#to be such a thorough failure....like he has to be trying
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there isn't one woman liu chang can make happy
#to be such a thorough failure....like he has to be trying#when mudan said he's a miserable person and destined to be unhappy.......girl saw him immediately#i'm kind of obsessed with the idea of a happy romantic hero rn...dansoo from mmm and changyang from this...#flourished peony#ep19
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One of Repetition — Prologue
── ୨୧:arlecchino x reader
୨୧﹑synopsis :: your sudden dismissal from your position of harbinger, and the fatui as a whole, marks the end of the largest chapter in your life. you had never known a day without the tsaritsa's guidance, and you are set to never know another with it.
୨୧﹑genre :: angst
୨୧﹑content :: fem reader, reader is a harbinger, reader has a pyro vision, capitano is still not human and I haven't played fontaine or natlan ngl, possible ooc, not proofread but lightly edited
୨୧﹑words :: 6.5k
it only took me forever and a day. it's finally here being rewritten this is gonna take so long updates WILL be slow so you're gonna have to bear with me
CROSSPOSTED ON AO3
Her words left you exasperated, literally at a loss for words, and you struggled to comprehend the reason for it. There was nothing you could think of, no instance that struck you as prominent. Yet, somehow, as one of the Tsaritsa's children, you had become what any parent might refer to simply as a disappointment, their failure—the problem child who never quite ironed out their issues. You had always been faithful to her, hopelessly devoted to the archon and her will. News such as this came out of nowhere and struck you like a hammer to the chest.
Effective immediately, you are to be stripped of your title.
Two of her most mighty children were near and dear to her, and now the other had turned against you as he remains loyal to her. The Jester, who you once held in high regard, has turned against you. It is a bitter pill to swallow, for you must now sever ties with the one man you believed was truly deserving of serving the Tsaritsa. Your mother—your world—turns against you with him, before him, leading the way for him.
In vain, you draw your bow to strike an arrow between his eyes. You have to prove your strength and power as above your position, above him, even with this weapon that disagrees with your armour, but it means nothing. Your strike is blocked, and the Tsarita's Damselette Columbina moves to detain you. You believe she would not be strong enough, but you don't itch to fight eight other Harbingers or their Director. You understand that even you have a limit, and fighting what are supposed to be the strongest people in the country is not a part of that.
Your honour is on the line, an honour which would tarnish not only Brighella's name but also have a ripple effect on your soldiers, men and women who fight for you and do not deserve the punishment that would result from their actions.
"Think carefully, Brighella." Columbina's warning is not lost on you. "You could remain as a hero or fight, and I will lure the creature you brought from the Abyss and gut him before your eyes."
You do not want that. That creature is not yet loyal to the Tsaritsa but to you, and she will convince him he can save you. He will fall into her trap and die because, for all that you have taught him, he is naïve.
You bite your lip, trying to think of a way to escape and capture him so that you can run off somewhere. He does not deserve to die, but you can't think of anything. Not when you know how thorough these people are. There is not a will, really; there is only a has. He has fallen into her trap and is at the mercy of the Damselette.
It suddenly makes an abundance of sense why your greatsword was missing this morning from where you discarded it on the floor of your chambers. Someone took it. They took it so you would appear before the Tsaritsa without your armour to carry your bow with you, taking advantage of your subordinate's absence to wander around so exposed.
You revealed your every weak point just as you were meant to because you are an arrogant creature of habit.
"What if I am to obey?" You finally ask the question you did not want to, surrendering in a way, though the bite has not left your words.
"I'll leave him be." Her answer is swift. She expected that you would eventually give in and only needed to wait for it to happen.
You shake your head, dissatisfied with only that as your compensation. "Not enough."
The smile on her face does not waver, thin and deceitful as ever, eyes hidden and closed, unseen behind the band of lace. "Mm. I can't bargain anything else."
"Have him take my place." You lay your condition out firmly. There is only one to meet, and it is not a hard one at that. It would be easy to sway him into it, using whatever they plan to do to you as motivation. His loyalty and affection for you would make him accept it.
She ponders the situation and proposal momentarily, powerless to make the executive decision but undoubtedly keen on the thought of it all. "He believes that you are about to fall in battle to a foe and that he is going to save you."
You grit your teeth, knowing that this is her trap. Lure that creature to a place where he is vulnerable. It was not what you had expected, but it is no less the Damselette's style of acting. There is always a damsel, but perhaps she recognised that she would not suffice this time. She needed a better damsel for him to save; for that to work, it needed to be you.
She needs your name, reputation, and your relationship with your subordinate. They meld with her lies to write a tale of tragedy, with him as the grief-stricken hero vowing to take his mentor's place.
The thought of him rushing to his death under the guise of saving you spikes your blood cold, chilling you. You're aware of her cruelty and always have been, but to experience it is different than hearing about it from her perspective. You are experiencing it from the perspective of the victim.
His death was another factor to hold over your head—your penance—the anchor to force your compliance. Your blood boils with rage, but you cannot fight. Despite your anger and frustration, you know that lashing out will only cause further harm and pain.
There is only one thing you can do. You know you must. It's simply that you don't want to.
But…you must.
You must for him, that poor creature you tried to give a home to and who would never be in such a position if not for you and your ambition.
"Then I will fall, and you will use the honour I built into him to persuade him."
It was an honour meant to humanise him in a way, a being only able to imitate humanity. He had a mentor and something to fight for. Now you're imploring that it be used against him to burden him, but he will do well in your position.
Columbina smiles, that mocking smile like she knows the secrets of this world and more. "Would he really believe that?"
The helmet. You should use the helmet to your advantage. Your subordinate's first exposure to humanity being you, a woman in a metal helmet, seemed to last. He used to think that was what humans looked like, and he admitted as much to you as he had asked you to remove it once he could speak. Your impression left an indelible mark on him that he still treasures. Even if he were to see you in the aftermath, he would not uncover the lie.
"He has never seen my face. He would not recognise me."
Columbina accepts that readily, and her eyes open, pools of black and white visible through the cracks in the lace over her eyes. You've seen them before, inky black sclera and inhuman patterns decorating the borders of her irises, but you can't help the unsettled feeling that makes a home for itself in the pit of your stomach.
-
By the evening, you are stripped of your honours, titles and coat and dumped to the curb like a bag of rubbish somebody left out. There is no more fight, no more bargaining, no more arguing. Everyone has the things they want, for the most part, so you are all satisfied enough to remain amicable with each other. Without a fight, you allow the Jester to remove the fur-lined overcoat despite the cold that rushes over you once it is gone and discarded in a heap of fur and fabric on the floor with none of its previous value.
After that comes the slow, deliberate removal of every trinket that denoted you as you. From your delusion, several gifts to your very insignia, the only thing left of you is a lone pyro vision and the clothes on your back. You've never been more thankful to not wear a standard-issue uniform lest you be made to undress and hand that over, too.
That was it. Your everything.
With each piece of regalia taken, a part of yourself disappeared until you were left an empty husk of a person, your entire reason for being for hundreds of years snatched out from under you and spat on. Pierro allowed you the pity of dressing you in your weathered armour one last time to see you off, though he admits he cannot return the sword that goes with it.
The Harbingers were supposed to be the children of the Tsaritsa, and this was your grand disowning. A show of power and influence over her closest children and, by extension, the ability to bring pain to her lesser— to her followers. It was foolish of you to ever think you were special in her eyes for having been by her side since during the Archon War.
What did it matter when she left you amongst the rest of them?
The years you spent since you had hobbled into her life so tiny and cute were now reduced to a few personal belongings and a set of words that shattered your world to sharp and dangerous pieces that would only hurt you in your haste to reassemble them and string your life back together.
Whatever should remain of yourself is torn away as if those things never belonged to you. Your memories are tossed down the drain by time, and the crown you thought sat firmly atop your head as Snezhnaya's spoiled princess is broken by the hurry to dismantle your power in its entirety.
When you were young, your cuteness may have been your best asset: a small body with endearing quirks and the inability to walk long distances without tumbling. You required your mother for everything because you would only find danger in the harsh Snezhnayan winters. To even acquire your own food was unthinkable, so you were sheltered and provided with ample treats that you could nibble from the palm of her hand if that were what you wished. Anything to keep you happy and content.
Like a little trinket, she cradled you for as many years as it took you to grow, and once you were at an age where you no longer needed to be cradled, she made you her loyal companion, or so you had believed. You thought her affection for you was unwavering. She was the only mother you had ever known; she is the only mother you will remember for all eternity.
Although it may have been an exaggeration, watching the sun's gradual descent below the horizon, you could almost believe eternity would quickly prove to be a very real concept. You watch the sky darken in silence for a time. You roam aimlessly around the city, your presence still striking unease in the people from the threatening demeanour you learned to conduct yourself with as a Harbinger, even without your official attire. The only remnant of your former self is a helmet you consistently wore during every public appearance strapped to your hip.
You can't help your wandering mind. Did your imitation of the Tsaritsa's actions make you weak? Attempting to nurture someone in the same manner she nurtured you? You are not a god, only the former child of one. Maybe you cannot care for him and maintain your objectivity. He may have become your Achilles' heel, as you were forewarned when the Tsaritsa less than subtly suggested you eliminate him.
You cannot live like this.
No matter how many suns you watch set, you will never come to terms with living like this. The world you once knew, which revolved around a singular governing entity and individual, has disappeared without a trace. Without a central axis to anchor it in place, your world spirals chaotically out of control, with each passing second feeling more frenzied than the last.
This purposeless existence where you have no one to create meaning for you feels just as endless as your high on the rush of power once did.
Your head is too muddled, your brain too overwhelmed by your emotions to think objectively of the faults in your time as a Harbinger. Years of your life have been spent that way, burying your thoughts beneath a heavy weight of despair. Your life is over. Even as the woodlands are forced to welcome you, they mark the end of everything, embracing you in what could be your death, as you imagine it is meant to.
The conclusion of those years greets you with nothing but a cold, detached farewell you never expected. The years you spent dutifully carrying out your mother's will should've been concluded by a grand celebration or momentous occasion to mark the end. This is not how these things are supposed to go, but you can't say it's never happened before. Usually, you'd just kill Harbingers your mother no longer approved of. You might have the better side of things, even if your career is at the worst possible end.
You almost want to call those years wasted, but that would be wrong. Without the Tsaritsa, you might've— no, would've died during the Archon War. Perhaps another god would take you in, but it is unlikely that they would have exhibited the same level of compassion and generosity as the Tsaritsa. They would not have coddled you into comfort the way she did. Then again, what if that had been your downfall? Did she ever genuinely want you to stay? Based on this…perhaps you took her kindness for granted and overstayed your welcome.
You had no right to make demands of her in your final moments as her child, acting like a spoiled brat throwing a temper tantrum. But can you be justified? Can the threat to your subordinate's life negate that? Surely a bit, but not entirely, not if her actions were in response to yours.
Oh, even if you begged on your knees, she would not take you back now.
Why had you not done that before?
She must be disappointed that your attitude was born from her compassion, the epitome of her failures. You do not deserve to call her your mother. You took her generosity as a guarantee, thought yourself above her other children solely because you were her first, and believed you were her favourite for no reason besides arrogance.
You have failed the only being in Teyvat willing to show pity toward you.
-
The deepest heart of Snezhnayan forest welcomes you readily with open arms and the gnashing jaws of monsters starving for food. The forest seems to come alive with a vicious hunger for flesh. You have only your vision and bow left to aid your defence as you shrug off part of your armour to delegate it to the ties on your hip that secure your helmet.
Your delusion is gone, and your subordinates are nowhere to be found to assist you. The danger is to be braved alone for the first time in what must be forever. Despite this, marking your way with a trail of bodies is easy. It is just an inconvenience to always be on guard, but you are strangely used to it. Your life has been spent that way. Being on guard is what keeps you alive on long expeditions, at night when your lessers slept under your watch, in the depths of the Abyss where it is the only thing stopping the resilient from dropping like flies.
The cold is numbing as the air hits your face, your fingers almost wholly without a sensation of touch and even a tingle in your toes. Your vision emits warmth like a stone of fire seeping into your bones to chase the chill away. It nearly suffocates your fingers each time you press your hand to it, hoping to glean some heat from it.
You spent many missions that way, tensed and expecting violence at any moment, hardly allowing yourself to sleep, let alone relax. Despite so many things changing, you are just as high-strung as you used to be. It feels like nothing has changed in that respect, but you know everything has. You cannot hear the large crackling bonfire or the pattering of footsteps in the snow as your subordinates come to join you, their laughter and chatter and their whispers to each other.
While everything falls apart around you, you freeze as if that is the only thing keeping you together, even knowing that nothing will remain once you finally let go. Breathing is difficult, and so is thinking, but you'd rather not think at all. You want to pretend you'll look across the clearing you wander through and see that creature eagerly waiting, so safe and out of every hand that might harm him.
There is a fragile little balance of land around you that slowly crumbles away piece by piece as it encroaches upon the section that keeps you afloat without regard for where you're supposed to stand when the last of it falls from under your feet. Eventually, you'll have nothing left beneath you.
If there is a time when the only part of what was is yourself, you must protect that no matter what it does to you. You have to maintain the same rigid ways you've always stuck to. Those are the last parts of you made by your mother; those are the last parts of yourself you can trust for as long as you can't trust yourself.
The stark silence is deafening to your ears.
-
On the seventh night, you pass through a village on the outskirts of Snezhnaya, where you first catch wind of the news you had agreed on.
The locals informed you that they had recently halted their work for half a day in honour of your passing, believing that you had been slain in battle, though they are just as unaware as everyone else you've passed that they're talking to the person they believe to be dead. Hearing the story that the Jester spoon-fed the public to explain your disappearance makes it feel a touch more real, the consequences of your obedience stinging in a way you didn't expect. You cannot claim it to be a sick joke when it has had time to reach the smaller villages.
Even when that information would naturally spread like wildfire, the thought that it has come to be known by the nation solidifies the death of Brighella.
In a way, she really is dead.
You're the only one still standing here.
You find what can only be a wayward adventurer not far from the town, engaging a wild boar in combat, brandishing a blade at the beast as it snarls back at him and prepares to rush toward him. He faces it with the heavy hand of experience steadying his grip, ending the boar in a swift movement of his blade that matches the work of his feet to jostle him out of its path.
"Good morning," you greet him after a moment, arms folding over your chest as you watch him poke at the boar with the tip of his sword. "Strike it through the back of its neck. It'll die quickly."
"And painfully," he scoffs back, yet his foot steadies the boar nonetheless, and it is out of its misery by the final stab.
You break away from the spot that had glued you to the ground, approaching the man and his kill to assess the job as if on instinct. "Good work," you tell him without really thinking.
"You think so?" he questions. His eyes focus on you instantly, watching you inspect the boar with a curious gleam. You offer a curt nod. He stares as if waiting to be appraised in precisely the same manner you do a dead animal, weary enough not to sheath his blade. "You really think it's smart to walk around like that?" he asks after a few seconds.
"Why?" you ask, absently poking at the boar. You half expect it will spring back to life and knock the both of you flat on your asses, yet it never does.
He hesitates for the first time since you first saw him, opening his mouth to speak before reconsidering and pressing his lips into a thin line. He catches his breath. "The armour," he begins. "It..."
"It...?" You don't recall ever meeting him before, though it is not uncommon that adventurers know what you look like. You travel so much that it's hardly unusual that people catch glimpses of you, and never forget the Harbinger dressed in the old armour of the guards of Zapolyarny.
It is not unthinkable for a man used to being at odds with Fatui soldiers would recall what might be the most royal pain in his ass.
"A Harbinger was slain," he continues, gaze wandering away. "A Harbinger dressed in armour. I mean, people wear armour all the time, but that set..."
You quirk an eyebrow at such an awkward explanation. It's an accusation he doesn't dare make for its boldness, but he cannot deny it when he considers it for himself. "You recognise it?" you question.
"Something similar. From when Brighella was in Sumeru," he confirms. "I may have been a child, but I recognise it anywhere. Most people have armour custom made to fit them, but yours..."
"Someone else's," you finish for him.
That is technically true regardless. Even as Brighella, the armour was stolen. You vaguely recall the story, but you took it from the stores, assuming it belonged to a guard who no longer had use for it. It should've been the property of a grown man, but you have always accounted for the pinching and awkward proportions. You had to grow into it and didn't grow quite enough.
"You're asking if I killed her," you conclude, though that is an equally bold assumption.
He pauses, weariness in his eyes at the thought, but shakes his head. "That would be a bit presumptuous," he responds. "I just wondered if you really thought it was smart to wander around in armour that looks so much like hers."
"Perhaps not," you admit, swallow your pride to allow that much. "It might be smarter to get some clothes from a market."
"New armour wouldn't hurt," he adds. "You're travelling to...?" he trails off, briefly glancing up as if to seek your appearance for the answer. "Not the heart of Snezhnaya, I hope."
"Fontaine," you answer. "It's the first trail south."
"I'm sure you'll find both of those things there," he says. He offers a slight smile despite the circumstances, an unspoken reliving of the tension you realise lingered on past the point you expected it to.
A part of you knows that he makes that presumptuous assumption. He suspects that you have killed the reigning tyrant but says nothing, perhaps out of relief at the possibility you did. Snezhnaya finds liberation in your slaying. A weight has lifted in your absence that they are not yet allowing themselves to get used to out of fear that you might return. It's as if everyone holds their breath for the news that you resurfaced from the Abyss and were merely lost to a chasm in the world.
You know that news will never come.
Now, the armour that once protected you as a Harbinger will stand as a triumphant emblem of your hard-won victory over Brighella and the end of the Harbinger's tyrannical hold over the land. Even knowing that he is right and it is unwise to wander clad in your old armour, you can't let it go. You are glad it is still yours. Pierro granted it to you, and you didn't care to ask why when it felt as though you were watching your comrades through the eyes of your younger self five hundred years ago. Through danger, you will keep it close, treasuring it always as a tangible reminder of the sacrifices you made to reach this pivotal moment.
You slayed Brighella. You ended the Harbinger's tyranny.
Brighella is dead.
Though there is no truth to it, you take responsibility for the Harbinger's slaying at the first gasp of a wayward adventurer recognising it. You grasp it as your singular piece of this life—your trophy. It is the first fragment of your new self.
If you didn't know better, you would think you were getting a little too far into it and starting to believe it yourself.
-
By the eleventh night, you find yourself situated in an inn, and the nights only carry on from there all the way up to the twenty-second night since your abrupt dismissal and, to the rest of the world, your supposed demise. The sigh of relief finally sounds, if a tad reserved. Snezhnaya collectively agrees that Brighella is dead enough to think they might have escaped her thumb, even if they aren't wholly convinced that she could really be dead.
The whispers that once revolved around Brighella's defeat now shifted to speculations regarding her successor. The question was not necessarily who, but who could possibly? Her brutal reign as a Harbinger had instilled fear in the hearts of all who crossed her path; in the minds of the people, no one else could measure up to her sheer terror-inducing presence.
Nobody knows what happened once they dared to fight Brighella until now. She was the first of the Tsaritsa's children, and she was the most combat-heavy. No one wished to cross her except for the rumoured contender for her throne, who was spoken of in hushed tones, as nobody was eager to have their reverence for whoever was bold enough to reach the wrong ears.
Your achievements find their place amongst the rumours as people say that Brighella's killer stole her armour and wears it as her trophy.
Despite the slew of gossip that its patrons indulge in, you enjoy the quaintness of this bar made and run by travellers who use it like a pitstop to rest and recuperate. It is a home to them, along with adventurers and merchants who benefit from the atmosphere. The people are strangers, often reserved and eager to keep to themselves, but have an immeasurable wealth of information that spills with a few drinks and a group of acquaintances who are, for only one night of pleasure and indulgence, their lifelong friends.
Among those friends buried in your own tankard of cheap ale, you laugh along with their jokes and entertain their questions like a test of your ability to lie and improvise in this tale you're making for yourself. If they have names, you don't know them. Brighella's death was a glorious battle but isolated to the hills where you were alone.
"Brighella was alone, and they were weakened by prior injury. I don't know what caused it." You mix a dash of the speculations in, downplaying your strength as you're unwilling to expose too much of it. "I'm not one to miss an opportunity. When would it arise again?"
One of your new acquaintances scoffs, amused but no less aware of the dangers of doing such a thing. "And make an enemy of the Fatui?" He is a new graduate of the Sumeru Akademiya who's come to make his way through Snezhnaya for a job offer. Reminds you of someone else, minus the graduating.
"They will not miss her." You are quick to answer—too quick, arguably—as it draws a sliver of attention before dipping back under the radar as a product of your confidence. "Her 'head' makes too cute a decoration on my side to pass up stealing it."
"I wouldn't dare say such a thing. Fatuus comes here sometimes." They are the words of a Snezhnayan native raised to worship the Fatui, though he is somewhat disillusioned by their crimes and cruelty, as you've learned many are.
"Let them hear it!" Your laughter is boisterous and unabashed. "They'll see the armour anyway. They probably despise her like everyone else."
Another one of your new friends, a travelling merchant from Fontaine, interjects your ravings to add only a passing comment. It was as she had done all evening, her secrets locked up tight. "She did not make herself likeable."
"She was not meant to be likeable but a fearsome warrior." Again, the Snezhnayan man rebuts the criticism against her as he had been doing all evening.
"You don't have to get so far up her ass, Brighella's not gonna crawl out of her grave and thank you for it."
"You're so vulgar."
You plant your tankard firmly on the table between the four of you, leaning over it to close the distance between you and the man. "I'm not meant to be likeable either."
Forget being only a little too into the role. You're revelling in the freedom of this new identity of yours.
Quick to disperse the tension, your graduate friend changes the topic without a hint of hesitance in his voice. "They left an underling people believe will take their place. It's a surprise to think Brighella had someone who followed them with such…devotion."
It seems they finally figured out who might take Brighella's place in the grand scheme of things, and the rumours say there is only one candidate.
The creature wearing the face of a man she brought home from the Abyss.
"It's strange but not impossible." The merchant from Fontaine again, contributing nothing you weren't all already thinking.
"Could she have had a sentimental side?"
"Who cares if she had a sentimental side?"
"Upset the attention isn't on you anymore?"
Anger crosses your face, but you stifle it as quickly as it appears. You wish their attention was off of you, really. The former you, maybe, but you nonetheless. You want to know about your subordinate. What happened to your second in command? You don't care to hear their speculation as to whether you were or were not particularly emotional with your underlings. You know the answers to all of those questions and more without their guessing games.
"Regardless of the reason, they say the underlying is much easier to swallow than she is, so maybe the position of First Harbinger will change drastically if he takes it."
"Would he really change its purpose if he was so loyal?"
"Unintentionally, perhaps."
Gods, these people are so dull. Just by listening to them, you can tell they know nothing about the ways of the Fatui. Harbingers are not individual job positions with specific parameters. Each role is its own, and they are moulded by the person who assumes them like a character in a play, enchanting and unsettling in a horrific mix of theatrics and violence. It is what they stand for. One does not assume the role and become an actor with a script. They must improvise and act on a whim to the beat of the Tsaritsaʼs drum, their life no longer their own.
They are not whatever these ramblings and poor excuses for speculations make them out to be.
"Terribly misinformed, aren't they?" In your ear is the low voice of the Snezhnayan man holding in his laughter at the two as the scholar and the merchant go back and forth. You watch them with a sharp gaze that almost borders a glare, bored of their squabbles and misconceptions.
You glance to your left, where he has leaned closer to you. You eye the way he tilts in his seat, his hand resting on the table. "Repulsively," you respond curtly.
He has a faint glint of satisfaction in his eye as you seem to have confirmed something. "I thought you might've been from Snezhnaya."
Your eyes narrow at his conclusion, though it is the truth. You don't trust the gleam in his eyes or the way his gaze fixes between you and the helmet secured to your hip. "So what if I am?" you question lowly.
"It was only an observation."
In the background, the main conversation continues, just as clumsy as before you had tuned it out in favour of drinking some more. "Does this mean he will also be named Brighella?"
Straightening back in his seat, the man swiftly interjected their back-and-forth responses to explain to them. "They receive a unique title upon their promotion, and nobody knows what it is until then." A simple enough concept to understand.
"In other words, anything but Brighella."
"It hasn't been long enough to know yet."
"It's strange. Nobody knows his name even now."
That would probably be because you never gave him one.
You considered it in the years you spent with him but couldn't find one you liked. His name was inhuman, not for your ears and not for your tongue, rendering it useless to you and everyone else who would hear it. The night you found him was spent crowded around a bonfire listing off every suggestion you and your subordinates could think of to no avail, as he only sat quietly by your side and said little about any of these choices, finding no familiarity in any of them. That's only natural, you suppose.
You still haven't chosen a name for yourself that isn't Brighella, either. Your old one is well and truly forgotten, with the years eroding your memories. It had been centuries since you had been called anything else. Evidently, picking names is not your forte.
"As far as I've heard, nobody knows what it is."
You find the mention of your subordinate has completely ruined your mood. You are grateful the creature is alive but worried the knowledge you're snooping around to find out when he will be promoted could land you in trouble. It's troubling enough to wonder if he has heard your tales through the grapevine about how you had supposedly 'killed' Brighella—his mistress and mentor—which he would not be happy about.
Though you did not fear the creature before, now that you've personally trained him to understand human combat, you're not so sure you'd want to fight him. It would be a hassle. Unlike many, you do not fear the inhumanity of the Doctor or the stone wall called the Jester. Even the cunning Damselette struggles to do more than unsettle you, but you respect that creature's raw strength and understand that no matter what you do, it doesn't matter. You are confined to a human form, and he is not.
You lied when he said he wouldn't recognise you, however. You don't actually know if he would.
You don't know the extent to which his eyes can pick out the details in your appearance that aren't physical. Had he memorised your relative build? Your height? The way you carry yourself and your mannerisms? The thought unnerves you, but so does everything else about him.
