible from them, to not feel all that guilt and shame. This is very similar to feelings towards one's homeland, if your country starts an aggressive war or becomes a dictatorship (this is very well described in the diaries of Germans who fled during fascism or defectors from the USSR). You love your country, but you hate it and want to dissociate from it as much as possible, want to forget that you are of that nation, but that country, that homeland - it's forever in you, in your soul, in your blood, and you'll never get rid of it. This country raised you, it's where you belonged, and in a new one - you're forever a stranger. And no matter how much you're ashamed of it, hate it, your heart will always beat harder when your country is mentioned somewhere.

Don't get me wrong, the feeling of unworthiness wasn't his evident trait, it's very much a deep-seated belief that activated in the toughest situations. The way Sirius sheepishly offers Harry to live with him... it breaks my heart every time.

Sirius is one of the strongest and most tragic figures in the entire series, with one of the most complex fates and characters. Few in the entire series can compare with him in strength of character (there are only three characters who are as strong a character as he is). Fanon Sirius doesn't carry a drop of the tragedy and complexity of character that canon Sirius does. Canon Sirius has so much depth, pain, passion, love, loneliness, that I still discover something new about him every time I reread the books.

As for him resembling Walburga in terms of appearance - I don't know. I always imagined him as a male version of Bella. But perhaps he really does resemble Walburga.

[spacetrashpile]

DRACTOBER DAY 2: EVIL OF DRACULA

Welcome back to Dractober, where I watch and rank one film adaptation of Dracula for every day in October! I'll be ranking each film on two one to ten scales (was it a good adaptation of Dracula and did I enjoy it?) and giving the film a final score at the end by averaging out the other scores.

Today's film is Evil of Dracula (1974). This is a Japanese horror film directed by Michio Yamamoto and distributed by Toho films, who you may recognize as the distributors of the Godzilla series, for one. The film follows Professor Shiraki, the new hire at a girls' school in a rural area of Japan, where a mysterious monster is looking to prey upon him and the students. This film is the third in a trilogy called The Bloodthirsty Trilogy, but it stands perfectly well on it's own (I didn't even know it was the last in the trilogy until I looked it up).

This review will contain spoilers, so if any of this sounded interesting to you, I highly suggest checking out the film before you read my review. If you are interested, please keep in mind that this film deals heavily with physical and sexual assault of underage girls.

Now, let's get into the review!

All of the films I'm watching this month (except for the 1931 Bela Lugosi Dracula and the Francis Ford Coppola film) are ones I've never seen in full before, and Evil of Dracula was no different. As such, when doing research on these films and where to watch them, I tried to keep myself as un-spoiled as I possibly could. From what I did read about this film before I went into it, I was expecting this to be a Dracula adaptation in no more than name. I was pleasantly surprised to find this was not entirely the case!

While the general story of the novel was obviously not adapted, I think this film managed to grasp the spirit of the novel and it's characters quite well. The movie is a slow creep of horror, which suits the tone of the novel quite well. The first 15 or so minutes of the movie, despite the locale shift, feel exactly like what it's like to read the opening chapters of the novel for the first time. You know that Jonathan/Shiraki is in danger from the moment he enters the house. You know that Dracula/the Principal is a vampire and that he only holds bad intentions for our main character. But he doesn't know that yet, and you get to watch in horror (and delight) as he figures it out.

The rest of our main cast also fill in the roles of the rest of the protagonists of the novel. Dr. Shimomura fills a similar role to Dr. Van Helsing, and the girls (Kumi, Kyoko, and Yukiko) fill the roles of Mina, Lucy, and occasionally the suitors (Prof. Shiraki also occasionally fills Mina, Van Helsing, or the suitors' roles, by nature of him being the protagonist and by nature of how many of these characters don't make it out alive). Renfield is also present, with role in the novel split directly down the middle between a previous professor of the school who's now in an insane asylum and a current professor who acts as the principal's right hand man.

To be clear, however, this is far from a one to one adaptation of the novel. Even outside of the very different location and inciting incidents, the similarities to the plot of the novel stall out around the second act. From the third act onward, the film takes it's own spin on vampirism and the fate of our unlucky protagonists- only two of whom make it out of the film alive.

This film takes numerous liberties with the story of Dracula, which is exactly what I expected from the outset. However, it's not trying to be a one to one, it's trying to be a horror film taking inspiration from Dracula, and I think it does that quite well. The two most notable types of horror in the novel (to me) are the creeping horror of the unknown and the horror of bodily violation, and this film does a great job preserving those elements.

So, is this film a good adaptation of Dracula? I'd say it gets a 6/10 in that regard. It's far from one to one, and as the film goes on it takes more and more liberties with the plot of the original novel, but it nonetheless manages to maintain the spirit and tone of the novel pretty effectively.

On to our next category! How much did I enjoy the film?

