#and of course.. other nations know it was a brutal attack.. but there's something so deeply sinister

[woahjo]

i think all the time about the line "in what year did fire lord sozin defeat the air nation army" and then aang responding "is this a trick question? the air nomads didn't have a formal army" and the implications of the history that the fire nation had been rewriting for a century. the implication that the air nomads (a peaceful nation) weren't brutally ambushed, but rather that they were ready to fight and may have even been eager to do so. absolving the fire nation of some of the guilt in a total genocide and painting the narrative that the air nomads were ready to defend themselves and/or that the attack on the air nomads was anything but a one sided ambush. i think about it a lot.

[dynamightmite]

Some of the responses to my last post have made me realize that maybe Bakugo's trauma isn't as well understood as some of the other characters', and, because I have free time today, I figured I might as well break it down in chronological order and work from there (warning you now: this will be long).

To begin with, there's a lot of obvious things about the Sludge villain incident that would be traumatizing for basically anyone. And as much as Bakugo tried to shove off the after-effects, we know he was scared:

But there are a lot of Bakugo-specific reasons why the Sludge villain really fucked with his confidence and sense of self-worth. For one thing, while we see Midoriya getting attacked, he's rescued by All Might almost instantly. He barely has time to realize he's suffocating before he's free. Bakugo? Not so much. It's unclear how long, exactly, the Sludge villain holds him hostage, but it's at least a few minutes. Which doesn't sound very long until you remember that Bakugo was fourteen, couldn't breathe, and, because he isn't stupid, was completely aware that multiple pro heroes were basically standing around watching him be brutalized and doing absolutely nothing to help.

The only person who did help was Deku. The only person. The only person who gave enough of a shit about Bakugo to try and save him was the person he has the most complicated relationship with: his rival, his victim, his childhood friend, the person he feels both the safest and most exposed with. The person he measures himself against constantly, and internally finds himself lacking. So not only is all of this happening, but Deku—who just hours earlier Bakugo was mocking for being weak—is the one person strong enough to try and do something, and gets front row seats to Bakugo's own weakness.

Then All Might shows up and saves Bakugo from what is, at that point, the most humiliating, terrifying thing that has ever happened to him. But of course Bakugo isn't happy about it; he never wanted to be saved by All Might, and meeting his hero for the first time the way he did? What Bakugo wanted, desperately, was to prove himself to All Might, and instead he's just another dumb kid that got saved from a villain attack by the greatest pro hero who ever lived.

Not only that, but this was in public. It was televized. Bakugo was made so famous for it, people recognized him years later on the street based solely on his face. And while theoretically that's great exposure for him, imagine if the worst, most degrading moment of your entire life was broadcast on live, national television, and constantly brought up like some funny anecdote by people who don't even know you. He was fourteen years old being physically assaulted and strangled in front of the entire country and unable to do anything about it. Not only did that damage his pride, but it really fucked with him mentally. Look at what Midoriya even says about him:

That's not even to begin talking about how much pressure he puts himself under to be the best, no exceptions. He has a full-on panic attack when he loses in Deku vs. Kacchan 1 because he ties his self-worth so completely to winning he thinks of himself and worthless without it. Look how deeply it affects him:

That's not just bruised pride, that's Bakugo dealing with every single one of his insecurities being laid bare in public again. It's gonna just keep happening, too. And sure, like with this fight, sometimes he brings it on himself, but. Holy shit, this poor kid.

Then, of course, we have the kidnapping.

Despite their misapplication of their information, the LoV actually understands Bakugo pretty well. By that I mean, they figured out what affects Bakugo the most and capitalize on it to try and win him over to their side. They attack his image as a hero. Which seems kind of lame and generic, except it really hits home. Why?

Because that's his biggest insecurity, his deep, dark shame: Bakugo doesn't think of himself as heroic.

He's an excellent fighter and strategist, he's fearless, able to work well under pressure, adaptable, quick-thinking, and extremely powerful. All incredible traits for a hero. What he doesn't have is an instinct to save others. Deku does; he'll reach his hand out to anyone, without thought, no matter the cost to his safety/happiness. But Bakugo consistently struggles with this aspect of being a true hero. He's very aware of how important it is—every time he talks about Deku looking down on him, the thing he was laughing at Bakugo for? Yeah, this is it—and how very much he lacks it. And the LoV rubs his face in the fact that not only do a bunch of villains see him as being villainous, but the public he's supposed to be well on his way to protecting do, too. Yeah Aizawa defends him, but of course that whole experience negatively affects Bakugo. Especially because of what comes after.

Deku vs. Kacchan 2 is probably the closest Horikoshi comes to stabbing the audience through the brain with a knife labeled "Bakugo's trauma".

The whole fight is just Bakugo baring his soul in the most raw, heart-wrenching way possible. Look at what he asks Deku:

None of these lines should be ignored. This is Bakugo admitting that he is terrified that every bit of praise he's ever received is meaningless in the face of reality, which has proven that he is not worthy. All Might didn't think so, otherwise why wouldn't he have picked Bakugo to be his successor? Every ounce of skill, all the effort Bakugo has poured into his dream, it all means nothing. Why? Because Deku is inherently heroic, and Bakugo is not. Bakugo knows it, Midoriya knows it (why else would he be laughing in Bakugo's face if he wasn't intimately aware of his failures?), All Might knows it—hell, the whole world knows it. And because Bakugo is his own worst critic, he's gutted that someone like him, someone unworthy, destroyed the Symbol of Peace. His hero.

Does this not look like trauma? Does this not look like a kid poorly dealing with PTSD who's lashing out and trying to punish himself? And trying to purge his emotions the only way he knows how, through fighting? Who is desperately seeking some kind of compassion and connection in Deku, because he is losing his mind and can't keep going? He's a kid who's been given basically zero support, who's been expected to deal with not only being kidnapped and psychologically tortured, but also being the direct cause of Japan's sudden criminal uprising. That is so much pressure to put on a child. Any single bit of Bakugo's experience would be traumatizing by itself, but put together? It's like a personalized hell for him.

And then we have the Moment. The my body just moved on its own moment. Bakugo is so afraid for Deku leading up to this:

And afterward? It really affects him.

He's scared for Deku. He's beating himself up for not supporting him better, for not getting over himself and taking Deku's hand. He thought his closest person was going to die in front of his eyes, and then that person ran away. Of course that traumatized Bakugo.

