#trying to show the dichotomy of him accepting his death and that he deserves it

[bunnieswithknives]

*kills you to death*

[bengiyo]

Be My Favorite Ep 9 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Kawi was forced to accept the finality of his dad’s death (again), and also faced himself and Pisaeng properly. He’s fully-revealed his time travel shenanigans to Pisaeng. Kawi is trying to end things with Pear, and asked Pisaeng to go out with him. Also Max gave a speech at an LGBTQ event and committed to staying Thailand.

I like coming back to the sushi date and reiterating that Kawi has to choose to be responsible with alcohol. It’s also nice to see Pisaeng enjoying a moment.

Oof, Pear’s mom deserved that gut check.

Oh, Pisaeng, don’t set up a false dichotomy between the band and yourself at the beginning of your relationship.

I feel a bit nervous about Pisaeng drinking instead of Kawi.

Aye is so good. You can feel how long Pear has been holding this resentment.

Oh, I really do not want them to kiss like this. Why is every single one of their kisses fueled by alcohol?

Wow, this show just made me glad that a Krist character blocked a kiss.

I don’t care for Not. His first instinct is always to tear someone else down.

I do like when one of them knows the other is staring and pretends to keep sleeping to let them have it.

Kawi’s desire to take their relationship seriously, and to hold back on taking advantage of Pisaeng’s wealth so they can find a way to be more equal in their relationship is really just so nice to see.

I despise Not. Kwan and Pisaeng, we need to have a talk about the kinds of guys y’all like.

See, and this is why I hate Not. He took coming out away from them. This is so gross and so cruel. I’m over this dude. Pear has to come here and force the issue herself, and now Kawi has no chance of letting her down easy.

Not said, “No, I will not Make It Right.” I’m so sick of this dude. Kwan, you deserve better.

If Pear really gives it up for this dude, I may revolt.

Kawi’s concern for others reminds me of Akk in The Eclipse. Just like in the Our Skyy 2 special, there’s a similar thread about living our lives for other people or for ourselves as a major source of tension.

Pear just put that nasty little dude in his place! “Stop talking about OUR friends and stop sniffing around me.”

Pisaeng is right that Kawi can’t see a version of the future that isn’t bad. There’s no way to exist long term as a queer person in this world without hope.

Looking forward to the dating era next episode, and I want to unpack that Kawi is reading Sherlock Holmes

Okay, real shit, we gotta do right by my girls Pear and Kwan before this is over. Pear’s issues with her mom are so real, and I can’t see Kwan go out like this!

[girl4music]

Comment by @LaineyBug2020: “You keep saying that's not Willow, but that she's actually thinking the things she's saying. You're right on both counts. This is Dark Willow. She is a part of Willow as a whole. We all have that Darkness inside of us, no matter how good we try to be. This was illustrated by how easy it was for Willow to let the magic take over. She repressed a lot of herself when we first met her. Joss is showing us why we shouldn't do that. Remember how easily she was led to the demon that got released into the computer?

Remember how she never dealt with her feelings with Xander and let herself get involved in an adulterous relationship? Until now, she kept herself so repressed that anytime she tapped into more power, you would see her eyes turn black.

Then, when tragedy strikes, she’s so used to repressing that she just represses the part of herself that feels anything but vengeance. Vengeance is a powerful place to exist, much more powerful than grief. Grief is powerless. She has let herself be powerless for too long.

When we deny parts of ourselves, all we do is create imbalances and extreme dichotomies. Two extremes can't share the same place, so that's when dissociation occurs. Dark Willow is completely dissociated from her humanity, so there is nothing to temper the base impulses or intrusive thoughts.

Which is why she says what she says to Dawn.

Eventually (without spoiling too much) we get to see White Willow, the other end of the spectrum. But we don't get to see it until Willow learns how to honor, balance and thus control every part of her.

Joss uses this theme with Oz's arc when he has to leave to connect with his wolf so he can control it.

He also uses it with Spike vs Angel. Angel is a represser and a brooder. He shuns the 'Angelus' part of him when he is cursed with a soul, to the point where Angelus is able to keep secrets from him and be a constant threat. Spike accepted his Demon nature and learned to be good with it instead of in spite of it when his ability to harm people was taken away. He fought for a soul with his Demon nature fully participating so there was never a danger of him losing his soul. There was a blip he faced with The First, but he faced it right away and became stronger for it.

Even Buffy has to do this. Faith is an example of what can happen if we repress. Buff struggles throughout the show's run with honoring every part of herself to stay balanced and powerful. Especially after she's brought back.

That's what we can take away from this theme. Feel and honour every part of yourself. We are complex, but when in balance, we are POWERFUL.”

👏👏👏👏👏

Wonderfully fucking said. Wow!

One of Willow’s most repressed traits is sadism. Vampire Willow expresses and exhibits it with abandon. But there’s a reason why she’s one of the most sadistic vampires that we ever get to see in the Buffyverse.

It’s not because of the demon who took over Willow’s body. It’s because of Willow. Willow’s repressed sadism is something I love talking about because it’s such a fascinating subject when it comes to her characterisation.

You witness tidbits of it every now and again but it’s used for light humour. To break the tension in the narrative. We never think much of it until it’s used for a different purpose such as here.

Iconic Willow one-liners like “Occasionally, I’m callous and strange.” And “If you hurt her, I will beat you to death with a shovel.” and “He deserves a torturous and slow death by spider bites.”

Innocent funny one-liners or repressed sadism? Yes.

She was never as innocent or pure as she seemed. There was very much a storm brewing inside of this one and Season 6 said let it rain!

And it’s probably the best fucking payoff of all the built-up character representation and development in the entire show. I adore it.

[theregoesmylurkerstatus]

Caleb has, verbally, shown so little bloodthirst regarding the people who wronged him. He doesn’t know how he feels. He doesn’t know what he wants. He wants them to change, he wants the pain to stop. He wants to rehabilitate all these murderers under Ikithon because he was one of them and he wants to believe he’s not alone in this, he wants them to get better.

He also takes three steps into the place where he was sealed away like some kind of animal, full of simple (if skilled) guards who are so much lower on the food chain than the assassins Caleb knows... and for the first time ever he starts crushing people to death. Gone is the soft talk and hesitant hope. He asserts that they knew what they were doing. That they were not innocents.

He spent eleven years there. He can’t remember it. He also can’t think of the people who did that to him as people, whether they were actually the ones that guarded him or not.

I think Caleb’s trauma and his ability to react with extreme prejudice when confronted with it often gets underestimated both by the audience and Caleb himself. There’s a really interesting dichotomy that seems to go on with him, in that we’re constantly taken somewhat aback by these breathtaking displays of violence of his, even though they keep happening.

I realised it when we first met Astrid, actually. I don't know about anyone else, but the revelation that Caleb’s reaction to watching his parents die wasn’t running in to help them, or screaming himself, or even dissociating, but was instead attacking his peers? It surprised the heck out of me.

I don’t think anyone thought that would have been his reaction. All the pieces of fiction or art or meta about that moment that I saw assumed he had a much more passive or help oriented reaction. Even the cast themselves animated that moment as Astrid and Eodwulf stoically walking away from a silent Caleb on his knees in their own animated title sequence.

The fact that we all accepted the image of Caleb, on his knees, silently watching his family burn, is interesting to me. Because I do get why.

When Caleb is forcefully reminded of that moment of extreme grief, he dissociates. He doesn’t react violently when lost in his trauma in that particular way. Add to that that Caleb brushes over the immediate aftermath of his parent’s deaths, which makes it seem like his foggy, clouded state in the Asylum was the instant result of his trauma, and the idea that Caleb reacted passively to his parent’s deaths is a very easy assumption to make.

At this point I believe it’s also indicative of how Caleb sees himself. Caleb hates (hated?) himself, yes, but he doesn’t actually seem to see himself as a violent person. When asked to impress a high level mage from an alien culture, he chose the versatile reskinned Bigby’s Hand, Cat’s Ire. When trying to be intimidating, he uses his words, or points to his friends as threats, or uses Frumpkin as a prop.

He doesn’t seem to give his ease with violence much thought or weight in his own view of himself. I think he assumed he was passive during his years at the Sanitarium, and so therefore assumed that his “breaking” was similar. And if that’s what Caleb thought of himself, why would we think any different?

People don’t tend to think of Caleb as a fighter, least of all Caleb himself. The common view of him is that he’s a hesitant support character. He’s not someone who fans or other characters alike would easily call “bloodthirsty,” especially with him confronting and discussing the man who ruined his life and refusing to commit to killing him.

Everything about how Caleb verbally approaches these traumas shows that he’s not vengeance driven. Revenge has never been part of his game plan, never been something he cared enough to pursue. And because of that palpable lack of bloodthirsty vengeance, because of his soft spoken, cautious demeanor, Caleb is not someone who would generally be picked as having extreme, unrelenting violence as his knee-jerk reaction.

Except that’s exactly what Caleb does when backed into a corner. That’s like his biggest move. Wall of Fire and Fireballing Avantika and her crew on a hair trigger? Bleeding, on the verge of unconsciousness, out of spells, and still managing to deal the killing blow on Lorenzo because he chose violence over any other action? Opening the final fight against Obann by smashing through the window and burning half the cultists to death, because they were that desperate to get Yasha back after two failed attempts?

He woke up after eleven years of being addled, confused and not himself, and immediately killed a guard and broke out of the Assembly’s own Saitarium in the heart of Rexxentrum. He unexpectedly got stabbed by a full-fledged Scourger, and his instant reaction was to beat her over the head with a rock. 

And now, he’s infiltrated that same Sanitarium where he was kept only to flip from his desire to redeem those under the Assembly’s thumb to murdering half the people he came across in there with extreme prejudice.

His lack of interest in long-term vengeance is interestingly balanced by his frequent choices to pursue short-term retribution. It’s both his way of protecting his friends and himself, removing the threat and discouraging other threats, but it’s also, in my view, frequently an outlet for his heavily suppressed anger at the people who hurt him and his friends.

Caleb can be a good diplomat, but Caleb rarely chooses to be a diplomat. Caleb can be charming, but Caleb doesn’t like being charming. Caleb can be a good support caster, and Caleb is a support caster! But when he’s too compromised for strategy, when he stops thinking, he starts burning everything in his way. Because Caleb? He likes the way fire feels.

Caleb spent his formative years training to respond to conflict, physical or political, with lethality, and on a much more fundamental level, he is and always has been a man of action. 

He took action to get out of the Sanitarium as soon as he was capable. He took action in the Bright Queen’s throne room, made a risky ploy instead of letting them be arrested. He wanted to take action retroactively against his parent’s deaths the second he regained coherency.

Despite what we all assumed, doing nothing in the face of his parent’s deaths was never an option for Caleb, and he wasn’t taught anything that was going to help his parents once the house was on fire and the screams started. So what else was he going to do, after two years of growing into the Scourger mould? When he loses his mind, his ability to think, two of his reasons to care?

Of course it was violence. Of course it was lashing out at the people he must have thought, on some level, as being in his way. Of course it was fire. What else would it be?

And though these circumstances here aren’t the same... there are enough similarities. He’s once again in those familiar halls (in that familiar mindset) where he was treated as a weapon, nothing more. He’s with the people he loves and he knows they’re in danger, again. In fact, they’re in danger from the same people he spent eleven years feeling threatened by, that he viewed as obstacles, whether consciously or not.

He doesn’t want his loved ones to be in danger. He doesn’t want to be surrounded by the guards who he associates with his own helplessness. He especially doesn’t want those two things to go together. And he has never been able to sit idly by when he can act. But what kind of actions can he take? What can he do to get these guards away, away from him, away from his friends, out of his way, right now?

The tried and true method. Not burning, not here, not now, let’s not set a building on fire with his loved ones in it again (though it happened anyway). But no matter. He’s learned a lot of tricks in the last few months.

And hey, don’t worry, Caleb’s not angry. He’s not still working through his own pain and rage at these people. He really does want to heal, not hurt.

It’s just that these ones deserved it.

[thevictorianghost]

The ATLA Comics and the Character Assassination of Zuko’s, Aang’s and Katara’s character arcs (in one page!)

Thank you to Emma/jerkbendinq on Twitter for providing me this image!

Look. I knew the ATLA comics were bad. I’d heard, per example, about what they’d done to the Southern Water Tribe. And, especially, the glorification of industrialization in a world where bending exists, which leads to Northern Water Tribe imperalism and colonization. Others have talked about this in depth and have the tools to talk about these topics.

But THIS! THIS I want to talk about!

Let’s start with this. I know nothing about the context of this scene. But I don’t need context. Because there is SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE. 

But we do, John Mulaney.

Oooooh, but we do. 

I have too much time on my hands.

I felt so viscerally pissed when I read this that I decided to write this meta. 

So here we go.

Let’s analyze this. Line by line.

Zuko: If you ever see me turning into my father, I want you to... I want you to end me.

Aang: What?!

Up ‘till now, not that bad. Aang’s character’s integrity is kept intact for the moment. Remember the pacifistic monk who didn’t want to kill Ozai? I think he’s here in this reaction. 

Aang: No, I'm not gonna end it like this.

All right. 

But the emphasis on the words end me make me really uncomfortable. This doesn’t feel like Zuko talking. Somehow, these words feel like they could fit more coming out of Azula’s mouth than anyone else’s. 

Azula: You mean it’s not obvious yet? I’m about to celebrate becoming an only child!

But we’ve barely started.

Let’s continue to the next panel.

Zuko: Even now, after everything that’s happened, my family’s legacy is still a part of me.

I’M SORRY??!? 

Is this somehow a bastardized version of this scene from The Avatar and the Firelord??!?

Iroh: Because understanding the struggle between your two great-grandfathers can help you better understand the battle within yourself. Evil and good are always at war inside you, Zuko. It is your nature, your legacy. But, there is a bright side. What happened generations ago can be resolved now, by you. Because of your legacy, you alone can cleanse the sins of our family and the Fire Nation. Born in you, along with all the strife, is the power to restore balance to the world.

(I don’t particularly like this dichotomy either. Good and evil aren’t battling within Zuko. It’s his struggle between doing the righ thing and doing the wrong thing that is. But whatever. I’ll let THAT slide.)

What happened to the “bright side” in the comics?? What happened to the power Zuko has within himself to restore balance to the world?? His entire character growth somehow doesn’t matter anymore because of his father’s and his forefathers’ legacies? The “good” in him doesn’t matter anymore?? 

What happened to THIS scene?!

Katara: You mean, after all Roku and Sozin went through together, even after Roku showed him mercy, Sozin betrayed him like that‌?

Toph: It's like these people are born bad.

Aang: No, that's wrong. I don't think that was the point of what Roku showed me at all.

Sokka: Then what was the point?

Aang: Roku was just as much Fire Nation as Sozin was, right? If anything, their story proves anyone's capable of great good and great evil. Everyone, even the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation have to be treated like they're worth giving a chance. 

Or this?!

Zuko: For so long, all I wanted was for you to love me, to accept me. I thought it was my honor I wanted, but really, I was just trying to please you. You, my father, who banished me just for talking out of turn. How could you possibly justify a duel with a child?

Ozai: It was to teach you respect!

Zuko: It was cruel! And it was wrong.

Ozai: Then you have learned nothing.

Zuko: No, I've learned everything! And I've had to learn it on my own! Growing up, we were taught that the Fire Nation was the greatest civilization in history. And somehow, the War was our way of sharing our greatness with the rest of the world. What an amazing lie that was. The people of the world are terrified by the Fire Nation. They don't see our greatness. They hate us! And we deserve it!  We've created an era of fear in the world. And if we don't want the world to destroy itself, we need to replace it with an era of peace and kindness.

What happened to Zuko’s stand against Ozai during the Day of Black Sun?? What happened to Zuko’s entire character arc from Book 2 onwards?? Suddenly, because he has his father’s blood in his veins, he’s doomed to carry his legacy? What happened to Zuko creating his OWN destiny, to change the world??

Sigh.

This wasn’t the most insulting line in that entire paragraph, though. 

THIS WAS.

Zuko: That’s why it’s my duty to heal the scars that the Fire Nation has left on the world.

I BEG YOUR PARDON?!?

NOTICE THE EMPHASIS I PUT ON THE WORD SCARS?!?

They keep comparing Ozai with Zuko THIS ENTIRE TIME. He’s terrified of failing the Fire Nation. He’s terrified of failing the world. He’s terrified of failing Aang and the Four Nations.

Zuko is terrified of becoming his genocidal abusive father.

AND SUDDENLY THEY BRING UP SCARS??!?

SCARS??

FUCKING SCARS???!?

(But we’ll come back to Katara.)

Let’s keep going or I’ll combust on the spot.

Zuko: But the Fire Lord’s throne comes with a lot of pressures.

Two things about this line.

First of all. It... bothers me that Zuko uses the term “the Fire Lord’s throne” instead of “my throne”. It’s like he still hasn’t accepted he’s the Fire Lord. Zuko’s throne doesn’t feel like it belongs to an individual who is allowed choices in this scene. It’s like he believes he’s all the Fire Lords who were his predecessors. And knowing that he thinks he carries his family’s legacy like a weight on his shoulders... that doesn’t bode well.

And second of all. Where is Iroh in all of this? What happened to Iroh’s mentorship? His kind words to remind Zuko that he can rake control of his own destiny? Is he still in Ba Sing Se? Taking care of the Jasmine Dragon? Has he completely left Zuko alone, enough so that the only person he can ever confide in is Aang, who has Avatar duties to fill?

What happened to this?

Iroh: You know Prince Zuko, destiny is a funny thing. You never know how things are going to work out. But if you keep an open mind, and an open heart, I promise you will find your own destiny someday.

Or this??

Iroh: I was never angry with you. I was sad because I was afraid you lost your way. And you did it by yourself.  And I am so happy you found your way here.

(Can anyone give Zuko a hug?? Please??)

Or even THIS??

Iroh: No. Someone new must take the throne. An idealist with a pure heart  and unquestionable honor. It has to be you, Prince Zuko.

Zuko: Unquestionable honor? But I've made so many mistakes.

Iroh: Yes, you have. You've struggled; you've suffered, but you have always followed your own path. You restored your own honor, and only you can restore the honor of the Fire Nation.

Oof. Okay. Let’s keep going.

Zuko: And if I’m being honest with myself... I need a safety net. The world needs a safety net. That’s what I need you to be, Aang. The safety net.

Again. Two things about this line.

What does Zuko mean when he says “the world needs a safety net”? What does he think ending him will accomplish for the world? Zuko’s DEATH could leave an opening for Ozai to take the throne! Because again, Aang has refused to kill Ozai in cold blood! As Iroh has said MULTIPLE TIMES by now and as Zuko has said himself, HE CAN RESTORE BALANCE TO THE WORLD TOO. It doesn’t all revolve around Aang. 

Speaking of Aang, here’s the second thing. Of course, Aang is the Avatar. But he himself alone couldn’t end the war during Sozin’s Comet. Zuko and Katara, Suki and Sokka and Toph, and the Order of the White Lotus all participated. Why should Aang be the only one to take this godawful decision? Why??

What happened to cooperation?? What happened to the Four Nations working together to end the Hundred Year War?? 

On to the next line.

Aang: Zuko, you're not your dad! And you're my friend! How can you expect me--"

One more time. Two things about this scene.

First of all, I’m going to be sarcastic, here. Forgive me, but I have to. 

Thank you, Aang, for pointing out that Zuko is NOT his father and that YES, you ARE his friend. 

Let’s go back to Aang’s speech at the end of the Avatar and the Fire Lord.

Aang: And I also think it was about friendships.

Toph: Do you really think friendships can last more than one lifetime?

Aang: I don't see why not.

Sokka: Well, scientifically speaking, there's no way to prove that...

Katara: Oh, Sokka, just hold hands.

If friendships can last more than one lifetime... why do you have to remind Zuko that you’re his friend, Aang? At least you’re not considering downright killing him and you don’t want to do this, you know!

Does that mean that if he wasn’t your friend and that if he was like Ozai, you’d kill him, though? Is that what you’re trying to say? Because the LAST time you were confronted with the idea of killing someone who WAS LIKE Ozai, oh no wait, who WAS Ozai, you said this!

Aang: This isn't a joke, Sokka! None of you understand the position I'm in.

Katara: Aang, we do understand. It's just ...

Aang: Just what, Katara? What?

Katara: We're trying to help!

Aang: Then, when you figure out a way for me to beat the Fire Lord without taking his life, I'd love to hear it!

What happened to that? 

Hm?

Next line. Once again.

Zuko: As your friend, I'm asking you -- if you ever see me go bad, end me. Promise me, Aang.

Again with these characters having to remind each other that they’re friends! Do you stop being friends while travelling the world and have to remind each other that you’re friends once you meet again? Is that it? (/s)

But that’s not what’s bothering me about this line.

What has Katara said since the beginning of this page?

Absolutely. Nothing.

And this line simply states that Aang is Zuko’s friend. But what about Katara? Are they still friends? They don’t interact much. She barely looks at him this entire page. They don’t talk. This whole scene is about Zuko and Aang. What is Katara doing here? Why is she here?

Oh. Wait.

The ONLY THING Katara does in this entire page...

When Aang looks at her, wondering what to do...

SHE NODS.

SHE. NODS.

She gives Aang the push in the right direction to... wait for it...

MURDER ZUKO WITH HIS BARE HANDS!

Is this supposed to be a callback to THIS scene??

Katara: You might have everyone else here buying your ... transformation, but you and I both know you've struggled with doing the right thing in the past. So let me tell you something, right now. You make one step backward, one slip-up, give me one reason to think you might hurt Aang, and you won't have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I'll make sure your destiny ends... right then and there. Permanently.

Then what happened to this??

Or this???

Katara: I didn't forgive him. I'll never forgive him. But I am ready to forgive you.

Not only is it that KATARA AGREES TO MURDER ZUKO, she does it while being ENTIRELY SILENT. She never talks. She only nods. Katara has been reduced to become Aang’s silent advisor. 

What happened to THIS girl??!

Katara: I will never, ever turn my back on people who need me!

Or THIS girl?

Zuko: Katara! How would you like to help me put Azula in her place?

Katara: It would be my pleasure.

Or THIS girl?

Katara: ZUKO!

THIS GIRL?

THIS GIRL??!?

(*Bangs head against keyboard*)

And on to the final line. The nail in the coffin.

Aang: ... Fine. I promise.

There we are. He’s accepted it. He’s going to do it if he has to. He’s promised, right? Aang just... gives in. At least Aang doesn’t look thrilled at the idea of doing this. Which isn’t what I can say about Katara. Who looks damn ready to end Zuko right now if that’s necessary. Not that she says anything. 

But the simple fact that they are, THE THREE OF THEM, considering this SUICIDE PACT... 

...is infuriating.

Then we end with a view of the starry night sky as fireworks come to life.

Yeah, right. Sure. Talk about reading the room here, folks.

So let me recap ALL OF THIS.

Zuko is a character who has been abused for years by his father, burned at the age of thirteen and sent on a quest to find the Avatar. During the show, he learns that he doesn’t have to obey his father, that he can make his own choices and create his own destiny and legacy. He’ll be the new Fire Lord who will usher the Fire Nation in an era of peace, helped by Iroh and his friends.

Aang is a pacifist who refuses to kill Ozai, Zuko’s aforementioned abusive and genocidal father. Killing is not the answer for him; he desperately wants to find a way out, enough so that he gets into a fight with his friends about the mere idea of killing Ozai. He values his friends dearly and learns that the world doesn’t only rely on himself, that he has friends he can count upon. 

Katara is a warrior girl who doesn’t back down from a fight. After many trials and trebulations, after being betrayed by Zuko and forgiving him in the end, she has become one of Zuko’s closest friends and allies, especially in their fight against Azula. She’s not afraid to voice her opinions and will never turn her back on people who need her.

But according to the comics... none of that seems to be true!

Or didn’t we watch the same show?

What happened to all of that? What happened to these characters?

I dunno.