"I'm turning in for the night," you declare to the table with a knock of your cup as you slam it down.
Without regard for the ongoing conversation, you announce your intentions and abruptly shut down whatever is being said at the time without much care for it. Whatever it is, it isn't important. Your unfinished drink is left behind as you make your way to your quarters.
In retrospect, you understand their eagerness to merely cover up the circumstances of your dismissal. For a Harbinger as feared as Brighella, it is easier to halt work for a mere half-day rather than attempt to contain the resulting fallout of admitting one of their own was inadequate while simultaneously preserving their tenuous hold on power.
You drop to your bed with far too much faith in it and already regret the potent scent of alcohol on your breath that addles your mind and forces you to wander back to your betrayal. There's not much else you can call it.
Even as you try to squeeze your eyes shut and vanish the image from your tired mind, the confusion lingers against your will. You thought you were your mother's lucky charm. You had been so since the Archon War, to your knowledge, but you lost many of your fragile memories to the sands of time. Something changed while you weren't looking, and her gaze shifted from you to her goals.
Nobody won.
Nobody won...
You have always wondered what she met. You thought it was because the people were at a point of unrest you feared they wouldn't return from, but no one is left to remember the old gods now. You are instead struck by the ghost of your own blindness. You had ventured to the Abyss so many times and lived for so many years that you fell out of touch with her in a way. Even as you did everything to preserve her love for you, it disappeared.
It couldn't have happened in an instant.
You just don't know when it started or at what point it ended, both of which gnaw at your mind incessantly like a parasite that threatens to consume you whole. You dwell on what may never be answered in an attempt to understand something that cannot be understood. You have never been good at avoiding the bad habits of chasing ghosts, even if you fooled yourself into believing otherwise.
Each passing day forces you to wonder if it has anything to do with the many people who died under your command or were distorted by the Abyss during your expeditions. You struggle to imagine it has anything to do with anyone but yourself. You thought you were exactly who she wanted you to be, but perhaps you weren't. Whatever the reason, it escapes you.
You pile your armour off and leave it beside the bed with a touch more respect than you've ever had for it; your helmet carefully stands on the nightstand where you hope it does not fall and collapse back into the bed, eager to escape such vision of before.
You have no desire to remember the days when your hands were smaller, and you could barely reach the handles on the palace doors or fit your suit of armour. Those were the days you never once doubted her affection, though you feared she was pulling away. You looked into the eyes of a weathered old man and saw competition where he mourned his fallen nation as he was forced to linger in a world ruled by the very gods that had caused it to crumble.
You never understood his weakness. By then, though small, you had forgotten what it felt like to be an ant on the mountain where gods battled.
#✎ — one of repetition.#✦ — scenarios.#✦ — angst.#arlecchino#arlecchino x reader#arlecchino x female reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x female reader#genshin x female reader
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A Dull Party
Aka Eva/reader gets invited to the russian orgy and tommy gets pegged fic
Tommy x Eva/reader x Tatiana Petrovna
Cw: smut, nudity, unhealthy lifestyles, debauchery, a threesome, male receiving anal, pegging
Mdni/ 🔞
When he confessed to having considered sleeping with May, he should’ve known you wouldn’t just deny him sex until you felt better about it.
Tommy had seen the new lingerie and assumed you’d add salt to the wound by prancing around in it to remind him of your one rule.
If you fuck a whore, I will fuck a man before I leave. You hurt me, I will hurt you worse, Thomas Shelby.
This you had vowed with your hands wrapped around his prick to get your point across.
You promised him the world at a very low price, monogamy.
Easy, he’d been monogamous before. Greta had been the only woman he’d ever been loyal to until he met you.
And until he found himself alone with May lying about his marital status when she assumed he was unmarried, Tommy had never considered betraying you like that.
He hadn’t done it; he’d almost done it before you called telling him Arthur and Michael had been arrested and framed for Billy Kitchen’s murder.
You hadn’t known until you got it out of him when Tatiana Petrovna set her sights on you.
“The Duchess invited me to the orgy you neglected to tell me about, honey.” Your falsely sweet tone tells him he’s going to sleep in a guest room tonight. “Imagine my fucking surprise when I learned it from the Russian twat, dear husband of mine.”
“And have them leer at you and paw at you all night, I’m there for business, not pleasure, Evie.” He responds reminding you he doesn’t share either.
“So, am I, do you think you’re the only one of us involved in this mess?”
It’s not the end of the trouble, it is merely the beginning.
All the jokes die when the Russians demand you undress just as John and Arthur had.
Tommy’s this close to taking the offered vodka and making a poor man’s bomb out of it when she kneels and takes the knives in your garters sensually.
You keep your eyes on him with a wicked red smile as the Duchess continued her show, thinking you have a boring sex life.
The sapphire always looks better nestled between your bare tits, something he knows better than the affluent people here. If they knew the sort of games the two of you play, they’d throw a better party.
“Such beauty, you cannot even tell she gave him two children already.” The duchess caressed you, playing with your nipples and forcing everyone to see how she turned you on with the finesse of a maestro.
“These may stay on for now.” The mad woman reached the too short knickers made entirely with see through tulle and lace. “She won’t need them later, right, Mr. Shelby?”
Temptation in the flesh, so tempting Tommy briefly considers fratricide when his brothers are forced to see what only belongs to him.
They’re only half-joking, he’d told Arthur. This was a test of his commitment to the cause, a fucking cause he knows isn’t worth the money they’re getting.
“Your orgy would have been a failure if I didn’t lose every stitch of clothing, your grace. The last orgy I attended left me in such a state I left with one of my conquest’s underwear.” You answer for him driving the Russians’ attention back to you, you love being naked, a thing he only enjoys when it’s just for him.
Tommy has no idea if you are shitting with him, or you were as crazy as these fuckers are.
Both, your smile says, always both, darling.
You have not seen this sort of debauchery since you hosted a drug and alcohol fueled orgy during the summer solstice of 1918 to celebrate the Xochipilli and Xochiquetzal.
Of course, yours was much more tasteful and none were coerced, underpaid, and mistreated servants. No wonder the Communists were so thorough in their takeover.
The people stare and try to get your attention, but Tommy stakes his claim on you by refusing to let you wander away no matter what Tatiana tries.
“Once you marry a Shelby, you belong to them until you die.” Tommy said and the duchess believes him.
“The more the merrier then.” She said with that mad look in her eyes and allows you to dress again.
You’ve met people like her, drunk on their power and money until they die in a crash of pretty glass and blood on the cobblestone below a high balcony. In fact, you had aspired to be the beautiful and tragic creature dead on the ground.
But now your eyes have opened and the dense fog in your head has cleared.
And now that you’ve arrived at the stronghold with the jewels, you are even less impressed by these parasites with worthless titles.
“Couldn’t trust me to be professional, eh, Shelby? Had to bring your posh wife too?” Alfie is more interesting than the phony jewels they’ll offer.
“Oh, Mr. Solomons, can’t call it a party unless I am here, and I won’t be leaving until I get another Fabergé egg for my collection and have a good fuck in this dull party.” You bare your teeth through your smile, already tasting their fear in the air as they present you with paste instead of stone.
They just had to ask, didn’t they?
“It’s quite dull, much like the jewels, I am afraid. My husband won’t let me fuck anyone but him and now perhaps I shall punish him to be bored with me, dearest Tatiana.” You say lounging in only your tiny drawers and the sapphire now accompanied by a gaudy paste thing they tried to pass off as real.
“Might make an exception to share him with you, if you show me something that will make it worth the new lingerie.” You are resting your naked legs on your husband’s lap as you eye Tatiana, knowing exactly how you will get the night you came here for.
She wants to fuck your husband; all people want to. You don’t share, your selfish and spoiled ways from before the war have never left and you don’t plan to leave them now.
Now you were shown the only good place for an orgy in this old shell of a house.
The private chapel in all its glory.
Nothing gets you wet like mocking the god in whom you do not believe.
“Better?” the unhinged Russian noblewoman says as she shut the door behind the three of you.
And it was.
“Haven’t fucked a woman since ’18, and my dear husband refuses my offer of adding one to the mix, you know. Thinks I might leave him for her if he does.” A lie, Tommy just thinks it’s a test of his loyalty.
“And would you?” Tatiana asks, dark eyes glittering in the candlelight as you take the initiative and show your husband this is a one-time offer only.
One night to give into their fantasies with the Russian twat and leave him in a state where he will be glad you don’t share.
“Women are too wet for me; men are so nice and dry.” You giggle and pull her into a kiss relishing the way your husband looks on to this sordid entertainment.
Been so long since you’ve tasted lipstick and felt the softness of a woman against you. If the night ends better than it began, you might consider letting Tommy add May or even whichever woman crosses his path next have one taste of heaven before you send them to hell.
“Have you ever fucked a man like man fucks a woman, Mrs. Shelby?” the story of the priest in Tsibli forgotten in her need to appear much more interesting than you, who are nothing more than another dime a dozen wife.
Oh, how wrong she is, but you let her interest you as she reaches for a box holding the most beautiful set of dilators, carved to look like the real thing and one even resembled Tommy’s cock.
Even better it came with the harness you’d tried in Mexico, the one that let a woman fuck another with the wooden cock. A thrilling thing, the reversal of power where you are given the position of a man.
Something you have been dying to try out with Tommy after you discovered you were not the first to explore his asshole.
There is a clear no in Tommy’s eyes, but if this business were to go without a hitch, especially now that Tatiana wanted to change things up for the thrill of it, they must go along with it.
“I’ll be gentle, I promise.” You say repeating the words he told you when he convinced you to let him fuck your ass. You had enjoyed it, you were far more adventurous in bed than him, and those few times he wanted to do something different were never disappointing. “You can even fuck her to your heart’s content in exchange for this one little measly gift, my love.”
He nods as if he ever had a chance to say no.
Maybe if you hadn’t opened your wicked mouth the two of you would be pretending erotic asphyxiation was new and exotic. But you had and now you feel your toes curl at just the sight of Tommy fucking Tatiana against the prie-dieu and his most sacred hole exposed to your devilry.
Nothing you’ve done before can ever match up to this, you think as you fuck your husband as he rails the woman no longer speaking English at the merciless pace you’ve set.
A religious experience in every sense of the word.
“We’re never doing this again.” Tommy vows in Romani as you leave the place wearing someone else’s dress and the mink coat Tatiana gave you in exchange for your diamond encrusted knives.
“And we won’t, I promise.” You say knowing you’ll receive a perfect replica of Tommy’s cock and a harness tailored to your measurements once the Duchess leaves for Austria with her cut of the money.
#eva smith shelby#tommy shelby x oc#tommy shelby x wife! reader#tatiana petrovna#thomas shelby x oc#thomas shelby fanfic#evacore#peaky blinders smut
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Being a Cream fan is suffering. The writers aren't hiding that they don't like her. Hello Advanced 2 anyone???
I can imagine.
She's milked for both humor and angst. In most cases, the fact that it's Cream specifically who is suffering/the butt of the joke is the intended takeaway behind the humor or angst.
People try to rationalize such moments as "she's just a child," forgetting that Cream is also her own person and has a personality beyond the expected behavior of children her age. Shunting her into the box of Child(tm) and leaving it at that is like reducing Amy to Girl(tm). Or Shadow to his Black Arms blood. You're not wrong to say those elements factor in, per se, but you are being overreductive by focusing only on those isolated elements of their characters when they're not overall terribly important.
Apologies for the self-indulgence here, but before we proceed to talk about IDW 66 and 67's B-side story, I'd like to bring up Cream's chapter in my visual novel as a counterexample:
youtube
In a nutshell: OaS is a slice-of-life where Sonic goes about a normal Sunday, visiting his friends and helping them through their problems, alongside some funny shenanigans. He spends about half the game spending time with Knuckles, Amy, and Cream, respectively.
Chapter three sees his relationship with Cream evolve from friends to Big Bro-Lil Sis(tm) as he endeavors to look out for her the best he can and listen to her little kid problems. Math is hard. :<
You'll notice in the conversation Sonic and Cream have after they sit down to eat their carnival food - about halfway through the video - that "lol Cream's just a dumb kid" is the exact attitude I was trying to avoid.
On the contrary: I wanted to respect her agency while also emphasizing that her status as a child is something worth respect on its own. Just because her problems may seem trivial from an adult perspective don't mean they aren't real to her, and I hope I've portrayed it so that Sonic gives her the respect she deserves.
The gist behind the chapter's more humorous moments isn't to point and laugh at Cream, but rather make light of the awkwardness of Sonic navigating being a big brother figure.
That's why stuff like Cream spouting waterfalls really rubs me the wrong way. Folks will argue "she's a child" while neglecting the important nuance that it's not typical of Cream to wail like a toddler in the games... As well as the other important nuance that if it had been Games!Cream in IDW!Cream's place, Rough and Tumble would be ground into paste before the roast finished.
The only punchline here is "Isn't it funny how Cream tried so hard to do right by her mother and some bully destroyed her work in an instant? LOL and then Vanilla went mama bear on them." When you drill down to the core of the underlying idea, you'll find it's just... meanspirited. The book is making fun of the fact that Cream is suffering what is, in her eyes, a humiliating failure.
It's not humor generated by Cream's personality, or the mood whiplash incurred by beating up bad guys one moment and tending to the roast the next, or inviting the bad guys to dinner after giving them a thorough ass-whooping, or anything like that.
How much better would it have been if, instead, following the food fight, we cut to Vanilla returning home to find an immaculate dinner table and two very twitchy skunk boys playing maid in fear of the goddess of destruction's wrath? Cream cheerily greets her mother while Rough and Tumble trip over themselves putting Vanilla's groceries away. Meanwhile Cheese and Chocola give them the evil eye. Vanilla is confused as G-merl pulls out her chair for her, but in no position to protest.
Imagine how amusing that could have been! Nope. The book has to point and laugh at Cream in a "ha ha bitch you thought" kind of way. Can't join in on the laugh track if we have any love for Cream ourselves.
To borrow the stans' logic, it's actually pretty fucked-up that you're meant to laugh at a child for crying in such a situation. At best, you're made to feel sorry for her, but given how the scene is framed to be absurd, it's probably a safer bet to say you're intended to laugh.
That's before we remember Cream doesn't sob buckets in the games. It took being kidnapped, taken to Eggman's creepy robot depot and watching Emerl gleefully tear Phi robots apart for her to sniffle quietly.
Sniffle. Not wail like a toddler. Because the games have this thing called "a sense of decorum," you see. xP
People contend that Cream's a pacifist based on her refusal to engage in Battle until Emerl gets hurt (and then they conveniently ignore how she stepped up and kicked some ass; rip), which overlooks the context that she was probably sick of fighting after having been forced to spar against Emerl and Amy to the point of exhaustion.
---
P.S. IDW!Vanilla wishes she was half as scary as OaS!Vanilla. Yeah, I said it xP
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Time to yap since I've been posting abt this without fully elaborating. Little profiles for the siblings here and here
tl;dr I just wanted to do a little swap au where the modded siblings r the normal ones now, but I still wanted to keep the fact they're generally not very good siblings to Sanji (with the exception of Reiju) instead of swapping that dynamic as well.
Reiju's mods never really worked on her, even though they were attempted after birth. The boys all got spared by their mother in the womb at the cost of her dying much earlier than she did in canon, except for Sanji, who came out "right". Quickly it was pretty clear he fulfilled the role of a weapon with flying colors, but his emotional mods left him with very little personality and expressiveness, so he wouldn't be any good for actually running Germa when it came down to that.
So, suddenly the failures are deemed necessary. Judge can't get rid of them, even in a way that helps him save face.
It doesn't stop him from reminding them that they're failures that couldn't hope to live up to his expectations, and it also doesn't stop him from trying to "fix" them, even though it hasn't worked. Even though they're royalty, there's an air about them because of how their father talks about them. None of the staff are ever gonna dare treat them poorly but you can tell there's a neon sign over their heads calling them all disappointments. They end up split up as well so there's less solidarity or space to find comfort in each other between them. Niji ends up as a scientist, Yonji as a soldier, Ichiji as the crown prince with all the education and responsibility that entails, and Reiju is sort of in limbo, though she acts as an advisor. It is a bit miserable, though even with all this they do still try to find time together.
Sanji at some point gets told to not let any of his siblings come to harm, and it quickly becomes an order he prioritizes much more than Judge could've predicted he would. He is their protector above all else, and they are important.
At some point whilst Judge is trying to modify his siblings again later in life (likely whilst Yonji was getting his arm replaced, I have smth specific in mind but I'm not sure about it so that'll be sorted later!) Sanji comes to perceive Germa as physically harming his siblings, one of the things he isn't supposed to let happen. So he gathers them all together during a quiet time, splits off some of their snail ships, and leaves with them. Effectively, they've all run away.
That's the setup.
They gain a reputation over time on the Grand Line as the ship with the vicious guard dog. They don't fly a jolly roger, but they get into enough scuffles and subsist off of stealing from other pirates enough that they get treated similarly to pirates regardless, even though they're not usually the aggressors. Sanji is just thorough like that.
Months after all of that happens and they're settled down after the initial chaos of finally getting out of Germa (though still on the run and sailing, they're definitely still being looked for), Niji ends up suggesting that they euthanize Sanji. It comes from a place of care, he thinks it's unfair and inhumane that he has to live with no feelings and only really having orders to follow as motivation for things, and this starts a chain of infighting and arguing between all of his siblings.
Yonji agrees, though he doesn't really care for Sanji. He sees him to some degree as a weapon, and one they'd do well to get rid of because he could be used against them when their father rears his ugly head again. Reiju disagrees just on principle, and is kind of mortified that Niji's solution to their brother being different from them is to just end his life. She's retained what her mother tried instilling in her. Ichiji disagrees, but for practical reasons. He also doesn't much care, but he knows they're on the Grand Line, and that Yonji being a good fighter isn't going to get them out of scuffles unscathed the way having Sanji around as their guard dog does. It is kind of hard to argue against that, all things considered, but it's not the sort of argument that's going to keep anything at bay for too long either. It keeps bubbling back up and strains all of their relationships.
Sanji, of course, hears all of this. None of them consult him on the issue or tell him about it directly. He remains loyal to them all anyway. He is still their guard dog.
Things happen from there obviously but I hope to write a fic so that'll be for a later date if I ever get around to it. Hoping I do. I still wanna just put this out here in case I never do get around to it LOL. Feel free to ask questions and such :] I like engaging with people
#binsarte#one piece#one piece au#vinsmoke reiju#vinsmoke ichiji#vinsmoke niji#vinsmoke sanji#vinsmoke yonji#vinswap au
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wot reread: a memory of light (chapters 17-23)
spoilers for a memory of light, the final book.
Mat wakes up to find Fortuona listening to a report from one of her guards, still naked, and when he calls her ‘Tuon’, she chastises him under threat of execution if he does not show ~proper respect~. Interesting. I wonder if he'll actually stop calling her "Tuon" or not.
Part of my brain wants to compare the earlier Rand & Aviendha wake-up scene to this one, so I’m going to poke at that for a moment:
Rand & Aviendha have a pre-sex mock-threat scene where the Maidens teasingly threaten Rand before he and Aviendha sleep together; Mat has to deal with actual potential death from Tuon’s slaves (Selucia almost shooting him; the guards subduing him)
Rand & Aviendha and Mat & Fortuona are two extreme ‘culture clash’ relationships (Perrin and Faile are also a fairly extreme culture clash, but they’ve pretty much worked that out by now)
They’re also both ‘enemies to lovers, destined to be together due to a prophecy’ pairings, except Aviendha and Rand were 'enemies-to-lovers' in the loosest possible sense of "Aviendha has taken against Rand but doesn't really have any reason to hate him" while Mat got his compassion surgically removed in CoT so that he wouldn't judge Tuon for being a slaver.
Aviendha has done her best to teach Rand Aiel ways but seems to accept now that he will always be a wetlander at heart vs Fortuona expecting Mat to flip a switch and be a devoted Seanchan slave citizen and telling him that if he fails to conform, she may have him executed.
idk it’s ~interesting.
Tuon does make it clear that Mat is never going to have sex with her in private -- at least one of her guard-slaves will always be present.
2. Rand shows up -- Mat notes that he is dressed down, comparatively-speaking -- “no gold or jewelry, no weapon at all”.
Tuon, who is terrified of Rand, immediately freaks out, calling for damane to come and protect her. This scene is... *sigh* yeah, idk. It’s weirdly balanced, I guess I’d say. The narrative has done such a thorough job in trying to shield Mat from the truth about what the Seanchan have been doing recently, and from his own failures and the deaths that are on his head (he is complicit both in the attack on the White Tower -- because he let Tuon go back to her people to continue her invasion -- and the attack on Caemlyn -- because his mistrust of Aes Sedai meant he was unwilling to read a letter; and yet the narrative has hidden both of these failures from him completely). So it just feels like Mat’s perspective on the events here is so clouded by his ignorance of recent events. And that just makes it a weird scene.
When Mat gets trussed up by the Power, he first assumes that it’s Rand but when Rand tells him that it isn’t, he realizes that, well, he must be missing his medallion if he’s being held by the One Power, and he immediately looks towards Tuon who, yep, has the medallion. Guess you should have kept your dad's advice in mind and braced yourself for your trading partner to try to steal your horses, Mat.
This is that ironic moment that I was thinking of back in ToM -- Mat had wanted to freely give Tuon a medallion to protect her, but she betrayed him and stole it instead (and he didn’t even know that she knew it existed, so this is a double-betrayal -- Tuon betrayed him and so did Setalle Anan)
But this balance here, where Mat thinks that Rand is trapping him and then realizes that Tuon is the one who betrayed him... this is the first moment that probably couldn’t have existed without the reality-warping teleportation trip that Mat took down to Ebou Dar. But there’s immediate payoff from it, at least not that I can see -- one of the most frustrating things about Tuon’s horrible actions in CoT & KoD were that they never had any effect on Mat’s opinion of her, because he had a five-second memory in those two books, so I'm concerned that this will go the same way. Ah, I will remember this moment and see if it affects anything in the future.
3. Also, Mat should still have one of the copies of the medallion in his bag? He had both his original and one of the copies, per Elayne’s PoV earlier in the book, so even though Tuon stole his medallion, he does have the inferior backup.
I guess this “oh I ran away here to escape you, Rand, specifically because of The Fear” is supposed to be our explanation for why Mat changed his motivations between books? lol, what? That's a throwback to TSR/TFoH Mat except that TSR/TFoH Mat never actually ran away; he just talked about it a lot and then always ended up helping out anyway. So I guess that's where a lot of my frustrations with this reunion come from -- the parts that aren't weirdly competitive still feel... weird. (plus we still have never gotten the 'how' explanation for how Mat is in Ebou Dar -- fear alone does not catapult a person hundreds of miles in a single night)
Anyway, Rand’s reactions here really do make a lot more sense when I think about everything that Thom could have potentially told him -- the essence being “Mat accidentally ta’veren-trapped the Empress of the Seanchan into a marriage with him; maybe that will be useful”. He doesn’t really show any fear or worry for himself or for Mat, despite the potentially dire situation (though, you know, if he’s only shielded by a single damane, he can absolutely break free and... I don’t think damane can link together in a circle because they’re already in a forced-link using the a’dam? Or did my brain make that up? It does make sense though).
4. otoh, Mat just feels like he’s... taking all of this so unseriously? I can understand why he’s not truly worried here that Rand might hurt ~his slaver bride~ (because despite his bluster about Rand going mad, he’s shown instinctive trust in Rand when the going gets rough) but given that Tuon is having Rand shielded and her desperate panic the moment that she saw him and all the guards... he could show a bit of concern for Rand!
But Mat is just a wet noodle during this entire scene and it’s so bizarre. His marriage was so useless on every possible level and it feels absolutely pointless that it happened. And it didn’t have to be that way! The Mat & Tuon relationship could have been written in a way that made the readers really believe that Mat HAD to marry her in order to fulfill his destiny and make it so that the Seanchan would fight against the Dark One during the Last Battle. But as it is... Rand could have just shown up in the palace and done this entire scene without Mat, because Mat contributes absolutely nothing useful to the discussion at any point.
5. So, here’s the thing about Rand and Mat’s reunion as a whole: in isolation, it doesn’t bother me. It’s a relatively shallow conversation but that makes sense given that it’s occurring in the Seanchan stronghold -- Rand consistently does not want to show enemies the depth of his feelings about specific people, and Mat did his best throughout both CoT & KoD to keep the knowledge of his friendship with Rand away from Tuon (it was Talmanes who spilled the beans) because he didn’t trust her with that knowledge (which was, like, the one smart thing he did in the entirely of CoT & KoD, so I gotta give him credit for it), so it makes sense for them to underplay things in front of Tuon -- they are communicating information (hey, did you know I cleansed saidin? hey, did you know I saved Moiraine?) without communicating too many emotions. It’s something of a weird conversation for them, because the Rand and Mat friendship has never been particularly competitive, but it’s... okay. In isolation.
But I have to take into account that this is the only reunion scene that Mat and Rand ever get to have after they separate in Lord of Chaos, and that makes this scene an absolute narrative failure, because it is not enough to do their friendship justice.
And Sanderson was well aware of the importance of reunions... for other relationships. And, specifically, among the three ta’veren boys:
Perrin gets a reunion dinner & a personal goodbye with Mat in ToM.
Perrin gets a reunion dinner & a personal goodbye with Rand in AMoL.
No reunion dinner and personal goodbye for Mat and Rand. Only Perrin gets such things.
All Rand and Mat get is this emotionally-limp dick-measuring contest, despite them spending large chunks of books 1-5 together and their relationship being a foundational emotional element in those five books, even when they are separated. Yet because Sanderson decided to yeet Mat down to Ebou Dar (despite it making no logistical or narrative sense for that to happen), this one meeting is all they get. And that just... sucks. Even back during the first time I read the books, when I did not yet ship Cauthor, I was so deeply disappointed by this reunion. It is such a betrayal of the complicated relationship between Rand and Mat.