This film was my first ever foray into Japanese horror and I had a great time. I see why everyone says it's awesome now! I don't watch a lot of horror in the grand scheme of things (mostly because I'm a wuss when it comes to visual gore, lol), but this film really did it for me. I've mentioned the slow, creeping horror of the film already, but I can't stress enough how much that worked for me.

I briefly mentioned above the horror of body violation, and I wanted to get into that more here. As I've said in my previous posts about Dracula, vampirism and blood transfer in the novel is a very sexual thing. It's also a very horrific thing, and sometimes these two traits can be difficult to balance. This film did so very well, primarily because most of the Principal's victims are his students, and it's an inherently horrific thing to watch these girls be preyed upon. I mention this here both because, to me, Dracula is a novel about sexual assault, and I greatly appreciated this film for maintaining that in a way that did not feel like it was pandering to the male gaze, but also because this means this is a film that deals heavily with sexual assault of underage girls. I mentioned it above, but I'd be remiss to not hone in on this fact, both because this is a very sensitive topic and because you might interpret wildly differently than me. While I personally found the film to be focusing on the horror of the situation rather than the sexuality of it, you may think otherwise, and that's fine! But from my point of view, I really appreciated the way in which the sexual themes of the novel were handled in this film, and that's a highlight to me.

This film was certainly not perfect, however. The film relies primarily on lengthy, dialogue heavy scenes to communicate the vast majority of it's plot points. I was personally fine with this, but it can definitely make the movie feel a bit sluggish at times. The acting from our main character also left things to be desired at times, and his acting did not help this feeling in these expository scenes.

The other main issue this film has is it's budget. A lot of the actual horror and fight scenes in the film feel very cheap, and as a result, cheesy. The blood often looked watery, and the special effects weren't great, even taking into account that this is a 70s film. The fight scenes where we actually got to see Dracula/the Principal fight someone rather than just bite them felt particularly comical, like no one really knew how to fake fight but more so how to flail. While the creeping horror of the film was nice, it can't be everything, we have to see the conclusion of that build up at some point, and unfortunately, said climaxes almost always fall flat. In the end, I think this movie gets a 7/10 for enjoyment. I enjoyed the movie, but it was far from perfect.

Overall, I'm giving Evil of Dracula a 6.5/10. The film's loyalty to the novel was a pleasant surprise, and the slow building horror was a great fit for a Dracula adaptation. However, the film was far from an extremely loyal adaptation, and the adrenaline-filled moments that were meant to give conclusion to the slow creep of horror often felt cheap and silly, rather than actually scary. Nonetheless, I recommend giving Evil of Dracula a watch sometime this spooky season!

[shions-chin-scar]

i want a full essay on haruta, you seem like a knowing person

*cracks knuckles* My time has come.

So, Haruta. Whether you love 'im, hate 'im, love to hate 'im, he's a character that few people in the fandom feel indifferent about. But I believe that he's also slightly deeper than the giggling sword-wielding maniac he seems to be at first glance.

Also there will be MANGA SPOILERS so don't click if you're anime-only

First, let's take a look at his name.

Shigemo is written with 重 (“shige” = heavy, important) and 面 (“mo” = mask), and together those two characters can literally be read as "multi-faced". This is already a hint to his personality: Haruta is someone who acts childish and humorous, but is actually cruel and cold-hearted.

Haruta is written with 春 (“haru” = spring) and 太 (“ta” = thick/big, a common male suffix). Spring is the symbol of new life, of a fresh start. It could be a possible hint to him recently becoming a curse user, or maybe a reference to his power.

Next, his perceptive and cunning nature.

Because yes, Haruta is actually pretty damn smart and tactical despite acting like a goofball most of the time. People are way too quick to write him off as a weakling and make fun of both him and Nobara for her defeat at his hands. Here are a few examples:

^Recognizing Nobara and accurately gauging her growth despite not fighting her during their previous (and only) encounter

^Understanding what the injured Megumi was doing and not letting his own guard down

^Realizing what Megumi was about to do (unfortunately too late)

He's also surprisingly self-aware about his own limitations despite his arrogance regarding his own abilities. When Gojo broke the barrier around the school, what did Haruta do? Immediately dip. When Nanami backhanded him across the whole store, what did Haruta do? Realize he was way outmatched and try to run. He's different from the likes of Juzo (hang rack guy) or Jougo, who overestimate what they can do and underestimate their opponents. Haruta knows he's not hot stuff, and as he says it himself, he's best at picking on the weak.

And let's not forget what a tactical fighter he is.

^Sending his sword after Nitta, fooling Nobara and allowing him to both keep track of her position and take her down

^Targets his opponent's weak spots to take them down

That was actually one of my few pet peeves with the anime: it felt like they made him less tactical. They removed Nobara's line about him aiming for specific points, as well as him injuring her leg, and it made his question about the sword hitting her head seem genuine rather than sarcastic.

His potential past.

This is where I'll be entering headcanon territory, but canon backs me up quite a bit on certain elements of it.