Now, the reason Bakugo's trauma often gets overlooked (both in canon and in the fandom space) is, in my opinion, because he doesn't express his trauma in a way that's easy to romanticize. It often comes out as anger and violence, loud and obnoxious and toxic. His trauma responses hurt other people, specifically Deku. And in a character that isn't going for poor little meow meow bloodthirsty vengeance-based criminal or abused child with terrible social skills but a heart of gold, it's hard for people to wrap their heads around the fact that Bakugo isn't really a bad kid so much as he's a kid who has had a lot of crap dumped on him and hasn't been given any tools to heal. He doesn't know how to express his feelings easily or clearly when he isn't in the middle of a fight, and he has very few coping skills to help him deal with his crippling self-loathing and inferiority complex. So when he reaches his mental limit, he—pun intended—explodes.

That isn't to say that Bakugo isn't responsible for his trauma responses, the same way every other character is. He absolutely deserves to be taken to task over them, and the narrative has done a good job of giving him one consequence after the other. But at the same time, he really is just a child who is doing his best in a fucked up situation. And while his actions definitely have hurt other people, the amount of mental torment Bakugo finds himself in on a regular basis deserves more sympathy than I think he sometimes gets.

I understand why characters like Shoto get more of the poor baby treatment, because he's the perfect victim: faultless, and his anger is almost 100% directed at the perpetrator, his father. Comparatively, Bakugo's trauma is messy and overflowing and directed at all the wrong people. But that's neither unrealistic nor even all that surprising, given what we know about him. And part of that is because his trauma isn't nearly as straight-forward, since it's so wrapped up in his own self-esteem issues that he blames himself, and then tries to refocus his hurt and anger on Deku to mitigate his own pain.

It's a big part of why I like Bakugo so much; he represents the unappealing side of trauma responses that are so common, but so often get overlooked because they're unappealing. He's a victim who doesn't act the way we want a victim to act, but rather the way they usually do, and for that I applaud Horikoshi on his realism.

[edenfenixblogs]

Attention Goy Friends!

I was recently asked by another goy friend on Facebook to explain something. And I thought I’d share it here for people who are not in the know.

This person wanted to know why we get SO upset when synagogues are defaced. It wasn’t like they were telling me they didn’t understand why we got upset at all. But they didn’t seem to understand where the depth of feeling came from, especially when there is actual genocide happening to Palestinians. This is a good person acting in good faith and is working on holding two truths at once, so I answered. Here’s what I told them:

First of all, of course, we can fight for Palestinian liberation shoulder to shoulder and feel as awful as you do about it! I hate this genocidal Likud party and their deranged evil leader just like anyone else would. This does not mean we don’t also carry our own pain. It doesn’t mute the pain we carry for Palestinians. We just feel EVEN WORSE on top of that.

Second, with regard to synagogues and other places of Jewish social gathering—I think those of us living in Christian-majority nations all know a fair bit about Christian history just by way of cultural exchange. But if you are not aware—The Protestant split in Europe led to the translation of Church services and texts into English/the primary spoken languages of the various Western European nations worshipping within various Jesus-centric religions. This was a huge and important milestone for poor and lower class people who had every right to participate equally and fully in their religion and could now understand the scriptures and services.

However, to this day, shul is conducted in Hebrew. Prayers are sung in Hebrew. In every Jewish synagogue regardless of denomination. Sure, there are often parts in the common tongue of the area too, but the prayers themselves are still in Hebrew. Usually the same melodies or selection of melodies too. And it’s not because we are some elitist group, as some might claim.

It’s because, even in diaspora, I can go to any Jewish community in the entire world. I may not speak the common tongue of whatever place I end up. But I can go there, listen for the sound of Jewish prayer. If I have nothing to my name and no money or food or home or safety I can look for some Hebrew on a door or a Jewish star and listen for someone singing Oseh Shalom or the Shema Yisrael or the V’ahavta in the same melody that I learned it growing up. And I will have found safety. I will have found community. I will have found people who understand me.

And the part of this that I think most goyim don’t understand is that because of our long history with Christianity there is statistically a more than 50% chance that I or other members of my generation will actually NEED to employ that Jewish community as a resource in the exact circumstance I described above. Because we become victims of genocide within 2-3 generation intervals like clockwork for the last 2000 years.

When a synagogue is attacked in a nation that allows antisemitic hatred to foment unchecked it is such a brutal emotional blow. Because every synagogue destroyed is a safe place for Jews that is no longer safe. Not for the people who go there regularly. And certainly not for the people who may need to go there—who will VERY LIKELY need to go there. And with each space eliminated, we are sent further into diaspora.

[highfantasy-soul]

NATLA Episode 8 - Legends (2/4)

[Masterlist of my NATLA thoughts]

Of course, full spoilers ahead.

<previous/next>

I really enjoy how Zhao (Azula) is a much smarter villain in the live-action than he was in the animated series. While I do love them both, leaning into the Fire Nation not just working off brute force, but rather being strategic and clever with their attacks was a great choice. The Ice Moon caveat for the spirits and Kuruk's spirit knife made the world feel bigger to me than just having the moon and ocean spirits conveniently always sitting there to kill by any means. I don't think the live-action team went in with the idea that the ocean and moon spirits being mortal was 'a plothole to fill' like some claim (yet again, always jumping to the least charitable interpretation of the live-action rather than spending three seconds to think about what it ADDS to the story to flesh that part out), I think they used it to seed a lot of lore and worldbuilding while also giving reasons as to why events played out the way they did.

Like I said in my post about episode 6, it makes a lot more sense to me that Zhao would have easy access to the info (and weapon) needed to kill the Moon Spirit rather than that shlub somehow finding the super hidden library that an archeologist spent YEARS searching for. While it was a cool foreshadowing of the library in season 2, having Zhao discover the moon and ocean spirit stuff in Avatar Roku's temple in the live-action I think makes more sense.

The fire sage being the one to explain the spirit oasis and the origins of waterbending to Zhao was a really cool change! It shows Zhao formulating his plan rather than having it just told to us like in the animated version - it includes the lore behind the ocean and moon spirit without making it so obvious that that's the solution to their problem, it introduces it as the problem and we have to work our way to the solution instead of it just being given to us. The fact that the sages still know and revere (even though they're using it to form an attack plan) the histories of bending is a nice touch. Especially the older sages, they remember the old ways and stories and don't discount the power of the old tales like younger people might. It doesn't stop them from falling into fascism (it stops some, but not all), but it does add layers and nuance to their world view rather than the very surface-level 'all others are bad, we don't pay attention to them' view that was shown mostly in the animated version.