Mat has spent every book since he and Rand have been separated having ‘return to Rand’ be his goal in some way or another, and that just gets wiped away between ToM & AMoL.
6. idk. Mat does... sorta try to contribute -- he offers to talk to Tuon on Rand’s behalf (”I’ll get us out of this”) -- but there’s also some real wtf thoughts going on in his brain. Like when Tuon threatens to take Rand back over the ocean to enslave him as her personal Dragon, Mat thinks “she made a good Empress”. lol, she’s literally just making the exact same threat that Elaida tries to get her embassy to carry out on her behalf back in LoC. Was Elaida also good Empress material, Mat? I mean, maybe this version of Mat also would have praised Elaida for the Box, who knows. Maybe post-canon, he’ll free Elaida and fall head-over-heels in love with her now that he’s attracted to petty tyrants who like to throw tantrums. Elaida won’t be interested back, but that could be a good learning experience for him.
On a more serious note, I think this is the beginning of some incredibly bizarre Seanchan-native style thoughts spawning spontaneously in Mat’s brain. It gets real weird at points, from what I remember (we'll see if my memory was correct!).
7. It is so bizarre that Rand does this huge display of power but then he... essentially rolls over for the Seanchan and lets them join the alliance against the Dark One without them needing to give up anything. His first offer is pretty much the rock-bottom “if worst comes to worst” terms that the Merrilor council was willing to give. That’s horrible negotiating! Always start high, Rand! Start off with “release all your slaves and go back over the ocean” and bargain down from there, rather than bargaining down from “you can keep the lands that you have now”. She's intimidated by you! Press your advantage!
Though I really do think that a lot of flaws in this scene stem from having Mat desert the Last Battle and run to Ebou Dar. Because Mat is treating this situation like his parents are getting a nasty divorce and he's trying to get them to kiss and make up rather than the situation being his aggressive/fear-based slaver wife wanting to kidnap and enslave millions of people versus the person who literally is going to save the world. You can't 'both sides are valid' a situation like that.
There is no ‘both sides’ when one of the sides does not respect the humanity of the other side. That’s as true when it comes to the Seanchan as it is when it comes to the Dark One wanting to destroy the universe. Slavery is violence.
8. I will note that Mat is throwing ‘Tuon’ around a lot in this conversation, so he has not yet taken on-board her threat about having him executed.
Rand does try to bargain for the freedom of the damane -- Tuon says no deal if she doesn’t get to keep her slaves. Keeping her slaves matters more to her than preventing the ending of the world. I thought Perrin was bad because he was willing to let the world burn if it meant saving Faile, but Tuon would let the world burn before she would let a single slave slip through her fingers.
Ugh, honestly, comparing her to Elaida does Elaida such a disservice. Tuon is a much worse person than Elaida ever was.
And Mat says nothing to try to sway her. He spoke to her when it came to trusting Rand with the Last Battle (and that one quote, “you can trust Rand al’Thor with the world itself” is a nice one), but he has nothing to say about her expressed desire to enslave every woman who can channel. Which includes his sister. Which includes Elayne and Nynaeve and Egwene. Which includes Moiraine, who he literally just saved from a different kind of captivity.
Nothing to say on their behalf, Mat?
Nothing.
I will remember that in the future. That when you had the chance to say something to try to sway Tuon on the subject of slavery, you stayed silent.
9. I am going to note something very important here, and then explain why it’s important under some spoiler space for the ending of the book. Part of the bargain that Tuon agrees to (and then signs her name to) is this: “Taking any [damane] afterward [meaning after the Last Battle] who are not in your own land will be seen as breaking the treaty and attacking the other nations.” *
And non-spoilerly side note: yeah, apparently this deal does mean that crossing the border into Seanchan territory means that they can hunt you down and enslave you without penalty. Yikes. Hope you weren’t planning on ever seeing your sister Bode again, Mat, because she can’t come visit you (lol, not as if she’d want to, I suppose).
10. So, overall... the bargain that Sanderson made, where he violated both logic and the narrative itself to ship Mat off to Ebou Dar... I do not understand why he thought it was worth it. Again, this scene with Rand, Mat, and the slaver empress isn’t complete trash -- there are some good moments in it -- but actually having Mat finishing out his narrative arcs in Merrilor/Caemlyn would have been so much better. And most of this scene still could have played out similarly if Mat had come here on purpose.
I think probably the worst part of this scene is Mat obediently trailing after Tuon when she leaves. Ugh, it’s so frustrating that Mat ended up being the General of the Slavers rather than the General of the Light -- that he comes to the Last Battle as Tuon’s slave-husband rather than someone who is actually invested in the fight in his own right. He ran away from the battle but now is willing to fight that same battle on behalf of the slavers? Yikes, what an ugly message. There’s a lot of Unfortunate in those Implications. When it was just the Westlands facing the Last Battle, Mat ran like a coward but now that the SLAVERS are involved, Mat will without hesitation dedicate himself to saving the world again? Yikes, yikes, yikes.
But the stupidest part of this is that Mat had already accepted, for books!, that he would need to be at Rand’s side during the Last Battle. He has spent books trying to get back to Rand to give him additional resources for the Last Battle. But now he’s apparently only willing to risk his neck if his wife-owner is involved. I mean, I guess this has to be why the story got changed and Mat teleported to Ebou Dar -- so that Mat would be part of the Seanchan Contribution to the Last Battle rather than being there because “it’s what had to be done” aka the right thing to do aka his previously established character motivations that were in play as recently as the final chapter of Towers of Midnight.
So, yeah, the portion of Mat’s characterization re: Tuon specifically is not awful but, holy shit, everything related to his relationships to every non-Seanchan character got shredded to an unrecognizable mess. I am really hoping that gets better in future chapters but... yeah, yikes.
11. Like Perrin and Elayne, Gawyn has also been fighting for a week as of right now. So a week has passed in the Caemlyn area and the staging area near Shayol Ghul but only a handful of hours passed between when Perrin said Mat was in Ebou Dar (before the fighting began) and when Rand went to visit Mat.
12. As a whole, I'm good with a lot of what Sanderson has been writing in AMoL! But there are definitely a few big issues have been sticking out:
everything with Mat is a logistical nightmare, even if you discount the awful impact it had on his characterization
everyone Just Knows about Rand's three girlfriends now, without ever reacting to the information
which I guess also falls under the banner of: important character moments keep getting skipped
Rand and Elayne avoiding each other at the start of this book is a weird mirror to how Rand and Aviendha were avoiding each other in TGS, aka it doesn't really make sense why they would do that
13. Anyway, I suspect that my posts are going to be able to cover more chapters now, because I never really have a lot to say about battle scenes and we just started this chapter off with one, and I suspect there will be many more in the future. But we'll see!
14. Gawyn makes sure that Egwene is getting enough sleep and not overusing the Power and he realizes that he no longer has any anger when he thinks about Rand al'Thor. Good for him! On both counts. It won't help anyone if Egwene exhausts herself. That being said, I went "yikes" at hearing that Gawyn is barely sleeping and Egwene is "washing away" his exhaustion because I feel like Moiraine says in the first book that that doesn't actually fix your exhaustion, it just masks it and lets you work through it. Let me check.
Oh, boy, yeah, I'm sorta right (It's Lan and not Moiraine who tells them, and specifically he is telling Mat, Rand, and Perrin about it while Egwene is off with Moiraine doing something else):
"They will run at their fastest, if we let them, right up to the second they drop dead from exhaustion they never even felt."
15. Leilwin née Egeanin has some nerve trying to argue with Gawyn that Egwene shouldn't hold the crimes of the Seanchan as a whole against her as an individual when she has owned a damane herself!
"I did not" - yes, you did! Egwene cares about more than just her own skin, so it would matter to her that you de-personed other people and not just if it was herself. I'm glad that you came around and decided to start treating channelers like people but this is absolutely a crime that you own. You owned damane, even after you met Elayne & Nynaeve and saw that marath'damane were not the monsters that your government tries to teach you that they are. You went back to your people and accepted becoming a member of the Blood, giving up an artifact that you had agreed to dispose of (where was your honor then, when your own skin was on the line?), and only left the Seanchan when you realized that one of the Seekers was on your trail and it was only a matter of time before you were discovered anyway. Saving her own skin has been Leilwin née Egeanin's priority for the vast majority of the time that we, the readers, have known her as a character. Not her honor.
I do like Leilwin née Egeanin as a character -- she's the most fully-realized and complex Seanchan character that we've met, I would say. But, yeah, she owns this crime and Egwene is fully in her right to hold it against her.
16. Mmm, we get a reminder here that the Bloodknife ter'angreal are personally handed out by the Empress. More interesting to me is that Leilwin née Egeanin is able to cut off her instinctive "may she live forever" after mentioning the Empress half-way through the words. Gawyn learns here that it is blood that activates the rings, but he convinces himself that he won't need to use them -- he can protect Egwene as a Warder. And she's winning her portion of the battle, so things are going well for them.
17. Rand is remembering seeing Trollocs for the first time, back in the Age of Legends, when they only knew them as "Aginor's experiments". Yeah, that had to be so mind-blowing (in a bad way), the first time that they were seen. Have I mentioned recently that I do really like that we're back in Rand's head for this book? Cutting us off from Rand's PoV was the biggest mis-step of ToM, imo.
After fighting on behalf of Elayne's armies wearing the face of Jur Grady, so that the Forsaken do not know that he's there, he reveals himself briefly with his own face and power level to give a morale boost to the troops, then returns to Merrilor, where Min is waiting to immediately clamp onto his arm.
18. Though Min has been a silent presence in some of the Rand chapters of the book, this is the first time she actually speaks in this book. Page 353 in the hardcover version. "You look sad."
lol, yeah, Sanderson 100% had no clue how to balance the Rand x Min relationship with the Rand x Elayne x Aviendha relationship, to the point that Min had to become a background element for the chapters during which Sanderson focused on Rand & Aviendha and Rand & Elayne.
19. Rand thinks here that he would have fallen "for sure" if Min hadn't been there during those "months of darkness". Bro. Bro. You did fall. That was a thing that absolutely happened on the page. We literally watched it. It was a whole plot point. You almost destroyed time and the universe because of how dark and cold your interior world had gotten, and it wasn't Min who stopped you from doing it; it was reaching inside yourself and finding hope. All of that was literally on the page.
But giving Min credit for things she never did or that never happened is pretty much the main pattern when it comes to Min, so I guess... here's another one of those moments, lol.
20. So, I think I'm parsing the grammar of this correctly and Cadsuane is saying that both Aviendha and Min got jewelry, yes?
"A sword for your father, a ter'angreal for the Queen of Andor, a crown for Lan Mandragoran, jewelry for the Aiel girl, and for this one." She nodded at Min.
Also, wow, "jewelry for the Aiel girl" -- Cadsuane did not even bother getting Aviendha's name. I wonder if she was pissed off when she realized that the horse that she was betting on to influence Rand for her (Min) wasn't the only voice in his ear.
Anyway, Rand is annoyed because she calls him out -- in front of Min -- in basically giving away sentimental "in case I die" gifts.
21. So... Aviendha and Min are both here at Rand's main camp, but there's zero implication that they are getting to know each other the way that Aviendha wanted them to (and like they had the chance to do in TGS, but both of them avoided each other instead).
Stop skipping important emotional moments!
Also, I kind of have to laugh that... Min was apparently here the whole time, but Perrin didn't think to mention her when he was having his big goodbye scene with Rand. Aren't you two supposed to be friends?
22. Cadsuane insults Elayne to try to get a rise out of Rand but he refuses to respond to the bait. Yeah, between "the Aiel girl" and now insulting Elayne, I think Cadsuane was ticked off when the memo went out that the Dragon has three girlfriends and the trump card that she'd thought she'd held by cultivating Min was not as strong as she believed it to be.
Anyway, she tells Rand here that it's best if he doesn't go into the fight believing absolutely that he's going to die and... okay, I'm going to pop an addition to this thought at the end**.
lol Cadsuane tries to fish for a gift for herself and Rand shuts her down with "I'm giving them to those I care about." I really do find their interactions so funny now that Cadsuane can't successfully bully or bait Rand anymore.
23. Aviendha is going to lead those fighting against the Forsaken who will be popping up once Rand goes into Shayol Ghul. Elayne & Aviendha have both grown into such leaders. 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
Rand also makes sure that Alivia is involved in that portion of the battle.
Cadsuane casually drops the news here that the Black Tower has freed itself -- to go back to my earlier Black Tower thoughts, I feel like this would be so much more impactful if Nynaeve were the one delivering this news because she was the one who helped liberate the Black Tower. Because as far as we've seen, the only thing Nynaeve has done in the last eighteen chapters is give Moiraine a hug. She had the time and the motivation to do the Black Tower plotline.
24. I love this scene with Lan, where he realizes that he has hopes for the future now and he wonders if Rand has any idea that he was part of the reason why Lan started looking beyond his own death. Rand and Nynaeve, tearing down his walls without even realizing what they were doing, just by being themselves.
"Rand al'Thor had begun to crack that shell, and then Nynaeve's love had torn it apart completely."
Wouldn't it be neat if this scene had happened right after Nynaeve had returned to Rand and told him that the Black Tower was no longer under Taim's control?
25. Just like the other captain over in Lan's front of the battle did, Bashere also made a bone-headed mistake in his battle planning here. I do feel like we're probably supposed to be picking up at this point that this is no coincidence and not just the captains being over-tired and not thinking clearly. But right now, Elayne is trusting Bashere because of how much trust Rand placed in him, even when Rand was at his most untrusting.
26. In a TAR visit with Amys, Melaine, and Bair, Egwene is told about a blackness that is showing in cracks between rocks, in the places nearest Shayol Ghul, then after a few moments the blackness fades and leaves behind ordinary cracks. The Wise Ones believe it is the Pattern pulling apart and think that it is due to how much balefire is being used during the battle. Egwene says that it is already forbidden to Aes Sedai to use the weave, but she will remind them, and pass word to their other allies. They also tell her goodbye, as soon Rand will go into Shayol Ghul.
27. When Egwene wakes up, it's to meet with Rand -- not as Amyrlin and Dragon, but as childhood friends. His sentimental gift to Egwene is a hair ribbon which she first takes as him implying that she's a child -- which kinda shows how far beyond the Two Rivers that she's gone, because she knows that's not what a hair ribbon means there.
But it's a sweet moment.
So, if Rand had been allowed to give sentimental gifts to Mat... and Perrin too, I guess. What would they have been? This newest version of Mat doesn't really deserve any gifts, lol, so that one is kinda tough. A geode, maybe, or a thunder egg? Mat used to like to collect little treasures.
I saw someone in the tags a while back talking about how refreshing it was that the friendships between women in the books are so vibrant in contrast to the friendships between men and... I also love how great those friendships are, but it really sucks that Jordan (maybe Sanderson too? it's hard to tell) seemed to believe that married men weren't allowed to have close male friends and were only supposed to confide in their spouse. And that's a part of toxic masculinity, the belief that your girlfriend/wife should be your emotional dumping ground while hanging with the bros stays shallow, competitive, and light. And we really saw that a lot with Rand during the darkest books for him -- Min was his emotional dumping ground, there to receive his trauma and not have any of her own (despite going through several traumatic events).
And that part of what's damaged about how the male characters relate to the world never really gets healed. Women can confide in their friends, but male friendships get hollowed out once the men start getting love interests.
(the books kinda lampshade this when they say that Aiel women adopting each other as first-sisters is much more common than men adopting each other as first-brothers -- so there's this implied idea that married men only relate to each other as co-workers or leader-subordinates)
Oh, yeah, and Rand realizes that the seals that Egwene is holding to wait to break for the Last Battle are actually fakes. I feel like nothing really happens with this plotline so I'm not going to get too invested.
28. Mat allows himself be dressed up as a doll for Tuon’s viewing pleasure. This is that other contrast against Elayne that I mentioned back in the post where I talked about Fortuona being a foil to Elayne -- where Tylin and Fortuona order Mat to wear clothes that please them; Mat requested that Elayne pick out someone to help him get better clothes (that were in the style that he would prefer).
Mat is SO MISERABLE in this scene. Why is he forcing himself through all this? Why didn't he leave with Rand?
He hates that the slaves won't look at him; he hates that he's being dressed up like a Seanchan; he hates the idea that everyone is going to be looking at him like this. He hates everything about this. Why is he doing it? If Mat's marriage to Tuon had been what sealed the deal for the treaty, then Mat pushing through even though he's miserable would make sense, but much like the entirety of this whole fucking relationship, Mat is turning his future into a misery for no apparent reason.
29. Of course, now that Mat has been (abruptly, off the page) cut off from all his other emotional connections except for Tuon, he's been locked in. I really do feel like Jordan (and now Sanderson) failed to give Mat enough of a reason to have *waves hands* all of this make sense. The general vibe is "better to stay in the worst marriage in the world than to have no marriage at all" but that is a bizarre storyline to give to someone who never showed any signs of wanting to be married.
But yeah, having servants/slaves undress him so that he can be dressed according to how his owner wants him to look is exactly what Tylin did. Mat thinks here, I won't be owned, but he's not doing a very good job of actually standing his ground. See, the thing is... if this was how Mat's story was going to end up anyway, I feel like Jordan might as well have just had Tylin sell Mat to Tuon back in Winter's Heart? Because that's where we've ended up anyway -- with Mat realizing that Tylin and Tuon are birds of a feather but... for whatever reason... sticking with her anyway, even though it actively makes him unhappy.
I can't think of any reason to have this scene except to remind us of Tylin? (in-world, I imagine that Tuon is having it done to show all the Westlanders that Mat belongs to her now, not to their side, because... she's extremely possessive and jealous -- and also to reassure her own side that she has thoroughly broken her new outlander mate to be loyal to the Empire)
Mat is able to negotiate slightly -- his clothes don't get burned and they're only making a military outfit for him right now -- but he was able to negotiate slightly with Tylin as well. It kinda feels like that's Mat's lot for the foreseeable future -- his life will mostly be a misery, with tiny patches of him being to negotiate a small bit of breathing room. A tiny bit of false freedom in exchange for his loyalty is probably seen as a bargain by Tuon.
30. Yeah, I'm not very happy with Mat's storyline in this book, at least so far. Which sucks because (except for the first chapter of TGS), I've been liking what Sanderson brought to the table for Mat in TGS & ToM. Especially after the trash-fire that was Mat in CoT & KoD (I genuinely dislike Mat as a character in CoT & KoD and it ruins those two books for me).
But it is an interesting illustration of... what parts of a character matter to different individual readers. Some people were never invested in Mat as someone who genuinely cared about doing the right thing even as he called anyone like that foolish, but it was such a vital part of Mat's characterization for me, all the way through Winter's Heart. And it's just gone in CoT & KoD, and losing that part of Mat makes me no longer like Mat as a character. But for some people... that just wasn't an important part of who Mat was to them, and they could shrug off the loss or not even notice it at all.
I've seen something similar with various posts talking about -- "is Rand still Rand if you remove the toxic masculinity portion of his story?" and various other debates about different aspects of his storyline. For some people, Rand being an exploration of toxic masculinity (by embracing Lan's advice) was a huge part of his character and helped them through their own issues with masculinity. For me, it is not that vital part of who Rand is, and if the show doesn't go that way -- if the list isn't gendered, if the focus isn't on "don't let any WOMEN get hurt or killed", I would welcome that change. But for a person who saw Rand's struggle in their own life, that change would feel like a loss.
So it's sad for me that Mat has been locked-into the Prince of Ravens story, particularly in this version of the story where the way they chose to approach the story was to dampen his empathy for the enslaved and shred his emotional connections to his former friends away as if they meant nothing. The parts of Mat that I cared about the most were the parts that were thrown away by the authors as if they were meaningless. And that sucks.
I've caught glimpses in the Sanderson books, of the Mat that I loved in the series from EotW-WH, but so far this version in AMoL feels like half the character that I cared about, with the other half ripped away.
I miss Mat. And it sucks so much more to think that during actual Mat PoV sections than to think it when Mat is missing or gone.
I miss the guy who cared so much about slavery that he risked his own escape plan to free the Windfinders.
I miss the guy who sat quietly with Rand after Rhuidean, exactly the kind of comfort that Rand needed at the time.
His body is still walking around but the part of Mat that I loved... he's not there. He got in the way of the plot, so the authors elided those parts of him out of existence. But those were the parts that I cared about the most.
Yeah. Just makes me sad.
31. Ah, the surprise Sharan army shows up. Why would they hold back until now? The fighting has been going on for a week+ at this point. Hmm... my Doylist (aka author-based, as opposed to in-world) assumption is that the Sharans are showing up now so that it will actually feel like the Seanchan are needed when they show up, so the timing needed to be placed after the treaty with the Seanchan was signed. A whole random huge nation shows up at the fight with tons of channelers -- better throw a different random huge nation with tons of channelers at them! In-world... idk, probably just Demandred being dramatic. They attack on Egwene's part of the battlefield, so now all the fronts are in a bad way.
32. Aviendha is part of the advance group of scouts into the Blasted Lands (before they reach Shayol Ghul). They see Shayol Ghul and the forges where the Fade's blades are made.
I love her scene here with Rand. Aviendha realizes that she and Rand are more alike that she'd ever noticed before, and they stand next to each other, shoulders just barely touching. "He did not own her, and she did not own him. The act of his movement so that they stood facing in the same direction meant far more to her than any other gesture could."
🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
Aviendha says that taking the Dark One gai'shain would be a greater victory than killing him. I love her. So Aviendha votes here for Rand to imprison TDO rather than try to kill him. Rand says that he'd thought them finally being in a proper-type relationship would mean no more lectures on Aiel culture and Aviendha is just... so baffled. 🥰
So the plan is for Ituralde and the Aiel to hold this area right before Shayol Ghul, to give Rand time to go in and deal with the Dark One.
33. With the scouting done, they go back to Rand's camp to prep the forces for the assault, and Rand tells Aviendha that the dagger has been helping him stay hidden from the Shadow during the fight, just as she thought that it would. This knife really does feel like it symbolizes how connected Rand-Elayne-Aviendha are as a triad. Aviendha finds out what it can do and gives it to Elayne to protect her; Elayne gives it to Rand to protect him. Rand says it's going to make it easier for him to get to TDO before he's noticed. He calls the dagger "Artham".
Also: Rand tells Aviendha about the true seals going missing! Communication! Love to see it. He mentions that apart from the two of them, Egwene is the only one who knows that the true seals are gone.
Ituralde will be in charge of the troops during the Shayol Ghul assault but Aviendha will lead the channelers.
34. ...Min really thought there was a chance that she was going to go with Rand to face the Dark One? All she would be is a liability!
Anyway, okay, Rand actually does specifically send Min to Egwene to "watch the Seanchan Empress" so I'll keep that in mind. I'm not sure exactly what Min is supposed to do if things go poorly but keeping an eye on Tuon is part of the reason she was sent. (technically he sent her there to "keep an eye on both factions" but he knows he can trust Egwene, so the implied reason is Tuon & the Seanchan). How convenient that Rand is sending the Seanchan to the front that just got flattened by the Sharans, even though he thinks Egwene is "doing well". I guess that one we can say is ta'veren stuff.
Also, in this scene before Min gets sent on her way, she does not offer any last insight about Callandor. It's Moiraine and Nynaeve who talk to him about the flaw here.
35. I feel like this whole "Logain has grown darker" plotline could have been cut out. Not needed. Just let him lead the Asha'man into the Last Battle; there's plenty of glory in that.
36. Demandred shows up on the battlefield after the Sharans have flattened the Aes Sedai forces to grab one of them (it's Leane) to try to send her off with a message to Rand: it's personal and you better face me yourself or I will ruin everything you love (essentially). Yeah... your dramatic entrance a week into the Last Battle has kinda ruined your chance at Rand, I'm pretty sure. Because he's heading towards Shayol Ghul very soon. Too slow, ~dragonslayer~. Fancy title and no dragon around for you to slay.
37. Lanfear dunks on Perrin for not being able to kill Graendal (when he discovered her in TAR).
"I found [the inability to kill women] charming in Lews Therin at one point, but that doesn't make it any less a weakness."
Why is Lanfear helping Perrin out? I do not remember her goal here, if we ever find it out. But she basically handed him the dreamspike and now she's telling him that it's dumb for him to let Graendal get away just because she's a woman (Gaul also tells Perrin this: "A warrior who will not strike a Maiden is a warrior who refuses her honor"). She also straight-up tells him that Graendal is here to influence people's dreams. And Perrin saw Graendal messing around in war tents with maps.
... he does not put the pieces together at this point.
38. Okay, we get the low-down on the time dilation (thank you, physics researcher Mierin!) -- Shayol Ghul is what is distorting time. The closer you are to it, the more time distorts. "For every day that passes [to those close to Shayol Ghul], three or four might pass to those more distant."
In other words, this does not fix Mat's logistics problem, where he was able to undertake a weeks-long journey on horseback over the course of a single night in order to reach Ebou Dar around the same time Moiraine and Thom reached Merrilor, but then an entire week passed in Merrilor while only a handful of hours passed for Mat in Ebou Dar. Mat's logistics still do not add up.
Oh, Lanfear also tells Perrin that one of the people Graendal was influencing was his wife's dad, aka Bashere aka one of the generals of the battle.
39. Given what a dire situation Gawyn & Egwene are in, Gawyn takes the opportunity while scouting to slip on one of the Bloodknife rings and activate it. They're pinned down and trapped by the Sharan army so it makes sense that he's desperate enough to do this. They certainly have no clue that they're about to get sent an additional army on their own side.