Haruta mentions that he doesn’t even know what exactly his own cursed technique does or how it works. Therefore, the likelihood of him coming from a family of sorcerers or having received a formal jujutsu education are more or less void. Had he inherited a technique like Nobara or Megumi, or gotten schooling, he would probably know more about it.

There is a running theme among curse users (whose past we know) of being rejected, sometimes even persecuted by society for their ability to see the supernatural:

Therefore, it’s not too far-fetched to assume that Haruta likely went through something similar himself. It would explain a few things about him.

Haruta's psychological issues.

I'm going to say it straight off the bat: I won't diagnose him with anything. I'm not a psychologist, though I did study psych in college. All I'm going to do is list a few of the obvious issues he has and their potential causes. JJK is a series of grey and gray, not black and white. No one is pure good and pure evil in it (except arguably some of the Curses because, well... they're Curses), and everyone has their own unique circumstances that led to them being the way they are.

That being said, one thing that immediately jumped out to me about Haruta is his barely hidden low self-esteem and insecurities. He's actually quite self-deprecating. If he just did it around other people I'd be inclined to believe that it's part of his "uwu i'm baby" front, but he also does it when he's alone.

It's worth noting that he also seems to specialize in sneak attacks from behind - fitting for a self-admitted bully who prefers to prey on the weak.

Yet at the same time, he's pretty full of himself and seems to have a certain paradoxical sense of superiority.

That's why I half-jokingly said in the tags of a previous posts that he has an inferiority-superiority complex. I think Haruta knows that he's not strong, but that his technique is absolutely broken even if he himself isn't particularly skilled (though he seems to have gained some confidence between the school invasion and the Shibuya incident - that's part of why I think he's a fairly recent curse user).

It's worth noting that the jujutsu world is much more dangerous than the regular one and death roams around every corner, doubly so for curse users who have a Kill On Sight order on their heads, and triply so when one’s cursed technique isn’t suited for fighting. It must be easy to feel weak and helpless under those circumstances.

Now let's get to the obvious, which are also Haruta's biggest flaws: his sadism and impulsivity.

Haruta obviously takes a lot of pleasure in hurting others, but what's especially concerning is he seems unable to hold himself back when he sees an opportunity for it, or think of long-term consequences. He tried to kill an injured Hanami just because he could, without realizing that doing so would anger the other Curses, and he went after Megumi despite barely escaping his encounter with Nanami an hour or so prior, which led to his death. He actually reminds me a bit of Himiko Toga from My Hero Academia, in that both of them just want to have fun in this world. What Toga really wants deep down is love and acceptance though - unfortunately Haruta never got the character development that she did.

He also clearly lacks empathy, which in itself isn't necessarily a bad thing, but combined with a personality that enjoys tormenting other people and has poor planning skills, it makes for a devastating combo.

^A perfectly healthy reaction to seeing an injured ally

It's worth noting that sadism and aggressive behaviors are believed to stem from both genetic and environmental (e.g., childhood trauma) factors. It can for example be a way for the person to turn the tables on the world and vent out their past hurts and anger, by making other people suffer like they suffered. Or a way to feel powerful - again, Haruta is someone with low self-esteem who preys exclusively on the weak.

TL;DR

Haruta Shigemo is actually pretty damn cool and smart and not just some one-dimensional grunt and he deserved better.

^Me @ Gege

[bunglegaydogs]

skk dynamics!

I just want to talk about Soukoku so that is precisely what I'm going to do ^^

As per, this post has no specific or planned direction, I'm just gonna see where it takes me lol.

It genuinely irks me to see the rampant mischaracterisation within the fandom pertaining to not only just Soukoku, but several other characters as well. Ranpo, Akutagawa, Kunikida, etc. It might just be my dumb little screaming brain being scared of something that's not supposed to be in my head, or hell, something that's in the BACK of my mind, and I know that makes no sense but it does to me xoxo

I just really treasure the dynamic between Dazai and Chuuya and I get frightened that when I think somebody is mischaracterising them, I'm the only one that thinks that and that I'm just perceiving them wrong. Which genuinely is the one thing I never wish to do; when I write fics, my number one goal is to make the characters as true to life as possible. I try my damndest to do justice to their characters, and based off of the lovely people that read it and comment, I'm doing something right, surprisingly.

The characterisation of Dazai and Chuuya specifically is something so important to me because I relate to the both of them the most out of any of my interests. And I have a LOT of interests.

I don't know why or how, but they came to be my absolute favourite characters over all other fandoms and shows and games and films I enjoyed. (I'm excluding the Marauders fandom here, because I also love Remus and Sirius exactly like this). I piss myself off with it sometimes, because I accidentally base all of my creative outlets off of Soukoku, and lo and behold, I have about 30 unfinished ideas/fics after one night of ruminating over these motherfuckers.

Anyways. Like I said, this post has no point, it's just my incoherent, incessant rambling that if I don't write down, will slowly eat away at me until I die ^^

So, I guess, without further ado, I'm just gonna get going?