Kuruk appearing to Aang to warn him was super cool!! I like how past Avatars can appear to their current iteration (not to mention they were right outside his shrine) to warn them of something and having it be Kuruk's knife that he can feel added a lot. It's another instance where the Fire Nation can turn anything into a weapon against the world - the weapon Kuruk forged to PROTECT the world from evil spirits and keep the world in balance is now being twisted and used by the Fire Nation to hurt the good ones and throw the world out of balance. Just as Zhao and the Fire Sage took a beautiful story about the creation of the Water Tribes and twisted it into something to harm them, they're taking a weapon of protection and making it a brutal weapon against the light.

UUUGGGHHHH Zhao and his twisted 'justifications' as to why killing the moon isn't actually all that bad. "Killing the ocean would deprive people of their lives - I'm not a monster!" of course he wants a world to rule, so he can't kill them, only fully subjugate them and wipe out their culture! See, they will get to live under his amazing rule, why would he deny them that opportunity?? Watch closely, everyone - that's the reasoning a lot of fascists give when they start trying to eradicate cultural practices - they argue that they're leaving the people alive, so it's not actually bad! We're just stripping away their identity and replacing it with our own! Save the man, kill the savage and all that.

"The Avatar's power is great, but it pales in comparison to the elemental spirits" SUCH GREAT FORESHADOWING WITHOUT GIVING IT ALL AWAYYYY!!!!!!! Also a great way to show the power scale of the world - as powerful as Aang is in the Avatar state, the spirits are the OG - especially the elemental ones. Aang ISN'T the most powerful thing in this world. It sets up how they're going to defeat the fire nation army without Aang in control of the Avatar state really well! They're leaving breadcrumbs rather than telling you the plan in a monologue or just randomly deciding to join with the ocean spirit - a power that hadn't been discussed at all in the animated show.

That Momo fake out death was CRUEL!!!! He just saved a girl's life and we think he gave his life to do it!!!! But it was a great way to introduce not only the spirit oasis, but also the healing properties of its waters. In the animated show, that's not mentioned at all until Pakku gives Katara the water vial and tells her it can heal - it's actually SHOWN in the live-action that it's powers are beyond normal healing. Yue's story about her being healed in these waters makes a lot more sense here as well rather than in the animated series where she tells the story once the moon is in trouble. At the time, it seems like it has nothing to do with the immediate danger, it's just a way to set up that she'll give back that life in the end - a quick lore set-up break in the action. In the live-action, it's directly tied to what's happening - she's doing the same thing to Momo that was done to her to save her life. Her connection with the moon isn't relevant yet, so that part of the story is held till later when it is relevant.

Honestly, I think the spirit oasis is much more impressive in the live-action. In the animated show, it's just a small island of grass with a pond - in the live-action, it's a whole valley filled with life. And I love how NO adaptation can resist showing Zuko fire-blasting his way out from beneath the ice - it's just too damn cool to leave out! I like how Iroh is still playing his loyalties close to the chest - he's not going to outright attack Zhao yet, but he'll definitely stall and not help out as much as Zhao wants him to.

Zuzu!!!! Like always, huge shit is happening all around but Zuko still thinks him capturing Aang is the most important thing in the world. I like that they're keeping that narrow focus for him - one of his biggest flaws - that blinds him to everything around him. He's not concerned about saving Agna Qel'a, he's not concerned about saving the spirits, he just wants to capture Aang and restore his place in the Fire Nation.

His face as Katara says she's gonna fight him and Aang agreeing - oof. Here he is thinking he's Aang's biggest threat and Aang is just handing his battle off to Katara. And Aang's sly little 'go easy' that wasn't to Zuko - the poor thing. So we begin Zuko v Katara round 2!!! Back in episode 2 on Kyoshi Island, Katara stood against Zuko - untrained and terrified, but knowing she needed to protect Aang. She was beaten easily, but now, she's had training. She's had experience. She's forged herself into a warrior and she's ready for everything Zuko can dish out. Well, not EVERYTHING as even in the animated series, Zuko does win due to his extensive training, but she puts up a wicked fight!

I am good with the siege only lasting one day rather than several like in the animated version. Though I do miss the 'you rise with the moon, I rise with the sun' line, it does kind of feel like Zuko kidnapping Aang was more to provide a cliffhanger for the end of The Siege of the North: Part 1 rather than a necessary narrative choice. In a 2-part finale, yeah we want a cliffhanger, but since this is all one episode, like I mentioned in my post about how episode flow has to change given the new format, that just wouldn't have worked out as well as a smooth single-night attack. Aang seeking guidance before the battle rather than getting kidnapped mid-meditation I think was a smart move. (I've always felt like that cliffhanger was a bit of an odd choice anyways because they make this huge deal about Aang not being able to find his body if it isn't right where he left it, but then it's…not a problem at all - his spirit just zooms back to his body - conveniently showing the Gaang where to find him and Zuko and nothing actually comes of that 'threat' of him not being able to re-enter his body. I'll talk about Zuko's speech about Azula later when it's brought up and altered in the live-action).

I LOOOOOVE Zhao's little speech here - his ambition to gain status - to become a legend, has led him to more and more dangerous things. He truly believes he could become the new Fire Lord. Iroh pleads with him not to do it, but Zhao is too filled with the desire for power that he's not listening to reason. Even after Iroh's threats, Zhao isn't concerned in the least - he views the threats 'empty' and is so smug about how 'this could still work out for you'. As if Iroh is like Zhao and would cave to any opportunity for power.

Like always, Aang tries to talk his enemy down - he tries to appeal to their better nature, an idea that they wouldn't want to throw the world into chaos. The exchange here is SO FREAKING GOOD. Aang pleading with Zhao that this isn't power, Zhao so drunk on his own importance that he can't imagine why anyone would give up the chance to wipe out an entire race of benders - and Aang knowing exactly what that's like, how horrifically awful it is. But for Zhao, those are only stories - he's never known a world with airbenders in it, but Sozin went down in history for that 'accomplishment' he, himself, can be in the history books along side such a 'legend' with no thought to the actual real, human hurt necessary to get there.