It means that he can scout directly past the various Sharan sentries who are surrounding them (it is an incredibly dire situation). Not only does it let him travel with the shadows but he also notices that it lets him move faster as well.
Given that he already has the rings and what a terrible situation he and Egwene are currently trapped in, it would be pretty foolish of him not to use the rings at this time, tbh.
But it looks like when Leilwin née Egeanin said that the rings would eventually kill you once you'd activated them, Gawyn interpreted that as 'might'. And I think that makes sense -- Gawyn can understand on an intellectual level how disposable (non-Blood) lives are in the Seanchan Empire without being able to take it in emotionally. It's not intuitive for him, because he doesn't use people up and throw them away the way that the Seanchan do.
40. We get another pretty powerful flashback to Egwene's time with the damane, when she is temporarily captured by one of the Sharans while she is making her escape following Gawyn. It's actually pretty clever -- she deliberately is letting go of her Aes Sedai control so that her panic over the idea of being captured will draw Gawyn back so that he can help her.
But, yeah, having this vivid reminder of of Egwene's time as a captive of the Seanchan... it really does make the choices that Jordan & Sanderson decided to make with Mat's storyline so baffling. Mat genuinely cares about Egwene, about Elayne, about Nynaeve, about Moiraine, presumably he cares about his sister but I guess who knows. And yet Jordan has Mat laugh off the idea of Tuon attacking the White Tower (which she then followed through on and actually did and yet he does not know about it) and act like the sul'dam are more oppressed and in more danger than the actual slaves; and Sanderson has Mat run away from the Last Battle until the slavers are involved and then he's apparently willing to risk his life again. In the name of the slavers. Baffling writing choices all around.
Egwene on thinking what it would be like to be captured by the Seanchan again: "She would be nothing. She would have her very self stripped away. She would rather be dead."
41. But Gawyn is still too far away and it ends up being Leilwin née Egeanin who saves Egwene here. Together the three of them escape the camp, reunite with Bayle, and then Egwene is able to Skim them back to the White Tower.
42. Near Shayol Ghul, Aviendha and the channelers that she's leading clear the valley so that Rand will be able to approach. There's a pretty intense battle scene and then Aviendha takes charge of organizing all the channelers so that they will be able to hold the valley for as long as Rand's task takes him.
43. ...Thom and Moirine apparently also got married off the page? When did they have time? Did Mat perform a quick ceremony before he teleported himself on top of Pips' back and then teleported himself to Ebou Dar?
Hmm, I wonder (should we make it that far) if this will be Siuan being the watcher outside Shayol Ghul instead of Thom? It kinda would make more sense for that person to be a channeler anyway.
44. As they enter, Rand's wound from Ishamael begin bleeding. As per the prophecy. His blood on the rocks of Shayol Ghul. He goes into the cavern holding Callandor and linked with Moiraine and Nynaeve.
spoilers through the epilogue
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(* Tuon’s people are violating the terms of the treaty in the epilogue. They comb the battlefield afterwards and are enslaving any channelers “who are not Aes Sedai”. That’s not the deal she made. The deal was they could not take “any who are not in your own land” and none of the fighting for the Last Battle took place in Seanchan-held lands. As of the epilogue, Tuon is already in violation of the agreement. And the sul’dam who takes Moghedien makes it clear that they’re snapping up any channelers that they suspect “won’t be missed”. There are many channelers among Rand’s allies who are not Aes Sedai -- Asha’man, Wise Ones, the Kin, the Windfinders. So, yeah... Rand isn’t getting his “hundred years of peace” because the Seanchan couldn’t last even a single day post-Last Battle without breaking their word.)
(** So... Rand is lying to Cadsuane and the readers in his scene with her, because he IS making plans to potentially survive the Last Battle -- we know that he has Alivia set up a 'post-death' escape plan for him. So this part is more interesting on reread, because Rand has to walk the line of not giving away to Cadsuane that he does hope to live, because part of his 'post-death' plan is retiring into obscurity. I don't have any issue with Rand lying to Cadsuane here, I just wanted to note it)
It remains so weird to me that Sanderson & Team Jordan decided to go the ‘deserter’ route rather than the ‘negotiator’ route with Mat. I’m honestly scratching my head to try to figure out the narrative benefits of doing things this way. Nothing about Mat’s approach into Ebou Dar requires him to skip Merrilor and abandon his people, and many things would make a great deal more sense if Mat had gone to Merrilor: Mat doesn’t seem to want to be here and yet he’s forcing himself to do it every step of the way, so it would make sense if something was actually driving him to take the actions that he’s taking (guilt over Caemlyn). He still could have easily had sex with Fortuona here if he’d been sent by the Merrilor council, so that’s not why we broke the story to get him here without letting him reconnect with his friends.
What could the motivation be? I am unlikely to ever get the chance to interview Sanderson or Harriet or anyone else on Team Jordan, and no one else appears to have ever asked him about any of this, so I am going to have to speculate.
What are the story effects of having Mat desert Team Light & the Band (off the page)?
It means that anything complicated about the Seanchan gets avoided for the first ten chapters and the focus is entirely on the Westlands' feelings and worries.
Mat's emotional connections appear to have been cut off or muted.
What does it gain to simplify and cut off Mat’s Westlands emotional connections?
Is it a case of ‘writing to the epilogue’? If I recall correctly, Mat doesn’t seem to care at all about his Westlands friends or family in the epilogue, so were his emotional bonds destroyed in-between books so that it wouldn’t be jarring that he doesn’t go to his friend’s funeral or that his only concern post-Last Battle appears to be his own skin and appeasing his owner-wife? But why not write that as part of the text? Why not show us the process of Mat disconnecting from his friends?
Is it another instance of Fortuona’s delicate toddler feelings being coddled (not by other characters but by the narrative itself)? If Mat comes to her still having other loyalties, then she definitely would be upset and would probably throw a tantrum, as we’ve seen from her before (she gets pretty close as it is). One of the largest annoyances of how Jordan (& now Sanderson) has written the story around Fortuona is feeling like the narrative itself is tiptoeing around her and bowing to her and trying to kiss her feet (if the narrative played fair with Fortuona & the Seanchan, they would be a lot scarier and a lot less annoying -- like they were all the way through Winter’s Heart, in fact, because Crossroads of Twilight is really when the narrative really started pulling its punches with the Seanchan).
For whatever reason, it remains such a baffling choice. Because all of Mat’s complex (and often ugly) feelings about his marriage and the Seanchan are still there, bubbling under the surface and poking out from time to time, but the heart of his character -- his relationship with any character other than Fortuona -- got strangled off-screen. Such a strange choice.
I do think that it’s likely that the show will do much better with this relationship, if they do decide to commit to it, because the bones of what Mat & Fortuona could have been are really fascinating. But wow, the execution just shits all over any of the better possibilities. What a waste of potential.
#wot#wheel of time#wot reread#wot book spoilers#wot spoilers#wot amol spoilers#wot a memory of light spoilers#mat cauthon#rand al'thor#seanchan warning#egwene al'vere
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"How'd you find out about being a demigod?"
Will frowns "Didn't I already tell you? You know...in. When. Uhm-"
Nico laughs, releasing Will from his misery - a rather merciful move for a child of the underworld. Will is so obviously working on being more open; efforts that are as adorable as they are painful and never fail to make Nico feel all disgustingly gooey. Will is struggling but he is trying. Because Nico asked. All his life he has taught himself to only take care of others, his every instinct begging to downplay and soothe and ignore instead of confront and acknowledge or - gods forbid - admit it out loud. But Will is never one to do things by halves; never would've been able to wrestle so many demigods from the unforgiving grips of death, otherwise; and definitely wouldn't have followed Nico into literal Tartarus. So he does it anyways. Even if he refuses to give himself the same forgiveness and grace he extends to his patients.
Will may never believe it when he tells him that he is one of the strongest demigods in Camp, but Nico means it. So what if Will isn't the strongest fighter? He doubts Clarisse could ever be so openly vulnurable without having an aneurysm or giving into the urge to stab herself with her spear. Besides, it's not like he has to be. That's what Nico is here for, after all.
"You told me that Stymphalian Birds were involved. And that there was a turd in the subway. Not exactly a very thorough account" And then, because Will is still used to thinking in black and white and extremes and has the stupid tendency to take everything as a personal failure: "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I won't be mad."
(Will is working on that, too. "I feel like this is different. From my other friendships." he'd said. "Bad different or good different?" "Good." Nico nodded, because he felt it, too. "I don't think I'm in love with you" he'd answered then, because that was probably the truth as well.
So they kissed, because they both liked it; and they cuddled, because they both needed it; and they went on dates, because dates were fun; and they were obnoxiously affectionate when it was just them and Will's siblings, because their reactions were always hilarious; and they both made an effort, because it was worth it.
And Will, who had always needed words and files and terms and diagnostics couldn't explain it in a way that made sense. Whatever they had, it wasn't black or white. Sometimes it felt like it was on a completely different color spectrum, as even shades of gray didn't seem to quite cover it. But he was learning that that was okay, too. It was good, even. Not good enough, just good.)
So this is their dynamic now: Nico trying to get Will out of his shell without being too overbearing while Will (that son of a bitch) is a stubborn asshole about it. Sometimes, when Nico needs to go and take a walk before he either strangles the son of Apollo or says something he doesn't mean, he wonders how Will could've ever fallen for him. Nico is all too aware that he was probably even worse in the beginning - sometimes the guilt of it eats him alive, now that he is on the receiving end of it. But then there are moments like these, and Nico thinks he almost gets it.
No, the irony is not lost on him. And Kayla sure finds it absolutely hilarious, all "and so the giver finally becomes the receiver" and "a taste of your own medicine, mister doctor". Still, it's all too easy to slip back into their old roles. Will's position as head medic certainly doesn't help: Nico has lost count of how many times he's seriously considered threatening the entire camp to just not get hurt for one day that really can't be that fucking hard before realizing that promising serious bodily harm would be rather counter-productive in this scenario. He would be a huge hypocrite if he said that he wasn't part of the problem, too. It's all too tempting to blame his own less-than-stellar moments on everyone around him and hide behind his person to escape the consequences. But they know that they need to learn to open up and rely on themselves and each other if they want this (whatever that is) to work, so they keep trying.
Will nods. "No". Then he frowns, shaking his head. "No, I mean. Yeah. Sure. I guess I'm just curious why you're asking"
Nico shrugs, raising a brow. Because it's you, he doesn't say, because Will isn't the only one who has trouble saying the important things out loud. Besides, judging by his flaming cheeks, the message was received anyway.
And there really isn't much more to it. Of course he knows that most stories are rather traumatic, which is why he doesn't feel comfortable asking the other campers about it. He is somewhat aware of some of the arrivals - mainly from bragging Ares children, but he doesn't trust those as far as he can throw them. He has heard Sherman changing his story at least three times; the number of monsters chasing him magically multiplicating every time he recounts it. Either that, or they are Percy Jackson, which is its own category entirely.
Still, he can't help but feel that losing over half a century in a time-stopping casino is on a bit of a different level. Even for Percy Jackson standards. He is just so incredibly curious about what an average demigod experience is like. A curiosity that only grows as he becomes more and more aware of how his own life is definitely not that.
Will is always his go-to on that front. He never judges or laughs at Nico for asking questions, no matter how odd or stupid. It also makes it incredibly easy to mess with him, especially now that they are working extra hard on open communication and all that shit. Nico practices constraint, though. Mostly.
"Okay, so. This actually happened a few years before New York." Will's voice gets that nostalgic tone that always appears whenever he talks about his life before Camp. He's relaxed, now, all loose-limbed compared to the beginning of their conversation. Nico leans against him, own body relaxing in response. "I get these headaches sometimes, you know. Never figured out why. Ibu never worked. But one time I took Paracetamol and it just. Stopped."
Nico nods encouragingly. Will looks at him expectantly. It takes Nico a moment to realize that... that was the story. He straightens (ha, as if) up again. "Wait, that's it?" Maybe he should reassess his whole 'Will's life as the blueprint average demigod experience'-thing.
"Well, yeah." Will looks irritated, glaring at Nico and the shoulder he'd been leaning on. "Prick", Nico mutters, nontheless going back to their previous position. Will flicks at his nose in response. He doesn't have to look at Will to know he's wearing one of his stupidly triumphant smirks. "I was curious as to why paracetamol worked where ibuprofen had failed me so many times before. And do you know what I found?"
"A forgotten ancient myth about how Paracetamol was created by your dad?" Will flicks Nico's nose. Again. He can admit that it was probably deserved, though.
"No, stupid. I found out that we don't know how Paracetamol works. Isn't that insane? We take the pill. The pill works. BUT WE DON'T KNOW HOW IT DOES ITS THING!" He has a manic glint in his eyes that speaks of many sleepless nights devoted to exactly this question.
"So....you immediately went from that to greek gods are real? Just like that?"
"Obviously." Nico glares. Will has the nerve to smile at him. Fucking prick. As much as he complains about how impossible it is to know whether Nico is being sarcastic or serious, Will is infinitely worse. Especially because most people don't know to expect it.
Nico punches him, because sometimes fists speak louder than words, and Will just laughs. Nico moves away before he can get his nose flicked for a third time. It almost makes him miss the times people were still scared of him (that's a lie.)
"Okay, no." Will is still laughing, as if he hadn't just survived a blow by the Ghost King himself. Idiot. "But when Maron explained about gods and monsters and all that mess I remembered paracetamol and thought: yeah, that makes sense. Like, of course it's magic. You know?"
Nico just shakes his head fondly, once again stuck somewhere between amusement, endearment and just plain confusion. "Sure. Of course."
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Hello! New ish follower here with a curious ‘what if question’: what if Edward was training Jenny to be an assassin?
So you think she’d fully commit to becoming one after his death/ her abduction? (I’d love her to meet Anne again ahh 😭)
Hello! Welcome! Sorry for the delay (said in the tone of an old woman who suddenly has visitors) :)
First of all, let’s talk about why Edward wouldn’t want Jenny to become an Assassin and wanted her to get married to someone he considered ‘financially stable’.
Edward isn’t the type of person to be swayed by what was considered to be the norm during his time so I like to believe there’s a deeper reasoning to why he was so adamant of stopping Jenny.
The whole “I want my children to be safe” can’t really be the reason because he was training Haytham to be an Assassin when he was young.
Because of this, my headcanon is that Edward fears Jenny’s death and that’s what stopping him from understanding just how deeply Jenny wishes to be an Assassin.
Although he tries to not favor any of his children, Jenny reminds him of his failures as a husband and a father. The dress Jenny wears in the epilogue of Black Flag is very similar to her late mother’s dress so there’s a possibility that she inherited her mother’s taste of dresses (or maybe she actually picks dresses that reminds her of her late mother).
This only serves to remind Edward of Caroline and the growing fear of losing Jenny as well to a similar sickness that could have been cured had it been treated.
Had Caroline had the money needed for the treatment.
And then…
She started showing interest in being an Assassin.
He sees the growing anger in her eyes as she sees him training Haytham instead of her when Haytham doesn’t even know what all of this training was for.
He sees her and he sees someone he lost in her as well.
He sees an Assassin he cared for and lost.
He sees Mary Read.
The more he tries to push her away from her desires to be an Assassin, the more he tries to keep her safe, the angrier she becomes.
The more she becomes jealous of Haytham.
And so…
We need a change.
Something that would snap Edward from his haze of grief and guilt.
Someone who can tell him how he’s seeing his daughter but not seeing her at the same time.
And that person?
Is Anne Bonny.
For this to work, we need Anne to remain with the Brotherhood and it is hinted on that she became an Assassin in Assassin’s Creed Memories’ card of her having her brandish a Hidden Blade (I kinda hc that it’s Mary’s Hidden Blade) so we can have Anne paying a visit to an old friend of hers, just a simple social call. Tessa is suspicious though since she’s a beautiful woman that, as far as she knows, is unattached.
She has a husband though and her own children are training to be Assassins.
That’s why she can see the anger and jealousy in Jenny’s eyes.
And she can also see the guilt and grief in Edward’s eyes.
So she mediates for the both of them.
It takes a while for her to get the two stubborn Kenway and Scott to meet at the middle.
But in reality, it’s more of Jenny getting more of the upper hand because, not only did she get what she wanted (to be trained as an Assassin) but also a bonus (her father stops trying to get her engaged).
Anne left soon after, knowing her inclusion to the start of Jenny’s training would simply lessen Edward’s authority and recruits need to fully trust their instructor.
But she did promise to visit more often to keep an eye on Edward.
Why Edward?
Because she has to make sure Edward doesn’t slip back to those dark thoughts again (she says this playfully but she’s actually quite worried).
That following morning…
Haytham is surprised to see his older sister joining them.
But she just glared at him so he kept quiet.
And so…
Edward starts training Haytham and Jenny together.
.
Unorganized Notes:
Haytham started learning swordfighting at 6 so that’s around 1713 with Jenny being 18.
Jenny’s inclusion makes Haythan’s training more… thorough. While he does need to focus on increasing his stamina, he tends to try out the freerunning techniques that Jenny is taught while he’s doing his own training because they look ‘fun’ and also he’s a bit peeved that Jenny gets to be taught those while he’s been ordered to just… run.
There’s a bit of rivalry going on here. Haytham is more of a prodigy and some of it can be attributed to Tessa’s genes as he does need to be ‘better’ than most to pass on the Auditore-Kenway genes to Ratonhnhaké:ton (and to Desmond). Because of this, Jenny works harder than the two of them to simply catch up, not realizing that catching up to Haytham means being better than most recruits her age.
Jenny gets the title of the ‘Wild Kenway Girl’ because of this though but she just ignores this. This worries Tessa, mainly because she’s worried no one would marry Jenny and that is a bleak future for a woman as far as Tessa can see. Jenny just shrugs it off and jokes that Haytham would take care of his undesirable sister when she’s old and wrinkly. Haytham takes this seriously much to his parents’ amusement and Jenny’s groaning.
By the time Birch makes his move, Jenny would have already been inducted as an Assassin (22), perhaps a novice or a rank higher.
Since you specify Edward’s death, that means that we’re not saving Edward in this one XD
So we’re left with two main ideas after Edward’s death:
(1) Jenny is captured and, by the time she escaped (with Anne and her children’s help), Haytham had been taken by Birch and has been inducted to the Templar Order, leading us to the Kenway-Scott Abel and Cain setup. In this one, Jenny would be hunting down Haytham and no one is sure if she’s hunting him to try and reason with him or to kill her because he’s a ‘stain’ in the Kenway name. In this one, Jenny would end up being Ratonhnhaké:ton’s secondary mentor who doesn’t always agree with Achilles.
(2) Jenny is able to fend off her attackers and protect Haytham but fails in protecting their father. In this one, Jenny stays with the Kenways and takes over the household after Tessa has a breakdown (calling her and Haytham monsters). Birch is gone in the wind because he knows the Assassins know he’s a Templar and Jenny takes over training Haytham as well. In this one, Haytham becomes an Assassin who has a vendetta over Templars and hunting down Birch (who would now be the one to go to the colonies which will lead to Haytham and Kaniehtí:io meeting because… no matter how much is changed from what is meant to be… the Calculations will always find a way to ensure the birth of Desmond Miles will come to pass)
#sidebar i don’t think we have actual confirmation that she actually met anne bonny?#anne stayed in the mansion while edward meets with her in the docks#but i can totally see her staying in great inagua for a few days while the both resupplies#during that time she could have met anne#that would be the logical thing to do lol#assassin's creed#teecup writes/has a plot#fic idea: assassin's creed#ask and answer#edward kenway#jennifer scott#haytham kenway#anne bonny
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Hello!! I've been meaning to ask for a while. In Nexo Swap what are Clay's motives to become evil? Are they like Jestro's from the show or is there anything more to that? I'm sorry if that's a dumb question , I'm just really interested in this AU.
Nah, it's not a dumb question at all! Glad you asked actually, as this was a main concept idea I was working on during my mini absence from Nexoswap fkjekjfe. While it’s not necessarily finalized and most likely would change in the foreseeable future, it's much more than I had before when I first brought this au to life.
To answer, Clay’s motivations to become evil are somewhat different than Jestors on account all the personalities in this au the same as in canon. This results in several events changing to fit on how the characters would act in certain situations, but still allow the story to progress the same.
In the beginning, the graduation events are still similar, if not almost identical, to what happens. The most change is with the rest of the knights as their intros have to change with what role they are presenting, Jestro and Clay however, are the most indifferent. Clay is still top knight with honor by his side, and Jestro is still the clumsy court jester.
But after the knights get handed their shields...an incident happens
I'm still struggling to come up with the events that lead up to the incident, but it still has the kingdom going into complete darkness. In short, a civilian in the audience ends up severely injured/dying when Clay was trying to save them during the incident. This...REALLY shook the kingdom, especially Clay due to witnessing the tragedy first-hand. Tying into his fear of failure, this really messed him up severely. Not even 10 minutes into his shielding, he fails to do the one thing he was sworn to do as a knight. Regret, same, and pure guilt consumed him into a full-blown panic, till eventually, he ran off just like Canon Jestro. He dropped his shield and sword in the process, mainly thinking he doesn't deserve them anymore after what he did. Jestro, who came out to see what the hell was going on, only managed to catch a glimpse of Clay as he ran off into the castle.
After all that, Clay ends up in that familiar situation of confronting this au's "Book of Monsters" (which is a sword known as 'The Tainted Excalibur'). There, he gets gaslit into feeling he had no other option than to be a villain. He felt like he already failed as a knight, he feels like the kingdom already turned its back on him, he feels like his friends wouldn’t forgive him, his mind was in an awful place at this moment...So he ends up agreeing
Keep in mind, he isn't 100% willing, deep inside he didn't really wanna do this, but as soon as he grabbed the sword, it kinda did something to him. It's sorta like mind control/brainwashing in a way, just not as powerful, but it pushed him to dive deeper into the path of villainy that deep down he really didn't want. Unlike canon, the two were a bit more thorough with searching for specific books, resulting in the first evil book Clay technically touched/got was the book of Betrayal...and you know what that technically does.
Clay though, wasn't able to give a part of the sword's magic back to him as he was quickly interrupted by Jestro, who just wanted to give Clay's stuff back and to comfort him.
Things happen as normal, Clay summons Monsters using the sword as a staff (the Monsters got controlled in the process), Jestro gets beat up, Monstrox finds this happening and kills himself, etc. Thus begins the story of Nexo Swap
As I said, still revising this idea so that it feels like it fits within the Au/makes sense. It may change in the future, but at least provides a basis for everything. :)
#I apologize for traumatizing the boy#nexo knights#nexo knights au#nexoswap#nexo swap#clay moorington#jestro#knightly-bastard art#concepts#nexoswap concepts
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2. "Thanks, I'll pass. I'd just go wild."
CALL ME MAÑANA - "And then we might go wild together, which sounds fun. But I guess I have a strike to watch."
"So, anything else you wanted to discuss, boiadeiro?"
5. "Good talking to you. Gotta run." [Leave.]
BOIADEIRO
Research time: 6h 30m Temporary research bonus: -1 Physical Instrument: Astra country
It has been brought to your attention that there are men who live by the law of the land and the strength of their arms. Sunburnt, rugged, smoking men who explored the great rivery veins of upper-Magritte and tamed the Mundi wilds. Frontiersmen, cow-herders, philosophers -- the *boiadeiros*... with a gun in one hand and an unfiltered cigarette between their lips, these men made their own rules. What would it take for you to become one too?
🎵 Martinaise, Terminal B
CARGO CONTAINER DOOR - You're back before the cargo container. Its draw has not lessened since you were last here. If anything, it seems to have grown slightly.
3. [Rhetoric - Impossible 18] Persuade the door to open.
+1 Erratic, yet thorough. +1 Been in the world for two days. +1 Been in this world for many days. +1 Precarious world. +1 One more door. +1 Icosahedral Dice Set "Sirens"
RHETORIC [Impossible: Success] - Despite the dirt that surrounds and trails you, a beacon of light emerges from deep within you.
"Hello, is there anybody in there?"
CARGO CONTAINER DOOR - The door stands silent.
KIM KITSURAGI - "Satisfied, detective?" A wry smile crosses the lieutenant's face.
RHETORIC - Try again.
"If there's someone in there, I'd like to talk to you."
CARGO CONTAINER DOOR - Just like that, you hear a click. Then a rattle. Some mechanism unlocks itself inside the door.
MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - From deep within the container, a voice: "Ahoy! Come on in!"
+5 XP
KIM KITSURAGI - The smile disappears. "You can't be serious."
As we approach the centre of the container.... the amount of real we have increases?
MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - The man stands at the far end of the shipping container. It's hard to say anything more about him. You cannot make out any of his details, but you do feel the overwhelming presence of... capital.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Trivial: Success] - The feeling causes all the hairs on your body to stand at attention like soldiers preparing for review.
Squint.
Cover your eyes…
MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - Something's amiss. The light beams bend around his face and scatter in a thousand directions. It seems the laws of physics do not apply here. They are suspended, distorted, an echo.
VISUAL CALCULUS [Impossible: Failure] - Trying to visualize the physics at play is liable to give you an aneurysm. Don't think about it too hard!
MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - In the general stillness, only your tongue moves, flickering as you utter...
"Hello!"
"What's going on in here?"
"Wow."
MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - "Welcome, welcome! Not too much, actually, just pleasantly surprised to have company today."
PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Trivial: Success] - You can't *hear* him, exactly, yet you're able to understand every word he says. It is very strange. An overwhelming hum covers everything -- voice doesn't escape from him.
MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - "Now." He claps his hands together. "What can I do for you gentlemen?" What you can see of his body appears composed. In a sharp summer suit. And yacht shoes.
"Who are you?"
"We should get back to our investigation. Thanks for your time." [Leave.]
MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - "Who *am* I? Oh, I haven't been asked that question for such a long time." There's genuine surprise in his voice. "I don't meet a lot of people outside my circle these days..."