LMAO

Anyways,

Soukoku's dynamic has always been interesting. We were introduced to them first (as a pair) as enemies; ex-partners, rivals, loathing each other. But, when we slowly got to see more of their relationship, more of their past, more of their dynamic, quite a lot of us slowly came to realise; oh shit. There's more to them here.

The two of these together aren't just black-and-white characters. Dazai is not inherently good just because he works for the ADA. Chuuya is not inherently bad just because he works for the PM. They are morally grey characters. They've killed people, tortured people, stolen, beaten, attacked, hurt, all that good stuff that comes with being in the Mafia (nevermind fucking Mafia executives). Something that a lot of people seem to forget is where to draw the line between these two organisations; if the ADA is harbouring two fugitives that are ex-mafia, one of them being an executive, another fugitive that terrorised the streets of Japan as a man-eating tiger, and is run by an ex-assassin who was close with the current leader of the Port Mafia, who's to say that they're the good guys? Who is the one to define the evil and the light?

Nobody.

There are no sides.

The Port Mafia aren't the bad guys, and the Agency aren't the good guys. They're both doing their morally grey jobs with their morally grey cast of characters.

Yes, on a base level, the ADA are supposed to be the good guys, whereas the Mafia are the bad. It's a narrow-minded way of thinking and looking at the series, but on a surface level, yes, that seems to be the case.

However, we have layers to this. We know how morally grey these characters are, good or bad. Take Tanizaki, for example, and his way of going about it when Naomi is threatened. He knows he's morally grey. He knows he's not one of the good guys. None of them are! They save people, and that makes them good. But it doesn't make them the good guys. I'm not calling them bad people, of course not. I'm just saying, in the wise words of a post I once read months back, 'Maturing is realising that neither the Port Mafia or the ADA are the good or bad guys'. Something along those lines.

ANYWAYS, I've written this much already and still haven't spoken about SKK.

My point here was their good apple/bad apple dynamic. Dazai is from the same place Chuuya is at, the Mafia. So, by calling Dazai a 'bad guy' you're indirectly also calling Chuuya a bad guy. You're calling Hirotsu a bad guy. You're calling Akutagawa a bad guy. You're calling Higuchi a bad guy. You're calling all of these Mafia members the bad guys; when that's not strictly true. Morally grey characters, yet not monsters. Not bloodthirsty, demonic, evil motherfuckers. They're in the Mafia; not a good start, of course. But again, this does not make them bad people. Actions don't define the person you make yourself out to be, if that makes any sense. Just because a bad person did one good thing one time does not necessarily make them a good person. But if they strive to become a better one by constantly doing good and making active efforts to change their ways, then they're well on their way to earning that title, or coming close to it. Just because someone good did a bad thing one time does not automatically make them a bad person. They're not awful for making one bad choice, depending on the severity and their actions after the choice. Because it can go both ways; strive to be a better person, or fall to be a bad one.

ANYWAYS.

SOUKOKU.

I LOVE SOUKOKU.

So, I'm actually going to talk about them instead of fucking RABITTING ON FOR HOWEVER LONG.

Anyways.

Soukoku is special to me. I relate to the both of them the most. I recognise the flaws in each of them, and I recognise the good. I recognise the changes they're willing to put themselves through for the sake of the greater good, and I recognise the struggles they've been through to get there. I see myself in them, and so I can't help but latch onto them and want to keep them for myself. My subconscious wants to protect them and make them happy and becomes unhealthily attached to these fictional characters.

Anyways.

Soukoku dynamics. Right.

One of my favourite dynamics about Soukoku is the childlike behaviour they exhibit with one another. Even after seven years and they still bicker like they did at 15. I've said it a thousand times before and I'll fucking say it again; they let each other be the children that they never got to be. They let loose with one another. They unwind. They relax. They recognise their similarities (much to Chuuya's chagrin and unwavering denial) and each other's differences. Where there is hate, there is love and trust. It's buried deep. But it's there. The two of them have their walls put high up. They guard themselves well. They keep their shit inside. They let not another soul see what goes on in their hearts. So, with their crying children stuck inside of them and locked down, they let them out around each other. By simply being with each other at any given moment, they're healing their inner children, and allowing them to breathe.

Each moment with Soukoku is so delicate. It feels intrusive to watch their intimate scenes. It feels like such a beautiful moment, so precious to watch and so delicate to touch. The intimate scenes with the two of these are either emotionally charged, blazing, action-packed and full of chaos, or quiet and serene. Tranquil. It's never really neutral ground for them. It's either chaos or serenity, just a calm moment between the two of them, away from the rest of the world and taking (unknowing) comfort in each other's presence.

It's the small smiles from Dazai when Chuuya isn't looking. It's the words and actions with hidden meanings exchanged between them. It's the concern when one of them gets hurt, or is stuck in an unprecedented situation. It's the unfaltering trust and loyalty between each other that pushes them forward, even if it kills them, or seems fruitless. It's the determination that sits in the both of them to protect those that they care about, and put the world above all else for just a moment.