Aang finally tries the last thing he can - making Zhao the same offer he made Zuko: leave the attack behind and he'll go with them peacefully. But Zhao isn't Zuko - he wants more than just the Avatar. He wants to cause pain and suffering and have people look upon him with fear. I think it's such an interesting take to have Zhao, like June, not view the Avatar with reverence. He's bought into the Fire Nation propaganda that the Avatar isn't actually all that powerful - the Fire Lord has taken that place. Even the legitimacy of the concept of the Avatar itself is called into question - after all, the Fire Nation wants all the power and the Avatar would stop them. That's not helping  them, so the Avatar must be useless.

Unknowingly, Zhao has just struck at Aang's biggest fear: while Zhao thinks the Avatar doesn't matter on its face, Aang is afraid that he's not good enough as an Avatar TO matter.

I've seen people confused about Iroh's loyalties and his true goal in the live-action - is he really working against the fire nation or not? And some criticism that it seems like he's helping Zuko capture Aang TOO much/ doesn't stop Zhao soon enough from killing the moon spirit. I'd point them, yet again, to the animated series where he very clearly, in The Waterbending Master episode, tells Zuko "once we get to the north pole, the Avatar will be yours". At the moment, animated Iroh is fully on board with Zuko capturing the Avatar. If he plans on trying to influence him not to turn the Avatar in to the fire lord, it's not even hinted at yet, so I think keeping it up in the air for the live-action is staying true to Iroh and Zuko not being 'good guys' - their goals are still to capture Aang. Live action Iroh even attacks Zhao BEFORE the animated Iroh does! In the animation, Iroh threatens Zhao, but doesn’t make a move until Zhao has killed the moon spirit - in the live-action, he attacks in an attempt to save the spirit. Yet another example of people criticizing the live-action for something even more apparent in the animated series - often because they're thinking of the character 2 seasons from now and what they think THAT version of the character would do and trying to apply it to season 1 when that's not even the characterization the animated show gave them in season 1.

I think the subsequent fight in the moonless night is even more emotionally intense in the live action than it was in the animated series. You can FEEL the terror and SEE people dying as the waterbending fails and the fire nation advance. The way this sequence was shot is honestly amazing - it's not gruesome or violent for the sake of it - it's showing the truth of war and the horrific cost of such an assault. Letting the warriors of the Northern Water Tribe have a heroic stand against the firebenders even when their best resource was taken away was great to see. Giving Hahn and Chief Arnook their moment showed that it truly wasn't just about Aang and his friends - this story is about every single person who stands up to fight against tyranny, no matter the weapon they might wield or power they have.

[shaftking]

Hope you're having a nice day! I'm genuinely curious what your thoughts on how to end the Palestine/Israel conflict are? I'm someone who's never fully understood war, when people have the ability to talk to each other about their differences - I know it's a childish notion but I've always wondered why nations can't just sit down and have a discussion. So anyway, yeah, I'm curious to know if you have any thoughts in relation to ending the conflict.

I think like a lot of people I have a lot of thoughts and emotions about the situation. It can be very hard to keep a level head when there is no end of people quite literally claiming blood libel and using the holocaust as a weapon to call Jews genociders and telling them to stop pretending to be victims (while they are literally being victimized!).

As someone who has been paying some amount of attention to the conflict in recent years it very much comes across as an issue of a side that has shown time and time again a willingness to compromise and a side that isn’t. That’s why the discussion is so difficult to be had. In broad terms (as of course there are pro Israel advocates that do not support a two state solution or something like it and pro palestine advocates who do) those who seem to continue to seek conversation and compromise and genuinely look at the history of not only the region from a secular perspective but from religious perspectives is the pro Israel side.

The climate around it has gotten very intense and hostile following Oct.7 for good reason, the attack was brutality in it’s rawest form. The reactions are a distillation of existing attitudes that people already held. The unfortunate truth is that the attitudes in the west about Israel are based in long held antisemitism coming from ideologies like Marxism and those it spawned, but the left courting Islam despite its values being counter to their own as well as the west.

It just seems neverending when palestine advocates are constantly caught out on lies and disinformation and weaponizing the goodwill of Jews and Christians especially who want to see peace in the world and want to do their best to be moral people. It’s half the point of them co-opting figures like Jesus to their movement and slogans, and it’s why they say things like “real Jews are anti Zionist” despite how contradictory that is in reality. It’s like every other week there’s some big trending story about the horrible war crimes Israel is committing, only for it to be immediately debunked because the pictures and/or story was stolen from the victims of some other war or worse, from Israeli victims killed by Palestinian attacks.

Look, I’m just some guy online, but as far as an end to the Israeli conflict? I don’t see it happening when one side is expected to combat completely unreasonable and violent groups with ceasefires and peace agreements those unreasonable and violent groups would never maintain.

[crownshattered-arch]

|| SO gonna reconstruct Anne's backstory, so this post is going to explain the new details, as well as explain Adrian, Anne's twin brother (younger twin)~ These things are super open to change, so they might not actually stick in the finished product. A lot of this has to do with how Fontaine works once we know more about it~

Background info!!

To start with, I'm changing their last name. Thinking about something with the root word "Diabolus". Any ideas of what to do with that would be SO appreciated!!

Anne and Adrian are in no way related to Diluc anymore. Their family has no apparent roots to Mondstadt anymore. Yeah, Anne looks a lot like Diluc, but that's just coincidental~ The Diabolus (working name until I change it XDD) family has lived in Fontaine for generations and has been an aristocratic family that is quite close to the Hydro Archon. However, everyone in this family has, for generations, seen Focalors as a joke.

Even though they are high class nobility in Fontaine, this family runs the criminal underworld of information in all of Fontaine...as well as all of Teyvat. That organization is called The Underworld, and Anne is the current head (this hasn't changed). She has branches in every nation with an executive acting as the head, but with the changes to her character, she doesn't need a Fontaine "executive" since she already runs this branch herself. She runs the Fontaine branch as well as the whole Underworld (though I may have Adrian do most of the Fontaine branch stuff...maybe idk)

Info about the twins' family!!

Anne and Adrian are hella close. They've been inseparable from birth. Anne is the older twin and Adrian is younger, and Anne has always been much stronger than Adrian. She was a strong and tough girl who always loved running around and getting into things, but Adrian was rather sickly as a child and couldn't always keep up with his sister. Whenever he couldn't keep up, his mother would keep him company.