You tell me.

[eternalcantarella]

Entropy - Chapter 1: Siege - Joker/Reader

Entropy

 Summary: We all seek for some measure of uncertainty. Working against the mob is a dangerous game, you might as well be signing a death warrant. You would think it was all by a stroke of chance, the multiple run-ins with Gotham’s Jester of Genocide. When crooks begin to make more sense than do-gooders ― that’s anarchy. He’s no ordinary crook, however. And he’s still wrong. At least that’s what you'd like to tell yourself.

 Word count: 10.4k

 A/N: First entry, just felt like contributing something to the Joker fandom. This fic is multi-chaptered, and the main pairing in this is Joker/Reader. TDK/Ledger Joker specifically. We follow the story of our reader who is a junior data analyst working in the corporate world, trying to expose Lau for the fraud he is. Of course, meddling with the dichotomy of lawful good and evil would naturally lead to her butting heads with the Joker sooner or later. Somewhere along the way, she is left questioning the validity of her moral code and ends up trading answers with the Joker himself. The goal, of course, is to prove each other wrong. I didn't feel like creating another original character, so I used John Blake from TDKR for her colleague. Apologies for the non-canon compliance regarding John Blake. Rated T for now, but will probably be escalated in future. Gonna be pretty slow burn with build-up, if you're into that. Enjoy!

Available to read on AO3! Check my blog description for link to my AO3.

###

“That is why I propose that we continue this joint venture between Lau Security Investments Holdings and Gotham Press Holdings.”

  The lone presenter clasped his hands together, ending off his presentation.

  “I firmly believe that it is in both our best interests to do so, and it is what’s best for business.”

  Reservedly, a light smattering of applause pulsated through the board executive room. You looked pointedly towards the man to your right, typing furiously into his laptop. Chewing your rose-stained lips while you collected your thoughts, you knocked a pen absently against your coffee cup. Subdued murmurs and discussions could be heard as a low rumble across the room, not long before the presenter opened the floor up for a question and answer segment. Multiple hands shot up, competing for the attention of the corporate powerhouse.

  The room smelled a mixture of two distinct smells, cologne and freshly ground coffee. You recalled that you had silently muttered a ‘thank you’ to no one in particular earlier this morning, when you found out the ancient coffee maker had been replaced. Perhaps the company was lucky enough to have bosses who listen to their employees’ caffeine needs and have no problem shelling out for a new and improved machine. The room was painted a bluish gray from top to bottom, with tall glass windows teetering on the edge of an unhindered view of Gotham City.

  You sat round a large conference table with people whose suits probably cost more than your monthly rent. Board meeting perhaps would be the right name. Dress shoes, egos, no smiles that weren’t plastered on, or opinions unfiltered enough to contribute anything significant to the discussion. A conglomeration of people who almost deliberately attempt to create the most monotonous environment and experience for working possible.

  “Eight percent annual growth, huh. A little too good to be true.” 

  You craned your head towards the young man beside you while maintaining your gaze on the data projections presented on your laptop screen. You received a hum of assent in response to your subdued remark. The sound of his dry hands rubbing contemplatively against his chin accompanied afterwards. The tapping of your pen got harsher and more deliberate, as you narrowed your gaze on the lone presenter, none other than the founder of Lau Holdings himself. 

  The data simply did not make sense. Even with the vast economic expansion of China, the numbers seemed at least a little bit inflated. Your hand tensed as you shifted forward in your seat, smoothing out your blue pencil skirt. Your partner seemed to have caught sight of this. His hand darted to press over yours in a flash. Slightly startled, you flashed him a look of annoyance. 

  “Now listen, we’re not here to change anyone’s minds, calm down.” 

  Seemingly easy-going, his soft words still conveyed an undertone of warning. Indignancy blossomed in your chest as you clenched your jaw shut. Your findings and suspicion over the past months were almost in fruition. How dare he tell you how to do your job. You gave one last defiant glare at your coworker and then whipped your head around, zoning your focus in towards Lau. You raised your other hand and caught Lau’s gaze, as he gestured an open palm towards you. 

  You regarded each other coldly, his eyes devoid of any signs of sincerity save for an icy smile for the sake of pleasantries. As you stood up, you could see from the corner of your eyes that your partner had so kindly sank back in his chair defeated, resting his elbows on the table with his head in his hands. A little too melodramatic for your tastes, even for someone like you.

  “Thank you CEO Lau for the wonderful speech. I’m going to cut to the chase and raise an issue here. Frankly speaking, your powerful economic potential, while surely enticing to keep working with, is a little concerning.”

  Lau’s smile showed cracks in its facade. Perhaps this was an unexpected little wrench in his plan. Somehow you took victory and pride in gaining a reaction, no matter how small, out of a cold and calculative man of his calibre, and it took all your will and strength to maintain a stoic composure without your lips curling into a slight smirk.

   “Surely your company had to have had a hefty tax levied on this revenue you’ve raked in. Not to mention, upon further assessment it seems that Wayne Enterprises has yet to conclusively accept your business proposal to them. Not to throw insult to your endeavours, but is this as promising, or stable, as you make it out to be?”

  Perhaps you are assimilating to become one of them, the beautiful people, what you called them. Perhaps you had let your ego show a little bit too much. But you’d be damned if you didn’t feel badass standing up to a multinational company giant like this, in front of other multinational company giants. It’s not every day you let an opportunity like this be passed.

  You felt a collective shift of heads as you suddenly felt about ten pairs of eyes lock onto you, but it felt like ten thousand. Under the magnifying glasses of scrutiny, you felt like you were encapsulated in a glass display as you were studied and picked apart by higher forms of life. You were an alien. An alien who spoke a language they refused to understand and come to accept. A pregnant silence fell over the room and the stares were too much. It was as if they had a morbid fascination with you, patronisingly waiting to watch you fail. Incredulous smiles of pity and disbelief that they failed to hide were spotted on a few in the crowd and you felt the dread pool in your stomach. You tried to maintain the puff of your chest but your fidgets merely deflated it, as you kept your gaze straight on the presenter, unable to look him in the eye.

  You could see a visible twitch of his neck as you stared at his grey dress suit, straining a smile on his face. His breath had seemingly gotten heavier and he tongued the side of his mouth, clasping his hands together. He cleared his throat, and only then had you mustered the courage to look him again in the eye. Subtle shades of malice roamed dangerously behind his onyx eyes.

  “I will say this once and once alone. We are undoubtedly a legitimate business. And I will not stand for anyone questioning the integrity of my establishment.”

  This was a threat. No doubt. You felt hot and humiliated, and nothing beats being shamed in front of the board of directors, speaking of whom, shared panicked glances shifting between each other before one of them dismissed the meeting. It was a walk of shame as you and your partner were singled out by a hand gesture to the front of the room, while everyone sashayed past you, their glances lingering far longer on you two than what was necessary, with the CEO of Gotham Press Holdings watching you reproachfully. A reprimanding was in order, you supposed. CEO Lau had been escorted out of the executive meeting room by other directors in hopes of coaxing him to calm down. You and your partner you’ve unintentionally dragged through the mud stilled in front of the man in control, CEO Loeb.

  “Did I hire you to do something so incredibly stupid? For God’s sake you two are here to take care of our financial transactions and fill up board meeting spaces. Nothing more.”

  The bite was stinging. It felt like you had been slapped across the face. The welling of tears could be felt behind your eyes but you refused to let them show. You stared at your chief executive officer’s forehead, with shallow lines that ran horizontally across them. His brows which resembled caterpillars were furrowed deeply as he found it difficult to find the right words to say to you without uttering a string of expletives, which you admittedly did deserve. You buried your gaze deep into his crown of white hair as a form of distraction and you hoped dearly that he would show just a shred of mercy.

  “Financial Consultant Blake, I hope you understand your place and educate your little Junior Data Analyst lady friend.”

  Your coworker clenched his fists and nodded.

  “You young people always have an inflated sense of self-importance. Keep your mouths shut next time and this is the last warning. Keep treading on thin ice, both of you.” 

  With that, he stormed off, leaving you and your partner. The chestnut-haired man, at a loss for words, shifted his weight and looked at you. He tried to say something, but refrained from doing so upon seeing your pathetic state of emotions. You desperately tried to keep it all together, the rage of indignancy staining a crimson tint on your face and embarrassed mortification flushed against your neck hotly.

  “Listen, John…”

  He looked down and placed a hand on your shoulder, an obligatory act of comfort towards you despite feeling quite frustrated himself. Tears beaded at the corners of your eyes as you blinked them away. You will not cry. You were a strong woman. A mantra you meditated whenever you felt the urge to break down.

  “I’m, uhm, just really sorry. Really sorry that I dragged you into this. I... I’m just so goddamned naive and selfish. And I don’t know why, but I just-”

  You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, before reopening them, willing the constricting feeling back down your chest.

  “I just felt the need to prove something.”

  He let out a huge sigh and pat his hand two times soothingly on your shoulder. As if to tell you it was okay, but he was still mad. He brought his other hand to his temples and closed his eyes. His jaw shifted around absently, possibly to ease the tension that was there from clenching it too tightly. There was really nothing much he could say to you. After all, he did warn you, but he was nice enough not to say ‘I told you so’.

  After getting the apology off your chest, the humiliation subsided slowly like a beach wave into a dull headache. You took your hand to his wrist and squeezed the top of it reassuringly, to let him know you would be okay eventually. He took this as a sign for you both to take your leave, away from the sterile walls of the meeting room that seemed to cave in on you.

  As you turned round the corner of the large glass doors of the meeting room, you nearly bumped into the CEO of Lau Security Investment Holdings. It had seemed that he had left something behind in the room. You were face to face with him, widening your eyes and noting to yourself that he was a man of short stature. There was a brief moment where time seemed to slow down around the two of you and you two were the only ones on this plane of existence. There was nothing but a look of disdain on his face. A subtle twist and contortion of his face, the corner of his lips tightened and raised on one side of his face. His eyes were devoid of any spirit, seeming to look through you instead of looking at you. Nothing but pure unadulterated disrespect and contempt for you. Small and worthless you were, this was your standing in this world of beautiful people. You were fundamentally different from all of them. Fundamentally loathsome.

  And you’d be damned if you didn’t confront this head on. 

  You hardened your gaze with eyes of defiance with lips suggesting the hint of a snarl. Something about the look he gave you re-ignited the flame within you snuffed by shame, and it showed through your eyes. 

  And just like that time sped up for you, and you were thrown back into the normalcy of the rush of office life. John Blake watched you and let out an audible groan.

  “You really don’t know when to give in do you, kid?”

  While visibly frustrated, a little smirk played at his lips, clearly amused at you and the turn of events in spite of himself. 

  “Always bursting in, castle crashing like the siege engine incarnate you are.”

  Clicking your tongue in annoyance at this long-time God awful nickname bestowed upon you by none other, you hastened your speed with strong strides, having done nothing but prove that nickname to be characteristic of you today. He kept up the pace, noting to himself that you had gotten over yourself and more or less returned back to normal. You took the meeting card from today out of your pocket and bent it, snapped it into two halves and discarded them into the bin you walked past. You needed to forget this incident. Clipboard and laptop hooked onto an arm, you prodded at your updo then pulled at the hem of your white blazer. Gussying did help ground you back to reality in providing you with a sense of unfounded control. 

  “We aren’t going to take this lightly. We need to get to the bottom of this. Lau一Lau is going to ruin this place.”

  Alarmed, John Blake grabbed your shoulder and wrenched your form to face him, stopping you in your tracks. He stared at your eyes scanning and darting his eyes around your face for any signs of whether you were serious or not. It dawned on him that dear god, you weren’t kidding at all. Before he could start on his tirade that the two of you couldn’t even dream of changing how things worked in this company, or the world for that matter, you shrugged yourself off his grip.

  “Don’t you forget why you teamed up with me, John.” You raised your voice slightly. 

  “Don’t forget the reason you launched Blake Accounting Consultancy. Need I remind you of what you believe in?”

  Jarred by your emotional declaration, he knew what you said were mere rhetorics. He noticed people were starting to stare at the commotion between the two of you, thus he resumed a slow walking pace with you. You kept observing his internal dilemma, noting the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, and how his perpetually furrowed brows deepened even more. You needed his help. And he needed yours. As your walking speed hastened back to normal, the people at the reception area took fleeting glances at your gait but never longer than needed. You took a short glimpse at your watch and signed out of the register with Blake.

  The self-assured clacking of the heels on your pumps down the descent of the stone steps, marking the entrance of the imperial office building, was a pleasant familiarity to you, as it signaled the end of an exhausting work day. It was especially empowering on a Friday, such as this one. At the base of the steps you awaited his answer. Clearing his throat and adjusting his tie, he stepped onto the same level as you.

  “Alright, you’ve convinced me. There’s no point in doing this,” he pointed between the two of you, “And our arrangement if we don’t do it right. You are my partner after all and you’re here to keep me from losing sight of what’s important. To the both of us.”

  You smiled and felt the warmth blushing across your cheeks. Yes, he had hand picked you for this job and he was so confident you were the right one. You restrained your smile to revert back to a professional feminine composure and tilted your head coyly.

  “Then I don’t need to tell you why we’re doing it the right way, do I?”

  “For hope in the goodness of Gotham. This generation’s gotta do some cleaning up after our very thoughtful predecessors.”

  The crinkle in his eye after he spoke was all the reassurance you needed. After being given a satisfactory answer, you gave him a knowing look and turned away from him as he began tapping hurriedly into his tablet. As undignified as John Blake could appear to be at times, you had to hand it to the man. He was worthy of your respect and had been nothing but an inspiration to you. The two of you shared more things in common than most and provided each other an intellectual challenge. Of course, mostly one thing was considered upon deciding on this mutually beneficial partnership in business. And it wasn’t because you two were sleeping with each other, despite common belief. Before you began walking again, you asked.

  “What do you reckon our plan would be right now?”

  Still fiddling with his tablet, he stalled on his answer for a few seconds. Clearly mapping something out in his head, you turned back to give him your full attention. 

  “We’re heading to Gotham National Bank. Let’s just say, there’s been minor speculation that it’s been involved in activities not short of... illicit. Yes, I suppose that’s how we’ll put it.” 

  He treaded carefully.

  “Now, the companies we work for, both Gotham Press Holdings and Lau Holdings, have some shares in this bank. The catch is, it would be incredibly difficult to prove Lau’s activities as fraudulent.”

  Seemingly defeated, Blake hung his head and rubbed the back of his neck. However, he peeked his eyes at the building in front of him, a smugness quirking at the corner of his lips.

  “Fortunately for us, they didn’t call me a forensic accountant for nothing.”

  Beaming at him, you grabbed at his forearm shaking it a few times, giddiness bubbling inside of you, before letting it go. For you, there was nothing but a mischievous glee, the kind that feels like icing on cake and splashing at beaches. All this for one shared vision. The two of you were visionaries. To this, his smile was that of happiness blooming as a spring flower would. You could see it coming from inside of him to the light of his eyes, and spreading across his chest. He was happy to see you filled with hope, and you could feel it in the way he spoke and the way he relaxed. It was nothing short of genuine. You bubbled up and joked around with him.

  “John, frankly speaking, is this even legal?”

  “It depends.”

  You felt the excitement die down a little bit as you realised the seriousness in his tone. It was replaced by an uncomfortable premonition pervading your senses. You gave him a look, pressing him to tell you more.

  “I meanㅡTechnically we could do this. We have enough authority to access banking information. The problem is if they come to know we had been snooping around.”

  “Oh my god John are you really sure about this-”

  “You just have to trust me, we have to take a risk. Just as I have taken a gamble on you. I have a plan.”

  Your eyes widened at his statement. He was right, he couldn’t gain anything else from working with a hothead like you. He had taken a chance on you. What else did you have to offer to him? It was a sobering statement. After all, you did prove to be a handful in the meeting today, it was a pretty big mess up. You two could only have trust or you would have nothing. And you would hate to be a liability to him. 

  The two of you stared ahead at the streets, bustling with the cacophony produced by the city at midday traffic. The winds picked up, with fallen leaves and litter on the semi-empty street dancing to their own choreography. A chill ran down your spine, signalling the approach of nightfall. You both had decided then that it was best you get a move on to the bank before rush hour traffic befalls upon you.

###

The buildings galloped up where your sights could reach, Gotham National Bank standing out as a nostalgic hue of ivory, marbled with contours of magnificent antiquated architecture. Small fragments crumbled from the pillars encircling it, exalting it to an unmatched quality of regality as if there stood an ancient and historic piece of post-American Renaissance. This unusual lavishness caught the eye in the heart of Gotham. You both sauntered up the stone steps with a comfortable rhythm. The wooden framed glass doors pushed to the side as you both turned round the bend. The confidence you two shared initially was faltering as you realised the danger behind the work you were going to do.

  The place reeked of opulence, a feeling of vastness with high ceilings, yet you still felt suffocated by the scent of luxury vanilla tobacco perfume. The air felt still and frigid, despite its warm rustic tones and yellow ceiling lights. You would never fall for this false allure and fabrication of a cozy and comfortable environment. It lulls you into a false sense of security. A carefully crafted institute that tries to evoke trust is nothing but lies. Money, whether little or a lot, is a source of stress in the lives of people after all. How the bank could portray themselves as anything but was beyond you. Your lips tightened as you walked to the bank tellers. Surprisingly the foyer was not as crowded as you had expected. It is well enough that the people of this city did not understand the banking and monetary system, for if they did, there would be a revolution by the next morning.

  There was no line at the counter where you two were expected. John Blake regarded the bank teller with a tightlipped smile and firm handshake. You noticed Blake’s calloused hands, they weren’t too big and certainly did not look fitting for that of a white-collar accountant. He flashed his identification card from the companies you two were liaised with and requested to be granted permission for a thorough evaluation of their financial statements. Fingers crossed, you and Blake shared a look as the young man behind the desk studied the card in its holder skittishly. Clearly, he wasn’t experienced at all.

  “Sir, I’m sorry but I think I would have to check with my superiors if I could authorise your entry into our systems.”

  He brought a hand to his collar and nervously adjusted his tie around his neck. Your heart sank as you prepared yourself for the worst. Multiple scenarios rang through your head. They could be notified. You could be fired for attempting unauthorised entry into confidential records. Blake hurriedly reached into his coat pocket in a last-ditch attempt, stopping the young man from approaching higher-ups.

  “We are directly associated with Mr. Lau of Lau Security Investments Holdings, and as the official Financial Advisor of Gotham Press Holdings and part of the directorial meeting board, we are granted perfect autonomy in ensuring and cross referencing the accuracy of our financial statements.”

  John Blake maintained a stone cold composure, not a single crack in his facade, presenting a separate placeholder card from today’s meeting with the company stamp embossed on its surface. Although, upon closer inspection you could see him grip the sleeves of his dark blue suit in his folded arms. He could fool a silly junior bank teller, but not you unfortunately. You held your breath. Upon hearing the name of the CEO roll off his tongue, the young man inspected the card and his shoulders slackened a considerable amount. He cleared his voice.

  “Of course. I will access the statements for you in just a minute.”

  He began keying into the laptop in front of him and dialing numbers into his keypad. You suddenly remembered how to breathe as you let out a puff of air held in your lungs. In a wash of relief, you brought your hand to John’s back and gripped onto his suit reassuringly. You could see that he had his eyes downcast, his tight hold on his sleeves loosening. His jaw was still tight and jutted forward. You looked him in the eyes as he was vulnerable for a moment, you softened your gaze as if telling him something.

  You don’t have to be so strong anymore.

  It was a tough call. You could tell he was scared out of his wits. He didn’t like to lie, he didn’t like to use deceit. You two had abused your positions after all. You had taken advantage of the inexperience of the young man behind the desk. You were surprised he had done it at all. Hell, he had been the one who spontaneously suggested the idea anyway. You understood though. He had infracted his moral code for something bigger and more important. All this went unnoticed by the bank teller who was so engrossed in fumbling about with card keys and entering the right code. You smiled at John encouragingly.

  To signal he was done, the bank teller turned his laptop around to face you two. The two of you stared into the records presented on screen. This was your golden opportunity. Blake gave you a look and nodded, and immediately you knew what to do. For him, all signs of remorse had dissipated like cotton candy on a tongue and his senses were on overdrive. The impressive work ethic of Blake had begun to override his emotions and you saw his propensity for achieving results.

  You loaded the data into a thumb drive and jammed it back into your laptop. You processed the data with Microsoft SQL. This allowed you to store, read or manipulate the data. Then you loaded the data into Tableau to start data visualisation. Concurrently, you fetched a code for a machine learning algorithm you had worked on and were familiar with. You looked over at Blake as your computer was processing, chewing on your lips as he loaded a graph on his screen. He had been analysing the datasets provided by your company which you had prior access to.

  Well, as can be expected, most transactions are non-fraudulent. To find evidence was like finding a needle in a haystack. But you were an expert at detecting outliers. For an imbalanced dataset, you needed to think out of the box. If you projected the sets into a scatter plot, you could visualise the clusters of fraudulent and non-fraudulent transactions. Bingo. You could generate synthetic samples from then on. However, all this prediction was meaningless without insights from Blake. Your work could only substantiate what he was able to find. You tried to make sense of the data and tugged at your hair, nervously shaking a leg. Seemingly in a state of distress, he tugged his hand on his chin with pressure increasing by the second. He was onto something.

  When he was done, he shifted your laptop over to his side of the desk and compared both of your graphs and excel tables. After a grating amount of time, he let out a burning stream of air that was searing the walls of his lungs. He looked over at you and nodded solemnly. That meant only one thing, this was it, you guys had done it. You had proven Lau’s fraudulence. He instinctively leaned over to you, voice nothing more than a raspy whisper. 

  “In more than a few accounts, extra digits were added to the fees recorded.” 

  He gesticulated towards the data and scrolled in.

  “For example here, if the fee initially recorded by the clerk was $5,234, a five was added to the first position reporting the fee as $55,234. In that single month, production fees were overstated by several hundred thousands of dollars. This explains why they could evade taxes so easily.”

  You narrowed your eyes. He added more discernment to the situation, a form of scum reading if you will. Of course, he did so in hushed tones, to prevent the bank teller from catching on.

  “Not to mention, the dates of the frauds you identified tie in and correlate heavily with reports of organised crime in Gotham.”

  Your eyebrows raised and you snapped your head to look at him in disbelief. Never had you imagined things to be this bad. This was a massive case you had uncovered. Blake chuckled lowly, a slender brow quirked incredulously at you with mixed amusement. He was always one to be tickled by your over-dramatically animated reactions to things.

  “Always on the ball, aren’t ya kid? Like a true siege machine. I couldn’t have done this without you. Excellent work.”

  You felt your face heating up at this statement. You suddenly felt awkward. Your actions suddenly, not within your control, became demure and coy. You even went as far as to attempt to hide your features behind your fingers, as you brought a hand to your face. You hated it when this happened. You could never admit this to yourself. You had always put on a tough front for John. Yet no amount of training could prepare you for moments like this. You thrived on being able to impress him, to prove yourself worthy. That you were no mistake he made.

  This revelation was nothing but a testament to the remarkable teamwork and chemistry you two had. It was nothing short of an incredible feat. Your skill sets heavily complemented each other, and your lines of thoughts and cognition heavily resonated together. You truly felt invincible at times with him. You could do anything with him. You could build an empire. You tasted something akin to victory on your tongue, despite not really having won anything yet. It felt like snowflakes had settled on your tongue, except instead of icy coldness you felt a sugary golden warmth. Blake had reached his arm around and patted you on your shoulder reservedly, denoting the conveyance of commendation from a coworker. Shrugging his hands off you, you sent him a sidelong glare for daring to interact with you on such a formal basis, as if you hadn’t skirted past a professional connection long ago. 