Small, knowing glances. Inside jokes. Petulant, playful bickering. Concerned thoughts. Constant thoughts.

I find it hard to believe that nobody else finds Dazai and Chuuya suspicious; they're hardly discreet about how much they think about each other. Example number one:

Chuuya is drunk with Hirotsu and Kajii. On a whim, he decides to go on a rant about Dazai. Hirotsu and Kajii are apparently sick of it; he does this a lot. He decides, impulsively, to ring Dazai's phone. Dazai picks up the fucking phone. Hirotsu answers, Dazai's like 'Oh, hey, yeah this is my old phone.' Blatantly lies to the motherfucker, because Dazai, honey, you're at home reading; what have you got your old phone from seven years ago next to you, working, and on for? Chuuya wants to speak with him. Gets angry when he can't talk to him to shout at him and complain. Keeps trying to call him back in anger.

Now, if I do say so myself, that's pretty suspicious of them.

Example two:

Dazai in fucking general. He does not shut the fuck up about Chuuya. He tells everyone he meets about how much he spends thinking about Chuuya (everyone except the Agency ahem). He's fucking gay.

That also brings me on to another point. Dazai rarely speaks about Chuuya with the ADA; I'm not too sure I've ever seen him say anything about him to them, except in Wan and the like. (I'm dumb tho tbf). However, upon Yosano figuring out Chuuya's identity, his first reaction is "Goddamn it, Dazai told them". Not that he's a widely known gravity manipulator and its not fucking hard to figure it out, plus the fact that he's a Mafia executive, PLUS the fact that they're a detective Agency? His first impulse is to blame Dazai lmao. Anyways.

You can ignore the first half of that paragraph I was just chatting mad wham.

Anyways.

I just enjoy how peaceful and serene the intimate moments between Soukoku can be. Even the world around them is falling apart, it still somehow feels so beautiful, real, raw, and personal. When Dazai is watching Chuuya fight in storm bringer, it feels so quiet. All hell is breaking loose, yet Dazai is so breathtaken by Chuuya that we feel as if we're interrupting. I don't know why but all I picture upon imagining that scene is a very quiet scene, just for a few seconds, of no music or anything, and white. Just the colour white in as many places as possible. A softness to the screen. I don't know. It just feels like that to me and I can't explain it.

Soukoku's dynamics are so important, because when people mischaracterise both Dazai and Chuuya and then smush that together it creates an abomination of what was supposed to be beautiful and ruins the relationship they really have, muddying their name. Their relationship is special. It's so much more than hate.

Hate is also a crucial part of their relationship, however. And a lot of us Soukoku shippers tend to forget that. We're so blinded by how much we want them to admire and adore each other that we forget how much they do despise one another. And I've mentioned this before in another post.

Their hate is real. It's not a ruse, it's the real deal. They genuinely do hate one another; but that hate is filled with so much more than downright disgust. That hate is filled with the trust of their bond, seven years of partnership, love, and so many unspoken things between the two of them.

Chuuya hates Dazai because he hates himself. He refuses to let himself see the similarities between him and Dazai, because he could never be like him. Chuuya often struggles with his identity and who he is and just how human he is. He didn't know until he was 16 whether he was a real human or not. And so, upon meeting this other human at 15 who craves death and wants to just throw away this human life that he's been given? That's a hard no for Chuuya. He resents Dazai for being so willing to give up his life so carelessly, so easily. He'd do anything at that point to realise just how human he was, to prove his humanity to others and to show his compassion and human qualities. And he stumbles across this stone-cold, suicidal kid who wants to let go of all of that, sees no point in trying to even be human, and who is lacking empathy for other human lives. Chuuya disgusts and loathes that. So, he wants nothing to do with him. Does not want to be attached to him in any way shape or form. Refuses to acknowledge their similarities. So, when he's being tortured, and the first thing he hallucinates is Dazai? It preys on his insecurities and deepest fears. He fears that he's not at all a human, and he fears that he is like Dazai, an unfeeling, indifferent, seemingly heartless boy who wishes to give up on the world, who wishes he was never born, who wishes nothing more than to be granted that sweet release of death.

I can't articulate very well, so for that I do apologise! But yeah, this has always been an important scene for me. In his moment of weakness, Chuuya hallucinated the person that he wanted to see the least, first. He hallucinated Dazai before his freshly dead friends, etc. And claims that, whilst he's being tortured, after Verlaine has killed the people closest to him, that he hates him the most out of anyone in the world. A lot of people said that this was an overreaction; respectfully, shut the fuck up ^^ My boy was being tortured, give him some leeway, yeah?

Anyway.

It just goes to show how deep those roots of self-hatred go within Chuuya; it seems him and Dazai have something more in common than originally thought.