As children, Anne was a lot like their mother--brave, strong, and so emotional and free-spirited. By contrast, Adrian was just like their father when their father was a child--quiet, shy, ill-bodied. But the two had each other, and that's all that mattered.

Their mother loved them very much and gave them enough love for both of their parents. However, their father was not a very affectionate parent. He loved his children, but in his own "proper nobility" way. He didn't play with them. He was always working. He was very distant from his children. Anne didn't really like him because of this, even as a young child, but Adrian still wanted to get his attention in any way possible.

I'm not sure when this will take place nor do I know much of the details, but at some point (maybe when they were around 10..?) SOMETHING happens that puts the family in danger. I really don't know the specifics and I would like to bounce my ideas off of someone, but what I want to end up happening is at some point Adrian is with his mother and sees her get brutally murdered right in front of him (like a shot through the head or something, something to really scar him) and I want something to happen later where Anne defends Adrian from a potentially fatal attack, getting her hand deeply cut in the process but also giving Anne her vision. Anne then burns herself with the intensity of her vision (her passion is INCREDIBLY strong and unstable, after all) and Adrian gets his hydro vision shortly after to heal his sister.

So their mom dies and Adrian sees it, and the two get their visions within the span of a few days at most~ But that was a long time ago. It has affected Anne, of course, but it really affected Adrian. He's now terrified of losing anyone else that he loves, so he does whatever he can now to keep his loved ones (especially Anne) safe, even if they don't need it. Even if they don't want it.

At some point fairly recently, their father retired and appointed Anne as the new head of the Underworld and the head of the family itself. She didn't want this, but she didn't want Adrian to be stuck in this role either, so she took it. That much hasn't changed.

In Anne and Adrian's original story, they have a very close connection to Lia (who I made for the same story, actually). I want to keep that connection. So, whenever Lia in her genshin verse fled Snezhnaya, she found the Underworld (either she was told to go there or she happened to find them) and Anne and Adrian kind of took her in for a bit and allowed her to lie low. They would NOT normally do this, so I need to figure out why they would do this for her (they are not a charity here). But in the time they kept Lia hidden, both twins fell in love with her, and Lia didn't return the feelings. They still keep tabs on her in Mondstadt. Anne just wants to make sure she's safe, and Adrian is a bit more...obsessive. (THIS DOESNT ALWAYS APPLY!! If I have a ship with Anne or Adrian that has lasted for a few years before the current story timeline, said twin did not fall in love with Lia. But if they weren't in a relationship when Lia was under their care, they fell for her.)

Info about Adrian himself!!

Hydro, thinking I may make him a bow user... Maybe a catalyst. The only reason I would make him a bow user is because his body is still kind of weak, but if Baizhu can be a catalyst user, so can Adrian XDD

Anne is scary because she's powerful, not just as the head of the Underworld but also because she is crazy strong with her pyro vision. However, Adrian is scary because he is unhinged. He's unpredictable, and if you cross him (or ESPECIALLY his sister) your life is in grave danger. Your only hope is to get on Anne's good side so she can restrain her brother.

Adrian is so loyal to Anne. These twins have a lot of death/grim reaper/devil motifs. So one way you can think about the twins is that Anne is Hades and Adrian is Cerebus. He is like her dog when it comes to work (but she doesn't treat him like a dog, she treats him like her younger brother who she loves so much. But he's very dog-like).

I don't exactly know what Adrian's job in the Underworld is... Maybe he will be Anne's right hand, but I think he will mostly be her most skilled informant. If she needs to personally send someone to get information, she will send her brother...unless she's worried he will make a mess of the situation.

BE CAREFUL WITH ADRIAN. He is totally yandere material. He can be nice at times, but he also highly obsessive when it comes to the people he cares about. The only reason he doesn't make "accidents" for anyone Anne is dating (thus taking his sister away from him in his eyes) is because Anne won't let him. Anyone else, however, he will cling to in an unhealthy manner. This will NOT be romanticized. This is just me exploring what Adrian's trauma has done to his mentality. But do not go into interacting with Adrian and assume he is some nice guy.

Adrian is my one token straight muse XDD I just don't see him being shipped with a guy...maybe this can change, but until then, these siblings only like girls XDD

More TBA..??

[whumpering-heights]

Behind The Masks: The Rescue

Masterlist

[A/N: And with this, we start the recovery arc! Though I might jump out of chronological order if I feel like it. ] Tagging: @pumpkin-spice-whump @octopus-reactivated @fanastyfinder @whumpy-arts-and-crafts @arsonfrogger @burtlederp CWs at the bottom of the post

Sidekick was rudely awoken by a blaring alarm. At first, he assumed he was still dreaming. It had been over a year since he had heard that particular alarm, there was no way it'd be ringing now. And yet, although he’d turned back around under his blankets, the beeping continued. Hero was shouting something in the kitchen, muffled through the walls.

No, the villain alert was definitely going off. For a second, Sidekick could hope that the past year had all been a nightmare. He shot awake with a hopeful realisation. Maybe Villain had escaped-!

But no. Even if he had, he wouldn’t ever be a threat again. So why was that godawful alert still blaring?

He put on his slippers and moved downstairs, wincing as he stumbled off the stairs. While Hero had kept his promise, and he wasn’t punished for Villain’s screwup, training had been brutal. He was sore and bruised all over, and his elbow hurt from when Hero pushed him to the floor two days ago. He couldn’t really stretch it. But that had been his own fault, so it didn't count, he supposed.

In the kitchen, Hero was yelling into the phone as he pulled on his suit.

“No, it can't be him. Yes, I did check, he's still here. This is just a copycat.” Looking at Sidekick, he hurriedly gestured at the zipper at the back of his neck. Sidekick quickly zipped him all the way up. Hero continued talking.

“For a scientist, you’re not very bright, are you! Yes, I should get some of the serum! Do you want me to fight drones without superstrength? No, of course I don’t know where the bleeding things come from, or who rebuilt them! Look, my job is to destroy them before they demolish the national bank. What’s that? Okay, and break out the prisoners in the asylum. Yeah, I’m on my way, get me the stupid serum and- the Mayor statue in the park, as well?”