"Anyhow, my name is Roustame Diodore -- investor, licence holder, and extremely high-net-worth individual. And you are?"
+5 XP
KIM KITSURAGI - "Mr. Diodore, I am Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi of the RCM, and this is my partner..."
"Harrier Du Bois."
"The name's Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau. Most likely."
MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - "Pleasure to meet you, Harrier Du Bois," he says warmly. "I must admit, the name suits you very well."
"Who are you?"
"How did you become so rich?"
"What are you doing in this container?"
"You're a rich investor, right? Can I have some money?"
"We should get back to our investigation. Thanks for your time." [Leave.]
KIM KITSURAGI - "Oh, lord, not this again."
"What's the matter, Kim?"
Ignore him.
KIM KITSURAGI - "Oh, nothing. It's just that we've got this *murder* to solve, and yet you go around asking everyone about *money*. And every time I ask, 'Are you sure this is related to the case?', you say, 'Sure, Kim. I think it is'..."
"And yet it never seems to get us any closer to solving the case."
MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - The man chuckles. "It's quite alright. I'm used to the question by now. To be blunt, I inherited my fortune from my grandmother, who, herself, was an extremely high-net-worth individual back in Graad..."
"All I did was take her fortune and invest it prudently. Believe it or not, it takes more than a bit of skill not to blow a vast fortune on sailing boats, bad choices, and *unsupervised* state policy."
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - And blow.
"What's it like being an extremely high-net-worth individual?"
"Cool. But I want to ask you about something else."
MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - The man exhales with a whistle. "I gotta tell you, at first, being rich is a lot of work. You've got to work hard because everything's so darn expensive. You know, prices increase exponentially at this income level..."
"But then, once you've reached my position, it's nearly impossible for me *not* to make money. My assets are so diversified that I'm bound to come out ahead no matter what..."
"Some of my lower-net-worth friends say to me, 'But doesn't that take all the fun out of it?' and I tell them, 'Not really.'"
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jeon jungkook being perfect was a fact you could vouch for; up until he appeared to church without his dear fiancée and his chocolate coloured eyes that delineated so much kindness. the question is—why is it just you noticing his sinister differences?
pairing : jungkook x you (as jia). au(s) : vampire!jungkook, forced roommates!au, enemies to lovers!au. genres : dark romance, mutual pining, slowburn, angst, innuendos of suggestive themes.
content : you tear down jungkook’s fake front of being the most generous soul without knowing he’s an attractive yet menacing curse who lived for way too long. on days you want him to vanish, you sway at his sickly charms—and so does he.
your relationship with jungkook tied into a playlist.
previous chapter. next chapter. chapter directory. masterlist.
chapter two.
word count : 6,4k.
“can you spare some time?” jungkook now smiles in the way you expect. late for you and your suspicions. at this point, you’re just thinking—”surprise me more, jungkook.”
“coffee’s on me.” you suggest gladly. “it’s for yesterday.”
jungkook raises a brow. “are you sure?”
“let me,” you coax. “i’d say the time is quite perfect for it.” you appeal even further as you scan your surroundings once more. everyone’s already gone to where they should be. should you be pleased that no one is near?
“undeniably a perfect time to share cups of coffee.” jungkook nods like he just bought your seduction. “sounds like a plan.”
“you said it was your first day today?” you almost confirm for yourself. this guy hosts chaos in his life; he has too many things going on. you won’t even be shocked if he confesses that he’s actually a father of two children. “how about we walk over to the café at the front? it won’t be as busy as before, so don’t worry about running late to anything.”
“i wouldn’t have asked you if i was in a hurry.” jungkook tilts his head in amusement. “do you have somewhere to be?”
you shake your head in denial. “not exactly.”
“let’s take our time then, shall we?”
the next thing you know, you’re walking side by side with him. he’s half a head taller than you as he strides with confidence under the tender sunlight; one hand hooked onto his jean pocket, his beautifully proportioned legs leads him into taking bigger steps compared to yours. he’s more focused on the scene ahead of him rather than glimpsing at you back and forth; which is an act you’d predict from him, knowing how much of a smart conversationalist he is.
a defined jaw, cheeks full and protruded—it gives him the heavenly balance of youthfulness and masculinity. his eyes are so round and almost reflective with a glimmer, but some strands of his hair are soon going to blanket the starry stars thanks to the attractive length he’s trying to maintain—not too short; not too long.
“does that mean you studied anatomy in the past?” with a subdued voice of yours, you gently intrude his proclaimed silence.
“i unfortunately couldn’t make it further than second year of medical school.” he takes a hitched breath upon chuckling at his own failure. “but i was lucky to be acknowledged in the anatomy and physiology aspect of things, so here i am, giving out additional lectures whenever they need.”
jungkook likely excels in that too; based on the way he’s been conversing with you all this time, he’s been giving you the most detailed and thorough answers to your questions. he speaks fluidly too; he hasn’t stuttered once or spoke too fast for anyone to understand. you can imagine how he’d be when talking to the students in his room.
“everyone’s been wondering what you do.” you confess as you study the side of his face while walking under the trees. shadows envelop his pale face, and you’re no longer able to watch the subtle changes to his expression. “an educator suits you.”
“you think?” his cheekbones move upward; you assume he’s smiling.
“definitely.”
“can i ask how you injured that ankle of yours?” jungkook’s soft, deep voice blankets your ear like warm honey; a voice full of genuine concern. you can tell he’s not asking for the extra point into his account—that much you know after experiencing a life full of tangled twists and hazardous turns. “i happened to notice on the day we met.”
“and i tried so hard to hide it.” you easily admit your defeat in a whimsical exaggeration. “is this your interest in anatomy acting up or was i just awful at acting?” tightening your lips in wonder, you narrow your eyes at jungkook’s face of contemplation.
“i have a feeling you’re going to take back your offer on the coffee if i answer truthfully.”
“i didn’t know you had such a side to you.” you almost scoff before chuckling at his tenuous boast about himself. you suppose he’s not wrong, since no one else noticed for the past few weeks. jimin is an exception.
jungkook stifles a laugh. “i’m sorry to disappoint you.”
outside the trees’ embrace is the café. situated beside the university fountains, the café is petite for everyone’s convenience; the smaller it is, the easier it is for the baristas to receive and submit orders. from what you see, there’s three workers today—a good headcount for the morning wave of students desperate for coffee. their laughter enlightens you; it apprises you that your guess about the rush hour is quite true.
you sigh in relief. “there’s almost nobody around.”
“is there anything in particular you like?”
“i usually go for an espresso.”
“you do?” jungkook asks in surprise when he intentionally takes a bigger step forward. now you realise he’s been trying to walk at the same speed as you this entire time. “you’re the first.” he then says once he reaches the cashier.
“first of?”
“w—what can i get you?” the cashier stutters in nervousness. all the colour in her face has flooded into her cheeks, her shoulders are tense and her fingers are curled into her palms.
is she acting like that because of jungkook?
seriously?
like, seriously?
“we’ll have two espressos to have here, please.” with his customary smile glued to his face, jungkook swipes his card before you can even process your flabbergasted thought.
“wait—” instinctively trying to block jungkook from paying, your hand touches his at the sound of a melodic beep. your body freezes at the familiar sound, knowing it’s too late to bother, so you simply heave out a sigh of disbelief. “that was my chance.”
“how about you decide where we sit instead—” he suggests teasingly. “—after your hand wakes up.”
“i—” you immediately rip your hand off of jungkook’s. “sorry.”
jungkook nods at the cashier upon confirming the order before walking relatively out of the queue, seeing that there’s a student waiting behind. that’s another person witnessing you blatantly holding an engaged man’s hand.
jungkook is engaged.
doesn’t that mean he should be wearing a ring?
that was the left hand you just held—his cold hand—but there isn’t a ring on it.
is there a possibility for it to be on his right hand?
it’s not—that was the hand you held yesterday.
“where would you like to sit?” with the receipt slipped in between his fingers, jungkook turns to you for an answer.
“how about outside?” you suggest. “the sun’s nice, it’s shining this way.”
“shouldn’t that be the reason to avoid the sun?” jungkook shuts down your invitation adamantly; however, in the softest voice and the gentlest smile. without both, you’re sure it would’ve sounded like a warning.
“to some.” you reply vaguely for now. “we can sit over there.” you beckon towards the seat of two in front of the cake display full of creamy confectionery. it’s a place illuminated with mostly artificial light rather than natural lighting.
you know the silence he’s given you is indicative of an approval, but before you can entirely check his expression, you catch a barista approaching the counter to announce the freshly made coffees jungkook ordered just a minute ago. no doubt about it, they’re yours—judging by how small the cups are and how fast it was made.
“two espressos!”
“i’ll go.” you quickly insert. you need to remind yourself that this is not a race, but it feels as if jungkook actually started one. he isn’t good for the competitiveness you were born with.
like clockwork, everything collectively goes on like it should. you, jungkook—the two of you happened to meet out of pure coincidence today, and now, like two freakishly normal acquaintances who are on the same wavelength to maintain a conventional relationship as two catholics attending the same church, the two of you are facing each other—awkwardly—whilst sipping on espressos.
lips departing from the cup, you clear your throat before peering up decisively. “i’m curious what brought you to our church.” your face brightens; grinning heartily with your eyes in play now; they crinkle and shut tight, harmonising with the curve of your lips. “we’re quite undersized if you haven’t noticed already. that’s why you’re making such an impact in the community.”
“you’re flattering me,” jungkook breaks into a short, airy chuckle behind his cup. “but to answer your question, it was merely a suggestion. someone i know recommended your church, saying kazuha and i will be welcomed by a collective of friendly people.” he whispers, “which happened to be very true.”
his answer is so detailed yet so average. it makes complete sense to know he has to consider a friendlier environment for kazuha since she’s not quite fluent in korean, so a friend’s recommendation would be easily followed and trusted.
nothing to note there, and nothing is finding you like electricity like earlier. you could swear his silence spoke so loudly to you back there. was your instinct simply a figment of imagination?
“i assume it hasn’t been long since you moved to seoul,” you ask quietly. “is that correct?”
“i lived in greece for a while before living in busan for a few years.”
“greece,” you lower your gaze to reminisce. your daydreams were filled with overflowing desires to go to santorini one day—the thought still stands, if you really look further down in the crevices of your heart. “i didn’t expect that as an answer.”
“my parents got married there, loved it a little too much and stayed behind longer than anticipated.” jungkook chuckles deeply. “you and i both know how unpredictable life can get.”
“and you moved here because of kazuha?”
“because it all seemed to work out.” jungkook continues, “with the job opportunity of doing something i genuinely enjoy, and to live here with her. it’s much more convenient to stay in seoul if we have to go back and forth to japan as well.”
what if he really is a nice guy?
“that sounds like a dream, despite the constant moving.” bobbing your head with your lips subtly pouted, your thumb traces the curves of the porcelain cup handle. “it must’ve been scary, going from one place to another at a young age.”
jungkook sits in silence when he registers your last sentence. “it might’ve been.” he then admits emptily after a minute. the boy who possessed everything now looks so hollow.
“my father is a neurosurgeon, so he’s always away to operate. my mother is a translator for celebrities, so she’s always overseas, always living in different times.” you breathe out the tightness in your chest. “and it was scary for me, to be left alone like that—since home didn’t actually feel like home, with anyone there but myself. i figured it might’ve felt similar to your journey.”
jungkook lifts his head to smile warmly at your story. perhaps it reached him, like you wanted it to. “your childhood sounds more tough than mine, if i’m being honest.”
“it might’ve been.” you mimic his words playfully.
jungkook sets his cup down onto the table before looking straight into your eyes. he takes you out of thought. given the definition of his gaze, you really do think twice about how much his eyes glow, albeit exceptionally dark. “you said you were significantly interested in something rather than someone.” he tilts his head in wonder, “would that be ballet?”
“it would be.” you answer honestly. “so it’s not nice being handicapped with an injury.”
“tendonitis can be healed as long as you take good care of it.”
“how did you know?” you don’t sound shocked, but your eyes widen at his scarily accurate conjecture. “can you easily tell?”
“please don’t forget kazuha also follows your path.” jungkook grins when he alludes to his fiancée again. “she had the same problem in japan.”
“of course,” you nod understandingly. it’s no doubt that ankles are the first to go when you’re a ballerina. yet here you were, pondering if that was another mishap, since anatomists aren’t doctors or podiatrists.
“perhaps it’s your turn to tell me why you’re here,” he says. “i’ve been curious as well, since i can’t imagine what kind of business ballerinas would have at a university.”
you break into a chuckle at how naïve this smart guy can be. you felt it in the car—this guy feeds you the best chances to attack. “think harder.” you raise a brow teasingly, “this university has more than a normal university would.”
as told, jungkook indulges into deep thought. his look of contemplation shows him habitually tipping his head to the side as his orbs dive straight to the floor. at that, you become aware of his new piercings again. it’s even more noticeable now that it’s reflective.
“the dance studio.” he says after a short skip in time.
“that’s it!” you exclaim like you’ve been waiting this whole time for him to hit the bullseye. “i mean,” not only did you just notice how unnecessary it was for you to be jumping like that, but you also feel his words from before seeping into your spine. “i was only here to take a few of my belongings i left behind.”
jungkook frees an amused laugh. “i don’t bite, jia.”
instantly retreating to your cup of espresso, you take another sip before locking eyes with the guy. “j—just know that i’m taking care of myself.” you stammer in embarrassment.
“please stay away from physical activities.” jungkook leans over, both his elbows resting against his thighs when he does. “i’ll only say it once since i’d hate to be that person.”
“you’re…” you shake your head to cut yourself off. compliments will cause misunderstandings—you’ll save it. “thank you.” is all you mumble.
what if his voice changed a bit?
what if he has some new piercings?
what if he doesn’t wear an engagement ring?
what if he’s overly sensitive to sunlight?
jungkook is right, maybe it’s time for you to face the harsher truths of reality rather than fixating on foolish deceptions. there’s no need to corner such a flawless guy. this isn’t the time to allow your imagination to run wild—you’ve graduated from such thoughts.
what did you expect to discover anyway?
pushing himself back against the chair, jungkook coincidentally stares off to the side and catches the time on the wall. “i’m afraid i’m going to have to end our time here.” he states, “can’t be late to my first class.”
“go ahead.” you reply cordially. “i’ll see you on the weekend.”
“we’ll talk again.”
at his own words, jungkook stands, flashes another grin from above before exiting the café. the barista’s gaze is glued to his back as he leaves, and so is yours. the second you watch jungkook disappear from your vision, your eyes return to the front, only for you to stop yourself from swallowing when you notice jungkook’s cup untouched. the cup is still full of black espresso, now cold from the wait.
in your hands are brand new pointe shoes yet to be broken into, and ahead of you are mirrors, enclosing you in a familiar darkness. you sit there, and only a few lights are illuminated; they’re dimmed, not cranked to their maximum brightness. it’s you that you want to see—nothing else. it’s always been like this for you, though the darkness scares you time and time again.
clenching onto your rigid pointe shoes, you stare blankly at your bandaged ankle. as much as you want to tear the damned thing off so you can slip your feet perfectly into your new pair of pale pink shoes, you just squeeze your eyes shut and sigh out to the greyed ceiling.
will today become a mistake and a regret in the future?
there’s months left till the competition. a brief calculation of 90 days remaining until you fly out to whatever continent in europe and compete against ballerinas from different countries.
the thought of it kills you—it crushes a bit of you inside and you’re in flames to impress, but you know days of patience is what you need rather than gruesome hours of practice.
endure it.
face it.
broken things can heal crooked, and that can’t be you.
the weekend found you like how monday would; it caught you in a blink of an eye. your weekdays felt like vacation because you were only resting at home, caring for your ankle while studying your old ballet videos. you also might’ve squeezed in bits and pieces of your favourite series here and there and maybe cooked yourself two different instant ramen cups at an ungodly hour. you overdid yourself there, but you settled down to officially declare this time as your resting period.
you exit your car, unknowingly stepping into a wet splash. the puddle below your feet pooled throughout your drive here, because after one week, the skies showered the world once more. thankfully it wasn’t as persistent as last weekend, but it was still a hindrance on your way here. cars were desperate to slow down ahead of you, and all you could do was groan behind your steering wheel while selling yourself to the sound of rain pattering against your windshield.
you frown at your partially soaked feet before shaking off any excess water stuck to your sneakers. thankfully it wasn’t your bad feet, otherwise you would’ve dealt with a wet bandage. “the rain and i definitely have issues.” you grumble to yourself.
looking ahead, you see the usual crowd of people at your church, waiting around for the doors of the church to open for today’s mass. you’re exactly on time because of the downfall earlier, so you try to walk faster to avoid the fate of being the last person entering those doors.
when you approach the front, you wave casually to the few people recognising you first—kim jisoo, park chaeyoung and kim mingyu.
“you could’ve taken your time.” chaeyoung’s eyebrows both collapse in concern. “shouldn’t you be taking it easy?”
you shake your head profusely to reassure chaeyoung’s restlessness. she’d always be the first to worry if anything happened to you. “i’ve been taking it way too easy.”
“have you now?” jisoo squints in scepticism. “that doesn’t sound like you at all.”
“i have,” leaning forward into jisoo’s face, all you do is purse your lips and make a ‘tsk’ noise out of them frivolously. “you’d be surprised when you see that i’ve eaten most of the instant ramen you left behind last time.”
“really?” jisoo’s face brightens like the sun on a cloudy day when she hears that you’ve been outwardly taking care of yourself; eating what you want, sleeping as much as you want. “now i’m not worried—so, chaeng, don’t be worried.” she nods adamantly at chaeyoung.
chaeyoung huffs before smiling widely. “okay,” she dismisses softly.
“you say something too, mingyu.” jisoo pats mingyu’s shoulder—and it’s undeniably quite a stretch for her, since mingyu definitely has some height in him. “hasn’t it been long since you last saw jia?”
“i think… it’s been a good two months?” mingyu thinks aloud.
“hm,” you hum before cracking a laugh behind your hand. “i don’t know, you tell me. maybe it’s been three, or even one?”
“stop that,” mingyu uses his index finger to poke the centre of your forehead. you always get pushed back from this, consequently why the guy never stops. twenty more centimetres and you would’ve ran into his forehead with your own. “i went on my business trip when you won that competition.”
“impeccable memory.” you feign amazement by gasping dramatically. “how did that go anyway? didn’t you fly to beijing?”
“says you.” mingyu naturally lowers his hand. “it was nice, since getting out of here always feels good, like the air is different, the food is different, the people are different—”
“he hates us,” jisoo whispers noisily.
“he totally hates us.” chaeyoung whispers back just as noisily.
“no way, mingyu.” you gasp more dramatically than before. “without you here, the air is also different and the church is different—”
“i want you to pray for your safety today.” mingyu quips.
shrugging off mingyu’s wise words, your head turns, and you automatically notice jungkook engaged in a bigger group. some are laughing and exchanging carefree grins to one another, but the focal majority dons earnest expressions. when you glance over, it’s as if jungkook physically felt your stare; he doesn’t make it a secret (not that it’s meant to be) the second he recognises you from afar. eyes first—jungkook smiles, then you observe him slowly excusing himself out of the group crammed with adults and other younger adults close to your age.
“who’s that?” mingyu asks.
“that’s right, mingyu wouldn’t know since he was away.” chaeyoung says. “he joined our church probably a week after you left.”
“he joined with his fiancée—” jisoo adds quietly, “who is weirdly not here today.”
she isn’t?
“great to see you again.” wearing a cool guise, jungkook never misses to sound proper. he offers everyone around a courteous smile to begin before returning to you. “are you taking care of yourself?”
you laugh nervously, feeling rather aware of your friends’ stares. you want to desperately yell at their faces that you’re not homewrecking and this is solely happening because of too many coincidences. “always.” you answer boldly. “and i assume your lecture went well, judging by your friendly face?”
jungkook chuckles attractively at what you said. “even if it didn’t, i wouldn’t be making it noticeable.” he replies. “it went well, and i most certainly wasn’t late to it either.”
“as expected.” you praise. “also, is kazuha not with you today?”
“kazuha urgently flew to japan because her father suddenly had to be admitted for high blood pressure.” jungkook explains, “she couldn’t tell me when she’ll be back, so she preferred me to stay behind.”
“is that so?” you murmur. “please send her my best regards.”
“i will.”
“that reminds me,” you almost forget to make your adorable and speechless friends known to the captivating (and taken) stranger named jungkook. “this is mingyu, chaeyoung and jisoo. they’ve been a part of the church for as long as myself.”
jungkook nods knowingly before facing the two girls first. “thankfully we’ve already met before.” he grins comfortably. “isn’t that right?”
“very right.” jisoo agrees.
“sure did.” chaeyoung straightens her dainty shoulders and tucks her hands into her blazer pockets. “it’s really nice to see you getting along with everyone.”
“you’re too nice.” jungkook deflects.
“that must mean i’m the last person you haven’t met.” mingyu speaks up. “it’s nice to meet you, jungkook.” he offers jungkook a hand. you espy how levelled this whole exchange looks—it’s got to be the perks of being similar height. “i’m mingyu.”
jungkook gladly accepts his hand and gives it a firm yet gentle shake. “it’s nicer to meet you, mingyu.” he replies. “let’s get along.”
“you bet.” mingyu grins smugly.
“we should head in,” jisoo suggests as she brings attention to the opening doors ahead. the two doors swing open heavily with two female reverends pulling each door from behind. light leaks out of the fracture between the doors, faintly igniting the cool evening.
at that, the whole of the community moves towards the entrance. when you walk in, the church is ablaze—from top to bottom, almost every wall is covered in stained glass. it’s a place where you can’t differentiate the time of the day when you’re inside; day or night—the church always stays unchanged. this church isn’t as vast as others, but reasonably cramped and compact—you can see everything from where you are—that being somewhere in the middle, closer to the back.
beside you, there’s chaeyoung with her eyes squeezed shut and hands clasped. jisoo and mingyu went over to the right together, meanwhile jungkook is one of the people in front. upon taking out your rosary from your purse to clench in your hands, the priest climbs a short flight of stairs to stop behind the podium, standing before the pane of religious stained glass.
the mass goes on for an hour. the priest peruses the bible, voicing the god’s prayers. when the first segment rolls over, someone is chosen to read the next prayer behind the lower podium alongside the priest.
you, luckily, have gone up already less than a month ago.
as coincidental as it can get, jungkook happened to be today’s spokesman. how merciless of them, to elect a newcomer like that. nevertheless, in your mind, he seemed to be the perfect prospect anyway. not only does he speak eloquently, but you heard him—the guy never stutters; he delivers every word as if there’s a ribbon tied on top of each term.
jungkook relaxedly rises from his seat and treads lightly to the podium on the left wing. everything about jungkook is so blasé in this specific moment, which you assume is from his so-called experiences. as so, he even seems to be aware of how sensitive the microphone can be, otherwise he wouldn’t be flipping the pages of the bible so quietly. you knew it—he’s in his zone.
“... mother of god, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death.” jungkook articulates. “amen.”
“in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit,” the priest recites. “amen.”
like that, the mass reached the end. it’s around 7pm when everyone scatters, returning to the normalcy of sharing conversations under the moonlight before concluding their weekend. the moon looms over half of the people who remain, while the rest bid their farewells until next time. consequently, that’s you saying your goodbyes to jisoo and chaeyoung, since they have a farther way to go than you.
“i’ll see you next week.” you mouth to the pouting jisoo and the pouting chaeyoung waving at you from ten metres away.
“did you drive?” mingyu asks beside you.
“i did,” you answer with your eyes fixed to the two girls ahead. you watch them vanish when they turn a corner into the car park before meeting mingyu’s eyes that were stuck onto you the entire time. “do you need a ride?”
“i was going to ask you that.”
“that’s awfully considerate of you.” you tease in a whisper. “i’m fine though, since i brought my ride with me.” nudging mingyu against his arm, you give him a toothy grin.
mingyu nods once. “you be careful on the road then.”
“don’t think my driving skills deteriorated because of a single injury.”
mingyu snorts at your furrowing eyebrows tagged along with your dauntless remark. “i’ve been thinking that way before you injured yourself.”
“oh,” you blurt blankly. “just go already.”
“i’ll see you next week—” mingyu drops his arm on top of your head. “—shortie.” he mutters playfully.
you kick the air when he’s staring back at you, already metres ahead. “i’m literally taller than jisoo!” you squeak when he’s gone.
in case you forgot anyone, you examine your surroundings once more. apart from you, everyone’s waving to each other, fading into the coal black of the night, disappearing to pursue their car to rush back onto the road. the headlights of some cars in the distance remind you of fireflies dancing in the dark; which urges you into a realisation that those glowing lights will be zooming off soon, turning off the majority of light in your life, so you decide to leave when the amber lights afar start to wane one by one.
walking quietly on your own, you reach your car—and that specific puddle you bathed your feet into last time. you squint and shake your head, denying the thought of making the same mistake twice. after, your hands sink into your purse to fish out your car keys before going around the puddle to jump into the driver’s seat.
the car park is fully vacant, but there are vehicles lined up on the main road just up front. not that you desperately needed reassurance, but a part of you rests easy anyway, especially knowing that there’s mingyu out there waiting for the traffic lights to blink green.
you hum while fiddling with your phone to choose a song for the road. “perfection.” the corner of your lips lifts at your favourite song—charlie puth’s dangerously.
before you can press the accelerator with your beloved music playing in the background, you glance at the church one last time absentmindedly. it’s like a built-in mechanism, checking out your back the second you abandon a place. you think nothing much of it until you catch a shadow walking past the spot you were exactly at ten minutes ago.
you must be seeing things.
if there was really somebody there, the lights would’ve switched on because of the sensors.
for a split second, you feel a shiver run down your spine. your neck and shoulders feel freakishly ticklish from it, but you want to prove yourself once more that you might be wrong. your body slants to the right, your head peeking out to see more of the church. the lights are still off, and there’s no one there.