Now, I don't actually have a complete grasp on the reason why Dazai hates Chuuya so much. Because, he doesn't hate him as much as Chuuya hates him, or as much as he makes it out to be. Dazai is an eccentric bastard, dramatising things for the sake of stirring up trouble. He overexaggerates for a variety of reasons, one of those being to conceal any emotion he IS feeling. He makes a big song and dance out of the little things to try and forget about the big things. To not think. Dazai is not numb by nature. He's numb by conditioning. He has conditioned himself to feel nothing, to be cold and logical and rational. Mori, of course, only exemplified these traits, making him colder and more calculated than ever/before. So, my blind guess is that he holds a sort of resentment to Chuuya for being able to be more normal than he is, for wanting to live and not seeing the world as a boring, pointless place. But, he also wants Chuuya to thrive as a human, to be able to live his life knowing and being sure of his humanity. And, when it's only him and Verlaine, he grows quite... emotional (trust me, it's not a lot but that's the only word I can think of) when talking about his humanity. That, Chuuya has to be a human. Because how could he hate someone so much? He has to be a human, because if he wasn't he would like Dazai more.

I think Dazais "issue" (I CAN'T THINK OF WORDS RIGHT NOW LMAO) is that he just wants Chuuya to like him. Maybe he wants a friend. Maybe there's something else to it. But, Dazai has always had strong... feelings, towards Chuuya. "Jokingly" telling him he loves him. Getting awfully close when he doesn't need to, and never does with anyone else. Yeah, you're not fooling anybody hun. Makes many romantic comments that could be passed off as something else entirely about him. Showing active concern for him. Caring for him. Thinking about him. He shows a lot more attention to Chuuya than he gets in return; by that I mean speaks about it more. Is a lot more verbal than Chuuya is.

GAHHHH sorry sorry I just have too much to say and don't know when to SHUT THE FUCK UP but I have SO MUCH more to say, but I'm going to be going off and writing my shitty little fics that should've been written yonks ago <3

have a lovely day/night! ^^

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hi, I was hopefully I could request a fem reader x heinsburg from the resident evil series, maybe like the reader is mother miranda daughter and uses reader to keep an eye on all the other characters but her and heinsburg fall in love, and maybe get married in secret or maybe they leave the village just before it blows up and live a happy life together

.⋆｡To Our End｡⋆.

Karl Heisenberg x plus size reader

Change was coming and it was coming quickly but Heisenberg wouldn’t let either of them fall to the wayside without a proper goodbye

Warnings: canon typical violence, reader is one of Miranda’s children, angst, secret relationship, I try to follow the events of the game, mentions of death, ambiguous ending

WC: 1.5k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Mother Miranda had her eyes everywhere in the village. She knew everything that happened in her domain and it was because of one of her daughters- Y/N. 

The youngest of her children, the most favoured. She blended into the shadows, moving with a quiet step and only leaving a chill breeze and a feeling of dread in her wake. Even Dimitrescu feared her and avoided her as much as possible.

Yet there was one who actively sought her out. 

“My darkest darling, how kind of you to bless me with your beauty on this dreary day.” Y/N stepped from the shadows of Heisenberg’s workshop and into the dim light with a bashful smile. The man had been hunched over his desk, toiling away on some new project of his but immediately stopped when he sensed her presence.

She practically fell into his outstretched arms in her haste to be in his embrace once more. The smell of motor oil and copper overwhelmed her senses as his warmth enveloped her. For a brief moment, the voices of all the people in town and Mother herself were chased away and her mind went quiet, as it always did when he was beside her.

A chuckle rumbled through his chest before the rugged man planted a kiss to the top of her head, revelling in the feel of her soft body against him. “Mother has something planned and it’s big. She believes that it will succeed but I know that it will kill us all.” Her voice, like the shadows she inhabited, was wispy and weak. But it grabbed his attention even more than the most powerful of sirens.

“I suspected so. She has been quite fixated on her daughter as of late.” He hugged her tighter as one of his large hands travelled to the back of her neck so he could keep her pinned to him for as long as he could manage. “We’ll figure it out- we’ve survived before, we can do it again.”

She nodded and nuzzled into his touch but the fear that slowly grew in her belly could not be tamped out so easily.

——————

The lycans were going wild- like rabid dogs they constantly howled and snarled, eager to be let loose. Y/N could taste fear in the air, it clung to everything like smoke after a fire. There was only a small collection of villagers left, holed up in a single building at the edge of town. 

She snuck them food and medicine, leaving it on their doorstep but they never looked out. She heard babies crying as their mothers desperately tried to keep them quiet and her cold heart clenched behind her ribs. 

Mother’s call pulled her away from the survivors and she melted back into the shadows, reemerging in the church built for their maker. 

Donna and Angie were already perched in their usual chair, faithfully sitting in wait while Heisenberg was hugging the far wall, hat lowered over his face, at least until Y/N’s light footsteps filled the space.

Her eyes met the reflective glasses of her lover but did not remain there for long, lest the others realise the true nature of their affections. Dimitrescu stormed into the cavernous room, rage in her stride. “Why have you called us here?” She demanded, earning a scoff from Karl as he lit a cigarette. She levelled a glare at him before her attention turned to Y/N.