He groaned. “Let them have that one. I’ll rebuild it myself, I don’t care, I-! No, Sidekick won’t be joining. He hurt himself during training. Yeah, be careful, that’s what I said. But you know how clumsy the kid is. “

The lie came out so smoothly, it almost made Sidekick believe it was true.

As Hero threw on his mask, he shot him a look, and Sidekick flinched. Even without words, he knew what that icy stare meant. Stay here. Don’t touch what you’re not supposed to. Don’t make me hurt you again, so next time you can pull your own weight.

Sidekick nodded, and the stare died down a little.

In a hurried flurry, Hero left the building, and all the automatic locks turned on. A safety precaution, of course. Not the most fire safe thing, since Sidekick only had keys to the front door, which would notify Hero if it were ever opened, but hey. It was for his own safety.

He sighed and pulled his phone from the charger in the living room. He checked his feed to see what was going on.

Sure enough, drones were attacking all of Villain’s former hot spots. The shaky cam footage showed they were near replicas of the original bots. A bit more low-budget, but the handiwork was clear. But that’s not possible, all those things were destroyed when the lab exploded! Sidekick read there had been cyberattacks, as well. The entire police force was overwhelmed, and Hero would have to spend all day cleaning up the mess. He only knew two people who could pull of a stunt like that: one was dead, and the other in the basement. So why-

A noise. Something slid open in the back of the house. Sidekick stood, frozen. Whoever it was, they were smart enough to avoid setting off the alarms.

Hero had enemies. Sidekick was home alone, and couldn’t properly use his dominant arm to fight. Crap, did he have time to get his throwing knifes from the training room? Maybe he should hide.. But Hero would kick his ass if anything got stolen. Before he could decide, the burglar entered the living room. Through the hole in his baklava, his brown eyes widened, and the two froze and stared at each other for a long, awkward moment. Sidekick wasn't sure he could win from the muscular stranger without his weapons, and he wasn't engaging... It seems he was just as surprised as he was.

Finally, the stranger spoke.

“What the hell are you still doing here? Weren’t you supposed to join Hero?”

Sidekick shrugged.

“I hurt myself during training.”

It didn’t even register as a lie. Just like a “bless you” after a sneeze, it had become an automated response. From what he could see behind the baklava, the stranger’s expression softened.

“Ah. I see. Look, no one has to get hurt today, okay?”

Something about the man’s timbre and eyes reminded Sidekick of someone. He squinted.

“... Vigilante? Is that you?”

The man was silent for a long time.

“.... No.”

The two stared at each other a moment, before Vigilante broke character.

“Okay, yeah, it is me. Look, Sidekick, I just know that deep down-”

“He’s in the basement.” Interrupted Sidekick, causing another confused pauze from the older man.

“Come again?”

“Villain. You’re here for him, right? He’s in the basement. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Hero it was you, and I’ll scramble the CCTV footage when you’re gone. I’ve been doing it all year when I go down there, and Hero still thinks the camera is just buggy.”

Vigilante blinked for a moment.

“I mean... My tech support has already set up to scramble every camera in this neighbourhood, so I’m good. But thank you.”

He had tech support? Must be the same person who recreated the drones. This wasn't a coincidence: this was a planned attack. But who could it possibly be? To Sidekick’s knowledge, Villain had no living allies. Hell, even Vigilante didn’t like the guy. But as they looked at each other, they understood why the other was helping. Regardless of side, this was flat out wrong, and needed to be stopped. Vigilante nodded at him.

“Alright. I’m actually glad I caught you here, Sidekick. You could leave, too.”

Sidekick laughed out loud at that. It wasn’t a happy sound. Vigilante frowned.

“I’m serious. I’m an expert at avoiding Hero, he’d never find you. I’ll already have two wanted men in my house, I can add a third.”

Sidekick frowned in confusion. Villain was already wanted criminal number one, but who would the second be? Only one name would make this puzzle add up, but it couldn’t be... No, time to worry about that later. He shook his head.

“You want me to quit, go freelance like you?”

“Or you could go back to school,” offered Vigilante. Sidekick chuckled.

“Yeah, right. Look, you’re wasting your breath here. I will be the next Hero, someday. I need to be here to do that.”

“But, what about Hero? Sidekick, he hurts you. Don’t deny it, I know he does.”

Without realising, Sidekick rubbed his busted arm. There were still bruises on his wrists and ankles from his bout in the chair.

“No. I mean, yeah, but... This whole Villain thing. It just brings out the worst in him. He has flaws, but that’s why I’ll be a better hero than him later! Once I turn 18, I’ll get the serum, and everything will be alright then. If I just stop screwing up, and try harder, and mind his moods, it’s all fine.”

Vigilante sighed deeply. “Look kid, I know what he’s like-”

Sidekick's voice got a defensive edge.

“I’m not a kid, and no, you don’t know anything about him! Not like I do! You abandoned him, he told me everything.”

Hero didn't like to talk about his early crimefighting days, before he'd taken Sidekick in. But he'd told him over and over again how one should pick their friends well, and that loyalty was the most important virtue of all. Vigilante was quiet for a moment.

“Did he also tell you why I quit?” He asked. “How we used to get orders to beat up the homeless, and how he didn't appreciate me talking back? So yes, I finally saw what kind of person my friend was, and I left. It took me way too long to see that.” His eyes shoot up and down Sidekick for a second.

“And a month later, he adopts you. I suppose you don't talk back as much, right?”

The hairs on Sidekick's neck stood up, and he wished Vigilante would just rescue Villain and leave. He crossed his arms and took a step back.

“What, you think I’m some kind of replacement?”

His tone was mocking, but Vigilante stayed serious.

“I don’t, but I’ll bet he does. All I’m saying, is don’t be surprised if one day you get too independent for him to handle. When he's tired of it, he’ll seek someone more impressionable. He's pulled crap like that since high school.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, and wrote down a number. He held it out to Sidekick.

“You're not going to change him. When you’re ready, call this number, okay?”

Sidekick swallowed past the lump in his throat. He was wrong. Hero wasn’t like that, he wasn’t. Some part of him must be genuinely fond of him, right? Sure, he was tough, and they'd had fights. But once Villain was gone, everything would return to normal. He had to give Hero another chance. And yet, the redhead found himself taking the note. He would hide it in the crawlspace behind the wall. Just in case. He didn't know what to say for a long while.