“what?” you spit out in puzzlement. “stop scaring me.” you whimper in the dark while decreasing the volume of your song. you’re not in the mood for a party in your car anymore.
you’re seeing things.
eyes clung to the church in hopes of finding nothing again, you silently push the button to start up your car. “this is because i rewatched ‘attack on titan’ last night.” laughing nervously under your heated breath, you move your gear stick into ‘drive’.
it’s at this moment you see the light flicker. the light was brief and small, but you definitely saw it glint in your peripheral vision.
what was that?
which light was that?
you think back—if you possibly saw someone—or something go past the spot you were in earlier, it moved to the left—that being the church.
did someone leave something behind?
you think back once more—did you see everyone leave? was anyone left behind—or did you not see anyone leave? what makes you so sure that you were the last person out?
“why am i even thinking about this—” you sigh in disbelief. “let’s just go.”
wait.
hold on.
a thought crashes onto you—it ruptures everything in your head, and you’re thrown back into the endless pit of your unnecessary hyper analysis of everything and anything.
you didn’t see jungkook go.
you didn’t see jungkook when you saw everyone waving to each other.
if you think about it, jungkook would’ve been heard or talked about at the last minute. knowing he’s the star of the church, no one would just let him go without saying a word or two to him.
you would’ve heard that if that happened.
you know you’re crazy; you know you’re insane for jumping to this conclusion and this is psychotic of you.
you immediately shut down your car when you feel a silver of composure upon seeing that it’s only 7:40pm. an illicit disaster can’t feasibly occur at this time, or no one would actually plot to do anything profane at this time of the night. it’s still relatively early, and you’re going to sneak away and rely on security cameras if there’s really someone you don’t recognise in the dark, roaming around the grounds of the church alone.
conscious of the fact that retracing your steps back to where you were will trigger the lights, you duck your head and soundlessly approach another entrance of the church by looping to the side. it’s a separate entry for the priests, so it’s much more upfront than the main gateway. you have no idea if you should be feeling rather grateful or rather dense (for obviously committing to this thought of yours), but at least there’s enough cover for you thanks to all the shrubs encircling the building. no human eye can detect you with this much darkness drowning you as well.
the only disruption for you right now is this door. you can’t see through it because it’s not exactly transparent. anything you see through it is heavily hazy like a cloud, but you could try to make out shapes if given context.
crouching down to align with the height of the shrubs, you push your ear against the door to pick up any noise from inside. for now, there’s utterly no sound coming from the opposing side of the door; merely the sound of your ridiculously fast heartbeats. determined, your jaw tenses up and your toes curl in your shoes as you persist in waiting for the next few minutes.
the sound of doors swinging open—it’s forceful and reverberating. it’s conspicuous that the person behind the door has no intention to keep themselves a secret, like they’ve come with a solemn purpose.
the sound of their footsteps is relaxed, unhurried, rhythmic… they know exactly what they’re here for, and it’s not their first time coming here. otherwise, their steps would be broken up, wondering where to go in this pitch blackness.
“about your beloved girlfriend, that—” he cracks into a disturbing laughter. “i forgot which one.”
is that jungkook?
he exhales in thought, “the one you begged me to save.”
no way in hell that it is.
this guy sounds… completely different.
“she reincarnated,” he says. “and called herself kazuha.”
kazuha?
terror suddenly washes over you; your heart is now throbbing in your ear, and your muscles are completely frozen. now you seriously feel your instinct screaming and pleading you to retreat. even if your mind was detained with horror or not, you can barely understand anything—whatever the hell this guy is saying about saving, reincarnating and about kazuha—she wasn’t even here today.
“you should’ve seen the face she made when i bit her.” he snickers in a breath heavy and husky. “sorry, now i’m really bragging, aren’t i?”
bit?
“you’ve grown,” he mocks. “i was hoping to see you insane again. you’re quite a sight to see yourself.”
is kazuha… dead?
“let’s see how long you last.”
right after that, everything stopped. you couldn’t hear his threats anymore, nor his steps or the sound of the door slamming back shut. you can feel the rate of your heart slowing, but you already know every colour is drained from your face. whatever that was feels like a fever dream to you, and you still don’t know whether to believe if that was true or not. life has never been this questionable to you.
shocked, you muster courage to drag yourself out of hiding nonetheless. your car isn’t far from where you are, but you still think it’s smart to take your time. god knows if that psychopath is still lurking around and talking to the skies. you gradually find your way out of the shadows and see that your car is still undamaged. judging by how things are right now, you wouldn’t even be surprised if your car exploded into flames then ashes.
“jia?”
you stand there for a couple of seconds, feeling yourself shrinking away at the sound of your own name. you try your hardest to contain any shallow breaths and shaky limbs. there’s a weight in your stomach now, and the pounding of your heart is starting to feel painful.
“may i ask why you’re here?”
it is jungkook.
he killed kazuha.
“it’s not nice to ignore someone, jia.” jungkook’s aura completely shifts; there isn’t an ounce of sweetness left in his voice, instead he sounds exactly like that voice from before—you prayed for it to not be his, but deep within, you knew it could only be him.
“i was waiting for you.” crossing your arms, you deadpan as you spin around. this really isn’t time for you to argue, but you’d rather die than exhibit your fear.
“were we ever that close?”
“if we’re close enough to sit across from each other and share cups of coffee,” you challenge. “wouldn’t it make sense for me to stop if i see them doing something awfully strange, like talking about reincarnations and biting into your fiancée?”
“the world calls that nosiness.” with his head lowered, jungkook takes steps forward. everytime he inches closer, your body naturally flees by taking steps backward.
your limbs are free; you’re under control again as you back away from jungkook. “and what does the world call you?”
jungkook finally raises his head and glares into your tentative eyes brimming in perturbation. “instead of talking so much,” his fingers creep around your neck, and you instantly stiffen at his cold hand connecting with the heat emanating from the base of your nape. “why don’t you try and beg me to save you?” forcibly yanking you down to be on par with his lips, he then whispers scarily, “amuse me.”
your heart is beating so frantically, you could actually feel your body beating as one. it feels nauseating when it clashes with the pure fear coursing through your flesh and bones. your breaths are clinging to your throat and you’re failing to swallow them down. your legs are paralysed and so are your shoulders. one single move, and you think you’re going to crumble and fall to pieces.
“no one wants to die.” you answer breathlessly. “did kazuha not tell you?”
retracting his hand, you carefully watch jungkook resort to putting both hands into his pockets instead. “she couldn’t.” he laughs huskily, “she had no idea she was dying.”
snapping your head upward, you scowl at his deranged smirk. “what the hell are you?”
“i’ll tell you,” jungkook harshly lunges forward to press your body against the nearest wall. your back lands rather softly against it, and you think a lot of it because now you understand he’s exceedingly capable of adjusting his brute strength; that being nothing alike to a human’s. “in exchange for your blood.” he crooks his head into the side of your neck and breathes heavily onto your skin.
blood?
panicking, you try to tear him away by pushing his chest. he doesn’t budge, but you find a moment to steal a glimpse of his half-shut eyes that’s centimetres away from your face.
the colour of his eyes are yellow.
“jungkook,” you interject. “promise me you won’t kill me.”
his breathing stops, and you squirm as you watch the rest of his eyes open slowly. his yellow orbs are devoid of any emotion, but they look at you in fascination.
“i’m being serious.” swallowing the lump in your throat, you clench onto his shoulders desperately.
“why should i do that?”
#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jungkook x oc#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfics#jungkook fanfiction#bts#bts x you#bts x reader#bts x oc#bts fluff#bts angst#bts fanfic#bts fanfics#bts fanfiction#bts imagines#jungkook imagines#bts jungkook#bts jeon jungkook#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfics#kpop fanfiction#jungkook scenarios#bts scenarios#kpop scenarios
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Reincarnation AU.
I saw the thing about Hot Rod having TFA Roddy as a sickly child and this just popped into my mind: Hot Rod going to mama Prowl to ask how to take care of a sickly baby, since baby Prowl/Lil P was sick a few times (thanks Jazz that one time and maybe sometimes Bumblebee) and Hot Rod has zero clue how to take care of this child, especially with how ill they are.
So just... Prowl and Hot Rod friendship ig. Bonding over cute babies and having to keep an optic on them because sickly babies then watching.
Hot Rod is a mess of nerves cuz his baby's vents constantly have a horrible wheeze and a rattle to them, he's always shaking and breaks out in a fever at least 3 times a decacycle. He has to sanitize everything and anyone that wants to hold the baby has to have a thorough decontamination bath and their vents flushed. The poor sparkling has trouble recharging and always seems to have aches and pains somewhere, discomfort radiating in his little EM field and all he can do is cry. Roddy's at his wits end and has no idea what to do: honestly, he's really not ready to be a parent. He's barely even an adult himself.
He goes to Prowl because he's always taking Lil Pea to the medics, surely he'll have some tips for managing the more stressful at-home parts of having such a sick kid, right?
They both kinda get hit with a surprising realization at the same time--Lil Pea isn’t actually all that sickly. Prowl's overprotective and was rightfully worried cuz bitty's so thin, but in reality? He's pretty healthy. He's nowhere near as frail as Roddy's sparkling, and the much younger mech breaks out in tears when he realizes. He's just so stressed, he's sleep deprived and exhausted and terrified and he has no idea what he's doing. He had so much hope riding on this, that Prowl would be able to help him, but seeing him with his happy healthy baby just... feels like the end of the world. In response to his carrier's distress, baby Rod starts crying too and then they're both crying and it's a whole mess.
Hot Rod's apologizing, desperately trying to wipe his tears and stop blubbering and bounce the baby in one arm but he's so strung out and exhausted and he needs help. Prowl's a first time parent too, but he's considerably older: he doesn't hesitate to scoop the little one out of Hot Rod's arms and tell him to sit. Breathe, try to calm down, it's gonna be ok. His office doesn't have a couch but there's an extra chair: Hot Rod kinda just collapses in it and buries his face in his servos, trying to get ahold of himself. Prowl steps out into the hall, pulling out a bottle and starts carefully bouncing the poor baby and rubbing his back, shushing him. It takes awhile, but eventually they both stop. Hot Rod is still shaking and he looks miserable, but still reaches to take his sparkling back.
"I..." his voice is shattered. Defeated. Broken. "I don't know what to do."
They talk for a really, really long time. Realistically, he's already doing everything he can for his son. He's following all the instructions from the medics, he's off work for the foreseeable future because the baby needs round the clock care and monitoring. Prowl... doesn't really have any experience with having such a frail child. No one does. Hot Rod whispers, tearful and exhausted, that... he's even considered giving him up for adoption. He loves him endlessly, but he doesn't feel like he's taking good enough care of him. Doesn't think he can take good enough care of him. He doesn't want to give him up, but... he'd rather his baby be happy and healthy but away from him than be sickly and unhappy but with him. He hangs his helm lower than Prowl has ever seen, forlornly apologizing and coldly calling himself a failure.
This is honestly outside of Prowl's scope of expertise--says he won't try to talk Hot Rod out of it if that's really what he wants, but will try to help however he can. Resources are extremely limited with the war, but he pulls as many strings as he possibly can and gets the poor mech a series of meetings set up, in person and virtual alike, to explore more options and to help him find his footing. Parenting is hard, especially if your child has subpar health. He thinks Hot Rod just needs some guidance and support: the stress has made him want to give up but it's not the only possible path forward. Some old parenting books and advice columns are really all they have right now, but it's better than nothing. They can get his work stuff figured out, set up a schedule so he can actually rest while someone qualified minds the bitty, they can look into treatments and therapies to help strengthen his little body, if only a little bit.
"It's going to be alright, Hot Rod... you're both going to he alright."
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Ooh, how about "X" for your black arms crew?
i'm including Neutral End in this too yahooo (from this!)
X. What's their biggest fear?
aruna he's been through so much these past 13+ years that he's swung pretty hard into "desensitized" territory. to most, he would seem eerily unfazed and always collected. the exception might be disorientation in relation to waking from particularly nasty nightmares, but those rarely happen, and tend to happen only under specific circumstances, so i'm not counting it.
it's less that he's afraid of traditional tangible things at this point, and more about concepts. the thought of forgetting fills him with so much dread it's hard for him to process. when he starts to get into it, there comes a point where he has to force himself to stop thinking about it or he'll drive himself mad trying to recall what's no longer there, or the sinking feeling that there's something he's already missing.
nearly his entire self-proclaimed purpose in life now, other than to live for himself, is to remember. memories are all he has left to keep his people alive. so for him to forget even the smallest detail is to essentially be a failure who's lost his purpose for living in place of... literally everyone else. the survivor's guilt is real, and it is heavy. it doesn't manifest with sadness. it's simply this.
he likes to think he remembers everything perfectly. time and trauma have seen to it that he does not. he claims his people didn't have songs. he's forgotten black moth knew and sang the last of their kind.
black moth it's a little odd for a "moth", maybe, but bright lights instill an almost primal sense of dread in him. he can't pinpoint any rhyme or reason for it. in most other situations, he'd have the "fight" reaction when adrenaline kicks in, but when it comes to this, he just freezes.
and by bright lights i don't mean just any. it's not as if he's going to freak out if you turn on overhead fluorescent lights or something, even if he's not a fan of those in general. it's if he's already in a dark room and you shine a single beam on him from overhead, or things like extremely bright, large spotlights in the distance.
he assumes it's fear, anyway. maybe it would be more accurate to say it's awe. the last traces of some long-buried memory.
black moth remembers the songs. black doom remembers the illuminated rings their planet had. they've both forgotten pieces of their history they once held dear, and all that's left in those empty places is dread. but maybe it's better to fear this empty unknown than to mourn it.
alt doom defeat or mistakes he can't come back from. he has been beaten and pushed into a corner countless times, but he always comes out on top in some way, or knows when to employ a strategic retreat. this guy is ruthless and thorough in a much more strategic way, or at least the little mishap with gerald taught him to be.
if he knew what aruna had been through to end up with his entire species eradicated, he'd be a) dumbfounded by aruna's "stupidity", and b) horrified by the outcome. alt doom cannot fathom a reason or a route where he himself would get desperate enough for it to end like that. the possibility of losing that badly, and that much, is almost beyond his ability to comprehend.
he's lucky that arrogance hasn't been his undoing. if he were still in existential peril these days, maybe it would be.
neutral end doom he's kind of just aruna give or take some steps, and that's intentional, but by the end he's different enough to have a place on this list. especially since his fear is different: time. he's genuinely just afraid of running out of time, despite staring that fact in the face constantly. past a certain point in his hive, his kind dying and fizzling out is just a known inevitability.
he knows that, and yet he refuses to let it consume him. so he claims. that broken hourglass hangs heavy from his chains.
neutral end shadow honorary black arms. the running trend here is loss. he is keenly aware now-his-kind are going to die. he's seen countless black arms be cut down or wither away. he doesn't want to lose anyone else, least of all black doom or black moth.
it's inevitable, he knows. he's seen the hourglass too. but he'll be thankful for the time they have left until there's no one left to be thankful for.
#i didn't expect any to come in i was just stashing it to do for myself on the side heheh#thank you! always happy to have more excuses to talk about my favorite squeaky toy#sea answers#measlyfurball13#aruna stuff#black arms: black moth#alt doom#neutral end au#the more i think about it the more i realize the two main dooms very much would not get along#runa would want to tear alt to pieces after like five minutes of them chatting#but that's for another post
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the golem
My God,
Shaddai,
Tzevaot,
יהוה,
All of my being,
Made in Your design.
From mud and clay you formed Adam,
My father,
And my father’s father,
And today I give You, Adonai,
A son,
Formed from the same soil,
The clay of Jerusalem.
He has Your eyes.
I did everything right,
I swear,
He was made to be grand and glorious,
My shaking hands,
My weak knees,
I am nothing but your follower,
Your sheep,
And yet I have created life.
This old back of mine,
Sloughed the mud of Zion,
Onto the dried carcass of this father Golem,
The ancient and decrepit protector of this city,
Reinvigorating him,
Making him young and new.
With trembling hands I sculpted his face,
Features as strong as Your hand,
Av Ha-Rahimim,
With the nail of my finger I carved on his young forehead,
The sacred letters (as instructed),
Aleph,
Mem,
Tav,
Emet, my lord,
Truth.
He came to life,
(What a glorious mitzvah),
The air seemed to stand still around him,
I could feel my own breath,
Being dragged into the cracks in his skin,
Into the hollow sockets of his eyes,
The depth of his mouth,
Your son,
My son,
I gave him Your name,
Tsur,
Rock.
He worked well in the home,
Moving the cattle,
Collecting dates from the trees,
Building homes for Your children,
Out of the same material of which he was created.
Mattanah,
My gift from God,
No,
Minchach,
My gift to You,
Ehyeh,
I gave this creature life,
With the intention that You could take root in his beautiful body,
I built a home for Your soul, my Lord,
So that You may come to Earth,
To Zion,
And protect my people,
Your sheep,
To be close to me,
To allow me to gaze into the breathtaking blackness of his eyes,
And see You there.
I look at Tsur and I don’t see You,
All I see is dust.
All I see is my own failure,
To create a home worthy enough for Your soul,
For ruach ha-kodesh.
While he rests I dampen his forehead and swipe my finger over his brow,
Removing the aleph, leaving only met,
Death,
His hand comes up to my wrist, squeezing it gently.
This thing is not You,
For You, Elohim, death is not real,
Meaning there is no real fear of it,
And yet as Tsur pinched my wrist,
His hand trembled.
He was afraid.
His skin crumpled off him,
Turning into dust,
Which I wet and smeared on his old carcass yet again.
This time I was more thorough,
I made him again in Your likeness,
God made man,
(please, you must be exactly like me).
This time I sang those same letters around Your new body,
And cried out Your name until You scratched at my throat,
Until I could no longer hear my call for You,
YHWH.
And it worked!
You gave him life!
But yet again,
You will not take a liking to this form I have gifted You,
I wrap his arms around myself and I don’t feel Your warm embrace, Lord,
Only dry earth.
I am enraged, El,
I will not lie to you,
I stick a piece of parchment into Tsur’s mouth,
Ordering him to sit,
Stay,
And I hobble around him again,
This time backwards,
Those some letters clawing their way out of my mouth,
Your name,
All backwards.
Yet again,
He turns to dust.
I sculpt him a third and final time,
I kneel in front of this body I have made for You,
This shapeless mass,
I chant the shem,
I wrap my arms around his knees,
I weep Your name into them,
Wetting the clay around my own face,
A cast of my sorrow imprinted on his shin.
Yet again,
You bring him to life,
But you won’t take to him,
Why, God,
What have I done wrong,
I have made him beautiful,
My mind has raced around the shape of You,
Trying to outline Your silhouette,
To imagine a glimpse of you,
And I have worked hard,
I have been Your slave,
I made this golem for you,
Please, God,
If you have condemned me to a fate in this frail body,
Please,
Accept the glorious one I have made and remade,
Over and over again
In my image of You.
My back burns,
My knees give out,
Everything aches,
As I lay in a heap under you, Eloah,
Looming above; the Shamayim,
Spasming from pain,
The shadow of Tsur envelopes my weak body You have sculpted for me,
Sending chills down my broken spine,
And while I think about my father,
And my father’s father,
And the first father,
Adam,
I sob.
All of the men who have come before me,
Good men,
Good sheep,
Who wanted only to be close to You,
To share a room with you,
To break fast with you,
But who were instead banished to these cold,
Soft bodies,
Rooted so deeply to the earth,
That only in death we could hope to meet You.
I hum Your name,
Your most glorious name,
My fate,
And the fate of Tsur,
And the fate of all the men,
Good jewish men,
Before and after me,
Ein-sof,
No end.
#writing#original story#fiction#short story#creative writing#amwriting#poetry#jewish folklore#jewish history#jewish#golem#judaism
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Very thorough, well stated, well reasoned, and interesting meta, I'll give you that. But I think at the end of the day, the tl:dr of it is that Under The Red Hood was written like an ongoing, tigthly woven and tightly written, very mature graphic novel, whereas MHA is written like a shonen manga, meaning a Japanese comic geared towards young boys and teens. One will have more natural benefits than the other.
It's also pretty notable that basically everything you from The Hellish Todoroki Family story you take the most issue with are all from the manga's third and final act, the part that came out the worst of all.
And I'm in disagreement with a few of the things said here.
On Enji's atonement, I think the narrative dissonance isn't really built into the narrative by mistake so much as it is a product of your expectations not being met. We're not really told or shown that "Enji is atoning", we're told and shown that Enji has the want to atone and is thus trying to atone. Keyword there: trying. He's trying, but there's a marked difference between desire and effort, and between attempt and capability. For someone like Enji, the process will be shaky. With every success at self-improvement, there will come failure, stumbles and even some steps backward. Enji Todoroki is not Bruce Wayne. This is a man who was prideful, wrathful, greedy, pitiless, ruthless, entirely selfish and outright abusive for about 30 years. Expecting him to always make the right choice and chart out the most logical and successful path in his atonement efforts strikes me as very naive and not really understanding the character and his story. And more importantly, everything he did from his talk with All Might as the new Number One Hero all the way to Dabi's big reveal? Those were the warm-ups of his atonement arc. The really heavy challenges for him reared their heads once Touya was in play and the whole world knew about all the sins Enji committed in his family life and kept hidden from public view. Beforehand, Enji had begun his path of atonement as a way to seek out comformity with what being the Number One Hero entails and to become a more "worthy" father to his kids in order to feel more at peace with himself. He began to develop very sincere regrets about his life and the choices he'd made on his way to the top, and a very sincere desire to make amends with those he'd hurt and do right by them, but there was still a big ego factor involved in what was driving him forward, and the amends he made tended to be very basic and shallow. It's only now that the gravity of what a monster he'd been, and the monster he created in being so, knocked Enji down and made him fully awake to what needs to be done to fix his shit. Did the following story really deliver on Enji's atonement and effort to choose fatherhood over heroism and save Touya so that he and the rest of the family don't lose him a second time? Not very strongly, no. The lack of serious repercussions for Enji following what Dabi did, the continued butchery of Hawks with the lack of a rift in his and Enji's relationship and his dumbass idea, and everything involving goddamn AFO, got in the way and made it less effective than it should've been. However, I do appreciate that it was a made a point that Enji lacked the capability to triumph and stop or save Touya on his own. His fatherhood was not strong enough to reach Touya, and at the time that really counted, all he had was lots of apologetic words and very limited repentent and loving action. When he realized that doubling down on strength and bravado to push back against his fears, regret, anguish and emotional turmoil inside him was no longer helping anything, he realized he'd have to give all that he had within him, even his very life, to atone for his sins against his family, Touya in particular...but the realization came late. Too late for him to be a big difference-maker without his family's aid. Shouto, Natsu, Fuyumi, and even Rei were all the true heroes he could never hope to be in his entire lifetime, and they inspire him, just as heroes always inspire. They are the push to make himself better and do better going forward, to keep on doing right by them and by the world even if it comes with more pain and little to no rewards. While Endeavor himself is no inspiration: he's a cautionary tale.
You can "do your best" to atone for your past sins and your best won't always be good enough. But what's important is the principle of it, the endeavor, hopeless as it may seem. That was the whole point!
(Also, you neglect to mention that when Enji first rushed to face Touya in the final battle, there was a moment of clarity for him where he interally said he can now "finally see Touya". For the first time, he sees his son. That's meant to suggest when he looks at Dabi, he finally isn't seeing Touya-the-extension-of-him, but Touya as his own person, the same one who'd always wanted his acknowledgment, the child of his he'd looked away from rather that look at for who he was)
Not only is the idea that Enji and Dabi are not compelling figures in their own story and are failed by the narrative entirely subjective, but Enji "NOT LIFTING A FUCKING FINGER TO HELP" is demonstrably false. Enji tried to soothe Touya down at the start of their fight, tried to get him away from other people who'd be put at risk as a result of their family conflict, and when Touya had burnt himself out and Shouto's ice was freezing him from the inside, Enji warmed him up so that he'd not die right there and then. Because despite how suicidal Dabi had acted for all this time, Enji recognized that dying in this way is not what Touya really wanted - all he had ever wanted was attention, approval and acknowledgment from his father. Enji ensured his son would live to get all of that from him for every single day he had left. And it's an absolutely horrific state Touya is left in, no doubt. But Enji now loves his son too much and is so remorseful for how things ended up because of him that he's willing to take time out of every day in the foreseeable future to provide Touya with the one mercy concievable to offer, to validate Touya's existence in this way.
But it's towards the end that you state, IMHO, the wrongest things:
The underlying problem with the whole arc and why The Hellish Todoroki Family fails as a tragedy, is because it wasn't written to be a tragedy.
The Todoroki Arc is not set up to us as a tragic one. The ending is pretty clearly telegraphed to the whole audience. People are not wrong for thinking that Toya's ending would be either rehabilitation like Rei with the eventual hope of being welcomed home, or some kind of house arrest where he still gets to be with his family.
It's a written as a romantic story of a family healing, and the villain getting saved,
Dude, it's called The HELLISH Todoroki Family. It was never going to be a romantic story of family healing with a feel-good happy family ending. For all the cries of how the tragic ending doesn't feel earned given all the set-up (which is part of a much larger problem with the final act of MHA on the whole), I believe, and long have believed, that things ending with the Todorokis as a fully mended family living happily ever after with one another would feel like a narrative cheat. Not only was this family broken long ago, it's been futher breaking bit by bit for years, so when Enji's chickens finally came home to roost, I didn't for a second think it would all end positively for the family sans Enji. I knew it would lead to a conclusion that was bittersweet at best. A messy, ugly family drama should not get to have a neat, pretty ending to it. The family remaining connected by blood and by experience but otherwise going their own ways seemed inevitable and perfectly fitting an outcome to me, even if stuff with Enji, Rei, and Touya ended up getting significantly botched in the execution. Skipping the stages of grief and going right to acceptance of the whole thing is another shonen manga format-induced weakness.