  Your attention was caught on your screen as you realised the data visualisation for Gotham Press Holdings was also complete. You realised that movements of funds to Lau Holdings had increased 342 percent for the past month. This was definitely a suspicious transaction that had gone unreported in the official financial statements. You dug deeper and deeper and you cursed at the power Lau had, and resolved to bring this up to the higher-ups at some point. The ire in realising your company had been pulled into Lau’s heinous mess tore through your chest like a claymore blade, and thoughts raced through your mind. Anger coursed through your veins like a lifeforce in and of itself, tugging at your fingers like puppet strings as they twitched involuntarily. Blake noticed this and called out your name. It was futile. You can’t listen to him like this. You wrenched your attention away from the screen and onto Blake in an attempt to explain the situation and―

  Gunshots ripped through splitting the still air, its sound piercing like that of blithe firecrackers, a bangarang seeming to come from nowhere as screams of terror rang. You blinked, hands haphazardly thrown in front of you in reaction, a dulled instinct of your body lost years ago. You blinked again, and you were on the floor all of a sudden, not really sure how you had ended up there. You searched around with your pupils, registering that Blake had an arm tugged around your shoulders and another pulling at your white sleeves. You peeked upwards furtively through the curtains of your hair framing your face, trembling with your chin strained against your sternum to watch men clad in suits with frightening clown masks run through the space.

  “Alright everybody, heads down! I said hands up, I’m makin’ a withdrawal here!”

  To you, the man had the most venomous voice you’ve heard, straight from the depths of hell. You squeezed your eyes shut, not daring to stare at them as if it were a mortal sin that would grant you the eternal punishment of death if you did. It was a long time ago when you had last been placed in such a compromising situation, since the Batman had taken to cleaning the streets. You forgot the feeling of fear. It was almost invigorating in a sense. This was life on the edge as you know it.

  “Obviously we don’t want you doin’ anything with your hands, other than holdin’ on for dear life!”

  These words didn’t really mean much to you. Just jumbled sloppy threats, obviously unplanned and entropic in nature. Perhaps they didn’t mean exactly what they were saying. Yet this frightened you so much more. Clowns were unpredictable. You thought back on the various cirques and circuses you had patronised in the past, remembering the many archetypal clown personas they assumed. Their traditional slapstick humour, mischief in demeanor always put you on edge. You never knew what tricks they might pull on you, they were masterful tricksters. You saw the clown pass what looked like a grenade-shaped time bomb to the man at the counter next to you. An epileptic meditation swept over you, foreshadowing the prelude of a nervous collapse. Blake pulled you closer into his form upon seeing the time bomb, caging his arms around you. You were unsure if he did this to comfort you or if it was for his self-reassurance.

  “Nobody make a move! Nobody! Stay down!” 

  One of them lazily swung his gun around, uncaring as he pointed wherever a group of people clambered. You huffed. Clowns and their general nonchalance, clearly exaggerated in their movements. What is this little regard they had for human life? What is human life to them?

  You continued watching a clown terrorise a blonde woman behind the counter. You heard an internal time bomb ticking, echoing away as the dissonance of razors on violin strings bled through your ears. The icy fingers of apprehension wrapped tightly around your spine, much like the way Blake held you, they tugged at your bones until they felt ready to tear past your flesh.

  Bang!

  You jerked your head and out of John Blake’s grasp. You saw an explosive shattering of glass from the main counter which was encircled by a glass and wood partition. The gunswinger had been taken down. A man in a grey suit, who you recognised as the head bank teller, wielded a powerful shotgun. You pressed your wrists together, you still had a fighting chance. This man was a glimmer of hope for the victims. He shot a couple more shells at another clown, but he missed all of them. He let out a yell. You bit down on your bottom lip, nails digging crescent shapes further into your palm. He exuded a sense of confidence and self-assuredness, with an upright posture and puff in his chest unbefitting for someone who has to sit the entire day for his job. He trudged onwards with his mighty steps with more pumps of his shotgun, a masculine energy that was striking enough. You felt a collective sense of relief from the other victims as you all rooted for him in silence.

  “You have any idea who you’re stealin’ from? You and your friends are dead!”

  You pondered this statement from the grey suited man. What kind of threat was this? It was a minor detail that you could be overthinking. It was definitely out of the ordinary for a generic banker to say something like this. But it all makes sense now, especially with everything Blake had led you to believe, and the realisation dawned upon you. This was indeed a mob bank. And believe that no one who robs a mob bank leaves alive. You started laughing at yourself internally, perhaps you were going insane. Oh how the tables have turned, the only salvation in this situation was that a member of the mob was your only hope in escaping this place alive. It was a bitter realisation, you cursed the irony in the situation. Perhaps Lau had indirectly saved your life, given his ties to organised crime.

  You saw the two clowns regroup and discuss something. You noticed that one of them hadn’t spoken the whole time since their arrival, and simply nodded his head fervently at the other. He wore a clown mask that had a blue frown. You recognised him as the one who handed out and unhooked the time bombs. You narrowed your eyes at him. He was too quiet. 

  The man with the shotgun had missed his last shot as the other clown, the one with the spiked hair, stood up. It seemed that he had emptied the barrel of his shotgun, and fumbled with it within his hands. Oh no. Blake had sunken backwards further into the floor. In a split second, what hope you held onto swiftly dwindled down, you saw some of the other terrorised folks’ faces fall as you let go of your closed fists, the heat of the blood rushing through doing nothing to warm up your cold and clammy hands.

  The clown with the blue frown took advantage of this and swiftly stood up, with a sort of careless grace that was strangely unique. Idiosyncratic even, how could that man possess a quirk so paradoxical and contradictory in every sense of the word? He fired a flurry of shots and the man wielding the shotgun shook violently, falling to the floor in an undignified manner with the clinking of bullets ringing onto the floor. 

  The clown quirked his head to the side with his eyes trained on the fallen man with mild intrigue, almost in lackadaisical amusement. It was patronising, frankly. A mockery of a quizzical look. It reminded you of the morbid fascination the beautiful people had shown you earlier today. Your face twisted into a snarl. Your gut was right about this man. He was dangerous, not your average goon. He looked like he did this on the regular for fun. 

  The clown with the spiked hair squabbled with him over something that seemed to be important. But he still said nothing. He stayed while the other clown left to head to where you presumed to be the vault. He walked down the aisles between desks with leisurely footsteps, and a relaxed hunch in his posture that looked feigned. He swung his arms around his body candidly, like how one would on a leisurely stroll when you were out on a boring trip with your family. His masked eyes swiped across every gentle shadow the room forged. He was extremely observant. More so than the rest, as he constantly took note of the surroundings and mapped the location out. However, he only gave passing glances to the people on the floor, as if they weren’t really there at all. He didn’t seem to care at all that he was, as a matter of fact, carrying out a godforsaken bank heist right this very moment. Was this a joke to him?

  Nothing could dissipate this horrible feeling you had about this man, how gut-wrenching it felt to be in his presence. You tried to stare at John Blake covertly, trying to search if he had found out a way to get out of this mess alive. But he had his eyes trained forward and hands gripping at the floor tiles, seemingly paralysed with fear after the man with the mask walked past you two. The man looked at his watch, with an unreal sense of patience. You tried to get Blake’s attention, but it was no use. He was scared stiff. You dared not move as you were sure that the clown would have no qualms shooting you then and there. You observed as he turned his back to you, and you noticed he had messily dyed, faded green hair. You craned your head. What kind of twisted criminal was this...?

  The spiked hair masked clown returned with many navy duffel bags, some on his shoulders and some dragged across the marble floor. The other clown lugged a couple bags along, pooling them at the center of the back entrance, in front of three wooden framed glass doors.

  “That’s a lot of money!” The spiked hair clown jibed, clearly in greed. “If this Joker guy was so smart, he’d had us bring a bigger car!”

  The clown with the blue frown turned his back to the other clown. Immediately when he did this, a heavy clicking noise was heard. You noticed a sort of hesitance in his movements, realising he had made a mistake. The other clown had turned on him, reloaded his handgun and pointed it straight at his back. The air was tense. He slowly turned his head to face him again, almost defensively so that he wouldn’t trigger the other clown to make any rash decisions.

  “I’m bettin’ the Joker told you to kill me as soon as we loaded the cash.”

  The hand holding the gun was quivering. Whatever game it was that they were playing, it was dangerous. You noticed the two of them were the only clowns left. Whoever this ‘Joker’ person they talked about was, he was calculative. He managed to turn them all on each other, and they weeded each other out. The man with the frown pulled back his sleeve to check his watch, and grumbled. His life was on the line and he was still playing games. Your brows tightened. Enough of this feigned indifference.

  “No, no, no, no. I kill the bus... Driver.”

  This was the first time he spoke this whole time. He sounded like how a real clown possibly would. A raspy timbre from years of smoking and a nasally tone in wry jest. At the corner of your eyes, you saw the fallen bank teller try to turn his body, but to no avail. He seemed affected by this statement, for reasons unknown. The clown side-stepped, out of the gun’s line of sight.

  “Bus driver?”

  The man holding the gun delayedly tracked him with his gun, stepping backwards tentatively in tandem with the other clown. The clown continued stepping to the side, acting defenseless with his hands in front of his waist as a gesture of nonaggression despite holding a gun, to cajole the other man. They kept at a distance apart and circled each other. The clown with the frown cocked his head to the side as he stepped, as though in confusion at the situation at hand. However, it felt unnatural to you. This simple act was definitely deliberate. You could almost see the gears turning in his head. Whatever it was, he was cold and calculated. Every one of his actions seemed carefully thought out and he did not do pointless things. He only spoke when absolutely necessary. Every move he has made thus far, he had done so with intention and purpose. 

  The air hung with uncertainty. Blake, seeming to have regained his senses with this distraction, turned his body to face you. The man with the gun grew impatient with this lack of an answer and he shook his head.

  “What bus drive-”

  In the blink of an eye, the wooden frames of the doors burst apart and glass flew everywhere. A yellow school bus had crashed through the gates like a battering ram. It drove directly into where the clown holding the gun stood and at break-neck speed, knocked him out cold. The bank was silent at that moment, not really knowing how to register or react to this turn of events. John Blake forced your attention on him and took full advantage of this distraction, whispering to you.

  “Whatever happens, when this is over make a run for it. Through that hole in the wall.”

  You gave a grunt of acknowledgement. The door slid open to reveal another goon with a clown mask.

  “School’s out, time to go. That guy’s not gettin’ up, is he?”

  Not one for small talk, the clown with the frown threw him the duffel bags to load them into the bus. The other clown continued jibing in excitement, especially after seeing how many filled bags of cash they had to toss into the bus. He threw the last duffel bag at him. Having just arrived, the talkative man clearly did not understand the circumstances that had led to this point. You felt bad for him as he seemed naive.

  “What happened to the rest of the guys?”

  Without even looking at him, the clown with the blue frown offhandedly shot him with a round of bullets. You squeezed your eyes shut. You could not get used to this nasty sound. He did not even give him the time of day. Not a single care in the world. He ambled past you again to pull the last duffel bag and tossed it into the bus. The question of why he always gave this impression of detachment from the reality in front of you remains unanswered. 

  “Think you’re smart huh?”

  He pulled his hand onto the edges of the doorframe and was about to climb into the bus, but he turned around. Perhaps this was not a part of his calculations. He had one foot on the steps, but pulled his foot back down and adjusted his mask to stare at who it was daring enough to speak up to him. The bank teller struggled and floundered on the ground, coughing and sputtering. He curled into himself even more, much like a fetus would, looking absolutely pathetic. He was fighting back a grimace on his face.

  “The kind that hired youseㅡThey’ll just do the same to you…”

  The masked man’s interest was seemingly piqued by his speech of open defiance. He brought his arm behind his back into his back pocket and staggered across the floor. That couldn’t-care-less grace acted again, his attention wavering as his gaze flitted between the man on the floor and the surroundings. He pulled something out of his pocket. You could not recognise what the object was.

  No, why couldn’t you have just kept your mouth shut?

  “Oh, criminals in this town used to believe in things… Honour, respect.”

  The bank teller spat. The masked man continued walking and stopped before him, imposing. There was a momentous promise in his gravity, a hint of catastrophe in the tilt of his head. He bent down and crouched to the fallen man’s level, bringing the object to his face.

  “Look at you. What do you believe in huh? WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE IN?”

  He shouted the last statement, blood-curdling and grinding around the edges. It seemed to be a last final effort display of dominance, his ego refusing to allow him to submit before he was stifled and his words fell off with a gagging noise. The man had shoved a black cylindrical device into his mouth. You felt the same internal razors on violins escalate in intensity, and your heart constricted with the crescendo.

  “I believe,” 

  The masked man started, this time his voice different, sounding smooth like butter. It felt like a balmy breeze sending chills down your spine, wrapping around your neck with smooth fingers. It was laced with an anarchic menace.

  “Whatever doesn’t kill you simply makes you,”

  He removed his mask, and looked to the side. Then, he looked down at him again. No one amongst you could comprehend what they were looking at. The violins had reached its loudest forte, and in a thunderous roar it came crashing down. He gave a slight twist of his head.

  “Stranger.”

  His tone shifted and he uttered that last word with his nasally rasp instead. His eyebrows lifted a fraction off his face, in mock honesty. He smiled and withdrew quickly, vanishing away from the scene like a shadowy wraith.

  “Kid, run.” Blake urged. You just stared at that spot where the apparition appeared.

  You had just seen a ghost.

  Silly little girl. Maybe there is a ghost, maybe... It’s only you.

  “Hey, are ya listening? Get ready.”

  He was a phantom. You could not scratch off this disturbing feeling about him. Thousands of spiders had crawled up your arms to reach your face, paralysing you in your wake as dread was siphoned into your head, numbing your brain. No matter how much you gouged and clawed at your skin, the arachnids could not be torn off. You thought back on his face. He was soaked in nothing but pure malice, doused as if an arsonist had poured gasoline on him. You saw him enter the bus and slid the door shut, a cord extending from the back of his pocket to the man still on the floor. Your eyes focused onto the black cylindrical gadget in his mouth

  Alarmed, you snapped out of it. 

  It finally occurred to you, this man was about to die. This man who valiantly fought for you people and tried to save the bank. You didn’t care at this point if he was part of the Mafia or whatever blasted gang it was that ran about in Gotham. He was a citizen of Gotham, no less than you. You broke free of the grasps of the arachnids, and stood up and ran to the center of the back entrance, heels clicking sharply against the cold floor. Blake watched your back in horror, swapping glances between you and the yellow school bus which hadn’t left. You could feel gazes of scrutiny, all unsure of what to think of your spur-of-the-moment effort.

  You had to do something about this. You made up your mind, there’s no convincing you out of this. Not even from Blake.

  What about me?

  The ghost flashed in your mind.

  You ran so fast, when you stopped in front of him you felt the whiplash of inertia propelling you further. Snapping out of it, you bent down in front of him and tried to yank the butt of what was in his mouth. You looked him in the eyes, noticing how wide and blue they were, and they were close to watering. You frowned, tears threatening to break at the corner of your own eyes. You felt as helpless as he did as you were unable to pry the object out of his mouth.

  You attempted again, trying to attack it from a different angle. You tried to ignore and dull the twinging sensation pricking your nose. Your brows pinched upwards bridging at a peak, your methods administered were to no avail. The man looked at you as if his life flashed before his eyes. You can’t give up on him. Not with the way he practically stared into your soul.

  “Hey, listen to me alright. We will get you out.”

  Your voice was shaky. You stared into his eyes with determination. You observed how his mouth curved around the object. His jaw was like a vice in a workshop space clamping on tightly to the object. A vice was made of metal however.

  “Okay, this is going to hurt. But don’t you worry it will work.”

  You used your fingers to pick up the drool lapping around his mouth. Then, with the warning you gave him prior, you forcefully jammed your lubricated fingers into the sides of the entrance of his mouth. He let out a long and drawn out moan of pain as you hooked your fingers around the foreign object, wrangling it out of his mouth, feeling the scrape of his teeth against your fingers and the smooth walls behind the hollows of his cheek.

  At long last, you trawled the object. However, while you held it triumphantly in your hands, the bus had driven off with a force that pulled you backwards slightly. You felt the string dislodge and it released a noxious gas that bellowed columns like thickets around you and the bank teller. The small dose had proven to be debilitating, and you coughed and moved your hand to cover your nose. It burned. In a swift motion, you tossed the smoke bomb to the other end of the room, something you should have done long ago.

  That’s too bad then. Maybe next time.

  You collapsed onto the ground from the strong inhale of the gas that filled your lungs, finding it difficult to get back on your feet. It scorched your air passages. You heard the sound of hurried and loud footsteps frantically pounding against the floor tiles as the people were running towards the hole in the wall. You tried to grab onto the man to lug him as you crawled, but it soon proved to be difficult. You cursed as you lost your strength.

  However, before you knew it, you were suddenly hoisted onto the shoulders of a man, your upper torso hanging down his back. Disoriented and sputtering in anguish, tears clouded your vision as you tried to spot the bank teller and you yelled.

  “Someone-help the man who was shot!”

  “Still worryin’ about him at a time like this? Not sure if that’s very smart of you.”

  This voice was unfamiliar. You couldn’t recognize it. The man who carried you was running towards the entrance and you felt this in the bob of your torso. You knocked your arms frantically at his lower back, though it probably felt quite pathetic given your current state.

  “Relax, relax. Someone else’s got him.”

  You relented upon hearing that, and thanked him for telling you that. As you exited the building you looked forward and your vision was blurry, however you could make out Blake catching up to you. He held a stack of laptops and tablets. He was panting and when he made it, he caught your hand and clasped it in his. This reassured you. You felt a little safer.

  The adrenaline was draining out of your system quickly. The lightheaded fatigue was settling in. You felt like you were in a bad dream. The sounds of traffic and sirens whirred past you in a blur, sounding louder than they should have. You felt the comings of a migraine swallow around your head. It almost felt like your world was spinning, and you just wanted to sit down.

  The recoils in the steps were too much. Your stomach lurched, and you clutched at your mouth. You tried looking at Blake, but you couldn’t see him. He looked ghoulish. Like a creature of the underworld. 

  He lurked under a veil of alabaster, blotted onto his canvas were two black cavernous holes gouged in place of his eyes, deep like the plunge basins of a calamitous waterfall, one that roared with stygian ink. But this was perhaps not the most terrifying part about him. 

  You saw a bright spark in front of your eyes, unsure of what was happening. Blake squeezed your palm even tighter. It must’ve been the bombs from earlier going off. 

  His grin extended far beyond the realms of what would be normal, unsettling and sinister as a macabre smile was carved deep into his white flesh, dripping blood red over ridges and grooves that swirled and curved along the sides of his mouth, peaks pushed together and formed after millenniums of cataclysmic terrain shifts. 

  You gave Blake’s hand a crushing grip. Anything to snap out of this terror.

  When he grinned he revealed a set of discoloured teeth, yellowed and rancid with dread, the earth no longer fertile and only bore fruits of death. 

  All of a sudden, you could see and you saw people gathered around, safe and sound. Blake had a concerned expression.

  You sniggered inwardly, looks like that clown had a miscalculation in his steps. All the small victories mattered to you. The running had stopped and the feeling of vertigo had been alleviated slightly, but was not gone completely. The man set you down as you slumped heavily against the sidewalk. You looked around you and you were suffocated by the imposing high rise buildings of Gotham City.

  “Hey, look―About that comment regardin’ the man who was shot…”

  You steeled yourself to stare at the man who saved your life, pushing past how dizzy looking up made you feel.

  “Look, I’m sorry about that alright. If you hadn’t done that… Then perhaps others like me wouldn’ta done what’s right.”

  Still in a state of befuddlement, you stared at him blankly. Slowly, you registered the meaning of his statement and a blush crept over your cheeks.

  “That’s really all I have to say. Uh, thank you, I guess.”

  With that, your mystery saviour left you with Blake. You wished you had at least been in the right mind enough to ask for the man’s name. John Blake skirted around you and supported your weight as he sat beside you. He smirked at the ground, an unreadable look in his downcast eyes.

  “You know kid, I really hate to admit this to you. And I’m only really saying this because you’re in this sorry state.”

  He flicked your forehead with his fingers. You reeled backwards and patted your hand across the area where he inflicted his damage.

  “That was pretty damn badass of you back there. But you could have died.”

  Groggily, this barely registered in your head, and your head lolled about, the motion lulling you into a dream. You were out, and your head rested against Blake’s shoulder. Alarmed, he recalled that you had taken a direct hit from the smoke bomb. He had to act fast.

  “Guess we have to drag your sorry ass to the hospital.”

  He stared forward at the ambulances arriving, dragged your arm across his shoulders and tightened his grip on you, preparing to lift you over there. Before the ambulances stopped, he looked motionless at the ground. He felt an uneasy sense of discomfort build within his chest. What had he done in that whole debacle? Looked on at the sidelines like a sitting duck? 

  A word rang in his mind over and over again like the sirens coming close.

  Coward.

  He shook his head and rubbed his chin. He hated nothing more than the feeling of uselessness. He always wanted to contribute something, he shifted his gaze to look at you. He was stunned by the display of courage and compassion. You outdid him in your generosity. He couldn’t even do anything to save you, for crying out loud. The look in his eyes wavered, full of convoluted emotion. One thing’s for sure, he was clearly disappointed in himself.

  You performed way better than he had expected in the data interpretation too. He had indeed found a diamond in the rough.  

  Kid, if you could realise your potential on your own…

   He tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  He thought back on the words spoken by the man who saved you. Your kind act has unknowingly inspired others. Your compassion and spurred on further acts of compassion. He was right. This strengthened his hope and belief in the people of Gotham. This city was worth fighting for. Fighting the conflict that reigned over his emotions, he had to arrive at a resolve.

  Sighing, he muttered a curse under his breath. Then, he hoisted you up and staggered over to the paramedics.

###

Flinging the mask to the side, he emptied his gloved hand and saw it lightly bounce against a cushioned bus seat. Then he turned around to wind the doors shut. He looked down to observe the duffel bags, roughly gauging if this heist alone was enough for him. He was hoping that he wouldn’t need to carry out another heist for a long time. He stared at the shotgun he held in his other glove. A very useful trinket he snatched from today’s heist. What a steal, he thought to himself. He was about to jump over the duffel bags to head to the driver’s seat but something caught his eye as he peered out the frosted glass pane.

  A girl? What is she doing?

  She bent down facing the wasted bank teller and tried pulling at the cylinder in his mouth. He observed with light boredom, unimpressed by her antics. He jammed the smoke bomb far too deep into the vice grip of his jaw. There was no use, really.

  Foolish little girl.

  She re-angled herself, to get a better grip on the smoke bomb. He could discern her appearance from this view. She wore a white coat and had her hair tied up in some type of bun? What did she think she was, some type of doctor? This ticked him off. He narrowed his eyes. While he was making a pretty baseless assumption about a random girl in a bank, it couldn’t change the fact that his first impression of her was that she was a healthcare worker.

  He stretched his lips, jutting his jaw forward. For some reason, this made him irrationally annoyed. He never did like healthcare workers. Doctors and nurses are perhaps among some of the most prestigious jobs in society today, and have been for pretty much the entirety of history and human civilisation. As the front lines combating disease, they are often lauded and praised as heroes for their sacrifices, saving lives while putting their own lives on the line. They give up many things for their medical careers.

  This was laughable. He gave a snort, how funny is it that everyone reveres and idolises the motivations of such people. As if they were actual messengers from the divine being, God himself. What they don’t realise is that people lie. They always do. They always say that they’re mainly doing it for altruistic purposes, because they feel fulfilled saving other people. As if prestige and money aren’t a thing. No one truly wants to be a pawn in war.

  He licked his lips and peered down at the naive girl. There will come a time when she realises that helping others is asinine. The reasons for which she has to learn on her own. She will only be weak the more she believes her morals to be better than everyone else’s.

  And weakness only disgusts him.

  He rolled his eyes watching her fail yet again. This was a waste of his time, people really love doing pointless things. We live in an amusing world. He paid her no more heed.

  “Doctors and nurses are not heroes.”