“You’re wrong. I won’t ever call this. Just get Villain and go.” He mumbled. Vigilante nodded, and moved to the stairwell, as his note lay hot in Sidekick's hands.

Vigilante opened the cell door. Inside, the air was stale. It took a minute before he spotted Villain, and when he did, his breath caught in his throat. He was so thin... Even thinner somehow than when he's appeared on tv. Even from a distance, Vigilante could see the way his pale skin clung to his bones, the sores that wouldn't heal. His face looked like it was recovering from a beating. Villain's eyes were closed in sleep, but even in rest, his expression was uneasy. He was muttering something, with a look of muted sorrow.

For a second, Vigilante was paralyzed with guilt. Then, he swallowed past it and set about releasing him. The manacle was rudimentary, just a simple lock. As he was picking it, the other man stirred. He was clutching something in his sleep, and curled tighter around it.

"N-no, a bit longer...” He pleaded in his sleep. “Please, let me have it a bit longer.”

Even with the monotone of someone not yet awake, the tone haunted Vigilante. He gently shook Villain's shoulder.

“Hey man, wake up. I'm here to bust you out.”

When Villain blinked his eyes open, it was clear he was foggy with more than just sleep. His eyes were bleary, and his skin feverish from withdrawal. He looked in Vigilante's general direction, but clearly wasn't seeing him.

“Please, Hero, a little bit longer.” He clutched the piece of cloth closer, curling up over it like he was scared it would be taken. Vigilante laid a hand on his shoulder, causing Villain to flinch. He tried to keep his voice calm.

“Villain, I’m not Hero. It’s me, Vigilante. Hey, can you look at me?” Villain’s eyes turned to him. After some effort, they seemed to focus. Still, his face showed no recognition, just a dazed confusion. “Villain? Can you see me?”

“You’re... you’re not Hero.” He whispered. Vigilante rubbed his thumb over his shoulder in support. He had to have some of his sense left, surely.

“Yes, that’s right Villain. Hero has blonde hair, mine is brown, see?” The man laying on the cot frowned. He licked his lips, trying to find the words.

“You- you’re... I knew you. I knew you, didn’t I?”

Vigilante frowned, but tried to keep a friendly face.

“Hey now, no need to use past tense, right? You’re still you, I’m still me. Come on, I beat you up enough times. Surely you remember that?”

Finally, some semblance of clarity passed over Villain’s face. His voice was hoarse.

“You’re.. Vigilante? Is it really you?”

Vigilante smiled.

“Yeah, it’s me. There you are.”

Villain didn’t look happy to see him. In fact, he looked horrified.

“Oh no,” he whispered, with a visible twinge of sympathy. “He got you too?”

Villain grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Please, you have to leave, you- he, he can’t...” He seemed to lose his train of thought, staring blanky ahead. He was grasping Vigilante’s shoulder as hard as he could. Vigilante barely felt it. Villain muttered.

“No, he- you have to... something, I’m...No, what was I...?” He looked back at Vigilante, a frown on his face.

“Wh-who are... You’re...you’re not Hero.” Vigilante swallowed a lump in his throat.

“No, you’re right, Villain. I’m not. Let’s get you out of here.”

-------------------------------------------------------

[CWs: starvation, drugs, withdrawal, child abuse, mention of homelessness abuse]

[shifuaang]

I’ve censored names because I don’t want anyone to be sent hate, but this post and the amount of likes it got enraged me so much that I had to say something about it. This truly might be the worst take I’ve ever seen about both Katara and Aang.

Let’s address how this is harmful to Katara first. The original poster seems to want Katara to keep her scars for the aesthetic™, which is already a really gross concept, but I cannot stress enough how disgusting it is to want a female character to bear permanent, painful markings in order to give a male character ‘more development.’

We are shown routinely throughout ATLA that scars are not just physical indications of trauma but emotional ones as well. 

The only person we see who has scars for “cool” character design reasons is Jeong Jeong, but even then we can assume he received them while he was fighting in the war or because he became a deserter. 

All of these characters have these scars to serve as a constant reminder of the Fire Nation’s brutality and ruthlessness. Katara doesn’t need a physical reminder of this. She already deals with the tremendous, traumatizing loss of her mother on a daily basis. How could you possibly think that it would be good to scar Katara just to ‘punish’ Aang while completely disregarding how it will affect her emotionally?

Katara should not have to bear the emotional and physical weight of Aang’s mistakes in order to teach him a lesson. 

It also completely undermines her moment when she learns she’s a healer. She gets this incredible gift that is so special to her because it means she is able to be both a fighter and a healer. These two sides of her are crucial in her fight for justice and compassion, and the healing aspect is a beautiful addition to a character who is so ‘down in the trenches’ in her approach to achieve these things.

This revelation is not only important to Katara as a character but also integral to so many pieces of the plot. If she hadn’t realized she could heal scars, she wouldn’t have offered to try healing Zuko’s in The Crossroads of Destiny. The chess pieces are constantly being set up in Book 1 in strategic and deliberate ways. I’m all for headcanons and fan concepts, but not when they dismantle the plot and characters for, frankly, sexist reasons.

Onto Aang. 

There is absolutely zero indication that Aang did not suffer the consequences from burning Katara. He is immediately remorseful. He is so incredibly guilty that he swears off firebending for good. He is attacked by Sokka, and is probably reeling over the idea that his best friends and the only people he has in this world might never forgive him for his mistake.

But Katara does forgive him, way faster than he forgives himself, as we see him struggle with memory of hurting her well into Book 3. 

Zuko burns Toph accidentally, but absolutely no one chastises him for this or holds him to the standards they hold Aang. And sure, you could argue Zuko makes his mistake as an act of self-defense while Aang is just goofing around, but Aang is literally twelve when this happened. Don’t tell me that you never unintentionally hurt yourself or others when you were messing around as a preteen. Sokka lists an array of injuries he’s sustained at the end of The Deserter, and while I’m sure most of them were self-inflicted, I can’t imagine that Katara wasn’t involved in any of those instances. They’re kids - all of them, and Aang is the youngest of the bunch, so of course he still has lessons to learn. That doesn’t mean he should have to suffer the ramifications of his adolescent mistakes forever.