And in all this, as much as I agree that it's stupid of Horikoshi's writing to have the characters constantly verbally condemn Dabi for his actions just to hammer in that what he does is wrong, attitudes like the one this meta has tilts towards the opposite extreme direction; downplaying Dabi's atrocious acts or giving absolution of them entirely because he was a sad boi who wanted his daddy to pay attention to him and validate him. You mention that the Todoroki family utterly failed to prevent a Sekoto Peak repeat and save Touya, and true, they did. What I have to ask is that once Dabi turned himself into a time bomb and was self-immolating, what was any of them supposed to do? To save someone who unambigously does not want to be saved is a Herculean effort, and so it's not guaranteed success. Prior to all the agency leaving Dabi as he's reduced to a shrieking, raving, hateful corpse on fire, Dabi had agency and choices to make to, and Horikoshi never wrote him choosing right. He kept him unremorseful, psychotic and monstrous the whole way through. So just as everyone failed Touya, Touya even failed himself.
Lastly, the story does not end on a note of "Enji has successfully atoned for everything". His exact words are that "he'll be making amends and apologizing for his sins for the rest of his life", meaning it's an ongoing process that's far, far, far from completed, and even then he believes he's bound for Hell in the end. Not to mention he's not just crippled and in a wheelchair now; he's been dismembered, he's been scarred and burned all over, he can't be physically active enough to effectively use his Quirk anymore and can exercise power and control over no one, he's taken great internal damage that could be a long-term health risk, he's lost his family's presence in his life and likely the support of many fellow heroes, and has to live in a world where his reputation is at rock bottom with the public to the point where he's got lots of harrassment, investigation, and civil suits coming his way. It's not a pleasant outcome for him, and he has to endure it all as his atonement is ongoing. To me, that is perfect, and is in truth as far off from "pity with no condemnation" as it gets.
JASON TODD VS. DABI: WHY NOT ME?
"You haven't been here long but you've seen him, right? The batman. The batman. He lives in darkness, to find the helpless and bring them into the light. So I have to wonder...why couldn't he do it for me?" The Boy Wonder: Issue #2
This is the story of the boy who didn't get saved. The story of a boy who really ought to have been saved. Of course, every victim deserves to be saved, but this boy was the son of a superhero. Can a hero who saves everyone, but fails to save his own son really be called a hero? As for the son, how does it feel to watch his father save complete strangers but let him fall to the wayside?
Jason Todd and Dabi are two characters with similar backstories and motives (so similar it's possible Dabi is outright based on Jason Todd) which are worthy of comparison. These are two tragic arcs which explore the conflict between a hero's responsibility to act as a father, and their responsibility to save people. As I said they are tragic because in both cases the hero fails, as a father, and a hero. However, I'm comparing the two because Jason Todd's story is a well written tragedy, and Toya's story is not.
If you were to write a story of my life, it would surely be a tragedy.
Aristotle's Poetics is the first attempt to define what Tragedy is, not as a story where sad things happen but a specific story structure. He outlines not only what makes tragedy, tragedy, but also what makes a good tragedy.
The Plot, then, is the first principle, and, as it were, the soul of a tragedy: Character holds the second place. A similar fact is seen in painting. The most beautiful colours, laid on confusedly, will not give as much pleasure as the chalk outline of a portrait. Thus Tragedy is the imitation of an action, and of the agents mainly with a view to the action.
I use this quote because the painting metaphor is a great way of explaining what I'm getting at, you can have a painting with the most wonderful colors, you can have a story with really good ideas like the Todoroki family plotline but if you don't use those colors correctly all you're going to end up with is a bad painting.
In poetics Aristotle clearly defines a tight well-structured plot as the first priority for effective tragedy, character as second.
Again, a beautiful object, whether it be a living organism or any whole composed of parts, must not only have an orderly arrangement of parts, but must also be of a certain magnitude; for beauty depends on magnitude and order. Hence a very small animal organism cannot be beautiful; for the view of it is confused, the object being seen in an almost imperceptible moment of time. Nor, again, can one of vast size be beautiful; for as the eye cannot take it all in at once, the unity and sense of the whole is lost for the spectator; as for instance if there were one a thousand miles long
To make sure you understand, it's vital in tragedy for all the pieces to fit together. Tragedy is a specific story format. Good tragedy uses the parts of a story well, but bad tragedy is sloppy and poorly put together. In tragedy, the whole has to be greater than the sum of its parts. The Todoroki Family are all good characters out of context, but the story could have enhanced their characters but detracted from them due to how poorly it is told. The fact that a lot of MHA fans are in love with the Todoroki family out of the context of the story, but also have constant complaints for how Horikoshi handles their plotlines is, in my opinion, very telling.
What Aristotle goes on to posit is the best tragedies do not come about by accident, but rather by the direct actions of the characters.
But again, Tragedy is an imitation not only of a complete action, but of events inspiring fear or pity. Such an effect is best produced when the events come on us by surprise; and the effect is heightened when, at the same time, they follow as cause and effect. The tragic wonder will thee be greater than if they happened of themselves or by accident; for even coincidences are most striking when they have an air of design.
Therefore Tragedies require consequentialism, like Newton's Third Law, every action will have an equal and opposite reaction. To simplify a good tragedy arises from the consequences of the character's actions (or inaction). The most basic form is that the hero of the story will have a tragic flaw that they fail to improve upon in time and then leads to their destruction. In essence, tragedy is where the hero fails. Not only does the hero fail, but the hero loses, and that irreversible loss is what defines tragedy. Medea slays her own children, Oedipus rips his own eyes off and deserts his kingdom, Creon Antigone is buried alive and Creon's son, her fiancee, commits suicide.
These events share two things in common, they are irreversible (hence why they feel like good endings), and two they evoke catharsis. Aristotle defines the goal of tragedy to evoke terror and pity. We feel alongside these heroes, Medea was abandoned by the husband Jason who she left her home and slaughtered her own brother for, Oedipus did all of his crimes unwittingly and is a victim of fate, Antigone was doing the right thing by burying her brother so his soul could pass on to the afterlife.
There's all different sorts of tragedies, Hamliet explores more here. I'd say UTRH and Hellish Todoroki Family are tragedies centered around grief.
Tragedy works on extreme emotions, and extreme hard-hitting consequences to the hero's failures. The worst thing a tragedy can be is boring.
The Tragic Hero
Now that I'm done lecturing you let's actually talk about both My Hero Academia and Batman like I promised. Both of these stories don't actually feature the central victim as their protagonist, and that is a feature not a flaw.
Rather, the story we are being told is that of a tragic hero, failing to save a tragic victim because of their own personal flaws.
These flaws are called (hamartia) or "error in judgement". A hero, being called a hero of a story is often unaware of his flaws which is central to what makes them unable to fix those flaws in time. That flaw can later lead to a moral failing, such as Othello's jealousy, initially jealousy is an understandable emotion, but then it leads to him trusting Iago over his own wife and killing his wife in a rage.
Most importantly, the hero’s suffering and its far-reaching reverberations are far out of proportion to his flaw.
Let's begin with talking of the heroes and their flaws, Batman and Endeavor. My main reason for comparing these two is in these specific stories they have the same flaw, inability to move past their personal guilt towards their son, and the same conflict the duty of a father versus the duty of a hero.
However, Batman functions as a tragic hero, and Enji does not. The summary of their conflict is right here in these two panels.
A parent is required to place their children above everything else, because they are the ones responsible for bringing that child into the world. Bruce Wayne made the decision to adopt Jason. Enji made the decision to have children, however with Enji you have the added insidious motivation of he only wanted to make designer babies and just didn't care for the ones who didn't turn out right.
Bruce attempts to do both, to act as a father for Jason and also a crime fighter as batman but he can't do both. This comes to a head in Death of the Family when Jason is having serious trouble because of his lack of a strong parental figure, and Bruce knowing that Jason is in trouble chooses still to go off and fight crime instead of staying with him. The choice to place crimefighting over the child they chose to take responsibility for has the unintended consequence of getting that child killed.
Whereas Enji makes the same choice over and over again, ignoring Toya's clear troubles at the fact his father no longer spends time with him and choosing to run away to the world of heroes because he doesn't want to face the fact that his actions are severely hurting his son. Bruce's motivations are more sympathetic admittedly he wasn't actively practicing eugenics, but the choice is the same and the consequences are the same.
Both Bruce and Enji are forced to bear witness to the deaths of their children when they are not there, specifically because they made a choice to be a hero instead of staying by their child's side. A situation directly caused by their choice to be a hero over a father, and a situation that would have been avoided if they had stayed with their child in their time of need. Jason runs off when Batman tells him to stay and gets kidnapped by the Joker, if Enji had been on Sekoto peak that day Toya would never have accidentally lost control of his fire.
This is just the backstory however, the main event that kickstart this plot is the unexpected return from the dead of both Jason and Dabi. Each story follows the same plot beats. A new villain appears to challenge Endeavor / Batman. The villain reveals themselves as their dead son. Both Endeavor / Batman are given a chance to try reaching out to their sons, but they choose not to.
Then even though they are given a second chance with a miracle of a dead son coming back to them, they choose the exact same thing they chose before, being a hero and because of that the tragedy repeats itself. For both of them they are unable to save their son again, and the son goes through a second death. History repeats itself, the lesson isn't learned.
Their fatal flaw is their guilt. This is a story about grief and mourning after all, a son who is died, buried, but never grieved properly, never mourned, an open wound on the father suddenly coming back. The inability of each to process their grief blinds them from seeing the fact the son has come back, and they have a second chance.
Toya has internalized he is a failure, because Enji literally called him that. Jason believes that Batman thinks he is a failure. In both cases the father is the one who failed, Bruce at least acknowledges this but cannot communicate it in any way shape or form.
This guilt and responsibility both Enji and Bruce feel causes them to self-sabotage. They no longer have the confidence they are in the right (they no longer feel like heroes because they have failed to be heroes to their own son).
You can also add the layer of complication that since both men chose to be heroes in the past, they do not know how to handle the situation as a father now that they're being challenged to step up as one. Unfortunately, they are not the fathers that stepped up.
The reason their grief becomes a flaw is because they put their grief over their victims. . Each man is aware too much of their own failure, and while they should feel guilty they make the classic mistake of placing their own guilt over the feelings of the victim. The guilt they feel for causing the death and the genuine grief of losing a son is given priority over Jason and Dabi who you know... actually died.
An overwhelming grief and guilt is understandable because grief is a messy and human emotion, losing a child is an unimaginable tragedy that should never be inflicted on anyone.
Yet at the same time both Dabi and Jason are grieving to. This paradox that Batman only thinks of his own grief at losing a son and never stops to think about how Jason must feel leads to one of the best lines in Under the Red Hood.
"The father had lost a son, and now the son had lost a father."
Batman's guilt is so strong over being the cause of Jason's suffering, that the suffering of the victim himself is ignored. To be fair to My Hero Academia, the Todorokis say a similar line to Enji.
However, this is where I begin to get into the difference between ideas and execution. Tragedies are stories of actions and logical consequences, every action has an equal and opposite reaction in Under the Red Hood. Batman is punished for the choices he makes, the choices he doesn't make, and the choices he fails to make in time.
The Todoroki plotline features almost none of its character making any choices of substance, and because of that the plotline says the right things over and over again, but it all comes off as tell don't show.
I'm going to quote @codenamesazanka's post right here a couple of times because they describe the complete failure of the Todoroki plotline to show us a reason why we should be feeling things for the characters artfully.
We've heard Enji say this before - I'm sorry, I intend to atone. It's indeed the right thing to say, it's exactly what he should be saying and acting. Natsuo is declaring no contact - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. Touya calls him a coward - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. The public hates him - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. But you can only hear this so many times before you want to snap and beat the character, the story, the writing over the head with Enji's wheelchair. Why is that? He's behaving exactly as he should, and yet...
The reason why it fails to evoke strong feelings is because of what we'd called "narrative dissonance." The actions of Bruce and Enji are the same, they both neglect to do anything, make any real attempts to reach out to their victims because they're paralyzed by guilt.
However, we are told that they have entirely different arcs. Bruce's arc is a tragic fall. He's failing as a hero. While we are being told that Enji is experiencing an arc of atonement. Enji is supposed to be improving himself, and Bruce is supposed to be experiencing negative character development but they both do the exact same thing in story. Bruce neglects Jason, we are told by the story, by the characters in the story that Bruce is failing Jason. Enji does nothing in time to actually atone for Toya or try to help him, yet, we are told again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again that Enji is atoning with nothing substantive to show us this is the case.
To show what I meant instead of telling this scene is in chapter 252.
This scene is the ending point in chapter in chapter #426.
It's just him repeating the exact same sentiment and yet in a more than 150+ chapter gap, Enji never made any action to show he was now placing his family first. Enji didn't say anything to Dabi when he revealed himself as Toya. Enji didn't look for Toya in the months before the final war arc. Enji literally appeared on live TV in a broadcast that Toya was watching and said the very selfish "Watch Me" atone for the crime of creating Toya instead of literally talking about Toya or too Toya. Well, that would have rocked the boat too much... THAT IS LITERALLY THE POINT. Enji had to somehow break from tradition or make some significant sacrifice onscreen to his social standing to show that he's willing to put his family first. Enji decides to go along with Hawks decision to not face Toya head on, making the decision to be the hero for the final time which directly causes Toya to get up after Shoto brings him down non-lethally and make one last attempt to suicide bomb for his father's inaction.
Bruce does nothing for a long time in Under the Red Hood. He ignores his initial instinct that Jason came back and instead makes a long investigation on whether or not someone can come back from the dead in order to distract himself. When Jason takes the mask off, Batman already knew but was pretending otherwise because he didn't want to face the reality.
Even when Jason takes his mask off, Bruce still takes on the "I need to investigate this" angle even though Jason calls him out that deep down he already knows it's the truth. This of course foreshadows Bruce's underlying flaw, he doesn't want to face Jason head on because he feels too much grief about what happened to Jason and his guilt is more important than Jason's own grief. Just as the father has lost the son, the son has lost the father.
What follows is several chapters of Batman fighting crime as usual and making no attempts to directly search for Jason. They cross paths a few times but when they do Bruce doesn't follow. In fact, Bruce only shows up when Jason sends Bruce a sample of the joker's hair and Bruce knows that the Joker has kidnapped him out of Arkham. Bruce almost lets Jason get killed by Black Mask because he doesn't know whether to stop Jason or save him yet again, and then they have their final showdown where Jason has kidnapped the joker to demand Bruce kill him, and Bruce finally attempts to talk him down.
Out of context it sounds like I'm describing the same plotline, to the point where if you haven't read either, it looks like I'm complaining baselessly. Why is one hero doing nothing until it's too late good, and the other bad? The difference is of course context, or rather framing. Bruce's actions are called out by the people around him (Dick, Jason, Alfred) as him handling the situation wrong. Whereas both Enji's internal monologue and other characters say that he is doing his best to atone for his actions and deserves a chance, but the events we are shown in story are the exact opposite.
Here's another example to SHOW my point. Here's Dabi with my special, hardcover edition of under the Red Hood.
I reread the entirety of the fourteen chapter plotline and the majority of internal narrations come from characters outside of Bruce observing his behavior and commenting on how differently he's acting. Jason's backstory for instance is told by Alfred, not Bruce. Dick Grayson the first Robin comments on Batman's odd behavior. The rest are the third person narrator. Bruce has four instances of internal monologues spanning a few pages each in a 378 page story. (Alfred has the most internal monologues and he's presented as a more trustworthy unbiased narrator than Bruce, to get us to question Bruce's actions).
"Information travels on many routes, sometimes it comes predictably like the tides. You just need to know where to stand and meet it. Other times it's elusive and you have to root through the garbage to find it. In the last few years I've come to rely on Barbara Gordon, Oracle, we all did. Utilizing every form of surveillance equipment she has been the eyes and ear [...] but those days are over. I can't rely on anyone anymore. [...] and tonight it's also about the company I keep. It's different with him [night wing] out here. I think about when he was younger, when I was younger, it was different, simpler and I miss it. I miss those days, for that it's hard to be around him.
This first internal monologue is a case of unreliable narrator, because as soon as finishing it Dick Grayson / Nightwing shows up, offers Batman his help and while Bruce at first refuses it the two of them are forced to work together to fight Amazo. What does this show us? Bruce is not alone, but Bruce actively acts like he's alone ignoring the feelings of the other people around him. It exhibits a flaw of Bruce and the bad headspace he is in mentally (if I remember correctly Stephanie Brown recently died in the comics while this storyline was being published. It establishes Bruce's improper coping mechanism with grief, and how he is going about it the incorrect way.
Bruce says I work alone, and then Bruce says it's easier working with Dick, I miss it, but I can't go back to those days. It's bruce's contradictory thinking patterns in the same chapter that stop him. it's bruce's fault he cannot connect to Dick, and he is actively mourning the past because his relationship with Dick has changed.
Now the final part of the monologue in that chapter.
He's quick. Not just fast, agile. He's not thinking about his next move, he's just making it. He's been trained well. And there's something about him. Something familiar. There was something interesting about before he cut the line, before it had been taught. That had to have been practiced. Either that or just plain dumb luck. No it's not luck.
This is the first hint that Bruce already suspects it's Jason from early on but is in denial about it. This unreliable narrator trope also gives an agency to Bruce's decision, he is actively choosing to ignore the possibility that it's Jason because it doesn't want it to be.
Whereas, a lot of Endeavor's plot takes away any agency from him. For example, he doesn't even know that Dabi is Toya, because if he had the sneaking suspicion and ignored it like Batman did that might have made him look bad. We can't have the main character in a tragedy looking bad now can we?
The second monologue is more denial.
That device is from Kord industries. I should know. Ordered it special from them. How can he have it? No more dead ends. No more questions. No more guessing. Tonight I find out what is passing for the truth.
Reading between the lines this is outright confirmation Batman already knows.
The third is a brief reflection in his feelings for Jason.
The armor has to be light enough to fit but strong enough to protect. But sometimes a great many times, it's not strong enough. It wans't strong enough for Barbara who has to fight from her chair. It wasn't strong enough for Stephanie, other dear soldier enough dear grave. And it wasn't enough for Jason. Willful Jason. Who ignored the danger. Who spat at risk. Who was never frightened enough. I've always wondered... always... was he scared at the end? Was he praying I'd come save him? And in those last moments when he knew that I wouldn't. Did he hate me for it?
This monologue directly shows without stating it outright, Bruce is prioritizing his feelings of grief and failure mixing them in with his genuine grief over the loss of a son. it's selfish of him, but grief is a selfish emotion.
Here's the thing Bruce is allowed to be selfish and to not have the correct reaction to his grief, because the whole story is centered on Bruce being unable to get his shit together in time, and this picture into his emotions is an explanation as to why. Bruce is afraid of being hated by Jason. Jason of course has every right to hate him for failing as a father, but still I think not wanting to be hated to a person you loved so much and feel genuinely sorry over what you let happen to them is an understandable reaction.
Meanwhile we have Enji saying repeatedly all the right things in his monologue, the selfless, I don't need to be forgiven, it's okay if they hate me, I just need to atone but he never actually does anything. There's no explanation for why he isn't doing anything either, so that narrative dissonance. We're shown why Bruce doesn't act in time, he's internally a mess to be frank. We are not shown why Enji doesn't act in time because his internal monologue tells us again and again he's committed to atoning and he understands what the right thing to do is.
As Codenamesanzanka says:
Enji is still saying all the right things, but the story isn't giving him the opportunity to actually do the right things. To have his new actions matter. I have no doubt about his sincerity in his mantra, but without the 'show', it's hollow. Similarly, "Let's talk" is actually kinda bullshit too, because it's so vague. This is less about Enji, and more about the writing, how it set up this scene. "Let's talk" or "I want to talk" or any of that variation is repeated 6 times, without anything more or specific added.
There's an excess of repetition of Enji saying he wants to atone, he's ready to atone, without any of that materializing in the story.
As @class1akids says in this reaction post:
It also feels also super-hollow to say he's sheltering the family from the fallout, after they've just talked about how Fuyumi lost her job (and got a new one through the connections she herself built). How is he going to do that?
The fourth because I don't want to write it down, it's just Batman monologueing on how his partnership with Jason is still good and explaining the technical details of his fight with count Vertigo. It's in chapter 10 if you must look it up.
So four monologues total. Two monologues establish indirectly that Batman knows that Red Hood is Jason and doesn't want to face him. The third monologue establishes why he doesn't want to face him, he's afraid of being hated. The monologue is in line with Bruce's actions in the story, Bruce investigates several ways of reviving from the dead instead of looking for Jason.
The character's reactions around Bruce are also talking about how he's not acting like himself. Especially Alfred's who speaks of Bruce's indecision, on whether to put a stop to or save Jason.
"It is curious. He is lost in thought. It is not like him to spend vast stretches of time immobile, where his mind is gripped in the solitary process of deduction. This is quite different. He is hesitating. At a loss for what to do. I believe it is about Jason. And whether or not to stop him or save him."
This is illustrated in two scenes later where Jason spends a long time simply watching when Jason is fighting enemies, first in a fight against Captain Nazi, and second Black Mask. Jason even gives a direct callout of that behavior.
Jason: What the hell took you so long? Couldn't decide if you wanted to let me live. Batman: Shut up and fight.
Observed by Alfred Bruce is completely stalling and can't choose, observed by Jason Bruce can't decide whether to let Jason live or not. Bruce hesitates twice. We know why. We see it in action. It's called out as flawed behavior.
Now let's cover all the tell that don't show that is Endeavor's many monologues.
Pro Hero Arc:
I have to safeguard the future for them. That's the job for whoever's on top. What about the lives I cut short? Just demanding forgiveness isn't enough, it's too late for that. At this point I need to atone there's no other route.
Hellish Todoroki Family 1:
I'm trying to make ammends going forward. It might be too late. but I fall asleep every night thinking about it. Lately it's been the same dream. The wife and the kids looking happy at the dinner table. But I'm never there with them. It might be too late but I fall asleep every night thinking about what I can do for my family. I wish you could be here too, Toya. It's always the same dream. My whole family's there but not me. If I really care how they feel [I'll remain here].
I'm not going to read 200 chapters so I'm just going to ballpark it based on memory. Here we go.
Dabi's Dance:
My eldest, Toya didn't harbor frost within him. He didn't have a way to overcome the inescapable downside of overheating but I nevertheless sought to raise the boy as a hero. [...] Because Toya had more potential than me I placed my ambitions on his shoulders. I thought it could be you. You could have been the one to reach my eternal goal. My frustration... My envy... The ugliness in my heart... you could have been the one to smash it all to dust.
Plot twist this is the only monologue I like. It's different from all the others, and it's the only one where Enji is being emotionally honest. He put the emotional burden of his own emotional insecurities on an eight year old child, and expected to live vicariously through him and when Toya failed to live up to those expectations he just abandoned him. It alligns what we have been shown so far, Enji is not acting like a reptentant man here who realizes the harm he's done to Toya and only thinks of Toya as an extension of himself and his own regrets.
The Fight Against AFO:
My mistakes took the form as Toya leading to many stolen futures. The past never dies. Rage, resentment and even penace wound together toward the future. And the future is a path for the young. A path with so many branching choices. That's why I must win this. [I'll keep paying my penance. I'll win today and keep my eyes on Toya.]
When Enji decides to double Suicide with Toya:
I take full responsibility. I swore to bear the burden and live my life atoning for it all. However, you've been watching me all this time. While I couldn't be there to watch you. You were someone I especially needed to do right by. No I can't let you meet your end alone, but I won't let anyone else get caught up in our tragedy.
Hellish Todoroki Family Final:
I came to talk about what's to come. I'm retiring as a hero. That was my initial plan even before the war started, but now I can't even walk on my own. The hero endeavor burned to death. Your flames were really stronger than mine. [...] You're right. You know everything about me, Toya. After all you were always watching me. And you wanted me to do the same for you, but I didn't. Not matter what anyone says your heat does come from my hellflame. From now on I'll come everyday, so let's talk. It's too late now, so let's talk. [...] You're free to hate me. Anything is fine really, so throw it all at me.
This one is spoken dialogue but it's still a four-page long monologue. Every one of Enji's monologues with one exceptionsays the same thing: I'm sorry, I'll spend the rest of my life atoning for my actions.
We're repeatedly told Enji is atoning but he acts like Batman. Then, his actions should be framed as Batman, not atoning but avoiding any responsibility.
As observed by Class1akids when we were discussing the update:
Everyone else faces an uphill struggle with their lives, but we should all feel sorry for Enji atoning and being in hell. I hate Hori's compulsion to over-write his abusers and over-explain their atonement. He does this with Bakugou too but with Enji it's more irritating. It was so much more enjoyable when he just wrote the thing but didn't point at them and say -> look, they are atoning. Aren't they soooo cool??
Enji's internal monologues and the other characters frame him as some sort of martyr, while on the other hand it's clear by both Batman's actions and Alfred's observations he's not acting like his usual self. In fact, this is an interpretation of Under the Red Hood that I love from the writers of the video game Arkham Knight that does a less tragic retelling of Under the Red Hood:
Batman doesn't fight victims. He saves them.
Therefore if Batman is fighting Jason, a victim, he's not acting like Batman. I'm also fine with Arkham Knight being an Under the Red Hood retelling because it's a different story. Comics do this all the time, different universe versions, popular storylines adapted into different mediums. It also works as a commentary on the original story, by showing what Batman could have done to lead to a more positive outcome it makes Batman's choices in Under the Red Hood worse and more tragic because he could have saved Jason, there was still a chance.