  With that, he braced his hands on the seats lining both sides of the aisles, hoisting himself over the haphazardly strewn hoard of duffel bags to the other side. His cable extended further from his back pocket, the sound lightly scraping the shell of his ears. He clambered into the driver’s seat and landed unceremoniously as his limbs were thrown forward at the impact. He shifted forward, widened his palms and then scrunched his fingers as he searched around for the engine start. After pulling the knob, he smacked both of his hands carelessly on the steering wheel. He shook his head a few times and sighed.

  “At the end of the day, they’ll always be martyred against their will.”

[pro-bee]

“Ziva, sometimes people do the wrong things for the right reasons.” “People always think their own reasons are right. Especially parents.” “Yeah, they got perspective.” “Parents don’t make mistakes!”  “Yeah.” “My mother never told me what kind of a man my father was. Perhaps she thought I was not strong enough to handle it.” “Nah, she was just being a mom.” “How do you know?” “Perspective.” “Are you lonely Gibbs?” “You’re never alone when you have kids. ‘Night, kid.”

God, this is one of my favourite scenes of the series, and I think recent developments give it new depth because this conversation has kind of come full circle.

I love it because this moment, right here, is the Ziva-Gibbs relationship in a nutshell. 

[very long post with lots of feelings under the cut]

You’ve got Ziva frustrated at the tangled webs people weave to protect their families, even when it ultimately ends up unraveling one giant mess.

The whole episode, Ziva’s interactions with Mariam are fraught with both compassion and frustration. She feels a sort of kindred spirit in Mariam, trying to survive a conflict with no winner but only losers while escaping with some sort of humanity. Yet she’s also deeply frustrated, because Ziva is tired of this shit and particularly the kind of shit men will put the women in their lives through in the name of honour, and she has trouble seeing why any woman would stand by it when they can clearly see they are in the wrong.

It’s one of the most interesting aspects of Ziva’s character to me, one which I wish they would have explored more in the series, because she’s a bit of a dichotomy. She’s clearly deeply entrenched in the system her father raised her in, but she also is compassionate towards the very people she was probably trained to mistrust, knowing that at the end of the day, they’re all after the same thing -- a peaceful existence where they are free to be who they are. It’s a nuanced view that isn’t always given the chance to breathe in the media. 

But, here she is having just finished a case where someone -- a woman --  has once again covered up for the misdeeds of the men in her life, because she tried to protect them. Which gets her thinking about her own mother, who she now realizes covered up the things Eli did from her as a child so she could grow up with a father she could trust and love, even if we know now and Ziva would learn as a young adult that he did not deserve it. 

We don’t know what happened to her mom (other than Ziva says she was killed, like Tali and Ari), but we can probably infer that she went to her grave trying to protect Ziva from Eli’s exploits.

(Now I’m wondering if Tali and their mom were killed in the same event?)

She’s still reeling from the fallout of Somalia two years earlier, of cutting her father out of her life, of trying to figure out if she’s able to forgive him, look past what he put her through and put other people through, if she can find a place in her heart for him the way Mariam has for her son and husband even if they’ve committed atrocious acts.

And that is where Gibbs comes in: That it doesn’t make Ziva weak that her mom didn’t share any of this with her, one which she had to find out herself the hard way. It’s that her mother loved her so much that she wanted to shield her from that part of their lives, let her keep her innocence for as long as possible so that she could live in a world where her father wasn’t capable of heinous acts in the name of “duty”, because he was still her father and she needed that presence in her life, such as it was.

As we know now, Ziva seems to have grown up thinking that being strength = taking things and moving on. But we know that true strength, one which Mariam shows and arguably Ziva’s mother did, is being able to accept those parts of your life and still maintain your humanity and decency.

Then that flips to the Ziva-Gibbs relationship, because she has a moment of honesty with him, asking if he’s lonely. With Borin he brushes it off, but with Ziva, he offers his truth as he knows it. “You’re never lonely when you have kids.” Is it a delusion he tells himself? Perhaps, but in that very moment, I believe that he believes it, completely. Because he cares for these people, the same ones who have spent the entire week trying to set him up with someone specifically because they care for him and don’t want him to be alone. 

But more than that, when he tells her, “’Night, kid,” he’s not just teasing her about being one of the “office kids” who he looks over and takes under his wing. Coming off the discussion about the parents, he’s also telling her that he’s watching over her here the way her father couldn’t. That he sees her heart, the way she cared for Mariam and her family, and he knows where she belongs. He’s reminding her that she is part of a family here, one that may have had its own share of secrets to protect one another, but caring nonetheless. He’s acknowledging the love he has for them (and her) as much as the love they have (and she has)  for him. 

What really gets me, though, watching this now after season 17, especially these last two episodes, is how much their relationship has come full circle. We went from them being his “kids” to Ziva fighting for “her family” in the season 10 finale, to all the heartache between season 11-16, to the bitterness of season 17, and back to their father-daughter relationship.

Because now that Ziva is a parent herself, she has that perspective that Gibbs is talking about.

She, too, has now done the wrong things for what she believed were the right reasons. 

(Ahem, keeping Tali from Tony. Faking her death. Acting alone to fight terrorists. etc.)

And now, of course, with her perspective, she can see why Gibbs did or didn’t do the things he did, the same way she can probably now better understand why her own mother did what she did when she was a child.

(Except Eli. Eli is still the worst. In this house we drag Eli David.)

She has done things as a mom that have been painful and impossible but necessary, the way Mariam did or Gibbs did or her own parents did.

Yet another thing that I love about it is how it comes around for Gibbs, too. He wasn’t lonely here, he claims, because he had the love of his family, his “kids”. Admittedly I have only seen a few episodes between season 14-16, but the few that I have seen, what has stood out to me is just how lonely and isolated Gibbs has become. (I never saw the Paraguay arc, but I take it that messed him up a lot?)

Arguably, he’d lost his “kids.” Ziva was “dead,” Tony was gone, Abby left, McGee was around but now busy with his own family. (Of the newbies, Ellie is the only team member with a normal family so she doesn’t need the surrogate parent in Gibbs, and Torres, well, I don’t know enough about him but he’s got a whole other kind of personality and doesn’t seem to crave that parental bond the way the others do, and Kasie keeps herself a bit at a distance.)

And, yeah, obviously “kids” grow up and move on, but the episodes I’ve seen, it does seem that Gibbs holds himself back at a distance even further than he used to. (I remember in one of Ellie’s episodes in season 11, Gibbs essentially told her that he went easy on her and held back because every time he looked at her desk all he could see was that Ziva wasn’t there.) He has grown older and colder, at all-time peak aloof, save for rare moments. He just seems sad. (Like, not obviously grief-stricken, just... worn out.)

But then in these latest Ziva episodes, we’ve seen him more animated than we have in a long time. He’s laughed and yelled and choked up and smiled. Because something has finally clicked back into place. And it’s not just that Ziva is back, although that is a huge part of it, but it’s like this black cloud that has hung over them has lifted. The guilt and the grief have dissipated. The missing piece of the puzzle has been put into place. And even if Ziva isn’t actually around full-time, knowing she’s out there is comforting. 

And mending that relationship with her is a big part of that. Because Ziva was “the favourite”. I mean, I know Abby was, technically, but he had different relationships with them. Abby’s was a parent-child one, too, because she too was a girl who’d lost her parents, but she’s so sunny and self-assured that I think theirs was more one of comfort. However, with Ziva, I think he recognized immediately how vulnerable she was, how emotionally fragile she was beneath the bravado, and that she was a girl from a broken home who’d never really been protected, and was now making her way in the world without having learned the safety of her father’s love. Plus you add the shared combat experience between them, and the connection makes even more sense. If you think that she left under the most contentious of circumstances, then (nearly) met a tragic end, you can see why that guilt would have weighed down those memories of Gibbs’ even more than Abby’s, who left of her own volition to follow her own dreams. (lol let’s not get into the off-screen reasons.)

I digress.

What I’m trying to say is that now that Gibbs and Ziva are back in each other’s lives, and have laid their cards on the table and confessed their hurt and in turn forgiven each other for it, they have reached a new stage of their relationship. That they both have new perspective. That Ziva understands what her mother did, but also what Gibbs did. And Gibbs tried to protect Ziva then like he has now, but understands better what that actually means for her and what she needs. (Ah, communication, what a concept.)

So they’ve both done very wrong things for what they thought were their own right reasons.

He won’t be lonely anymore, because he’s got his kids back, and his almost-daughter most of all. He’s not going to let her go anymore than she will him.

And on another note: That puts Ziva’s comment in 17x02 about how she was never alone, even on the run, because she always had her daughter, into relief. Because, yeah, she was alone while Tali was with Tony, but she carried Tali in her memories and in her heart, and that was her guiding light throughout this whole ordeal. So Gibbs was right, you never are alone when you have kids. And Ziva will never be alone ever again.

[fortunatelychaoticphantom]

Agency and Aang’s Arc

A while ago I made a big comment regarding the debate about Aang’s final choice to spare Ozai’s life in the finale and how that fits into his character arc. I feel like this is an important issue that deserves its own post so here’s a revised version of what I said.

----

Every time this debate is brought up I usually see the same comments; whenever people talk about Aang’s recurring running-away problem and how it influences his actions in the final battle, others claim that choosing to spare a life is not the same as running away and immediately accuse the criticizers of wanting a child in a kid’s show to kill someone. There are two fundamental misunderstandings that need to be addressed here.

First of all and most important, no one says that Aang should have killed Ozai. There is some very good, interesting and important debate on whether or not Ozai should live, whether death as a punishment is acceptable at all and if so when and how, and what specifically these character in these circumstances should do. But the issue that most of the criticism has is that this debate is never fully explored or resolved in the show but is instead magically swiped aside by two very glaring deus ex machinas that specifically come at the expanse of Aang’s arc.

Second, the whole “running away” issue is not about killing or not killing Ozai, it’s about Aang’s agency and his choices. It’s about the fact that in the end he could not overcome Ozai without the Avatar State and he could not avoid killing him without Energy Bending, both abilities he didn’t work to gain. It’s about how he got to that point in the first place and how the accumulation of his decisions throughout the show influenced the course of the final battle.

(continue after the break)

When it comes to running away, Aang is more than entitled to freak out occasionally. He is a child in horrible circumstances. Even before he was frozen, the knowledge of being an Avatar was thrust upon him too early because of the coming war and that is quite a lot to ask such a young child to handle. And if loosing his friends and being overwhelmed by his duties and responsibility isn’t enough, the fact that he overhears that he would be separated from his father-figure makes his running away all the more understandable. But just because we understand the reasons, that doesn’t make it the right choice. Of course, had he not run away he would most probably have died and, well, I guess we would have no show. But just because it turned out good for him (as good as waking up to a war-torn world knowing his entire people were murdered while he was asleep could be), it still doesn’t make it the right choice. If Aang had died, as long as it hadn’t happen in the Avatar state, a new Avatar would have been born in one of the Water Tribes. I can’t say if it would have been good for the world or not, it would simply have been different. But the point is that Aang did run away. He could have talked to Gyatso, he could have tried to convince the other masters to let him stay or try to find some middle ground where he would train in another temple but still be able to keep in touch with Gyatso or any other possibility, but he didn’t. He didn’t face his problem, he ran away. By having Aang freak out and run away again in “The Storm” and having Katara comfort him (which is great!) and tell him that it was meant to be (which is not so great) she is actively rewarding his behavior and he keeps doing it again and again.

Running away in its broader sense was a major issue for Aang in his Earth Bending training as well. I have written about this before in regards to “The Great Divide” and “Bitter Work” being two of the most important episodes in my opinion for Aang’s character. I’m probably the only one in the world who ever said it, but I LOVE “The Great Divide”. It is such a wonderful show of Aang’s character and it deals specifically with the most important trait of Air Bending - avoiding a direct conflict and circumventing around it to find a different solution. It shows a lot of imaginative ingenuity from Aang and shows us that situations aren’t always as binary as we might think. But in “Bitter Work” Aang is confronted by the fact that this tactic doesn’t work in every situation and that sometimes he has to face his issues head-on (literally for Toph…). This seeming dichotomy is the major conflict that defines Aang’s character arc for two season and climaxes in the ending of “The Guru” and “The crossroads of Destiny”, and is directly linked to the Avatar State and Aang’s journey growing up.

In the end of “The Guru” Aang has a vision of Katara being imprisoned and decides to abandon his training leaving his chakra blocked and the Avatar State as well in order to save her. He chooses personal attachment over his duties as Avatar. We understand why he did it, but that doesn’t mean he should have done it. We don’t know exactly what would have happened if he had stayed in the Eastern Air Temple with Pathik. Sokka would be fine because he was with Hakoda at the time, Toph would have still escaped her captors because her story didn’t touch the Gaang in the episode at all, Katara and Zuko would still be prisoners while Iroh would still be free, and Ba Sing Se would still fall (honestly, it fell the moment Azula stepped into the city). Maybe the third season would have started with a “Boiling Rock” type of prison-break to free Katara, I don’t know. But the thing is that Aang would have been a fully realized Avatar at that point, who can choose to enter the Avatar state at will and not have it control him, endanger him and everyone around him. But he doesn’t do that. He runs away again. But even though he runs away in that moment, in the final battle in the catacombs he actually does make the choice to let go of Katara, open his last chakra and achieve the Avatar State. But doing this complicated process in the middle of a battle field is less than ideal and he is struck down by Azula, blocking his chakra for good. And after a two season build-up, the whole chakra-letting go of Katara-Avatar State issue is just never touched on again and Aang’s arc comes to a screeching halt.

Now, I said “seeming dichotomy” because, like I said before, the whole issue of running away vs. facing conflicts head-on isn’t about the question of killing or not killing, it’s about making an active choice, and that is something that in the end Aang doesn’t do, and we need to talk about this.

Aang’s past lives advised him about the issue and I think it’s important to see what exactly did they say to him. Roku lamented that he didn’t act sooner on Sozin’s actions and told Aang “you must be decisive”. Kyoshi said that even though she didn’t technically kill Chin the Conqueror, she would have done whatever it took to stop him and told Aang “only justice will bring peace”. Kuruk told the story of losing the woman he loved to Koh, blaming himself that had he been more attentive and active he could have saved her and said “you must actively shape your own destiny and the destiny of the world”. And lastly, Yangchen said that while Aang’s values and education are important, it isn’t about him since his duty as Avatar is for the world and not himself and said “selfless duty calls you to sacrifice your own spiritual needs, and do whatever it takes to protect the world”.

Now, the thing is - technically speaking, not a single one of the old Avatars actually told Aang to kill Ozai. This is very important. Is Aang talking about the question of killing Ozai? Yes. Is any of them telling him directly that he should kill? Absolutely not. They are talking exactly about Aang’s unresolved character arc - about facing your problems, about not running away, about making an active choice, shaping your own destiny and not letting destiny control you and making sacrifices for the world.

In the end of “The Phoenix King”, After arguing with the rest of the Gaang about what to do with Ozai, Aang goes to his room and meditates for a while but soon falls asleep. And then, literally out of nowhere, deus ex machina #1 appears off-shore and lures a half conscious Aang to it. Is this an active choice? No. Aang has no idea where he is when he wakes up or what is he supposed to do. He doesn’t even try to find out until the very end of the episode. He does use this opportunity to communicate with his past lives and later on with the Lion Turtle as well. But again - he made no effort to seek out the Lion Turtle, he didn’t choose to find it. It appeared out of nowhere at the very last minute before the final battle, brought Aang to it, and gave him the technique to defeat Ozai. That is the literal definition of deus ex machina. And if that’s not enough, the Lion Turtle brought Aang to the shore where he would wait for Ozai to come to him. There isn’t a single active action from Aang in all of this. None of this happens on his own terms, it is the Lion Turtle’s terms. That is not a character in control of their destiny, that is destiny in control of a character.

That’s just the stuff leading up to the battle, now let’s talk about the battle itself. Twice during the battle Aang chooses to spare Ozai’s life. This is very important to talk about, because almost no one talks about the first time, and the focus is mostly on the second time. The first time Aang chose to redirect the lightning away from Ozai instead of back at him, and the second time was stopping the attack at the peak of the Avatar State and using Energy Bending instead - and that’s the most important difference between the two that surrounds his character arc. The whole conflict is exactly this - becoming a fully realized Avatar in control of the Avatar State to be able to defeat Ozai without killing him while paying the price of letting go of Katara or not finishing the training, not being in control of his powers, keeping his feelings for Katara but having to kill Ozai to defeat him and paying the price of giving up on his ideals. That is it. That is the conflict that was completely dropped from the third season. That was the process Aang was supposed to go through, that was the choice he was supposed to make, but didn’t. It was made for him instead.

Aang lost the battle. There’s no buts, no ifs, no nothing. That amazing moment, that incredible shot of Aang using a technique that has been so intrinsically woven into the narrative of the show on so many levels and for so many characters, the exact opposite of a deus ex machina, using the ability he worked for, that he learned, to redirect Ozai’s lighting away in order to keep his ideals was the pivotal moment that brought his loss. Aang lost. Without the Avatar State, without being in full control of his powers, even with his immense strength and resilience, Aang couldn’t defeat Ozai. Aang was exactly two strikes away from death before deus ex machina #2 reared its ugly head in the shape of the Magic of the Pointy Rock. Under incessant attacks that he can no longer hold, Aang is shoved (passive voice again) on a rock directly on the scar where Azula hit him with lightning. This magic solution opens up Aang’s chakra with zero explanation that it is even possible, achieves full control over his powers and the Avatar State while doing absolutely nothing to gain it.

Don’t get me wrong. Aang grabbing Ozai’s beard through the rubble and just bitch-slapping him to the spirit world is probably one of my favorite shots in the entire show. Everything in this battle is magnificent, and Aang’s final choice to come out of the Avatar State and spare Ozai is wonderful. But non of it would have been possible without the Pointy Rock and the Lion Turtle. Aang needed both the Avatar State and Energy Bending to defeat Ozai without killing him - two abilities that he didn’t have, that he didn’t learn, that he didn’t even know existed in the energy bending case until a literal divinity showed up at the last second to bestow it upon him. And that cheapens his entire arc, or more accurately negates its very existence. (We could also go into the moral, political, tactical and social aspects of Energy Bending itself, which is not at all touched in AtLA and only kind of awkwardly and incompletely dealt with in LoK, but this is not the place)

I want to address the issue of deus ex machina. I mean, It’s a cartoon! Everything is there for a reason! Every shape, every color, every word. So what’s the difference between a giant Lion Turtle with magic powers and a guru who happens to know everything the protagonist needs to know about his main conflict? Guru Pathik is a great example - he sends Aang a note through Appa telling him he wants to help Aang achieve his full potential as an Avatar. We see this happen. We see that Pathik has been living in the Eastern Temple, following the teachings of the Air Nomads, implying on a rich world of inter-cultural exchange of ideas and practices and even hinting on the possibility that the Air Nomads might not all be gone or that remnants of them have remain in various ways around the world. He comes across Appa - who reaches the Air Temple because he feels safe there - gains his trust, helps him heal and asks him to bring the letter to Aang. We also know why Aang didn’t get the letter - because Long Feng has been intercepting any and all correspondence and information to and about the Gaang. The guru and everything about him and the process of getting Aang to meet him makes sense within the working of the established world - that is what makes him a plot point instead of a deus ex machina. And above all, Pathik might have sent Aang a letter promising solutions to all his problems, but it is Aang who chooses to go to him and learn from him. It’s active instead of passive.

The same can be said about Katara’s spirit water and about her final battle with Azula, where she the epitome of a warrior the way Piandao describes it to Sokka in “Sokka’s Master”. This is another great example of the difference between plot point and deus ex machina, and more specifically an amazing example of a hero defeating their enemy and choosing to spare their life in an active way with no deus ex machinas.

And the funny thing is, they already made all the preparations to make Lion Turtle such a plot element as well! We know Lion Turtles exist because Aang sees them in a book in “The Library”. The Gaang made an active choice to seek out the library in order to find some information that would help them fight the Fire Nation, and they did find the information about the eclipse. Not only is this an important piece of information for the rest of the show, but it also sheds more light on Zhao’s character, his actions and what led to the siege of the North and Zhao’s quest to kill the Moon Spirit. Imagine that Aang would have taken the book with him, or at least did more than randomly flip some pages. Imagine him asking Pathik about it, and Pathik maybe knowing some stories about the powers they might have, about Energy Bending. Imagine that at the end of “The Phoenix King” Aang would have meditated in his room and asked the guidance of his past lives. Imagine him listening to them and taking an active choice to seek out the Lion Turtle. Imagine him talking to the Gaang and deciding together to split, Aang seeking out what he needs (maybe even going back to Pathik to finish his training and open his chakra, because, again - he can’t spare Ozai’s life without the Avatar State), while the rest of the Gaang joins the White Lotus on the other efforts to end the war, since the Fire Nation does not equal Ozai, and just because he is defeated doesn’t mean the army would stop attacking and there is still Azula to contend with. Imagine him seeking out the Lion Turtle asking for help and learning Energy Bending. Imagine him doing all of this and how great a story it could have been.

Aang had a choice - ideals or attachment. I would’ve said he chose both, but the thing is he didn’t choose at all. It was chosen for him. This is completely passive. There is no choice, there is no agency. He is no longer an active participant in his own story.

[blackasmidnightcats]

Continued discussion about Sophie's "redemption arc"

Original post from @agathasarmy

@agathasarmy I've moved this to a new post cause I have a lot of feelings and still want to continue this discussion and I hope you don't mind

So anyways...

(this wouldve been also a great way to introduce the concept of legacies, especially with the past vs. present. vs. future theme and it would also parallel tedros’ storyline as they’re both dealing with the fallout of carrying their predecessor’s glory)

YESSSS

All of them have big shoes to fill because of the people who've nurtured and believed in them

One thing I really hated in the camelot years was the lack of mourning that Agatha and Sophie did for Callis and Lady Lesso respectively.

That is the kind of anguish that I was looking for. Just them being children and missing their parent/parental figure and wishing that they could still be someone's child who could look out for them and motivate them when they needed.

Like Sophie remembering that Lady Lesso believed in her the way that Sophie could never do and Agatha remembering how her mother would have wanted her daughter to live out her life with with love and adventure.

Let's not even get with Tedros (that's a whole other meta in itself)

so far all i got was lesso and hester being the best examples of it, but what i also got from them was that Evil wasnt being cruel but serving as the balance to Good like ok???? what exactly does that entail??

Exactly, I'm really frustrated about this because as much as Soman has tried to make us understand that Good and Evil are equals, he has never actually shown us how equal they can be since all the Evil figures that we have are usually helping Good.

I'm really pissed that the Coven's quest involve them finding a new School Master when they have absolutely no need to do that. They should be doing their own stuff instead. It's the one thing I shame Prof Dovey for.

that was what I expected the series would be: Tedros and Agatha as Good because Good always stands stronger together, and Sophie as Evil because Evil is best alone, but not lonely

I stand behind your point about "Alone but not Lonely" quote because if that does not describe Sophie's biggest problem than I don't know what does. She can have all the fans that she wants and build the whole School for Evil in her tribute and pretend that she's a strong independent woman who doesn't need a man but she'll still feel the loneliness seep through if she doesn't have a closure with her insecurities and envy

instead Soman subverted our expectations in the worst way possible since GoT S8 (dont @ me)

I will stand by you with the hate for GoT s8. That was a trainwreck so badly done it imploded on itself. Recently, writers that have big productions have been having a hard time gracefully ending their stories

EXACTLY I JUST KNOW SOMAN’S GONNA BRUSH IT OFF OR BARELY MENTION IT WHEN THIS KIND OF DIALOGUE IS MORE IMPORTANT TO THE MESSAGE OF THE STORY THAN SOMAN RANDOMLY INSERTING DOVEY AS TEDROS’ GODMOTHER OR REAPER BEING KING FOR PLOT CONVENIENCE

I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL. I WILL NOT STOP BEING SO FREAKING BITTER ABOUT IT.