“You. Why has she called us?” Yet she remained silent, clasping her hands in front of her like the dutiful daughter she pretended to be. “Useless.” The giantess scoffed and turned her back on her youngest sister. Y/N felt Karl’s gaze still fixed upon her but she did not meet it. He loved to tease even when the risk was far greater than the reward.

“Mother is not here yet?” Moreau lumbered in next, carrying with him the sour smell of salt water and decaying kelp. 

“Do you see her here?” Karl retorted sarcastically as he breathed in the homegrown tobacco. Moreau ignored him and took his place beside Y/N, blocking her view of the others. She did not mind though, she preferred to be hidden from her ‘siblings’, it allowed her to watch the broad shoulders and overpowering stature of the man she loved without judgement or detection.

“Silence.” Miranda spoke through Y/N’s voice, immediately shutting up the bickering of her children. They did not turn to the youngest of them but instead to the altar where the air before it began to shimmer and warp as crows gathered together in a black mass that quickly took shape.

Y/N slunk back even further, her job now done as Mother appeared before her children. She trembled as anxiety mounts in her belly and her mind screams at her to run from whatever plan Miranda had for them. 

Five jars were lovingly placed on the altar, each one radiating a venomous yellow light and containing a dark object within them that was obscured by the fogged glass. “My children, this will be the greatest and most important task that I have bestowed upon you. These urns contain a new age for us, a new beginning of light and power. You will each receive one and I expect that you will guard it with your life.” 

Moreau took his quickly, tucking it into his bulbous chest as a mother would hold her infant. His glassy eyes filled with blind obedience- he would do anything for Mother’s approval.

The others rightfully hesitated but a withering look from their maker urged them forwards. Karl was the last to take his jar. His large calloused hand curled around the glass and he chanced a look at the shadowy figure to his right.

He could see the fear and the anxiety in her stance as clear as day. They both knew that this would be the last task that Mother would give them, their usefulness would run dry. 

He needed to act fast.

——————

“My love, we are in the middle of a war, do you really think a romantic night is necessary?” She asked but yet still approached him in the vast field wearing her best dress. The dark velvet clung to her generous curves in a way that drove the man insane with want.

He took her much smaller hand on his own and laid a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “That is exactly why we are having this night to ourselves. I wish for a perfect night with the woman I love before everything falls. Alcina has already been killed and I suspect that my number will soon be called.” His icy blue eyes, now not hidden by his dark glasses, reflected the bright moonlight like a still lake, capturing her in their beauty.

“Do not say that, we can fight this, we can survive.” She pleaded as he pressed another soft kiss to her inner wrist, savouring the way he could feel her heartbeat against his lips.

A chill breeze washed over them but neither of them were affected by the cold, they hadn’t been for decades. “Ethan Winters will stop at nothing to get his child back and not only have I angered him but I hold a piece of her. I just want you to grant me one last wish before I am to perish. Let me be selfish one more time.”

She shook her head. “Then he shall kill me too. I am one of Miranda’s children. I am a monster.” Karl smiled at her.

“You are not a monster, not like the rest of us. You use your gift to protect and to guide from the shadows. Ethan knows this and he will spare you.”

“What did you do?” Her voice carried off on the wind, weak with disbelief and grief for a loss she had not yet experienced.

“I made a deal. He gets his daughter and he helps me kill Miranda but he spares you. I suspect that I will not live to see dawn.” Tears black as night rolled down her full cheeks and he knew that she would fight him but she would not deny his request, she never could. 

“So, on my last night walking this Earth-“ Her hand remained in his grasp as he knelt on one knee before her. “-Let me make you my wife.” He produced a ring from the pocket of his coat. She gave a very undignified squeak and his eyes sparkled.

“Yes. Yes!” The dark metal, folded by his own hands, slid onto her finger, fitting perfectly as he knew it would. Y/N beamed and the shadows that naturally trailed behind her brightened to match her breathtaking smile. Before the ring even had the chance to settle against her skin, she threw herself into his strong arms, her lips connecting with his in a kiss that both radiated love and unimaginable fear.

Karl fell back into the long grass, dragging her soft body fully on top of him as the kiss quickly grew into something more. 

Their vows were howled into the night in shadow and in gunpowder, weaving together a tapestry that would never be completed. Their love, while born from evil, would last far beyond its destruction. They would love until their end.

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MASK MONDAYS EPISODE 2: PROSPERA MERCURY

Welcome back to week 2 of Mask Mondays! You thought I wouldn't do it, but I did. And when I say "you" here, I mean "me."

For any tag browsers, I have recently resolved to analyze a different mask, helmet, or headgear-adorned fictional character every Monday until I quit this website forever. I'll be real: Returning to Tumblr after two years' break has been quite the balancing act. It's addictive in a particularly draining way, and reconciling that has taken a lot of energy I would rather have spent on research. Therefore, this week I'll be discussing a character who I already have strong and well-informed opinions about: Prospera Mercury, the principal antagonist of Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury.