So here we have two flawed tragic heroes who are meant to be both pitied and condemned for their actions. One of them is all pity with no condemnation. The other is both pity and condemnation, Batman is grieving, but also he's failing his responsibility towards Jason. Therefore one protagonist works, the other fails utterly.
I'm not saying abusers don't deserve redemption. I'm not saying Enji should have died in order to atone. I'm not saying that the underlying problem with the arc is that they decided to make Enji sympathetic and a focus of the arc. The most important problem is the breaking of one of the fundamental rules of storytelling: Show, Don't Tell.
The Tragic Villain
Not only does The Hellish Todoroki Family plotline fail to make Enji a compelling protagonist, it also fails it's biggest victim. Now, these are both stories that end with the hero failing to save their victim. So if both of these stories have the same ending, why am I saying it failed Dabi, but not Jason?
Well, let me explain.
Dabi and Jason are both villains turned victims. The stories themselves are about this ambiguity. How much should the be held responsible for their own choices? If they are actively harming innocent people, then shouldn't they be stopped? Should they be automatically be forgiven just because of the pain and grief they've suffered, even if they've been causing it to others?
Both characters are also reflective of their fathers because they are too being selfish in their grief, they want their grief acknowledged and so are violently lashing out.
Jason and Dabi both make plays at being vigilantes at first, Dabi wants to inherit Stains will, and Jason Todd wants to be a better bat-man by taking control of the drug trade in Gotham and cutting crime down by executing gang heads. However, neither of them are being honest with this and it's shown through their actions, both of them abandon their original plans.
In the final showdown all Toya cares about is facing Enji on the battlefield, and when he's on the brink of death his mind erodes to the point where all he can do is scream for Enji's attention while his flames get hotter and hotter.
Let's take about Jason first and how his narrative treats him a whole lot better and more sympathetically, with more humanity than Batman. Jason is still held responsible for his choices, he is criticized by Bruce for murdering gang leaders and passing it off as justice. He's also blatantly shown to be a hypocrite. My favorite scene from Red Hood: Lost Days, the official UTRH prequel.
"I want to kill the joker in a cool way. Just sniping the Joker from a rooftop isn't dramatic enough for me."
This scene, and the final scene of UTRH underlines Jason isn't executing criminals because he believes it's the right thing to do, or because of his stated motivation that killing the joker would prevent more future victims.
Instead his every action is to set up a scenario where he makes a selfish demand of Bruce. He wants Bruce to prove to him that he would choose him over being a hero, by setting up his final scenario. Him, the Joker, and Batman. Jason will shoot the Joker. Bruce has a gun. He can either choose to let Jason kill the Joker, or kill Jason to stop him, either way it makes it clear what Bruce's priorities are.
The underlying reason for this is similiar to Bruce. Just like Bruce, Jason is deeply afraid that Batman doesn't love him. That he thinks of him as a failure. (This is Toya's main reason too).
He also interprets Bruce's failure to avenge him to mean that Bruce didn't even care enough to mourn him. If Bruce loved him enough, he'd choose him over the joker, but he's so afraid that Bruce doesn't love him enough that he's going to force Bruce to choose.
Along the way he's also going to behead several crimelords in order to put an exclamation point on that point.
The way Jason completely unravels in the confrontation shows this insecurity, he begins with monologueing about how batman should totally kill people, until his fear that he wasn't important enough, and his grief at losing his father is revealed.
Batman: I know I failed you, but I tried to save you. I'm trying to save you now. Jason: Is that what what you think this is about? Your letting me die. I don't know what clouds your judgement worse, your guilt or your antiquated sense of morality. Bruce, I forgive you for not saving me. Jason: But why on god's green earth is he still alive? Ignoring what he's done in the past. Blindly, stupidly disregarding the whole graveyards he's filled with people. The friend's he's killed. I thought killing me - that I'd be the last person you ever let him hurt. Jason: If it had been you that he beat to a bloody mess. If it had been you he left in agony. If he had taken you from this world. I would have done nothing but search the planet for this pathetic pile of evil, this death worshipping garbage, and sent him off to hell.
Direct statement, it's irresponsible of Bruce to let Joker live after killing Jason and should have put him down to prevent future victims. Reading between the lines, Batman not taking revenge for Jason is a sign that he didn't love him enough, Jason loves Batman more because he would have taken revenge.
As the confrontation continues and Jason's mental spiral worsens, to the point where he can't keep up his pretense of self-righteousness.
Jason: I'm not talking about killing cobblepot, or scarecrow, or riddled, or dent. Jason: I'm talking about him. Just him. And doing it because...he took me away from you.
The father had lost the son, and now the son had lost the father.
Jason's revenge is just a cover, for his grief at losing Bruce. I think this also shows a really positive aspect of Jason's character to humanize him instead of condemning him for his actions to ignore or even justify the suffering he endured: Jason really loves Bruce.
I mean how meaningful is the statement: "Bruce, I forgive you for not saving me."
Bruce has been afraid to hear the whole time that Jason hates him, that he won't forgive him, but Jason loves him deeply. In fact his love is almost equal to his rage because Jason is a deeply emotional person, and these little details make him human and not just like a plot obstacle that Bruce has to face. A metaphor for his past failures.
Dabi is drawn as a crying boy who wants comfort, Jason is shown to be a crying boy who wants comfort through both dialogue and action without us directly needing to be told. It's a heartbreaking line and doing it because he took me away from you and it lands perfectly because the narrative wants us to just look at Jason's grief. It doesn't add an asterisk* even though he was in pain, he's done unforgivable things that can't be justified to undercut Jason's suffering.
In fact that might be another underlying problem with The Hellish Todoroki Family, the narrative tries too hard to make you feel a certain way instead of just presenting things as they are to make you come to your own conclusion. UTRH doesn't support Jason's revenge based serial killing of villains. It doesn't say he's justified to cut off the heads of mobsters. However, it doesn't excessively state "Well, I'm really sorry what happened to you but what you've done can't be forgiven" so we don't have to challenge ourselves to feel too much empathy for Jason's suffering.
Meanwhile even when Toya tries to express his rightful anger and grief, we're always met with someone shutting him down and saying well yeah, but you're wrong, involving innocent people is unforgivable.
As said by @stillness-in-green in the replies to this post:
I think so much harm (in-universe, but the state of the Twitter fandom makes me think the messages are pretty toxic irl, too) comes out of portraying the Heroes as needing to weigh in on the *morality* of the Villains' actions before they gauge "saving" them, when that is not a thing that glorified cops have any business thinking they have the right to do. Demanding repentance before the rehab is so bizarre.
You can say someone's actions are wrong without using it as a factor to consider whether or not their suffering as a human being should be acknowledged, and like I said there's multiple instances of people just yelling at Toya how immoral he is instead of addressing the elephant in the room.
You're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong.
(Okay, I understand that some people have interpreted this as a show of Honnae and Tatamae, the Todoroki's who are a very repressed household are finally talking about their feelings even if those feelings are selfish and ugly).
(I'm not criticizing Shoto for saying that the people he killed were his own choice necessarily, Shoto is a character who's actions need to be read more deeply than his words he was dedicated to bringing Dabi down without him burning himself any further start to finished. My criticism lies in the fact that Hori uses Shoto as a mouth piece because he thinks we need to be reminded that murder is bad).
However, even acknowledging that time and place man, time and place. They couldn't have done that in the aftermath, when Toya isn't burning to death?
Hey buddy, you're being selfish.
Toya: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I'M MELTING, I'M MELTING.
This is I feel the underlying problem with the way the arc is written, not because the Todorokis are a very traditional Japanese family and there are cultural reasons they express their emotions differently, I'll give a caveat to that it's a nuance I might not understand.
However, I am arguing the actual problem is tell don't show. Horikoshi thinks that we as an audience need to be told multiple times that murder is bad, and we cannot be trusted to interpret that on our own.
Under the Red Hood shows both sides of Batman and Jason's debate, and let's us just come to the conclusion that Jason is in the wrong because revenge isn't justice. Horikoshi reaches no shit sherlock levels of telling us that we're not supposed to approve of Dabi's murders.
it's also a matter of giving Dabi narrative space to express his feelings, like every time Dabi tries to talk he is continually shut down (Shoto does engage Dabi talk to him and listen to why he didn't come back though I'll give him that) and it seems to be to push forward this weird idea that you shouldn't sympathize with the pain Dabi has endured or the ways he's dehumanized unless he does something to prove he deserves to be treated like a human being first.
Jason gets to monologue and make an entire argument, and his argument also shows the depths of his love for Bruce and what a deeply feeling person he is, and how those feelings being hurt and twisted could logically lead to his lashing out.
Compare this to Dabi who doesn't get a final monologue, but is instead reduced to a completely mindless state where he just cries out for his dad's attention. He doesn't get to make his argument.
Jason and Dabi both choose to blow themselves up, but Jason gets enough character agency to show this is a deliberate choice he's making even if it's the wrong one. He retains his character agency and ability to make decisions until the end of the narrative.
Jason's also you know physically crying. The end result of the narrative is about wrong choices that both Bruce and Jason make together, and then suffer the consequences together. Bruce watches the same failure play out again and he isn't able to save Jason, Jason doesn't get what he wants, he doesn't get revenge and he doesn't get to reunite with his father. It's tragic for both of them, and brought about by decisions both of them made.
Whereas yes Dabi makes a lot of bad decisions leading up to the last war arc, but in the end his final fate is up to a choice Enji made to not face Toya in the final battle.
However, while the final consequence of the battle is brought about more by Enji's decisions than Toya's, it's Toya who endures all the suffering and punishment. It's Toya who is in an iron coffin, and doomed to slowly and agonizingly die with all of his skin burnt off unable to move. Toya doesn't even get agency after the arc is over. Enji still has a wheelchair, Enji can still move around, Enji's still fucking rich, he's not in prison for his actions, he as Rei wheeling him around.
Toya's agency and choices are all taken from him, presumably to serve the plot purpose of making Enji save him to finish off his arc, and then ENJI DOESN'T EVEN SAVE HIM.
Also I think it's important to mention, Bruce's tragic ending is brought about by him attempting to save both, trying to save the joker and Jason with the same action. Whereas Enji's tragic ending is brought about by Enji NOT LIFTING A FUCKING FINGER TO HELP. Yet, it's Dabi who has the lion's share of suffering, and is sentenced to this horrific state of being skinless in an iron coffin and only being able to be awake a few minutes a day with no choice but to waste away.
Bruce is also immediately called out for his actions, by the Joker of all people, you handled this all wrong, it's your fault. Bruce is right to not kill the joker, killing the Joker would not have solved any of Jason's problems, but the fact that he put off facing Jason for so long, and his inability to communicate that he loves Jason is what leads to Jason thinking that the only way to prove Bruce loves him is to force him to choose. It's because Bruce has utterly failed to show him in any other way that he is loved.
Joker: Oh my god, I love it! You manage to find a way to win, and everyone still loses. I'm going to be the one who gets what he wants tonight, badda bing, badda boom."
I'd also like to add that a lot of agency in Enji's actions are taken away too, to make him look more blameless. It's not Enji's fault that he didn't say anything to Dabi during Dabi's dance, he passed out because he had a punctured lung. It's not Enji's fault that he spent a month protecting Deku instead of searching for Toya, he had to protect innocent people. It's not Enji's fault that he didn't go immediately to face Toya in the final war arc Hawks told him not to.
It's not Enji's fault that he made Shoto and Toya fight like Pokemon instead of cleaning up his own mess, and also he feels really sorry for it and as soon as he's done punching the bad guy he'll look after Toya he promises.
Enji does get called out for this behavior but it falls flat because it only comes from the villain AFO, and Toya himself. As I stated above too, the ending is more influenced by Enji's actions not Toya's (because Toya's agency is stripped away until he's mindless) but Toya is the one who has to die while Enji gets to live and atone.
That is the real sticking point for The Hellish Todoroki Family, the way it ends.
Themes Are For Eight Graders
The underlying problem with the whole arc and why The Hellish Todoroki Family fails as a tragedy, is because it wasn't written to be a tragedy.
The above quote is from an interview with the writers of the widely hated Game of Thrones Season 8, which took a sudden tragic turn for Dany's character, gave her an incredibly dehumanizing ending of being put down like a rabid dog by her own lover, an ending that was neither foreshadowed nor did it match with anything written before.
In this meta here by @hamliet it goes far more into depth that Game of Thrones isn't a tragedy, but a piece of Romantic fiction (not a love story, Romanticism is a genre of big emotions, the beauty of life, larger than life ideas hence why it fits well with fantasy genre, it can be sad but it doesn't follow tragic structure).
Dany is a romantic heroine, a deconstruction of the idea of the classic warrior princess trope, and you know a colonizer, but she's not meant to be written as an inherently bad person. There are people who say that Dany was going to die in the original books. I'm one of those people. Me. However, context and framing matters, Dany for all her colonizing ways does genuinely want to do the right thing, so it's likely she'd die a heroic death as a reflection of her selfless intentions (and intentions do matter for fictional characters) whereas in the show she's put down as a villain.
Now watch me I'm going to coin a term for future literary critics to use: Narrative Gaslighting.
Narrative gaslighting is different then Show Don't Tell, where an author has just failed to properly show what they're trying to tell you in the story. Narrative Gaslighting is when a narrative deliberately tries to mislead you, straight up lies to you, or just insists things that did not happen totally happened guys. Much like real gaslighting, Narrative Gaslighting makes you feel stupid for interpreting things a certain way and insists you were wrong all along.
Narrative gaslighting is when Tyrian gives a speech that everyone should have suspected Dany when she burned slavers alive that she was secretly evil and would one day turn on them.
Like, no.
Dany is flawed because she is a foreigner, interfering with the politics of a different country that she does not understand in order to gain enough resources and men to return to her home country and invade that country to exercise her right as a Targeryn to uphold the divine right of kings.
Game of Thrones doesn't mention any of that shit that's in alignment with the previous actions in the story, it's just insisting the very ableist notion that Dany was insane all along and her violence towards other people is the result of her mental illness.
(Also before anyone says, so if she's a colonizer than how can she have good intentions, everyone is Bad in Game of Thrones, they're all waging war to vie for a throne, monarchy is bad guys. IDK how to tell you that Game of Thrones has gray on gray on gray on gray morality).
(Also this aside ties into the hangup of MHA and most popular fandom culture on Twitter, that Dany's moral failings somehow disqualify her from her humanity. In spite of the fact that on top of all of that she's a rape victim, and like, Dany's only on that continent in the first place because she was sold as a bride.)
But here's the same weird subtext that Horikoshi's writing of Dabi. The fact that Dabi was continually victimized and denied human dignity does not need to be addressed, because he did the bad things and didn't atone properly enough for it first.
In essence this random post on the gunnerkrigg court forums I found on the same day the chapter came out, displaying apollo's gift of prophecy.
"When someone is persecuted, it's important to inform everyone about their flaws. That way you don't have to feel anything about all the times that they were denied human dignity."
So, Dany is not written as a tragic hero but a romantic one, we as an audience are both meant to acknowledge her flaws and sympathize with her, not demonize her in an ableist way for being insane, and even if Dany is meant to die the tragic way she dies does not match up with all of the narrative foreshadowing that was built before that.
Like, for instance a lot of POC after the show ended kept telling everyone that Dany's actions in a foreign country were seriously problematic, and not only did the audience not listen but the showwiters didn't acknowledge it with the same subtlety as the books. So those people especially were able to pick up Dany's character flaws, and when the show finally acknowledged them it's not even in the way that critiques of the show were pointing out Dany's flaws it was just "she was insane all along." Not like taking time to go "no matter what the intention, interfering with the politics of a foreign country is wrong."
The problem with the Todoroki arc is essentially the same, down to the ableism (because outsiders continually call Dabi either a maniac or insane Demon without even giving credence to his grievances about hero society he's just reduced to an insane fringe element of society, and Dabi himself is reduced to a completely mindless, childish, insane screaming state where he can't make active decisions).
The Todoroki Arc is not set up to us as a tragic one. The ending is pretty clearly telegraphed to the whole audience. People are not wrong for thinking that Toya's ending would be either rehabilitation like Rei with the eventual hope of being welcomed home, or some kind of house arrest where he still gets to be with his family.
Everyone happy at the Dinner table and Enji not sitting with them.
"I wish you could be here, Toya."
"We all have to go stop, Toya."
"In that case, I'll make him sit down for a bowl with me."
Even Shoto's efforts to take down Toya non-lethally are rendered completely pointless, because Toya gets back up again and then burns himself alive (completely by his own choice so no one has to feel bad that they failed).
The story sets up the expectation that Toya is going to be brought home and sit down for a meal with his family. Then it makes you feel stupid for going in an entirely different direction. It was always going to end this way didn't you know The Todorokis are a tragedy?
Well, I just spent a very long section of this thesis statement illustrating that if it's supposed to be a tragedy, then it's still not written well.
It's a written as a romantic story of a family healing, and the villain getting saved, only for the villain not to be saved and the story to just keep on going like not getting saved isn't a huge failure. This is something that should permanently destroy the main characters, that they got the chance to repeat Sekoto peak and be there this time and they all utterly failed. I feel bad for Shoto most of all because he did everything right, and he still loses his brother, but does the story show that?
The problem is the story is blatantly lying to you about the fact that Toya was somehow saved, even though he LITERALLY LOOKS LIKE HELLRAISER. To quote Codenamesanzanka again:
But I feel the story couldn't give us that because it will remind the reader and everyone just how much Touya will be missing. In-story, talking any more will overburden Touya's heart - and how apt is that metaphor? So let's talk about how we'll talk, but that's all that's allowed here for this scene. Else we'll see how unfair it is that Touya has to be confined to this room, he isn't with his family and they have to come to this prison just to tell him about their day, and soon he will be gone. Details make it real, and it would've exposed the lie that Touya was saved in an actual way. The story knows it too - "this extra time Shouto gave us." This is all 'extra', and not the core. [...] If the story was sincere that this is a case of "it's simply too late" - as it should be!!! imo, to really drive in the clear point that they failed, they did not get the save they wanted, because that's the truth - the tone of the chapter isn't tragic enough for that. The tone is going for 'Making Peace With This'. We've skipped the stages of grief and all we have is acceptance. The characters have accepted this, and so must the readers as well.
Therefore it's narrative gaslighting, the story is making us doubt our perceptions and trying instead to manipulate us to feel a certain way. We don't have to question the unfairness of Toya's fate, because look at all the people he's hurt, and look how Enji is atoning and taking responsibility.
The story builds up the idea that Enji will choose Toya. That he will choose being a father over being a hero. Enji doesn't do that, and it's Toya who suffers the horrific, painful consequences while Enji gets off mostly scott free. Mind you it's also ableist to suggest that being in a wheelchair is some sort of life-ending consequence like he's fine. The story even goes out of its way to say how avoidable this ending could have been if Enji or Rei or someone lifted a single finger to give Toya the acknowledgement he wanted, and then gives it a "Too little, Too Late" conclusion but doesn't acknowledge that this is where it's ending and instead tells us that Enji has successfully atoned.
"Everyone's watching me. So this is what it's like. If it was such a simple thing, then why not sooner?"
If it was going to turn out this way Toya should have just died here, not because death would somehow be a mercy compared to life in prison, but because the Todoroki Family doesn't deserve to get to pat themselves on the back. If they let Sekoto Peak happen a second time, then they should have to deal with the consequences of that.
It would be consistent is my point. This is written as a "Too Little, Too Late" kind of ending, but we don't get the emotional response from the Todorokis that they've let Toya die a second time.
On the other hand, UTRH has the exact same tragic ending but it doesn't make me angry because it's honest about it. The Todorokis let Sekoto peak happen a second time. Batman let Death in the Family happen a second time, but look at how even the narration and comic panels of the story acknowledge it.
"Fate is a funny thing. It swells up like a raging current and we are forced to travel. It provides us no exit. No deviation. It drops us in a bottomless ocean and compels us. We either swim, or drown, and sometimes as we struggle against the tide, a great truth arises."
One ends with Enji meaninglessly stating that he'll spend the rest of his life atoning for Toya and watching over him (which I guess will be like two months tops) for the fifth time. The other ends with Batman being lectured by the Joker of all people of how he chose wrong and being forced to watch once again as a warehouse blows up, and he's completely helpless to save Jason.
UTRH ends with the message that Batman sucks, Enji's atonement arc ends with Natsuo calling him cool for atoning and UTRH makes me like Batman way more as a character. Whereas at this point I feel nothing from the Todoroki Family, except for a disgust for the way that Toya not only has to die, but has to die a slow, gruesome death while the rest of his family walks away with the small comfort of "oh at least we'll get to say what we need to say before Toya passes."
Especially with the fact that Toya's greatest fear was that when he died, he died meaninglessly because his family never grieved him and all moved on with their life. I guess we don't have to analyze how gross the underlying message that criminals don't deserve to be sympathized with because themes are for eighth graders.
EPILOGUE
The post is finished but apparently everyone expects me to cover every single possible angle even in posts this long.
You didn't address the cultural aspect. Under the Red Hood is a western story, and Todoroki Family is based on eastern concepts.
The post isn't about that. The post is long enough I can't cover every single topic. Here's someone who covered that topic thoroughly. This one discusses more about the nuances of collectivism.
Also, since the Todoroki Family obviously copied Under the Red Hood's homework, it warrants a comparison. Especially since it seems to critically misunderstand what made the original work.
Which is a valid form of Literary Criticism, as Ursula K Le Guinn once said:
It doesn’t occur to the novice that a genre is a genre because it has a field and focus of its own; its appropriate and particular tools, rules, and techniques for handling the material; its traditions; and its experienced, appreciative readers—that it is, in fact, a literature. Ignoring all this, our novice is just about to reinvent the wheel, the space ship, the space alien, and the mad scientist, with cries of innocent wonder. The cries will not be echoed by the readers. Readers familiar with that genre have met the space ship, the alien, and the mad scientist before. They know more about them than the writer does.
The Todorkis aren't all to blame for Toya. Natsu, Fuyumi and Shoto are innocent:
You're right. It's just easier to refer them as the Todorokis then specifying "Enji and Rei" each time.
You didn't mention Shoto once in this post:
I have no cricism for Shoto's role in all this. In fact I think he's the best written part. I praise it here.
Shoto is a good boy, and he deserved to spend more time with his brother. The fact he won't be able to sit down and have dinner of him, is the greatest tragedy of them all.
#DC#Batman#Under the Red Hood#My Hero Academia#manga#anime#the Hellish Todoroki Family#comparison#opinion#criticism#analysis#bad writing#they wasted a perfectly good character#they wasted a perfectly good plot#however#I disagree#misaimed fandom#completely missing the point#anti kohei horikoshi
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Jake Seal Black Hangar - 6 Tips to Avoid Shocking Mistakes as a New Director
Becoming a director is an exciting journey filled with creativity, passion, and, inevitably, challenges. Jake Seal from Black Hangar has seen his share of successes and failures in the film industry, and he understands the importance of avoiding common pitfalls. Here are six essential tips to help new directors navigate their careers more smoothly and avoid shocking mistakes that could derail their projects.
1. Prioritize Pre-Production Planning
One of the most crucial steps for any director is thorough pre-production planning. This phase sets the foundation for a successful project. As Jake Seal Black Hangar emphasizes, taking the time to outline your vision, budget, and schedule is essential. Create a comprehensive storyboard and shot list to visualize how the film will unfold. By doing this, you minimize the chances of last-minute changes that can lead to chaos on set.
2. Communicate Effectively with Your Team
Effective communication is vital in any collaborative environment, especially in filmmaking. As a new director, establishing clear lines of communication with your crew is critical. Jake Seal from Black Hangar advises directors to be approachable and open to feedback. Hold regular meetings to ensure everyone is on the same page and address any concerns before they escalate. A united team will be more likely to work harmoniously, which is essential for a smooth production process.
3. Embrace the Art of Delegation
As a new director, it can be tempting to micromanage every aspect of the production. However, trying to control everything can lead to burnout and mistakes. Jake Seal from Black Hangar encourages new directors to trust their team members and delegate tasks appropriately. Surround yourself with talented professionals who can handle specific responsibilities. This not only empowers your crew but also allows you to focus on the creative vision of the film.
4. Stay Open to Creative Suggestions
While having a clear vision is important, it's equally crucial to remain flexible and open to creative suggestions. Filmmaking is inherently collaborative, and sometimes the best ideas come from unexpected sources. Jake Seal from Black Hangar believes that new directors should create an environment where team members feel comfortable sharing their thoughts. Listen to your cinematographer's insights or your production designer's suggestions. You might discover fresh perspectives that elevate your project.
5. Anticipate Challenges and Plan for Contingencies
Every film production will face challenges, whether it's budget constraints, scheduling conflicts, or unforeseen technical issues. Jake Seal from Black Hangar stresses the importance of anticipating potential problems and planning for contingencies. Create backup plans for critical elements, such as locations and equipment. Being prepared for the unexpected will help you maintain your composure and ensure your project stays on track.
6. Reflect on Your Experiences
After completing a project, take the time to reflect on the entire process. What went well, and what could have been done differently? Jake Seal Black Hangar Studios emphasizes that self-reflection is a vital part of growth as a director. Consider keeping a journal to document your experiences and lessons learned. By analyzing your work, you’ll be better equipped to tackle future projects confidently and clearly.
Conclusion
Becoming a successful director is a journey filled with learning opportunities and challenges. By following these six tips from Jake Seal at Black Hangar, new directors can avoid common pitfalls and set themselves up for a rewarding career in filmmaking. Prioritize planning, communicate effectively, delegate wisely, remain open to ideas, anticipate challenges, and reflect on your experiences. With these strategies, you'll be better prepared to navigate the complexities of directing and create compelling films that resonate with audiences.
Embrace your journey as a director, and remember that every mistake is an opportunity for growth. With dedication and the right mindset, you’ll find your path to success in the dynamic world of filmmaking.
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