Soman was off with a good start on that one. I would have been more interested with Sophie trying to handle her narcissistic desires vs her need to actually be a decent Dean to all the new students just like how Lady Lesso was for her. Her understanding how to be Evil and be herself would have been a nice read.

if soman had to bring back a trope from the last era, it would be the discussion of dichotomies i.e. Good vs. Evil, instead of the evil lover trope cos aint nobody got the time for that

YESSS

It's still technically the school for GOOD AND EVIL SERIES even if we go to a new era I was hoping that Soman would still have these as the roots but NOOOO.

His obsession with Sophie obsessing over boys that obsess over her is a strong one apparently.

like at this point it’ just really blatantly obvious how much Soman favors Sophie and I wouldnt be that bothered if he didnt sacrifice the plot or the other characters’ brain cells to go along with it cos to this day I refuse to believe that people really would just accept Rhian like that after reading The Tale of Sophie and Agatha

EXCATLY. I HONESTLY COULD NOT UNDERSTAND SOME OF THE DECISIONS OF THE OTHER CHARACTERS ABOUT THIS.

Like did no one still understand that not everything is what it seems?!

I am baffled with how easy they trusted a comeplete stranger over Agatha who has proven over and over and over again that she fights for the good of EVERYONE and is perfecrly willing to sacrifice her happiness for theirs.

Like at this point I'm thinking that her fairy tale propably does not do justice for everything that she's been through cause if the other people of the Woods read her story the way we did, there would be no doubt that we would stand behind Agatha for a lifetime

like cmon people we went through this already?? a random hot stranger coming out of nowhere??? ITS THE RED FLAG

In defense with them, (and I am saying this very, very off handedly) Rhian did come around saving everyone's asses and was a pretty decent guy (NOT).

WHAT I AM REALLY SURPISED ABOUT IS THAT THEY WANT A PIECE OF HIM AND HOW EASILY THEY TRUSTED HIM WITH EVERYTHING

I THOUGHT THE POINT OF THIS SERIES WAS TO SHOW THAT ROMANCE WASN’T THE ONLY HIGHEST MANIFESTATION OF LOVE, BUT A LOVE BETWEEN FAMILY OR A LOVE FOR ONE’S SELF WAS JUST AS IMPORTANT????

One of my biggest beefs with Soman's writing. He highlights romance too much compared to platonic and self love. I want a moment with Sophie like the one in TLEA where Agatha was getting stressed about letting Sophie and Tedros grow closer and Soman managed to pretty realistically portray that; Agatha was being insecure and possessive and jealous but she let herself reflect on her actions. She made peace with it and faced it with bravery even though it really hurts her. Because she understood that she would never have closure for this if she didn't let it happen.

AGGIE IS THE BEST. I LOVE HER

Why the hell can't Soman write something similar like this for Sophie.

WHY SOMAN PUTTING THIS AMATONORMATIVE BS IN THIS STORY AGAIN LIKE WE ARE TIRED

In fairness, Sophie getting into ANOTHER romantic relationship I will PASS SO HARD.

But for everyone else that deserves some romantic love (TAGATHA PLS) I will accept crawling

also I like your ideas on what could’ve happened instead, with Rhian being more proactive towards Tedros and Agatha instead of Sophie - it would play well into the Camelot myths and themes that I was really expecting in the new era

I KNOW RIGHT?!?!?!

If Soman could only just get over his Sophie Obsession, then he would understand that Tedros was the perfect target for Rhian's manipulations and Sophie was the perfect target for the downfall.

I have no idea how the hell did Rhian think (but apparently it worked because soman plot) that seducing Sophie would win him the love of the Woods.

plus it wouldve been a chance for Sophie to actively help them instead of tearing them apart like in the last 3 books?? like she’s kinda doing that rn but it would’ve been nice if she didn’t have a hand in stealing their happiness like she’s always done too

Well...for me she doesn't seem like she's tearing them apart anymore but I stand with your point about her stealing their happiness.

This could have been good, good character development for her. Her realizing that she keeps making tagatha miserable and stealing what belongs to them and the complexity that comes with her inner struggle between her envy vs love for her best friends.

PLUS CHADDICK DESERVED TO LIVE INSTEAD OF BEING KILLED FOR PLOT CONVENIENCE LITERALLY IT’S THE WORST DEATH IN THE SERIES NOT COS IT’S SAD BUT COS IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE AND MAKES FOR TERRIBLE WRITING IMHO

"NOT COS IT'S SAD BUT BECAUSE IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE"

SCREAM IT A BIT LOUDER SO SOMAN CAN HEAR IT AT THE BACK!!!!

Soman, I will never forgive you for doing this to this boy.

You could have made Tedros and Chaddick have a falling out. I mean the last time that they interacted was during AWWP and Chaddick treated Tedros as crap. I know that all of us headcanon that these two are each other's best mates but they've barely had significant interactions for me to consider that a case.

They'd be so pressured about not followong the legacy of Arthur and Lance that a small problem could propably tear these two apart.

also, on another point, you would think Sophie would be more sympathetic to Tedros situation given that they’re both leading populations, essentially

plus Sophie learned to understand Tedros’ mind better in awwp??? where the hell did that relationship development went (even if she was Filip at the time)??

I am honestly more suprised at how viciously Tedros seems to treat her.

Like it wasn't that long after TLEA that Tedros was perfectly willing to let Sophie stay in Camelot and even asked her to visit but come his coronation (which was like less than a day after) he keeps on proclaiming about how happy he is with her out his life and in aCoT his distrust for her was off the roof.

Then there is the Handbook ordeal with Sophie just completely roasting Tedros like what happend to the two of you?

I don't even understand Soman's decision about this. It doesn't even affect the actual storyline in anyway. It's just Sophie and Tedros at each other's throats.

Tedros has been treated the crappiest out of the main trio (let’s be honest) as if the game was built to oppose him, meanwhile Sophie gets major Soman privilege and is given the role ONCE AGAIN that could change the game

THIS

It's the reason why I can't even read AWWP anymore. It hurts too much to have to read at how badly the other characters treat him. Just reading the first line of that book gets me anxious.

And PREACH THAT SOPHIE HAS MAJOR SOMAN PRIVILEGES.

This is why I was actually suprised that Soman shared that he planned on killing Sophie off at the end of TLEA but we'll never how that story went

like if the School Years was for Sophie to realize and accept her Evilness, couldnt Soman have decided to give Tedros and Agatha the deciding roles this time around given that, you know, it’s called the CAMELOT YEARS ERA???

Honestly, I just want Tedros to have the most agency out of all the characters. Like make his decisions actually matter to the plot. Make him the center of the plot and revolve Rhian's plans around him instead of being against him cause that's exactly how Agatha's role in the school years era was for Rafal.

The basic formula goes like this;

Sophie important to the Rafal's/Rhian's/Japeth's/hell even Evelyn Sader's plan

Agatha/Tedros are in the way of that plan so they have to go

Agatha/Tedros saves Sophie's ass

Sophie making the big decision

Like didn't Soman say that he didn't want to be that repetitive writer? That's why he changed the ending of AWWP because it was too similar to the first book?

WTF SOMAN?

she’s still out here wanting someone to look at her the tedros looks at agatha (honestly big mood right there) but I wish this didn’t have to be her main conflict

This is actually why I'm not that mad that Sophie fell for Rhian. Because at the end of the day Sophie will be Sophie.

But I agree I kinda hoped that she wouldn't be as guilible

the girl is smart and knows her worth so I can’t really understand why she decided to get ENGAGED to the next person (Hort obviously cant count cos plot) who tells her she looks pretty???

NOW THIS. THIS IS MY BEEF WITH SOPHIE.

I can understand why she'd date him but MARRIAGE?! That was going a little bit too far.

You'd think after her engagement with Rafal that she'd be TRAUMATIZE for the next one.

And honestly it would have been hella funny if she did feel this way. Imagine Rhian nearly getting all that he needed but Sophie just straight up leaves him on the stage cause she's still got issues with it.

Would have been my favorite scene

And Hort, poor boy, he needs character development of his own. I'm not his fan honestly and currently, he's not winning me over.

ALSO THE FACT THAT SHE ENDS UP BEING CONSIDERED FOR THE ROLE OF QUEEN OF CAMELOT INFURIATES ME SO MUCH COS WE WENT THROUGH THAT SHIT IN TLEA???? WHY ARE WE BRINGING THIS UP AGAIN????

THIS. THIS IS MY BEEF WITH SOMAN

Can he not understand that she would be crap as QUEEN?

A parallel I noticed with Rhian and Sophie is that they both completely remodeled their respective castles in their image. Not even considering anyone else. And they both treat their faculty as crap.

Kinda tells us that she really would be crap as queen.

At least the Camelot citizens had enough braincells not to fall for this crap

Every other kingdom in the Woods though. They better be budgeting gold to Tedros and Agatha once they're back on the throne.

(and im so so tired of Sophie stealing Agatha’s Ever After from her, indirectly or not, like cant she just be happy for her best friend and move the plot in some way other than this???)

I really do believe envy is only one of the things that Sophie needs to sort out. The fact that she admitted at the end of TLEA that she does, in fact, feel envious that Agatha gets to be a queen and her little episode in the Ever Never Roundtable about how she's the one with the official title of queen and that Agatha isn't even a princess says a lot.

I wouldn't have minded if Sophie had a slight blackout and just lost it and saying mean things about Agatha but instantly regreting it because no matter what, deep down in the foundations of her soul, she loves Agatha with everything that she has. And is she has the be in a constant battle with herself about this fact then she's willing to keep on fighting. That would have been satisfying to read.

I mean just imagine if Sophie was there when Agatha was leading her army and Hester mentions that Agatha is Queen in the School, in Camelot, or anywhere elsse in the Woods. They would follow her. Willingly.

Sophie would have had a panic attack.

This girl needs to learn that she can't force people to be loyal and follow her by making every physical reminder of how amazing she is but instead she needs to lead and make some sacrifices of her own because she's doing these sacrifices in the benefit of Evil and its future instead of herself.

Sophie appreciating people?? Not only remembering them when she needs something from them??? Like @ soman im not asking her to be the next Mother Theresa but I’ll take this character development pls and thank u

I am all in for Sophie appreciating everyone. If she can't do it for other people, then she better do it for Evil.

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence: Atonement chapter 17

Ansem always had a penchant for strays, so it's not at all surprising when he takes in the orphaned child Ienzo. The boy's presence changes everything, far more than Even is willing to admit. Ienzo's brilliance seems promising, but the arrival of a young Xehanort pushes the apprentices onto a dark, cruel, inhumane path which will affect the future of the World. And even once it's all over with--once Xehanort is dead--they still must pick up the pieces, forgive one another, find a way to atone for their atrocities, and struggle to accept the humanity which has been thrust upon them.

Or: Even's journey from BBS through post-KH3

Chapter summary:  Even and Ansem repair their old friendship, growing closer in an unexpected way. Even's newest research project breaks his stagnation.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

It takes time.

Time of conversations, of walks, arguments. Time digging through the muck of their pasts. It is still hard to trust one another; it might always be. But they seem to be getting somewhere, and Even will take somewhere after nowhere.

He tells Ansem about those long twelve years under Xemnas's thumb; about the replicas, Roxas, all they did to make worlds fall. About vain attempts at Kingdom Hearts, about the dissolution of his rapports with Zexion, Lexeaus, and especially Xaldin; the horrors of Castle Oblivion; his own death. He recounts it with a sort of distance, and then rolls up one of his sleeves to show Ansem part of the scars.

"How's that for karmic payback?" he asks dryly.

Ansem examines his arm with a stricken expression. Then, deliberately or not at all, he runs his fingertip along it. "Does it still ail you?"

The touch is unsettling; though why? Even is feeling something unfamiliar. Discomfort? Uncertainty?

Something else entirely? He was never good at feelings.

"Not so much," he says. "Though most of the flesh is numb. You may get some pleasure from the fact that I was first to die."

Ansem doesn't comment on this. "And this devastation is… total?"

"All but my face, hands, throat, and feet. I suppose I should be grateful for that--hard to do delicate work if one cannot feel one's fingers." He can feel the blood in his face. "My body does not matter, so long as it does not collapse on me."

"At our age vanity is just that," he agrees. "I am… sorry."

He barks an awkward laugh. "What for?"

"None deserve to die so violently."

"Blame Axel's flair for the dramatic. A simple slice to the jugular would have been sufficient."

There are a few beats of silence. Ansem taps the tips of his fingers together, restlessly. “And the others?”

“How did we die?”

“Is that too… voyeuristic to ask?”

“I don’t believe so.” Even sighs. “Xaldin and Demyx were both felled by Sora, Lexeaus by Riku, Zexion by… Axel’s machinations. I’m afraid it’s all rather violent. But it was necessary, to be whole. Seems to go against the grain.”

“It does,” he agrees.

“Things seem to make less and less sense to me the longer I live.”

Ansem chuckles. “That’s how it seems. Wisdom is merely… negative learning.”

Months, and months, and months--

He and Ansem seem to be developing a warmer rapport. It is easier to be with one another, to be frank. Something like their old friendship peers through the cracks. It gives Even hope, for the first time in a long, long while. Hope that they might yet be saved. Things warm between the rest of them, as well. The talk is not so dreadfully existential. This is helped considerably by the two boys; Ienzo’s dry humor and Demyx’s easygoing nature are encouraging. The idea of all having dinner together is no longer so awkward, but rather something to look forward to.

When possible, Even helps Ienzo with his memorial project for their victims, in its final draft. One spring day, the boy presents it to them, explains at length what it means; the symbolism of flowers, the presentation of their records, the histories of those impacted by what they did. It’s the culmination of an entire year.

Hearing it all, Even is filled with something like pride for the boy, the way he so gracefully has taken responsibility. It is something he himself must learn to do.

Radiant Garden elects a city council, a group of seven individuals to take the brunt of the work from the committee. There’s some worry as to whether they may face legal consequences for what they did, but eventually, and along with the committee’s vouch, they’re allowed to remain as they were, so long as they provide their assistance. As this is what they all want anyway, it’s no issue. Ansem acts as advisor; with this to fill his days, he improves.

They’re allowed to build the garden. Almost everyone spends as much time here as possible, doing what they can. It’s good to work with the body.

Once it’s all done…

For a while he and Ansem stand in front of the wall of names. He places incense in the altar, lights it; many other burnt sticks are already crowding the stone.

I’m sorry.

He doesn’t say it, not out loud. They’re resting in a place beyond words, no thanks to him. His heart is racing, and he can feel the wetness in his eyes. As much progress as they’ve made, the guilt will be there, probably forever. And rightfully so.

Ansem rests a hand on his shoulder. “Peace, Even,” he says gently. “It’s alright.”

Perhaps it’s this implication of forgiveness, but he breaks. It seems all the pain is at the surface now; the loss of his family, the brunt of what he’s done. It hurts to be forgiven. He does not nearly deserve it.

Ansem gently embraces him. To be touched is something of a shock, and for a moment it only intensifies this crying fit. More pathetic yet, he’s clinging to him like a lifeline in this storm.

But once it’s through, once he so slowly collects the pieces of himself, dries his eyes, there’s something like catharsis, an undoing rather than a sealing away.

(And, he notes, Ansem still smells the same.)

“I… must apologize,” he says thickly. “This is most unbecoming.”

“I daresay you could use a cup of tea,” Ansem says, letting go of him.

“Perhaps something stronger.”

---

Even knows time is passing, as much as it may not feel like it. He shouldn’t be surprised when gossip is laid at his feet, brought by Dilan, who heard it from Ansem, who heard it from the city council, who heard it from the committee, who heard it from Demyx. It’s a complicated game of telephone, but as soon as Even hears it, he knows it’s not mere rumor:

Ienzo and Demyx are engaged.

He’s gotten used to the boy by now, but yet he feels something like the anger he had when he first found out they were together. Because god Ienzo is just so young . Much too young to make a decision like this. Almost getting himself killed is one thing, but… getting married? At twenty-one?

“That so,” he says to Dilan.

He smirks. “What can I say. My sources are reliable.”

“You should’ve been a journalist, not an engineer.” He leans against his palm. “Has anyone talked to him about it?”

“Not quite.” He shrugs. “Would it be the worst thing?”

“At this point in their neurological development, they are literally incapable of making consequential decisions. I don’t want them to do something they’ll regret.” His heart is beating hard with dread.

A shrug. “I’d take a divorced Ienzo over a dead or depressed one. Besides. Wasn’t your marriage rather spur-of-the-moment?”

He has a point. Still, Even feels blood rush into his face. “I’ll talk to him.”

He doesn’t have to wait long; the boy comes to him with a thick manuscript, a more portable version of the stories he’s gathered from their victims, and the survivors. It feels… odd, to hold it in his hands. Odd and uncomfortable. He knows the truth of it. Yet to hear their words is… well. Power to the boy for being able to handle it. “I never pictured you as a soft scientist,” Even says instead.

Ienzo exhales. He needs glasses now, the first concrete sign of his humanity catching up to him. “You’re going to be frightfully disappointed in me, but I no longer derive any pleasure or fulfillment from so-called “harder” subjects.”

Even frowns. “Why on earth would I be disappointed?” As though pursuing his passions were a bad thing?

“I do recall a period in my life when you found my perusal of fiction a waste of time, when I could be studying.”

He sets the book down. “We all know what a fool I was, back then. No.” He smiles. “The only way I’d be disappointed in you was if you were to waste your life faffing about. But you were never lazy.”

He scratches his cheek.  “I understand the… trepidation, you might feel,” he says slowly. “And… it is quite harrowing.”

Even drops his eyes. “I can only imagine what the experience has been like, for you.”

“...Gathering these stories?” He hesitates. “Not everyone is… willing to share such dark content of their hearts. I’ve had more than one door slammed in my face.” He wrings his hands. “I’d hoped that my suspicion regarding everyone’s opinion of us was mere paranoia, but some folks do feel a certain… ire. Not that I can blame them.” He clears his throat.  “It’s… worth it, to hear their voices. We… need to understand the human impact. I don’t mean the numbers.” He is shy, sheepish. “I have… written something of an abridged memoir, myself.”

Ienzo always loved stories. It must be one of the many ways he’s trying to take care of himself. “It would only make sense. You are one of the victims.” Used, manipulated, stunted, deprived of a normal life.

He flinches. “Victim and perpetrator in one. Seems I am fated to live in dichotomy.” He inhales sharply. “I have already spoken to the others. It might be valuable to give your own version of events. Not necessarily for publication.”

Funny boy. “For the good of my recovery?”

The earnestness almost makes Even laugh. “Well, yes. You had said you were trying to write and reflect, to delineate a new identity. How is this any different? Your perspective could offer some insight to future generations, when they inevitably look back at all this.”

“Record keeping,” Even mutters. “Very well. I… will consider it. Are you alright?”

He flinches, again, and presses a hand to his brow. “I had hoped these new glasses would lessen my headaches, but that appears not to be the case.”

Concern blooms in him. “You’re still getting them? After all this time?” Surely it isn’t healthy.

He smiles, but it looks fake. “Not frequently. You needn’t worry. Take as much time as you’d like with it. I have other copies.”

“I shall, but…” Even looks him over. He is improved compared to those early days--a healthy weight and color--but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still feeling the ramifications of all he did. “ Do let that fiance of yours take a look at you. Apparently he’s quite competent.” He waves his hand dismissively.

Ienzo, hearing the word, flushes; caught.

“Did you actually think you could keep it under wraps?” Even asks. “What with Dilan’s inane gossiping?”

“Not… secret. I don’t see why my personal life should be of interest to anyone.”

“Of course it will be, when we live on top of one another.” He debates biting this bullet. “You are so… very young. So young.”

He scowls. “As nobody will let me forget.”

“I don’t want you to get into something so permanent. You’re barely stable yourself.” When Ienzo says nothing, he adds-- “Even if you were not only twenty-one, you’ve only been with him a year. I realize you are not used to the idea of permanence, but this will be--”

“It was I who asked him.”

He blinks. Not at all what he thought. “I’d’ve--figured--”

He’s rather snappish when he says, “Demyx is very respectful of my boundaries. He would not force me into anything I did not explicitly ask for. Should it end, we will deal with it maturely. But I don’t see that happening.”

Again, his mind’s made up. Concern wells in Even. But he supposes Dilan must be right. The boy should be allowed to make his own choices. His life has already been so tempestuous; this might offer him a shred of stability, artificial or no. “Do you truly want this?” Even asks. “Would it make you happy?”

“Yes,” he says. “And I am already happy. Insofar as I can be, anyway.”

Then that’s that. “I suppose I will always see you as a… child.”

He sighs. “Par for the course when you raise someone.You were always… more my guardian than Ansem. But you must trust I am able to make my own decisions. After all, you--”  He blushes.

“I what?”

“It was not me you came back to Radiant Garden for.”

“You know why I had to leave. Ienzo, I did not want to, but who else would’ve--”

“...I know.” He bites his lip. “Still. A note would’ve been appreciated. You needn’t protect me anymore. Especially from Demyx.”

Even sighs. “Old habits die hard. Or so the cliche goes.”

“...Right. Well. I shall leave you to it, then.” He leaves, allowing Even to consider the manuscript in front of him. It takes a few minutes of culling his nerve to open it.

One could not call Ienzo a “concise” writer. His language is flowery, emotional; he plays with the voices of the survivors, curating it carefully. Even wonders if, had the boy been raised differently, he might’ve been a writer after all.

It is harrowing. The heartbreak and torment these people went through--the snippets of it--

Even once she was back, she was never the same.

He just vanished. We thought it might’ve been the wolves, beyond the city limits. But then we heard those stories about the castle and I… I just knew, in the pit of my stomach. I felt so betrayed by the king. Why did he let this happen?

I kissed their cheek, tied the ribbon in their hair. They were so excited to go; their whole class was rooting for them. They never came home.

Even feels nauseous. Still, he continues. He knows he needs to do this, to listen to them. To again feel that human weight.

Perhaps the most upsetting part of it is Ienzo’s, shoehorned at the very back.

I know people must think we’re monsters. It is only right, it is only true . Yet we were also subjected to the darkness we bore, its ache, the way it destroys all that is good. My unraveling was a slow one, one I am still trying to fix. But is anything we do ever enough?

Is it?

---

So Even writes again, abridging his manic, borderline unintelligible journals from the months prior into something halfway readable. It’s hard to find the balance, between feeling and fact, what will make a cohesive narrative. He was never a writer, nor, he thinks, does he want to be. He gives Ienzo some suggested edits and leaves it all at the child’s favorite desk in the library.

Again there’s that stiff sense of catharsis, of a sort of release. His mind is so much more tangled than he ever thought. More complex.

(More human.)

He wonders, with something like a flash, if in fact darkness harnesses the mind like addiction. It truly is a euphoric pull. If only, if only he had working MRI equipment to study the mind. All he has is blood, is feelings. That doesn’t account for much. Not watertight science.

He finds himself rambling about this to Ansem, of all people.

This seems to shake him; for several moments Ansem just stares into the middle distance, something stricken on his face. Then, “Even, you’re a genius.”

“Don’t be absurd--it’s been in my face all along, yet I’ve ignored the signs--”

“We all have. We thought this was about morality--and it is, of course we’re still accountable for our actions. But all this… difficulty becoming human, the way we were undone so quickly… it makes a sort of sense. Why we couldn’t stop even though we knew what we were doing.”

“Which is why I’m positively aching to study our minds,” he says, pacing. “I’ve no functioning machinery. A blood test won’t tell me much of anything anymore, except chemistry, and it’s so variable considering we’re all basically guaranteed to have multiple mental illnesses outside of this supposed “addiction”. There’s simply no way--”

“Oh, I can think of one,” Ansem says.

Even snorts. “Really? Name it.”

“We do know a few people who work with the body. In a way that is not quite literal.” A smile. “Not everything has to be so black and white.”

He blinks. “That is… absolutely correct.”

---

When Even asks Demyx about it, he also gives him that same odd look.