Okay, folks, let's be on the level here. What the fuck? Why does no one ever talk about Prospera? I know the show is popular here, it's what pushed me to watch it in the first place. Everyone loves posting fanart and talking about how endearing the protagonists are. But there's NO ATTENTION PAID to Prospera Mercury? Compelling arc and presence of character aside, I would've assumed the tall evil lady in the business suit would've been enough for a ton of people. Something is certainly amiss.

What bothers me most about this situation is that Prospera Mercury is arguably the most well-realized character in her show. As a text, the Witch From Mercury has strong opinions about Gundam, The Tempest, and the world at large, and all of them are brought together by its antagonist. Prospera Mercury is an absolute well of material, far more than can be covered in a single post. So while I'll be returning to her later, I want to spend this week laying down foundations: If you'll allow me, I'll be trying to prove once and for all that The Witch From Mercury isn't just using The Tempest as set dressing.

Named after Gundam 0079 antagonist Char Aznable, the "Char clone" is perhaps the most ubiquitous concept in its franchise. Almost every Gundam show, film, and OVA contains a morally ambiguous masked antagonist who challenges the hero's moral principles while maintaining a complex and terse relationship with the villainous faction. The Witch from Mercury too adopts this concept, but twists it to say something truly controversial. Prospera Mercury, the text argues, is not a Char Aznable clone. Char Aznable is a Prospero of Milan clone.

It's no revelation that The Witch From Mercury is loosely based off William Shakespeare's "The Tempest," but understanding why this choice is so important requires a summary of its principal antagonist. The antivillainous sorcerer Prospero is a natural talent and skilled manipulator unjustly exiled from his place of birth. As he grows in ability, he is overtaken by resentment and dedicates himself to exacting revenge. He executes a grand plan that goes off nearly perfectly, but when on the verge of total success, Prospero has a change of heart. Realizing that bettering the future is more important than staying in the past, he steps down, relinquishing his power to the new generation.

To dispose with subtlety, Char's character arc in the original Gundam series is nearly identical to Prospero's. There's a reason Prospera is closer to Char in terms of motivation and role than any other Char clone before her: She's channeling the primordial Char from which they all descend!

Insane as this sentence sounds, Prospera Mercury's position as Char clone manifests Prospero's flaws in ways other adaptations couldn't possibly emulate. Take Prospera's willingness to shatter personal bonds in service of pointless revenge, a quality unmistakable in Char, but quite well-hidden in Prospero. Prospero treats Ariel (yes, telling the names apart will get annoying) as an equal all throughout The Tempest, yet takes for granted that Ariel's freedom comes second to punishing Antonio and Alonso. Similarly, despite the two sharing a strong platonic bond if not a romantic one, Char is more than willing to send Garma to die if it means twisting the knife in the Zabi family's side. Robert Egan's "This Rough Magic: Perspectives of Art and Morality in The Tempest," a woefully undercited article despite being over fifty years old, summarizes the magician's moral perspective as follows:

"[A]n acknowledgement of evil as part of the natural condition of man is unacceptable to Prospero. His years of seclusion in his library have instilled in him a moral perspective rooted not in the real world but in the ideals of his art... In short, he rejects the sinner with the sin" (176)

In this lens, the actions of both Prospera and Char make perfect sense; any who divert from their morality deserves punishment by default, and any who agree would readily give their all to strike back at the wickedness in the world.

Prospero, Prospera, and Char all also share a deep hypocrisy that is literally worn on the latter two parties' faces. Yes, after who knows how many paragraphs, it's finally time to talk about the mask. Despite being well aware that the system she participated in does not value human life, Prospera rebels against it not by joining forces with its opponents, but by acting as a model citizen with the goal of dismantling it from the inside. Char, obviously, embraces an identical practice, as does, I wish to argue, Prospero.

Intriguingly, Gundam's interpretation of "working within the system" does not hinge upon a pragmatic argument, as so many real-world political treatises have done, but an ethical one. Char and Prospera successfully co-opt Zeon and the Benerit group to suit their needs, but in doing so, adopt the practices that made these so abhorrent in the first place. When given the chance to ally with the Earthians or the Mercurian working class that took her in, Prospera instead embraces the mask of the corporate elite and becomes the usurper she despises.

After so bluntly accentuating Prospera's hypocritical and egotistical tendencies, The Witch From Mercury almost demands the viewer to interrogate its source material in search of parallels. And indeed, Prospero's most academically well-treaded moral failings (most of which involve Caliban) without exception find their origin in his resolve to serve as a king and judge on the island where he could not in Milan.

I have a lot more to talk about with Prospera (I have been intentionally avoiding discussing her relationships with Eri and Suletta), but my ass is running out of time and I'm not risking another three-paragraph tangent. I probably won't make another Monday post for Prospera anytime soon, but the Mask Mondays exercise will continue, whether I like it or not!

Link to "This Rough Magic:" https://www.jstor.org/stable/2868575