“Well fuck,” he says. “I mean I’m happy to help, but like, I’ve only been doing this for a few months now. Not sure I can… collect data, or whatever.” He spins idly on one of Even’s stools.

“You said you work with people’s energies. What does that tell you?”

He blows a raspberry. “Mostly it’s a… well. It depends. Like a color, or a note. Your personality, basically. But actually feeling inside the brain…” He looks at his hands. “You know… I’ve been desperately trying to repress it, but I’ve been inside someone’s head. I felt their…” He flinches. “Anyway. I wouldn’t know what to look for.”

“That I can help you with. And I can be guinea pig--if necessary.”

He bites his lip. “This will help people?”

“I’m positive.”

“Okay. Sure. I’m in.” He ruffles the hair at the back of his neck. His knee is jiggling. He doesn’t quite want to meet Even’s eyes. “I’ve gotta… do some reading. Some asking around.”

“I’m sure.”

“So guess I’ll go?”

“Of course. Thanks, Demyx. This means a lot to me.” To think there'd be a day when he willingly sought Demyx's help, his expertise.

He flashes a peace sign and stands.

“Wait.”

He tenses. He knows they’ve both been anticipating this. “Yeah?” he asks cautiously.

“You and Ienzo…” Even trails off. “Is this what you want as well?”

He looks up. He’s blushing. “It really is. I…” He bites his lip. “Love is weird and terrifying, but we kind of… helped each other become human. Kind of literally for me. Not sure if that’s why things between us are so intense. I can’t imagine it changing.”

“...I see.” He can tell there’s some realization to be gleaned from this; he can also tell that he desperately does not want to know it. “Very well.”

“Guess you can’t get rid of me after all,” he says. He smiles a little. “See ya.”

---

Love.

Why is Even thinking about this?

Feelings are complicated enough without adding romance to it. Familial, platonic love is one thing; anything else is too much.

He was married, once.

He still can’t be sure he truly loved that person the way they all blathered on about. A love, not the love. Is this something he would want? Is he worthy of anyone? It’s surely not necessary. But for the first time Even desires a personal life… whatever that may mean. His work/life balance has never been ideal, in his brief time as a spouse, a parent. This vein of thought alone is indulgent. He should shunt it away, bury it. Besides, to want this type of love would mean there has to be an object of such affection… and there isn’t one.

He decides to ask Ansem about it.

“I’m afraid I can’t be much use,” he says, barely looking up from the papers spread all across his desk. It’s a familiar sight, yet also one Even hasn’t seen in years. He chuckles wryly. “But Even, you are a human being. You have a right to these things, should you so want them.”

“What, and force someone else to put up with me? Perhaps my synapses are misfiring.”

Ansem circles something on the paper in front of him. “These people write law like they were raised in a barn.” Then, “I suppose they were. Anyway, perhaps you should view it as a sign of growth. You always held others at arm’s length--even before you became a Nobody. Now, you’re allowing people into your life, your heart.” He twirls a pen vaguely.

“It certainly does not feel like growth.” He scoffs. He shifts a little in his seat. “Is that something you ever saw for yourself? You’ve never mentioned a spouse, a lover.” This almost seems as if it is getting too personal. “Does it simply not interest you?”

“I… wouldn’t say that.”

Oh?

“I am improving, true. I think it will be some time before I can confidently… pursue such matters.”

“...It sounds almost as if you have a certain individual in mind.” Ansem is fond of writing letters; perhaps some pen pal?

There is just the slightest hesitation, almost unnoticeable. “I do believe Dilan’s gossip mongering is getting to you.”

“...Perhaps.”

---

What does it mean?

Moreover, why does he care?

Every time Even tries to push the question out of his mind, it comes back with a vengeance. He keeps coming back to that interaction. And every time, it gives him a jolt of something like fear. He refuses to think critically about it. More important work at hand.

He’s again spending more time with Demyx; moreso, actually, than with Ienzo. If they’re to work together, it’s par for the course. But Demyx isn’t a scientist. Some things are simply beyond his realm of understanding. The boy is trying to study the texts that Even leaves him, but it all seems to worry him.

“Not sure I’m cut out for this,” he says. “You should really just ask Aerith.”

Even frowns. “Why not?”

“I…” He looks down at his hands, which are trembling. “I’m a total newbie. Who knows if what I find is even right?”

“I thought you’ve done this before?”

He flinches. “Once. And… not under ideal circumstances. I had to… stop someone from having a stroke.” He’s flushing.

“This is not nearly so invasive.”

“I know that, but…” He traces a finger along the page.

Even frowns. “What’s wrong? I don’t believe you’ll hurt anyone. I just want to look for injury, response, that’s all. Which is something you do every day.”

Demyx shakes his head. “It’s not that. I guess I should be honest. Family, and all.”

Even feels a thick wave of anxiety. “...What?”

He drops his eyes. “The person was Ienzo.”

His heart falls to his feet. Even feels his hand at his breastbone. “But the boy’s fine,” Even says.

“Yeah. Now. These… headaches. It was more than just the manifestation of his will, or whatever. It was an accumulation of years of stress. Like the glasses. All the fucked up shit that happened to his body caught up to him. I was just lucky enough to be there when it happened.” His eyes are watering, and he blinks hard. “I just feel really icky when I think about it.”

Even squeezes his shoulder gently, in an attempt to comfort. “I don’t… blame you.” Ienzo is the youngest of all of them. If he has--or had--such problems, what could be wrong with the rest of them? “You’ve gotten yourself looked at, I hope?”

“I… yeah. There would’ve been some trouble with my heart. But Aerith knew what to look for, so she fixed it.” He lays a palm on his chest.

It’s becoming clear. “You’re scared of what you might find in the rest of us?”

“Maybe. It’s weird. I’m not used to my patients… being us.”

Even is also unsettled. Of course he knows that he’s treated his body poorly in the past--too much work, not enough food or sleep--but it’s another thing to embody that knowledge.

“At least it can be fixed,” he says slowly. “I don’t want to fuck up. Any time--but especially if it’s you guys. I… sort of care.” He laughs wryly.

“Well I’m afraid you’ve gotten yourself into a situation where you must be involved with us.”

“It’s easier now than it was back then. Don’t you think?”

“It gets easier every day.”

---

The pit keeps getting deeper. Every time he thinks he understands just how much darkness has destroyed them, it grows yet more cataclysmic. The stress--while they did not necessarily feel it as Nobodies--is having infinite consequences. After some prodding, he is able to convince them all to give him a sample of their DNA, to further study their epigenomes. It’s engrossing work--work that might help future generations avoid their perilous mistakes. The sample size is still incredibly small, and incredibly skewed. No women, for example, and most of them are middle-aged (or, begrudgingly, older). He wonders if the townsfolk would be willing to participate, but as soon as the thought forms he’s aware of the paranoia.

“I can bring it up to the city council,” Ansem says one evening, in his quarters. “And put out some feelers. They claim to be so interested in the people’s emotional state. And we are desperate for some kind of mental health treatment. This might help beget that.”

Even feels exhausted. He still has so much to do. He has to admit it’s nice to be driven again, to have a goal to work towards. It certainly has lifted him out of that dark, dangerous place. “Oh, I certainly hope so.”

Ansem puts down his pen, stretches his wrist. “I must say modesty becomes you.”

Even scoffs. “Funny.”

“I mean it. You’ve changed more than you think. I’ve so rarely seen you approach things with grace and tenderness.”

“Flowery words.” He picks at the ends of his hair, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. “I spent so long working so selfishly. I said it was for the greater good, but really it was for the greater good of… Even.” He winces. “To know I can actually help, or at the very least leave behind a study that might help future generations… is a comfort.” He leans his elbows onto the table. “I’m exhausted.”

“You look it. You should try to get some rest.”

“...Perhaps. I’ll get up when I can find the ambition.”

He picks the pen back up. “No reason you can’t sit with a friend.”

“...You would consider me one?”

Ansem raises an eyebrow. “As if I would let you sit here blathering on otherwise?”

Even rolls his eyes.

“I do enjoy your company. Rather more than I used to. I am starting to… let go of the bitterness. It does nothing except make me harder and less tolerable. You are all trying so hard to better yourselves… I’d best follow suit.”

There’s a few moments of silence, but it’s comfortable. Even finds himself, again, thinking of their previous conversation. He’s almost tempted to ask. Should he? And why is such a thought putting a tightness in his throat? “...So what do you think of this wedding?” he asks instead.

Ansem fully sets aside his work, and leans back in the chair. “I did not think it would happen so soon. But they work well together, as a pair. Why wait, as it were. Demyx is an earnest young man, and he’s also changed so much. He really would do anything for Ienzo. And I think after so much neglect, Ienzo deserves as much love as he can find.”

“...It’s so… funny, I suppose. For the longest time all of us rotting in that castle could not tolerate each other, and here we are… quite literally family.”

“Better than being alone.”

“...It is. It took me a long while to realize I could not live that way. Too long. People need… people.” His lip curls.

Ansem laughs. “Quite.” He takes Even’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Besides, some deserve a fresh start.”

Even blinks. He should move his hand, but finds himself almost immovable. He recalls that night many years before, when he was bedridden with that flu. The way the touch seemed like it was always there. It sounds almost as if you have a certain individual in mind.

Even. You dunce.

Too slowly, he withdraws. “I should… get some sleep. We’ve both had long days.”

Ansem looks vaguely startled. “Yes. Well. Good night.”

“Good night.”

He limps back to his quarters, feeling vaguely nauseous, like he’s been punched. His heart rate is erratic. This is something very like panic, but at the same time, not quite. His mind races. It aches.

Isn't this what you've desired?

With Ansem?

He feels like he can't breathe.

Are these feelings real, or his?

What does he want ?

That simple touch--a squeeze of the hand--is almost enough to unravel him. Much less--

He can not mentally compute it.

Even has to come out with it. To verbalize the thought in whole. To love Ansem?

And yet. Who else could it possibly be?

Is he in love?

He certainly isn't alone.

But isn't love instantly knowable?

Either way, Ansem likely has feelings for him. What does this mean? Is this what he wants?

After so long without anything, love and lust are incalculable. Unobtainable.

What does Even want?

Is he worthy?

He can't breathe.

---

"Even?"

He's pretending to sleep when he hears the voice. "Is something the matter?"

"...I would like a word." Ansem's voice is gruff, scratchy.

"Now?"

"Are you really asleep?"

A fair point. He puts on his robe. Finds Ansem in the doorway. (His heart stutters--a warning sign.) "What do you need?"

"...I'd like to talk."

He gets dressed. Follows Ansem down the hall in this silky blue night. His heart races, flooding him with cortisol.

(And something like hope.)

They walk for a few minutes. "So what exactly couldn’t wait until morning?" Even asks.

Ansem hesitates. "My words fail me. I… can… feel something."

"Congratulations."

He touches Even's shoulder. "I thought you may feel something as well."

His heart about shatters. "Ansem. You deserve more than me. A person who is whole, untainted, better than some wretch--"

Ansem touches his cheek, and his world about stops. "You are so much more than that."

In this dark hallway, Ansem leans up and, so gently, kisses him on the mouth.

It’s bizarre; how the body remembers what to do. It has to be close to fifteen years since he’s kissed someone, but yet something about this is so familiar. His smell, the subtle scratch of his beard. Like it’s all happened before. Something like panic replaces the hard-won pleasure, and he breaks away. He finds himself tensing, breaking away all too soon.

“Are you alright?” Ansem asks.

“I’m not so sure. I just… why?”

“Haven’t we spent long enough being miserable and alone?”

“I… suppose.” He’s infinitely grateful for the semidarkness. He can feel himself unravelling.

“Do you want this?”

“What I want doesn’t matter.”

“But it does.” Ansem takes Even’s hands.

“We took this sort of thing from people. Do we really deserve it?”

“And what is the alternative?” Ansem asks softly. “Locking yourself away? Grinding down your own emotions? None of that will meaningfully help you atone.”

He can hear himself breathing tremulously. “Alright.”

“Alright, what?”

Even can feel his words failing as well. “I will… try. But it’s been… I feel so--” A stuttering wreck.

“We’re not young. We’ve no need to rush headfirst into things.”

“I need to… process all this.” He pulls away his hands. “I can find you later.”

“Of course.” Ansem chances kissing him once more. It’s quick, chaste, and yet is all too much. All of this touch is. Even can feel himself getting choked up. “Good night, Even.”

He listens to his footsteps retreating into the darkness. Despite the warmth of the early fall evening, he’s shivering. It’s not normal, to react this way; he knows this much. Below the anxiety, he feels something very like relief. Closure. He’s known Ansem longer than he’s known anyone. It’s only suitable they find one another now.

He sinks wearily into bed, and sleeps.

[getaroomyouheck]

wrote a review for Hospice by The Antlers

(little precursor to this review, it's rather emotional and personal, maybe also upsetting, kinda stream of consciousness at points too. so a warning in advance) The beginning to 2020 has been one of the roughest moments of my entire life, honestly speaking it's the most aimless and fucking lost I've felt in a while. My grandfather essentially gave up on living and now simply just sits and waits for his eventual death, taking a toll on me, but specifically my mom. Having heard her anger but eventually just simply harrowed emotion of seeing her father at this state. Alongside this, I've almost felt momentary lapses of reason, moments where I feel back in my hollow shell of a body left behind by ones who hurt me in my past, people i once called friends as well as my abusive ex-girlfriend. Broken promises, lies, empty betrayals, actions that left me afraid of human touch. Combined together, the past month I barely even felt like myself, just a shell of who I should be. Yet at this endless sea of wander, I've come to realize something. Something that has helped me begin to finally feel like myself again. Something that I would've only found through the help of this album. So, I want to talk about it, and really go into what it means to me Hospice is, at it's core, an album about abuse, trauma, and the psychological reparations of broken relationships. From the first words sung on Kettering to the final refrain of Epilogue, this albums breathes and bleeds raw emotion as it's main sense of catharsis and sense of meaning. The concept of this album is one that's simple enough to grasp, our narrator (I'll call him Peter since the lead singer of The Antlers is named Peter), is a nurse at a hospice. He falls in love with Sylvia, a woman who is fatally dying of cancer, and the album from Kettering to Epilogue explores their degrading love, her abuse towards him as she withers, and her eventual death. The conceptual narrative to Hospice is one that, while strong and fully developed across the 10 songs present, is second-nature to why this album hits as hard as it does. Where this album hits closest to me, is in how uncompromising its portrayal of abuse, toxic love, and psychological damage on a fragile mind, ends up being, that is what makes Hospice stand above most of its contemporaries. The prologue to the album, while a beautiful instrumental chop that sets the mood, to me, isn't really where this album begins. The true beginning, lies in our 2nd track. Kettering Within this bubble of echoed piano chords, comes our first signs of what's to come. Peter's frail, broken falsetto's, speaking over what little he knew getting into this relationship. It's a unceasing icy reminder of anguish, each hit of the chord being another lie told, another object thrown, another vicious word spat out in agony, all containing this soft yet obvious punctum to their hits. In this dirge of utter misery, Peter spills out from his heart true bleeding words of what abuse really represents. You wish you knew what you would've gotten yourself into when you became a piece of this other persons life, you wish you had the foresight to know you're just one person, that you can't save them from their own demons. Yet, you still try anyways, in an unceasing hope that you might just be able to bring them closure. From Kettering onwards to about Shiva, we get more of a standard fare of what was presented prior There's an inquantifiable amount of depth I can get into. How Atrophy perfectly captures the justification of abuse from the victim, showing what it means to accept ones abuse as a warped sense of adoration. How Bear is a dichotomy of a soft, broken lullaby alongside this crashing chorus of fuzzy guitars, accurately representing the broken home a child would grow up in. How Two is a horrifyingly real portrayal of the false world and broken promises made manifest into a reality crafted by the abuser and the victim, the private life of suffering never to be seen. And especially, how Epilogue painfully captures the cycle of abuse and the clammy throes of falling for the lies and soft words of your abuser simply to let them hurt you more. Yet, the song I want to discuss the most here, is Wake Wake is, a song I can't fully even begin to describe. The sound of this song is haunting to the fullest degree. The lifeless breaths of a dying corpse always cutting through the lowkey instrumentation to which Peter lays bare the reality of being alone as his abuser has left him. This song sounds almost like a suicide note, like a final recording before taking ones own life. The pulsating, rythmic drumbeat feels as if it's a heartbeat, ready to cease on a lifeline. Layered vocals represent that of a Wake, the social circle around a funeral. It's steeped in the clammy hands of death and throes deeply in the jaws of abuse, the breath of death is fresh always present on the words Peter sings. Yet, lyrically, it doesn't mean that at all. This song is not a cry for help, but rather a championing cry for learning to open about the pain inflicted to you, that it's ok to speak, that some people can't be saved, but that's not your burden to bear. It all crashes into what is maybe one of the most powerful moments in all of music to me, one that without fail, makes me cry. Peter, repeatedly, with more and more strain and power to his voice, screams out "Don't ever let anyone tell you you deserve that" as it all washes away in this final maelstrom of emotion. The crashing cymbals, the layering ascending horns, the cutting piano chords, the choired vocals, this song is the beginning of letting go of the anguish that's festered deep inside you. This song, after 8 songs of utter pain and abuse, being hurt and apologizing to the one hurting you, is representative of finally beginning to realize what you had was broken, but accepting it's ok to find someone to listen to you, and finally taking that step forward. Finally, walking out that door, letting people in, and beginning to accept what you are for who you are. This song, to me, helps represent the emotions surging through me as i finally began opening up to my friends and current girlfriend about how I was emotionally abused and sexually harassed by my ex. How I began to trust and learn to accept the touch of another human. How I learned to realize I'm more than just what she saw me as. Wake is more than just a song to me, rather Wake is the culmination of learning to move forward from grief and toxic love, and try to begin again, maybe wishing you could change the past, but willing to move forward all the same This is what Hospice taught me, and what truly clicked with me as I listened to it this past month and a half. As much as I may want to, I can never go back in time and change the mistakes I made in my youth. I can never go back and stop myself from making friends with people who would only feed into my depression and suicidal ideation. I can never go back and stop myself from dating someone who would end up nearly raping me. I can never go back in time and speak with my grandpa before he gave up on his own life. But, what I can do, is move forward in spite of this pain, in spite of this grief, and learn to love again, to laugh again, to trust again, to continue facing forward anything that may ever face me. Hospice taught me that while I may have endured anguish, I'm still here despite it, and can still keep moving forward. That this burden isn't mine to brunt alone. That it's ok for me, to let people in Favorite songs: Kettering, Sylvia, Atrophy, Bear, Two, Wake (standout), Epilogue Least fav song: N/A

[notyouroriental]

not to show off my hot takes but here’s how i would have edited The Rise of Skywalker

don’t have the creative energy to re-write everything I found distasteful but here it is -- some spoilers below

keep the beginning the same. this was great. seeing Kylo go after Palpatine. tbh, an army of Star Destroyers doesn’t sound impressive enough, it would’ve been neater to have had an armada of something that maybe echoes the Death Star, maybe like another Starkiller Base and the plans for a whole system of them

enter a sequence of cuts between Rey training and Finn/Poe and co fighting

we see Kylo haunted by his visions of killing his father, Rey haunted by visions of the dark throne

same sequence of going to Pasaana, running into Lando, force healing the underground snake, etc.

the clue is something else instead of the dagger. the dagger looked gaudy. maybe like literal notes. or a chip with the directions to the location encoded on it in sith.

Rey still does her cool trick where she destroys Kylo Ren’s ship, Ren is injured, but the First Order still captures Chewbacca, the clue, and the Millennium Falcon. Rey and co are forced to take off.

Rose takes a peek at C3PO, and there’s tension between her and Poe regarding the attention they both want from Finn. It’s clear that since Leia died, she’s been running some things

our friends go to Kijimi to get C3PO’s memory to decode what’s up, and the same sequence of events occur, except:

Zorii is not Poe’s love interest. Maybe they have a teasing relationship, but Zorii isn’t sexualized Like That, she gets to have her face shown, there are some other old buddies, and she’s nothing more an old friend that helps to expand on Poe’s character, backstory, and provides the basis that funny bit where Finn harps on Poe for his wild past

Instead of revealing that Rey is a descendant of Palpatine, Kylo taunts her by saying that he knows that the Dark Side Calls To Her Too, revealing his plan to take the dark throne with her and rattles her pretty bad with some more vivid visions

Hux saves the crew from execution, he dies, etc.

Rey and her fun friends arrive on Kef Bir and we get another fight scene where a rattled Rey stays on the ship and a beaten Finn/Poe/Chewbacca are basically merked by Jannah & Crew, until they learn that they’re resistance and they make up.

Noticing that Finn fights like a stormtrooper/did something only a stormtrooper would do, but then seeing Rey as she walks out to see what’s going on, or a line that slips from Finn/Poe about the resistance

Rey’s fun friends being confused because they thought Jannah and crew were stormtroopers, maybe their armor being like refurbished Stormtrooper armor

Same deal happens with Rey taking off on her own, confronting Kylo, almost killing him, Leia giving up the rest of her life for Kylo, etc.

Kylo is torn with the appearance of the memory of his father. He, for once, instead of going on a rampage, collapses and cries, his sobs drowned out by a roaring sea.

Same events, etc, Rey getting a pep talk from Luke about how she shouldn’t isolate herself, keeping with the general theme of strength from our bonds with other people. It’s up to Rey to carry on the legacy of Jedi, but to also mend the mistakes it had made, and to embrace her relationships instead of shunning them bc that’s the best thing you can do to fight for what is right, etc etc etc, setting up the dichotomy between Dark/Light not being one about emotion/lack thereof but one between selfishness/valuing the people around you

this message ties to the promise that Palpatine made to Kylo at the beginning of letting all the power he wants be his as well as Kylo’s own desires to rule

the final battle lead up is the same except:

Poe not being able to do this alone even though Leia left him in charge, making up with Rose to share the leadership, their subplot is resolved

Intimate moment with Finn

Palpatine says that he knows that Rey’s been dreaming of the dark throne, that the real vision is just her on the throne, how he also came from nothing and made his way to where he was all on his own

Ben’s on his way back, swinging his lightsaber, is disarmed and beaten, Rey teleports Luke’s saber to him (almost cut this but this was a cool scene)

Palpatine drains Force Dyad Rey And Ben, force lightnings Ben off a cliff, Rey is knocked down, hears her Friends, Luke, and then Leia, and gets back up

Maybe some added voices as we pan over some Old Friends that have come to assist in the fight????

The Old Friends coming to assist is a major easter egg/fanservice moment and wasn’t capitalized it’s potential for that and for that I’m sorely dissapointed

same sequence of events

Couple changes here-- the different quality of the relationship between Poe and Zorii, (now) General Rose trying to command Finn (and his defected Stormtrooper buddies) to “sacrifice” themselves (but he does anyways, with a line about how they’ve never been good at following orders), only Finn and Jannah make it out

note of appreciation for how cool the double Skywalker sabers were

Rey is fatally wounded after destroying Palpatine with his own deflected lightning

This goes one of two ways:

Ben doesn’t make it in time, closes Rey’s eyes, takes up his mother’s saber, carries her back, we see the battle close and the hostile welcoming of Ben and then him vowing to make up for his past mistakes, he is a Skywalker Rising, he wears white now to symbolize that. The movie ends at the beginning of his redemption, a new era of Jedi, and the end of the First Order. 

Ben gives the last bit of life to Rey, something about how that last bit of life used to be Leia’s, he dies and they don’t kiss. Rey looks conflicted but accepts his death. We see Leia become one with the force.

The film ends the same way with Finn and Rose actually?? congratulating each other?? some sort of acknowledgement that the two characters actually INTERACT

Loved that Chewbacca finally got a medal. Cute.

Finn and Poe kiss. look. that’s my ideal. We all know that Disney doesn’t have the guts to do that. but that’s the ideal.

If Rey is still alive, she buries the sabers on Tatooine, and walks of into the double sunset and we see the Skywalkers double force ghosts, and then we see a last shot of Rey walking along the skyline. 

The idea was to preserve the idea that a “nobody” doesn’t have to be “somebody” in a mythology dictated by so many “somebodies”, keeping with the former themes of the movie, bringing in Rose more bc it’s what she deserves, FinnPoe, and a more reasonable timeline for Kylo’s “redemption”. This isn’t out of pure hatred for “Reylo” or whatnot, despite how it’s a little distasteful due to Kylo’s own actions to Rey. I’d have to be blind to ignore that there is some sort of connection, to be honest. But he needs a full redemption, and this movie didn’t even have one close to it. He’s done a lot of bad stuff and needs to be understood as such. Characters like that need to be held accountable. 

Nevertheless, for my last and final hot take, this movie was saved by the fight scenes and so it is, at least, a decent movie. The acting was good. It looked and sounded great. The only thing that really suffered was the plot.

[cultho]

Dororo Epilogue/Post-ending Standalone episode

*WARNING: SLIGHT SPOILERS AHEAD!!*

So I watched the ending and I had a lot of feelings about it, and I came up with a few ideas for a standalone post-episode to explore some concepts I would like to see from the show. Fyi, the pronouns I use for Dororo vary by situation, with a preference for he/him (my headcanon is Dororo is pretty genderfluid!).

About a year after Hyakkimaru went to find himself, aka end of the series (but before the timeskip where Dororo’s hair is long), the episode opens with opens with Hyakkimaru, feeling more at peace with himself, returning to the village Dororo was developing via dad's Harry Potter level of inheritance.

Dororo, who now basically rules this village despite being a literal 9 year old, hears word from his fellow villagers that a wandering stranger with a sword was spotted helping one of the rice farmers because their horse got caught in a ditch (or anything else of that nature). Of course, Dororo immediately comes running, and barrels straight into Hyakkimaru for the sibling reunion hug we deserve.

Then Dororo punches Hyakki on the arm and gives him a hard time for leaving for a whole year without even a ‘goodbye,’ asks 'So what made you decide to come back after a whole year, huh, punk?’

In response, Hyakki pulls out a small, worn, pouch and Dororo says 'woah - Mio’s rice seeds? I thought you would’ve planted them by now already.’

With a little smile, Hyakki goes 'I thought about doing that, but then I remembered you were close with her too, so you have as much of a right to these seeds… so I decided to wait until we could plant them together.’ 

The rest follows as one expects it to -  Dororo teases him for becoming an even bigger softie, and they set off back to the village to grab some farm tools who Hyakki the place, as the camera pans up until the brilliant blue sky fills the frame. That chapter of their lives ends the same way it began, with Hyakkimaru and Dororo - the latter chatting up a storm while the former quietly appreciates - side by side, wandering where they must. 

Then the camera pans back down, and where before there was bare paddy, the field is now golden and thriving (same as it was in the show's ending). After a half decade timeskip, Dororo is 15-16 to Hyakki’s 21-22, and the rest of the episode follows them dealing with a demon terrorizing their village, who turns out to be Daigo’s butthurt evil spirit. I don’t have a specific plot, but here are concepts that I’d love to see explored.

First, Grown up badass Dororo running her town, being like her own Alexander Hamilton, except not only does this Alexander Hamilton know finances, how to run a sovereign state, how to outsmart any opponent, rouse even the most downtrodden souls to action with just a few words, she also kicks major butt from training with her big bro. Shoutout to that one post that inspired the idea that her dad's Big Boy genes kicked in during puberty so she’s actually like... as tall as Hyakki. Maybe even an inch taller. She says to anyone who asks that her bro can 'die mad about it’ but they both know that he’s just happy she grew up big and strong. 

She totally runs the town and everyone adores/massively respects her; her city takes in the refugees, the poor, the women and children, the diseased, etc, because, in her words, screw samurai and screw their wars. They absorbed Daigo’a old land after offering food, shelter, and jobs to the survivors, thus their town became a pretty respectably sized settlement.

Now, the key to all this - since they don't want to rely on samurai for their power - is the money, right? So Dororo’s power is her knowledge of the treasures secret location (and all the other badass things about her, but I digress). Imagine at some point a small gang of newer villaghers got the bright idea to try and stalk her during one of her mysterious night trips out (she calls them a way to satisfy her wanderlust, but they’re a cover for her sailing to the treasure's location to grab some cash), and they only get as far as spying her enter the docks before their plan goes to heck when they get accosted by Dororo's more loyal villagers who saw them sneaking. ‘Oh sh*t,’ they’re thinking, Dororo sauntering over to them, ‘Oh sh*t, shes got a big sword, oh man oh sh*t this is the end for me - '

But Dororo’s been there before, at the end of her rope and desperate for any edge to survive, she understands how these guys think, and if there’s one thing she’s stubborn to death about it’s that she does NOT run her town like the samurai. Instead, she talks them out of their misdoing and helps them find an honest living, Tales of Ba Sing Se Uncle Iroh style, (except with more volume and verbal threats).

Another concept with Dororo is when Dororo dresses to look like a guy when he and Hyakki take a couple horses and venture into a nearby city (for whatever plot reason), similar to how he did when he was a lot younger.

It’s not fully a secret, but only the older residents of her city know about Dororo’s 'crossdressing' habit, and are accepting of it.

Dororo mentions that while he’s in no way ashamed of presenting female, it often feels more freeing to present male, especially when they're out adventuring - less questions and stares from strangers, etc. Dororo also just likes presenting as male! This way, he identifies with both genders at different times. (It goes without saying Hyakki does his best to use the right pronouns, he never had a strict concept of gender - re: Jukai is the best mom, so it never struck him as odd.)

As for the actual villain of the episode, when she first hears of the Jerk Dad Demon attacking the farms on the outskirts of the village, she only thinks ‘it's just another demon, time to gather the crew and kill this thing-’

It doesn’t go so easily, as the demon’s exceptional strength proves to draw out the confrontation, and it even ends up escaping the first time.

The first to figure it out was Hyakki - he’s most familiar with Daigo’s wrath and the foul creature reeks of the old man. However, everything happened so fast and he sort of… neglected to inform Dororo. When she does find out, they have a short confrontation about it in classic Bickering Siblings Style. It’s understandable that she’s slightly miffed the demonic incarnation of his own awful dad, yes that one, is who they’re fighting and he didn’t bother letting her know.

Hyakki, who, even after a decade of having his voice back, isn't that great at communication/vocalizing his more complex thoughts and working through conflicts with words and thus often comes off as awkward or silently stoic: 'You were busy... and I thought you figured by yourself already?’

Things escalate when the other villagers overhear, and they almost start a riot; angry shouts accusing him of being the reason the demon attacks their settlement from the all the tired men and women, haggard from fending off attacks of not only the demon but also rival bandits and clans who want to take advantage of the city’s time of hardship. Of course, Dororo gets everyone back in lineright before the crowd got to deciding to sacrifice Hyakkimaru, reminding them to focus on the real enemy instead of turning on eachother - but the situation was incredibly bleak. With everyone on edge partially, it was easy to use Hyakki as a scapegoat due to his pacifist tendencies and his stoic nature coming across as almost cowardice.

He taught Dororo how to fight and that's pretty much all the fighting he's done since he came back to plant Mio’s rice, he’s reluctant to pick up the blade again. But the moment a demon shows up he runs off on his own, risking life and limb to confront it head on. Combined with his character’s less than stellar communication skills, it frustrates Dororo in the 'he leaves for a year and doesnt even text me when he's going’ kinda way’ - she's frustrated when he continually refuses to understand that they're family, and at the end of they day theyre kind of all the other has left. So he needs to get it together better and tell her when he’s about to go off and do reckless nonsense. His behavior also presents an interesting dichotomy as Hyakki also struggles with trying to be emotionally detached (lose worldly desires, etc.) and pacifist in the face of attacks from both demon and humans, so he needs to reconcile fighting with the others against attacking clans and risking a redescent into the demon like madness of his teenage years or standing by non violent means of supporting his comrades while facing expectations that he should do more. He wants to atone for his past sins badly and help those who are still living best he can - but how? 

(And also make friends other than literally just Dororo.)

Dororo's arc is about her struggles to do the right thing as a leader - it is a lot, to run a whole city. Recent events have caused more deaths amidst her city than ever before, and moral questions about what to do with captured enemy survivors feed doubt into her mind if one day she’ll turn out as bad as the samurai, and how to continue on after having led people in battles that resulted in their deaths.

P.s. I also entertained the idea of Hyakki’s journey to find himself taking much longer, and so the first time Dororo sees him again ever since he got his eyes back is when she's 20, there's rain pouring from the dark sky as her men are carrying lamps around, accounting for the dead and defeated in a latest skirmish with a small rival band that was trying to access her city the non-peaceful way.

At first her men bring her hyakkimaru, thinking he was with the enemy (he happened to be in the wrong place, wrong time. He simply heard of a group heading to a big place that sounded an awful lot like somewhere he would find Dororo - and followed them).

And from the business end of her sword he's on his knees looking up when she goes 'nah. I know him. This bastard's got hell to answer for, but he's not our enemy.’

Events are more or less the same from there, but filled with way more tension and drama here since Hyakki basically dropped off the face of the earth for 10 ish years and Do’s mad about that because, again, he didn't even say 'bye'. So much has changed, but what hasn't changed is Dororo’s anikki's inability to grasp that if one day he went off without telling her and then died, she would have literally no idea where/when/how that was, she would never know if he was alive or dead, and the idea of living in that limbo would terrify anyone. The story being about them learning to come together again, only at the end do they plant Mio’s rice field together.

I ended up trying to flesh the first idea out more because Do & Hyakki’s relationship is all about the things that don't need to be said; that these two will always be there for the other without needing to be asked. The backbone of their relationship was built up as one that didn’t need explicit affirmation because it was already so ingrained to their characters it would be a disservice to them and a waste of time to contrive an entire plot trying to create unnecessary drama between them.

But then again... drama = satisfying character growth, so perhaps it could go either way! Let me know what you think! 

Thank you for reading all this way :) I also posted second part to this of other thoughts I had while pondering why I felt the need to write a standalone epilogue.

Bonus: these gems I had in the rough draft that unfortunately had to get cut:

“But it’s harder to kill bc jerk dad demon is a jerk”

“Dororo's like 'u mean to tell me ur punk bitch biological male progenitor's demonized soul is attacking our fields??? “

“they take down the big bad dad dude daigo”

“Dororo: - pshffyeahh, ur pissy pissfaced pissbaby dad”

[hamliet]

Mao Dao Zu Shi’s Monster

Call it war, call it threat You can bet they all will follow For in times like this, they'll do just as I say

We don’t like what we don’t understand; in fact it scares us...

“Mob Song,” Beauty and the Beast

I finally finished watching Mao Dao Zu Shi, and I read as much as is translated right now and know the gist of what happens but someone please lend me those last three chapters sob sob sob. This meta will have spoilers from the novel, apologies. I thought about making two versions but that seemed a bit too much, and the entire story is so perfectly structured thematically that I just had to talk about all of it. As a warning, this meta will discuss the canon-depicted homophobia a bit. And sorry but I ramble a bit here :(

In my review of the anime, I said this:

For a series that starts off with our heroes fighting ghouls and quickly includes battles with zombies, tortoise dinosaurs, etc., it soon becomes apparent that the real monsters the characters are fighting aren’t the dead nor are they the unknown like the tortoise. They’re the characters themselves. Mao Dao Zu Shi offers a pretty resounding rebuke of society and its tendency to drive people to monstrous deeds, and does this in a number of fascinating ways. The characters’ flaws are almost always two-sided coins in that their flaws are also their strengths, but with the right (or really, wrong) circumstances, they can destroy the best parts of them and turn them into monsters. 

And hooray, these ideas continue to be explored in the novel, and as the story approaches its climax, it becomes pretty blunt as well. Jin Ling’s arc kind of encapsulates all of these ideas, as in the end he’s left realizing he cannot hate any of the people he spent years blaming for his parents’ deaths, and realizes that that doesn’t mean it’s his fault. The series doesn’t point to him and say “look how wrong you were!” but rather “it’s hard, isn’t it?” Because Jin Ling’s hatred was not created in a vacuum; instead, it stems from the messages society gives him: its tendency to label people as villains, its messages of toxic masculinity and homophobia, all of which are constrained in an overall lack of empathy.

Jin Ling’s realization includes the overall basic themes that shit happens in life that you don’t deserve, because the world is messed up, and people who do things that hurt you have also had things done to them that they didn’t deserve, and had no choice in. It picks apart the circumstances--be they birth, parents, culture, pressure, trauma--that go into driving people to make the choices that they make, whether they justify these choices to themselves or whether they don’t even try. And by doing so, as a story, Mao Dao Zu Shi encourages empathy as a way to move forward, to redeem yourself, to forgive or to at the very least take a step. I mean, empathy is literally the name of a technique that saves them all in Yi City.

Wei WuXian, our villainous main character in need of redemption, has his tragic fall depicted in the first season of the anime. As a child Wei WuXian grew up on the streets, and even after being taken in by Jiang FengMian and his family (thanks to Jiang FengMian being, it is implied, in love with Wei WuXian’s mother), he simply doesn’t fit into society after having been left to tumble through the streets like trash for a year. He’s constantly thinking outside the box, and he channels his pain into extreme cheeriness, but it’s all a mask. He doesn’t behave, doesn’t listen to rules, speaks out when he should keep his mouth shut. Sometimes this is good, because the rules are arbitrary; sometimes, it’s really bad, because the rules are designed to protect.

This nuanced dichotomy is explored really well in his relationship with Lan WangJi, in that the 3000 rules of the Cloud Recesses are pretty restrictive, and Lan WangJi needed to break out of his legalistic life. However, when he turns to the dark arts and takes revenge on Wen Chao (the Wens represent the privileged in society--at first, that is), Lan WangJi is horrified by the very traits of freedom and not caring about society’s rules that helped him fall in love with him, because he can see that Wei WuXian is walking a very dangerous path (and a cruel one in that particular moment as well). His invitation to come back to the Cloud Recesses with him was meant to help Wei WuXian, but why would he trust society in that moment?

Society told the Wens it was fine to destroy his entire clan and family, hurt his brother, and so he went outside of it to find revenge and to stop the Wens. He’s told that because he broke the rules and insulted the Wens, he brought about the destruction of his family (hence, it’s his problem to fix). He’d only come to expect punishment and condemnation from the Lan clan, and Lan WangJi’s inability to be honest about his feelings no doubt led to his mistrust, as he bluntly tells Lan WangJi he won’t let him punish him anymore.

Lan Wangji, in contrast to Wei WuXian, Wen Chao, and Jiang Cheng, has to repress himself. His sect encourages stoicism and while that leads him to good choices in some ways, his inability to express his feelings to Wei WuXian before it’s too late leads to disaster. Wei WuXian truly didn’t believe he cared at all for him, because Lan WangJi had to keep it to himself. But when Wei WuXian returns, he goes against society for his sake. As Wei WuXian notes:

But what he hadn’t expected was that when everyone feared him and flattered him, Lan WangJi scolded him right in his face; when everyone spurned him and loathed him, Lan WangJi stood by his side.

The beautiful thing about their love in addition to all the ways they care about each other and encourage each other to grow is that it also works perfectly thematically: it contradicts societal expectations by being between two men, and no matter their status in society, it encourages/challenges WangJi to stand against it, instead of going along with his society like he has in every other aspect of his life. His brother, after all, tells Wei WuXian that WangJi’s “only mistake was you.”

Society then fears and flatters Wei WuXian, until he loses control, and then they despise him, because society always needs a villain. What they hate isn’t so much what Wei WuXian did, but the idea of him. They hate him and attribute things he never did to his name (though he did quite a lot), simply because society is like that, without stopping to consider the nuance or hypocrisy of what they need.

And Lan WangJi is continually challenged to go against society for the person he loves. The scenes at the Demon Cave exemplify this, where a mob of people show up demanding Wei WuXian’s blood even though he just saved all of their children, and Lan WangJi refuses to back down, and in the end Wei WuXian winds up saving all of their lives. But society doesn’t think, doesn’t empathize, doesn’t consider what the prices actually are. They go along with a crowd to feel like they belong, a mob mentality, really (which is a psychological phenomenon):

Society’s desire for a villain and lack of critical thinking is exemplified in the Wens. The Wens are respected among the sects at first, feared even. Wen Chao in particular exemplifies toxic masculinity as well. He abuses his powers, sexually with harassing MianMian, and in other ways as well, in that he uses the lives of other sects’ cultivators as shields, as he’s called out for, when they go into the turtle’s cave. The cave is rather a metaphor for the entire story: the Wens drag everyone into the cave under the illusion of using them as victims/shields to protect their power, but the Wens lose their power when JiaoJiao (a poor mistress, showing how society is arbitrary and can’t stick to its own rules because people are more than robots) demands they sacrifice MianMian (MianMian)) to lure out an ancient monster (lies in society). Lan WangJi stands up to them to protect her, Wei WuXian saves her from being scarred, and then it’s Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian who work together to kill the monster (their love as the thematic core of dismantling society).

But after Wen Chao’s story doesn’t end there. After he exacts his revenge on Wei WuXian, Wei WuXian destroys him in a cruel way leading to society thinking it’s okay to punish all Wens. Lan Wangji expresses discomfort with the way in which Wen Chao is tortured, but Jiang Cheng insists he deserves it. However, when all Wens are pretty much considered pariahs, Wei WuXian, who has not let go of all his empathy despite the dark path he’s walking, stands up to Jiang Cheng for their sake. He understands that people like Wen Ning and Wen Qing are not bound by their blood, and that they are good people. But society doesn’t care. Their names are enough.

The thing about Jiang Cheng is that as much as he professes to despise Wei WuXian... he’s not any different. He claims to be unable to forgive Wei WuXian for the deaths of his parents (not Wei WuXian’s fault) and the death of their sister (okay that one’s his fault), but doesn’t really pay attention to the feelings of those around him, resulting in him becoming more or less a tool for society. His sister sacrificed herself, pushing Wei WuXian out of the way, for the very person he hates, and despite the supposed nature of his grudge, he isn’t very nice to her only child, his nephew Jin Ling. The boy actually runs away from him several times--essentially, Jiang Cheng acts similarly to the father whose issues are at the root of Jiang Cheng’s issues: like he just doesn’t like him, when really, Jiang Cheng loves Jin Ling and he loves Wei WuXian.

Because what’s at the root of Jiang Cheng’s issues is that he has a massive inferiority complex. He embodies toxic masculinity, believing he has to do everything himself, refusing to accept help, refusing to accept responsibility because he doesn’t want to be weak, all because he wants to prove himself to a long-dead father. He wants to prove himself to society, and so goes to extreme lengths to exterminate any trace of Wei WuXian, capturing and torturing the ones he believes might house Wei WuXian’s soul. It’s all about appearances of strength and righteousness for Jiang Cheng, and the focus on this transforms him into someone uncomfortably similar to Wen Chao in some ways, someone who uses the power given to him as the heir of his sect to hurt others rather than to protect, even if it’s in the name of protecting.

The whole reason Jiang Cheng has this inferiority complex comes down to the societal aspects of toxic masculinity, sexism, and the like as well. There’s a contrast between the grace and respect society and the initial framing of the story offers Jiang FengMian, in contrast to his wife. He’s not a good father or husband, unable to pretend he didn’t love Wei WuXian’s mother instead, and while he’s kind to Wei WuXian, he doesn’t show his son the same affection. And his neglect breeds resentment both in Yi ZiYuan, his wife, and in Jiang Cheng, which spills over onto Wei WuXian. Yi ZiYuan’s lot in life is pretty sad, though she has no right to take it out on Wei WuXian (which she does), but as the story develops, we start to see that this idea is wrong, and the story builds empathy for Yi ZiYuan to the point where she easily became a favorite character of mine.

Yi ZiYuan’s cruelty was a result of jealousy and inexcusable, but when push comes to shove, she does love Wei WuXuan, and tries to save his life the only way society allows her to: by being cruel. When JiaoJiao demands punishment for the cave incident, Yi ZiYuan whips Wei WuXian to the point where Jiang Cheng is screaming in horror, but we soon realizes she only did it to get JiaoJiao to back off. But society doesn’t back down: JiaoJiao isn’t satisfied, and JiaoJiao demands Wei WuXian’s right hand. Yi ZiYuan refuses, sacrificing her life and the lives of her entire clan for Jiang Cheng, Jiang YanLi, and Wei WuXian.

The entire structure of the story is about undoing a tragedy, a tragedy the world basically brought on them, but you can’t erase what happened so much as you can do your best to set things right. This stems from MZDS’s basic premise that society creates monsters and tragedies, but you do not have to be one yourself if you empathize. And part of the ways in which the characters step outside of the tragic set up is through going against society: Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji acknowledge their love, Wen Ning tells Jiang Cheng the truth about his golden core, etc.

It’s fitting that the story begins with Mo XuanYu’s suicide. He is a bastard child, scorned by society for being gay and for hitting on a respected cultivator. However, as we find out, the respected cultivator was actually no more respectable--Jin GuangYao was Mo XuanYu’s own brother, and had incestuously married his own sister after getting her pregnant before the wedding, then murdered their son. Society spat on Mo XuanYu for his crimes, offering a poor bastard, the son of a whore and a respected man with nowhere to go, drove him to suicide, and it worshipped his brother without realizing the extent of his crimes.  It’s arbitrary and not interested in truth, but in scapegoats. But in expressing his pain through a way that ends his life, his story is told, and the truth comes out, and some members of society get a little less homophobic.

It’s also fitting that it ends with the courage of a prostitute whose face has been horrifically scarred. Sisi’s story sparks the motion that will tumble down all the lies in the sect, and even clear Wei WuXian’s name.

The final battle occurs in a temple, a temple built over the ashes of a brothel where Jin GuangYao grew up. The message isn’t subtle: society created him as an outcast, and him fitting in was simply fake and he knew it, but he felt like he had no options. And it took another outcast, someone with no power at all, to help topple him. And even when he dies, the reader can’t help but see how he became what he was, and it’s difficult to hate him.

The kids--Jin Ling, despite his professed homophobia at the beginning, Lin Sizhui, and Lin Jingyi, and the other more minor characters--are much more supportive of Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian’s relationship, noted to express excited shock over Lan WangJi giving Wei WuXian his hair ribbon (as a symbol of love), give them their privacy on the boat, etc. Jin Ling, too, moves from professed discuss over Mo XuanYu’s affection for men along with his hatred of Wen Ning and Wei WuXian, to respect and admiration for Wei WuXian, care for Wen Ning after Wen Ning saves his life, and respect and even support of Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian’s relationship. (You could say an anti became a shipper :P) Jin Ling’s growing understanding of empathy enables him to open up to his peers, and to open up his mind to a progressing world. 

At the beginning, his inability to fit in leads to his own misery; as he develops, he begins to form true connections, not cheap societal connections, and begins to develop. This combined with a revelation that Jiang Cheng does care more than he lets on and Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian professing their love in a temple while being held hostage with his older brother watching via shouting the line “I really wanted to sleep with you!” which is the most socially inappropriate and awesome love confession ever and then running off to get married. And Jin Ling shows us his development by crying, something repeatedly noted as shameful for an adult man (which tends to be the case IRL too), and crying freely even though he’s scolded for it, because it’s the only way he can express what he feels and he’s going to express it.

Snapshotted translations taken from Exiled Rebels Scans; further translations from @chiaki_homura on instagram!

[ghostie-hoe]

PLL THE PERFECTIONISTS 1x01 RECAP & THEORIES

So the episode opens with Sofia Carson’s monologue introducing the theme of the show - perfectionism and how the desperation for perfection has lead someone to snap under pressure and kill.

The monologue is talking about prestigious students at the University, so we can be lead to believe that the person who killed Nolan is amongst them - a student. I’d say, let’s keep an open mind and not rule out Dylan, Caitlin and Ava just yet.

In the next scene, Alison is in a Uber on her way to Beacon Heights, claiming that she doesn’t know anyone in town. We then see Alison entering her new home - there’s a sound and suddenly she’s a character in a horror film calling out “Hello?” And of course she checks the basement. It’s easy to fall back into old fears after two years of a safe, AD-free life. Mona then appears out of nowhere holding a knife and box of pie. Classic Mona. Creepy. Alison doesn’t seem to surprised to see Mona, they make small talk. Alison asks Mona “What are you doing here?” and She explains lightly that Mary and Alex escaped her dungeon (without confirming those words) and then moves onto say that she does GAME DESIGN for Hotchkiss. GAME DESIGN.

Let’s just throw back to the original show where Mona was addicted to the game - she became a master at the game and even admired Alex’s board game. In other words she was unhealthily fascinated by it. Why is nobody bringing up Mona doing Game design when we know now that she may have been communicating with someone through mirrors and is in the house where this state of the art security system is located? Link? Coincidence? There are no coincidences in Rosewood therefore no coincidences in Oregon. Mona talking to Alison about fresh starts and trust and Alison expresses wanting to leave the old mean girl behind her and help the kids and Mona replies “You will. I know it.” Mona already knows something. She brought Alison here for a reason knowing that she’d be able to help. “Allison’s determined as she ever was, don’t you think?” I’m not gonna be surprised if Mona is talking to her other personality (more on that later).

Alison and Mona walking to campus together and Alison brings up Taylor Hotchkiss to which Mona says “lovely girl” and Alison gets a little suspicious about the timeline of Mona being in Beacon Heights after Taylor committed suicide and not during. Mona always has an answer for everything “I read up on her” she claimed. From this, I believe that Mona knows Taylor is alive. Mona just knows everything.

Alison begins her first day at Beacon Heights by signing her name on a digital board and this full scene has How to get away with murder vibes. We first meet the mains in this scene. Alison launches into conversation about one of her favourite books by Agatha Christie ‘And then there were none’

Ten strangers, apparently with little in common, are lured to an island mansion off the coast of Devon by the mysterious U.N.Owen. Over dinner, a record begins to play, and the voice of an unseen host accuses each person of hiding a guilty secret. That evening, former reckless driver Tony Marston is found murdered by a deadly dose of cyanide.

The tension escalates as the survivors realise the killer is not only among them but is preparing to strike again… and again...

Marlene always chooses literature that has significance to the story - to her characters. So, let’s say our island mansion is Beacon Heights, who has been lured to Beacon Heights? Alison. As far we can tell as we’re only one episode into the story, nobody has been accused of having guilty secrets - however, Nolan was blackmailing Caitlin. Our Tony Marston is Nolan Hotchkiss, the first and one of many people to be murdered and the killer is amongst them, meaning the killer must be one of the main characters we were introduced to, Dylan, Caitlin , Ava, Dylan’s boyfriend, Caitlin’s secret boyfriend or someone we haven’t yet been introduced to in Alison’s class. At this point, Taylor could’ve murdered her own brother.

Dylan is called on to talk about a theme in the book and he chooses isolation. “The author deliberately picks this remote location so the characters can escape themselves. It’s part of their punishment.” Let’s take note of the significance of the mains answers. Dylan talking about isolation may have significance to his role in the story or his own secrets. Is Dylan out? Does he feel isolated?

We then have Ava who claims that Dylan is always right to avoid answering the answer because she didn’t have an answer. She then goes onto say “Well it’s about dichotomy of something and nothing.” A reflection of how Ava feels about herself knowing that she’s a real person but nothing connotes her self esteem? Or even the whole Nolan - Ava - Caitlin - situation. She then admits that she didn’t read the book because she was too busy focusing on growing her YouTube channel, her outlet for paying her tuition.

And then we have Caitlin. “The author wasn’t subtle. She named a character justice. It comes down to, well, is it okay to murder a murderer?” Caitlin isn’t a subtle person as we can see from the later scenes where she speaks of being inspired by her fantasy to get rid of someone to Alison and then describing how the core 3 could murder Nolan, and it happened in the exact way she said. Caitlin goes on to to say that she would hurt someone that hurt someone she loves. Nolan then says “Don’t worry babe, nobody would mess with me.” Now, Caitlin turns to look at Nolan before he reassures her that nobody would hurt him. We find out later in the episode that Nolan is blackmailing Caitlin with information about an affair between one of her mothers and another person. Little hint that Caitlin wouldn’t hesitate to hurt Nolan for destroying her family - and their perfectionism dynamics?

And finally, Nolan. “Paybacks a bitch. Characters got what they deserved. They did terrible things, they got terrible things done to them. Thought you’d appreciate that world view, Miss Dilaurentis.”

So first of all, Nolan obviously has information on Alison’s history because ‘missing dead girl turns up alive’ would make serious headlines but it seems a little deeper than that. I’d say his insider is Mona. It’s possible that this has significance to the other girls for partaking in bullying ‘Loser Mona’ the Jenna Thing etc. Possibly hinting at Alison coming back and being tormented by Alex and “Elliot”, the insemination. And we all know that seeing a dead body in PLL doesn’t always mean that character is always dead, this could be Nolan’s plan. Fake his death, Make it look extremely convincing ie. a body. One of my followers suggested that Nolan could’ve had a Nolan mask made (not shocking in the PLL universe) and this statement is him talking about his plan to kill people who deserve it in his mind because “people did terrible things and had terrible things done to them.” After saying that the camera pans to Alison, Dylan and Ava. Interesting. His victims maybe?

After the class ends, Alison pulls Nolan to the side and asks Why he thinks she knows about payback and he answers with “My mother is gonna tell you that you’re here because you remind her of my sister. It’s more than that.” Weird answer to bring the Taylor and Alison comparison into it. Rather, Nolan knows that Taylor is alive, faked her death. An early hint that Taylor isn’t dead. You can’t recruit someone because they’re blonde and remind you of your blonde daughter, there’s more to Taylor in Claire’s eyes that reminds her of Taylor. Was Taylor a mean girl?

The group are walking out of the main building whilst Nolan is trying to confirm Caitlin’s attendance at Claire’s dinner party and Caitlin claims that she has plans to which Nolan replies with “Can’t imagine what would be more important than you showing up for me” Showing up for me? That’s not something you normally say to your girlfriend (But Caitlin isn’t Nolan’s girlfriend, she’s being blackmailed into it so that he can date Ava without his mother knowing) Then Nolan talks about the papers that Dylan has to write for Nolan and Ava because he’s the smartest. Nolan has something on him for him to say “I’ll do yours but I can’t do Ava’s” then talks about another academic interest of his. So, Ava is our Hanna equivalent, possibly secretly very smart, interested in her social media presence and was doing fashion design during the monologue. Dylan is our Spencer, academically focussed. Ava and Nolan leave and Caitlin expresses to Dylan how she thought things would be different this year and Dylan asks “Because of Taylor? He didn’t even cry at her funeral” Nolan didn’t cry because he knew that his sister wasn’t dead. She’s alive. That’s why he didn’t cry. Also, it’s socially acceptable not to be crying at a funeral because everyone grieves differently. Caitlin then goes on to ask if she can help him with anything that Nolan has on him and Dylan claims that they’re all his fake friends and they hang out with him to make it look like he has “the perfect posse” Caitlin seems to want to make a real friendship out of the fake friendship, with Dylan anyways. We then get the scene of Dylan walking away, a pan to the camera ontop of the building and a birds eye view shot of Caitlin on her own and people walking in different directions around her. I LOVE THE WAY THIS IS FILMED. Camera cuts to Mona walking through campus and Alison sneaking up on her and startling her.

Alison mentions Nolan’s name and then about how her and Alison were talking all “Summer camp” about fresh starts and Mona doesn’t look surprised but asks “What did Nolan say” instead of giving her a straight forward answer. Mona claims that she didn’t tell anyone information about Alison and that Nolan doesn’t belong because he’s extremely smart. Nolan is now the Mona equivalent. She then says that by her calculations, Nolan could be dangerous.

Alison grading plagiarised papers against the plagiarism policy, at this point we need Spencer Hastings. The song in the background playing about wanting to be out of the familiar, can you help me please? I want to know. Significant? Why is the word ‘meticulous’ being highlighted for us to see. We could see Alison grading papers against that polity and talking to her students about it and we’d understand what’s happened but instead we are shown the scene of highlighting the word ‘meticulous’.. the shot of Alison’s glasses on the page gave me the PLL The Great Gatsby poster vibes (The one with the glasses and the eyes, saying ‘someone’s watching you’ )

Nolan has something on Dylan, his boyfriend questions him on writing papers for Ava and Nolan and he changes the subject to ‘I promised myself I wouldn’t get serious about anyone when I came to college, but the day I met you that changed.”

So then we have Caitlin, naked, laying on her bed doing her homework and her boyfriend comes over to her and they start making out. He strangely looks like Toby from his side profile and he has a British accent. Again, the partners asking why they associate with Nolan and we are given an answer. Nolan appears and starts talking about how even though Caitlin is seeing someone, to the outside world she and Nolan are still a happy couple. He then proceeds to blackmail her with a photo of one of her mothers having an affair with a man and Nolan says that he doesn’t want to have to ruin her political career. “Guess two moms don’t always make a right.” Wow. Emison? I love Emison. Caitlin feels comfortable enough to confide in her boyfriend about Nolan’s blackmailing and suggests that he talk to Nolan and find away to keep Caitlin’s family out of it and not ruin her political career. If this guy loves Caitlin, could he be the one for this very reason to murder Nolan?

Ava working hard on her YouTube channel. Nolan suggests that she takes the easy route and hire someone else to do the hard work. When you come from privilege, this is a common thing to say. He seems to downplay Ava’s ability, getting Dylan to write her paper and now saying that she should get someone else to do the hard work. Ava is a strong character, she stands up for herself and claims that she wants to take care of her own branding. She wants to reclaim her surname Jalali, and have people think of her not her father. Nolan constantly talks about his perfect family image, or at least how it looks to outsiders and claims that Ava will be somebody just by being herself.

We finally met Claire Hotchkiss, as Thebestplltheories pointed out the way she’s filmed to be looking down at Nolan, promoting her power. Claire opens with how she saw Ava and that she doesn’t want him involved with the Jalali family. He’s on the right track with Caitlin. Claire wanted Nolan to lead an extra practice and Nolan objects claiming that he wants time to himself. A healthy thing but his mother says that he can handle it because he always does.

Claire takes a phone call. “I want active surveillance of BH5.” “That’s your son.” BH5? Is Nolan under some kind of brand name or is BH5 the name for the group Ava, Caitlin, Dylan, Nolan And...? Why would Claire want to watch her son? That’s a little strange. I have a feeling that it has nothing to do with Ava.

We then have Alison telling Ava that this “extremely thoughtful and layered “ essay wasn’t written about Ava, and asks if Nolan or Dylan wrote it. The conversation then turns to Ava’s absent father and mother. Ava tells Alison that “My dad had to run, my mum chose to bail.” Which we are then taken to a flashback of an FBI agent interrogating Ava about her parents leaving and Ava claiming that they left her with everything - They did leave money though. Ava then tells Alison that if she wants to help, she should leave her and her friends alone and let it go. And again, Mona is watching. Mona is always watching. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mona has some device that allowed her to hear that conversation.

The party scene. Alison is standing by the window looking down at the party below - Caitlin and Nolan look heated with Caitlin attempting to storm off and Nolan grabbing her arm to pull her back. The camera then pans to Claire joining Alison by the window, “it’s quite the view isn’t it. When my daughter was little she loved to sit up here and watch our parties.” Then Claire starts talking about why she was impressed by Alison and wanted to recruit her. Her academic record? - Wait, girl goes missing and misses most of high school, to my knowledge doesn’t go to college.. pretty impressive academic record. Her essay, and her mean girl to mentor journey. So, Claire sees a comparison between Taylor and Alison and mentions, mean girl to mentor journey. This says to me that Taylor was probably a mean girl. Alison undermining her teen years as nothing to the pressure that the BHU students are under? Umm Alison you literally bullied many students; one of which had a personal vendetta against you and drove you to fake your death for years whilst she proceeded to torture the other girls and then when they thought that was over, your sister took over and built a real life dollhouse where she tortured your friends whilst you were behind bars. Not to mention that this again persisted with your ex husband who was under a fake identity and inseminated you with your fiancé?? Wife??? eggs. Yes, these people so have it harder than you and the other girls. So, then Claire proceeds to talk about just how similar Taylor is to Alison and how the death of her daughter motivated her to keep her students safe. I.e the security system, but suicide usually indicates a mental health problem and I’ve not yet seen any posters up about mental health or even talk of mental so far.. Mona and Claire really keep reassuring that Alison is safe at BHU.

The whole Dylan - Nolan situation. Dylan sees Andrew and Nolan socialising and asks Nolan why he’s talking to Andrew to which Nolan says that he hasn’t told him anything and that Dylan is hot when he’s angry. Dylan then says that he doesn’t want to see him angry. Question raised that I answered one of my followers last night, Am I under the impression that Nolan is biesexual? Honestly, I believe that Nolan is a manipulator, a toxic one who stops at nothing to get what he wants. He could very well be a closet bisexual (I’m a bisexual myself) but I think that he’s using Dylan’s sexuality against him if anything. Claire wanting Caitlin and Nolan to be next to each other in the perfectionism photo. Ava then subtly reaches for Nolan’s hand which he pulls away as his mother makes eye contact with Ava. She knows.

Alison joins Caitlin on the (bridge?) and compliments her on her provocative insight paper and says that it encouraged to take a look into her file. Alison brings up her opposition to capital punishment and that Caitlin almost made her believe that murder could be justified. Then shady Caitlin jokes that her paper was a little too inspired by her fantasy to get rid of someone - Nolan. Who ends up murdered at the end of the episode. We know by now that Alison DiLaurentis doesn’t take lies and bullshit. She saw right through Caitlin and Nolan’s happy couple image and offers her help. Caitlin then tells her that her asking questions will complicate things. Alison tells her that she knows about manipulation and compares her past self to Nolan. Caitlin tells Alison that Nolan will do whatever it takes to ensure that his mother knows she has the perfect son.

Mona leaves a couple that she’s touring to watch Nolan trek into the woods whilst she sips her wine. We see Nolan check for a BHU connection? There isn’t one and he proceeds to take a phone call. This means that there’s a system on the smartphones, possibly just Nolan’s that notifies someone - Miss Hotchkiss? Whoever Mona is working for? about what he’s doing on his phone - recording calls and messages. There’s no connection in the woods. He’s talking to Taylor, and we can’t hear her side of the conversation but this is how imagine it

Nolan: I need to see you

Taylor: Nolan, we’ve talked about this. It’s too dangerous. Mum’s close to knowing

Nolan: Yesh I was afraid of that. She’s ordered surveillance on me and she’ll be watching Ava too

Taylor: Break up with your girlfriend I’m bored.. (Kidding)

Taylor: She never gives it a break, this is exactly I did what I did.. You need to leave Ava. You need to protect her from our mother

Nolan: We need to meet

After this, Alison is talking to Dylan about his talent with words and Dylan says that that’s what it takes to be here. Alison then proceeds to bring up Nolan, how she knows about him and Ava. Asking why he’s manipulating Dylan into doing their papers. We get a flashback of Dylan and Nolan talking about how Nolan took a subject he wasn’t interested in to make conversation with his mother at family dinners. He constantly strives to impress her. Dylan gets envious and brings up how his family are far away therefore he doesn’t share that luxury and Nolan brings up Andrew. And then Nolan manipulates Dylan into cheating on Andrew. Alison knows that game “I know this is important to you, so you can tell me that you wrote those papers or goodbye to music hunny.” Wasnt quite like that but they share a moment when Dylan explains that he came from a small town and he wasn’t accepted for being “different” AKA gay and that music was his escape. It gives him a purpose.

Ava deserves so much better. We know that scene was staged but, I still feel for her because he died with her not knowing that he was protecting her.

Alison researching the Hotchkiss family. That clever and beautifully shot scene where we see her reflection in the laptop screen next to Taylor. This is like all the mirror scenes on PLL such as when the girls search Mona’s room for clues and we see half of Spencer’s face through the crack of the mirror - representing Alex. I genuinely hope there’s no more secret siblings.

Who followed Nolan to Taylor’s hideout? As Nolan enters the gateway, a white car parks up in the drive. Who is in that car?

Taylor is alive. That much was obvious. Nolan and Taylor are talking about how Nolan broke up with her to protect her. Taylor has a system where she monitors the BHU security system and Taylor claims that it can be proved that they’re using Beacon Guard to spy on a select few students. Nolan claims to know someone that they can trust - Alison ? Mona? .

Ava calls a meeting between herself, Dylan and Caitlin about putting a stop to Nolan’s manipulation. Going to Alison’s faculty - with Alison to take him down. Then comes the conversion of Killing Nolan

Caitlin: “I have fantasised about him drying in lots of different ways.”

Dylan: “Agatha Christie wasn’t wrong you guys. Murder can be justified.”

Ava: “Yeah But that’s just fantasy.”

Dylan: Drowning in that pool of his

Ava: “Heart arrack whilst he’s hooking up with some dumb ass bitch.”

Caitlin: “That’s inspired.”

Ava: Yuh, by recent events.”

Caitlin: “We push him off the roof. And it gives him a second or two to think about dying before he’s empaled on the spikes at the bottom.” Then there’s a rustle. Someone heard that conversation.

Mona in her car saying to the mirror. Who is she talking to by the way? “I think I’m doing a really good job, don’t you?” And then Alison fully parallels Hanna by smacking her car bonnet. “WHY AM I REALLY HERE?” Damn Ali D chill out. And then Alison is in Mona’s car talking about how it’s not just Nolan and his mother and Taylor could be her doppelgänger? You aren’t Elena sweetie. The physical similarities? Selected before Mona knew what she looked like. That’s not true though is it Mona? Alison saying what we’re all thinking and a little hint from Marlene here “Did you learn nothing from Rosewood, there are no coincidences.” Mona launches into this story of how Taylor cracked under the pressure and that’s why Alison is here, to help people like her and that’s all we get from that conversation

Another birds eye view. Somebody Is watching the three amigos walk together. “Maybe if there wasn’t a Nolan we’d be friends.” Taking a moment to refer back to the Agatha Christie novel “One amongst them is the killer.” All three want to him to disappear. The song as they all leave and turn back “Always said I was a good kid.” “Always said I had a way with words.” Significantly the camera focuses on Dylan at this point. He is the smartest one. Nolan is on the roof, watching them walk away. Nolan on the roof, “Sorry I’ve been an asshole to you.” Okay personally, I can’t rule out Caitlin yet. Whose to say that the scene where she walks away happens around like 5 minutes before or 10? Giving her time to get up to the roof. We have no timeline here. It could’ even be Mona. It’s unclear. He confirms that it’s not only about him, Taylor’s alive and they need help. Who would they need help from? It’s someone who’s Nolan has been horrible to but he needs their help. Alison lives in Taylor’s house so it’s plausible that Taylor wrote that “They’re watching you” message and covered it in wallpaper or Claire covered it. So we don’t actually see Nolan fall. We don’t see the timeline. Whose to know that someone didn’t just stumble across this and didn’t see it physically happen in front of them. Ava has the most emotional reaction, Mona is extremely casual and Caitlin appears and looks at Jeremy. Jeremy. Hmm. Okay, so Ava and Dylan are gonna suspect Caitlin. The death happened in the exact way, Caitlin imagined after all. There’s a few ways this can go. A few different theories.

1. I saw a post on here yesterday where someone was comparing the bell tower deaths to Nolan falling off the roof. Marion also was pushed off the roof by Bethany. It’s an occurring theme to be pushed off a roof in this show. Marion, Ian off the bell tower and Charlotte. Mona was involved in two of these. This can be enough to suspect Mona. It’s in her character after all. Plus, Mona could’ve done it on orders of whoever she’s communicating with through mirrors

2. The conversation on the roof didn’t actually happen. Nolan lured someone up to the roof, somehow got them to agree to wear a Nolan mask and shoved them off the roof. He was the one that overheard Caitlin’s fantasy and recreated it to make the other two suspect her. He will now spend his days in hiding with his sister, cracking the mystery of the security system and such

3. The timeline isn’t clear. Caitlin had many shady moments in the first episode. She was loud about her fantasy to make Nolan disappear and expressed it on multiple occasions i.e “if someone hurt someone I love then yeah, I’d hurt them back.” telling Alison was a little too inspired by her fantasy to get rid of someone, Nolan and saying that she imagines Nolan dying in many ways, and the way that she described actually happened. Now, just because it seems a little obvious doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen. Nolan watches them all depart whilst he’s standing on the roof. Caitlin could’ve met him on the roof around 10 minutes later where she then pushed him because she believes that murder CAN be justified. She was one of the last people to turn up outside the university to see Nolan’s body after all.

The Mona theory may not add up, if she is communicating with someone through the mirrors as she’s asking “What the hell just happened. Was this our fault?” A person in a big room full of security things answers her telling her to go to her safe place. See, this can be interpreted in various ways - Mona has a personality disorder - This has never been said OUT LOUD. But she could really be talking to her other personality asking if this is our fault then being told to go to her a safe place, something therapists promote. But if she is communicating then, it can’t really make sense for that to Mona killing Nolan.

[thiskindofshootingstar]

Some of my thoughts from 6x09

Thank God Kane is finally dead. Like yeah his death was sad and he went out like s2-4 Kane deserved but I'll never get over him being the villain in s5 not helping Octavia, letting her be manipulated by Abby and gaia to be who they wanted and do what they wouldn't take responsibility for, and then blaming her for all of it and acting as if she was a monster for keeping her people alive. So I'm glad we're finally done with that, if only he could've taken Abby with him.

Related to that, at least Abby admitted to Kane dying because of her mistakes instead of trying to blame it on Octavia again.

Also, I feel like the "make sure we deserve to survive" popping back up in this episode where Abby literally murdered someone to save her dead boyfriend even though he didn't want it, while Octavia learns that "it's not about deserve" in the same episode was a real dig at Abby's do-anything-i-want-and-excuse-it-as-moral-superiority philosophy. Literally in that goodbye scene when they said deserve I responded with "it's not about deserve"

Which is one thing that I am glad the writers are finally and accurately acknowledging that a redemption arc isn't deserved--if it is then it's completely unnecessary-- it's about what you do to earn redemption. I was upset at the "forgiveness is for minor offenses, you murdered people" argument because Bellamy and Clarke literally trade off on forgiving each other for genocide, but whatever.

I was disappointed in the Octavia v. Blodreina showdown-- I really actually enjoyed and appreciated the Pike/Lincoln bits, it was all they could do since they couldn't get ricky-- but the actual fight was kinda meh and I don't really like that she killed Blodreina and also that the dichotomy presented was "Bellamy's sister" or Blodreina. It would've been so much more powerful if she had actually refused to fight/kill Blodreina, accepting her as part of herself while condemning her actions, and asserting that she is neither and both Bellamy's sister and Blodreina. She is Octavia, a person unto herself, not defined by either her relationship to a man nor her darkest deeds.

Another thing that is really bothering me is the complete dismissal of Raven's grayness. This season they keep trying to sell the story that Raven has never done anything wrong in her life ever. I literally scoffed at kane saying "you've always known what's right" because um, what about when she tortured Lincoln? What about when she first wanted to sacrifice Murphy to the grounders to save Finn, then wanted Clarke to assassinate Lexa to save Finn (and start a war which they 100% would've lost) when she KNEW he was guilty of massacring children and elders? What about the time she took the chip? What about the time she refused to give medicine to the dying flokru (I still agree with her on this that it would've been pointless, but from a compassion standpoint it was cruel)? What about all those times she facilitated or approved of Clarke's massacres/genocides? I'm just really tired of the show trying to make Raven seem innocent or the moral authority because she never has been and I love her for how complex she is and they're trying to remove that from her.

And lastly WHERE IS DIYOZA I NEED HER BACK