His impatience to learn firebending also stems from the fact that he only has until summer’s end to do so. It’s not an excuse for him not taking Jeong Jeong’s warnings seriously, but it is an explanation. And he learns from it. The way we see him handle fire and the responsibility of bending fire in The Firebending Masters proves that he’s matured. 

Aang, Book 1: Jeong Jeong tried to tell me that I wasn't ready. I wouldn't listen.

Aang, Book 3:  All this time, I thought firebending was destruction. Since I hurt Katara, I've been too afraid and hesitant. But now I know what it really is ... it's energy, and life.

The audacity, the gall, the absolute nerve that it takes to say that Aang, a survivor of genocide who lost all of his family and friends and entire culture, “gets let off easy too much” is appalling to me. I’m not sure how many times I have to say that Aang honoring his culture and people and going against the tide - fighting back against the notion that he can’t preserve the traditions and beliefs of his people while being the Avatar at the same time - is not, by any stretch of the imagination, easy.

I don’t know how many times have to say that a child does not deserve to live with the trauma of killing someone, but I’m going to say it again. A CHILD DOES NOT DESERVE TO LIVE WITH THE TRAUMA OF KILLING SOMEONE.

If you truly still believe that the lion turtle/energybending is an easy fix, just read this meta because they explain perfectly why it is not.

And to the last point about Aang ‘getting to be with Katara’ as some kind of “reward” for winning the war, Aang never views Katara as a prize. Need I remind you that he completely drops any type of romantic expression towards her after she rejects his advances in The Ember Island Players? He lets her make the decision as to whether or not she wants to be with him. They get together because the timing is finally right for them - there is no more confusion or violence to prevent them from being together, and Katara no longer has to worry about losing someone she loves. 

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Imagine Sokka becoming jealous when he finds out you and Zuko have a history together

Your POV

Your father Piando was the best sword fighting teacher in all the four nations and people came from all over to seek his guidance. So you’d met many men who trained with your father but none of them were like Sokka, or more accurately Sokka wasn't like anyone else who passed through your father’s door. Mainly because he openly admitted he wasn’t perfect which none of the other men had ever dared to do. They’d openly boasted all their achievements hoping to impress your father whereas Sokka was brutally honest about himself and you respected that. Your father was intrigued too and so Sokka was allowed to train with him.

You were also very intrigued and observed Sokka’s training to see what this unique man would do. You watched amused as Sokka completed every single task with his own unique style and grew fonder of him with each passing day. You never interfered with your fathers training methods but you did help Sokka where you could and became friends.

When Sokka completed his training it was time for him to leave and you felt sad. It was nice to have someone so unique and refreshingly imperfect. You and your father both disliked the fire nation and your father always told you it would change eventually. Watching the avatar leave you couldn’t help but wonder if the time was now and realised how much you wanted to be a part of it. "Go" your father said suddenly and you paused "what?". "Join them" he smiled passing you a packed bag and your sword "i always knew you were destined for greatness and this is it....why do you think i pressed you to be so skilled with a sword? Go with Sokka and help him overthrow the firelord". You paused overwhelmed with emotion so you just hugged him "thank you". "You're welcome...just don't get any closer to Sokka okay?". You blushed but made no promises. You ran out of the house and caught Sokka as he was halfway down the road. "Sokka i..." you paused as Sokka and all his friends looked at you and you took a breath "i was wondering if you wanted any help defeating the firelord?". "You want to help us?" Aang asked and you nodded "i’m pretty good with a sword and i know a lot about the fire nation....i’d like to help, i want to fight". Sokka pretended to think before grinning "welcome to the team y/n!".

You worked with Sokka on his invasion plan for the fire nation and provided Aang with invaluable information on the firelord. You and Sokka grew closer and started dating pretty soon after you joined the group. You loved your time travelling with the gang and finally felt like things were changing for the better when a piece of your past came back to you.

You had just arrived at the western air temple and after finally getting Aang to talk to you were interrupted by the prince of the fire nation. Everyone rushed to attack him but you just stood there frozen between shock and awkwardness. Eventually you came forward to stand beside Sokka and listened as the others all debated letting Zuko join. Finally the group agreed to let Zuko join and only then did he fully look up from the ground at you all and he spotted you immediately. "Y/n?" Zuko asked and you smiled "hi Zuko". "Wait you two know each other?" Katara asked. "Yeah my father taught Zuko how to use his dual swords a couple of years ago". Zuko nodded "see her father is this amazing swordsman famous in the fire nation known for....". "Yeah i know, i’ve met him" Sokka replied "and he also trained me so you're not the only sword master here". Zuko nodded awkwardly and you changed the subject.

You showed Zuko around as nobody else wanted to and because you wanted to help make him feel welcome. You also wanted to apologise for not telling the gang you knew each other. You explained to Zuko how you didn’t vouch for him earlier because you thought it was Aang’s place not yours and he understood your reasons. You caught up over everything you’d missed in the fire nation and Zuko’s life while Sokka watched with a confused expression.

Sokka’s POV

"I can believe i had no idea they were friends" Sokka cried and Katara sighed "y/n never said they were friends she just said they knew each other, also how would you know? It never came up". "Yeah but y/n knew we were conspiring against the firelord and she never mentioned she knew his son....do you think that’s odd?”. Sokka’s eyes drifted back to where you were both sat together "and now they're sat laughing and joking around together". Katara sighed "i’m sure they're both just happy to be around people they know, Zuko probably just feels more comfortable around her because she’s from the fire nation too, she knows what it’s like". Sokka raised an eyebrow not convinced. The way you and Zuko acted was way too familiar for casual acquaintances. You seemed very at ease with each other and Sokka couldn’t help but feel you were hiding something about this from him.

Later

You were sat around the campfire drinking tea Zuko made with the group when you realised your boyfriend was missing. You searched all over for him before you finally found him. "There you are!" you called spotting Sokka stood at the edge of the woods "why are you all the way out here it’s freezing". "I don’t feel the cold" Sokka said and you snorted "you don’t feel the cold?" you asked imitating him mockingly and Sokka shook his head but smiled "i meant...i have more of a tolerance to it than you because i grew up surrounded by snow and ice" Sokka said nudging you playfully. You smiled at him and took his hand in yours "well that may be but i still think you shouldn’t be out here all alone, come back to the fire with me, Zuko was telling jokes it was crazy!". "No thanks" Sokka said abruptly dropping your hard and you paused "what?". "I don’t want to listen to Zuko be hilarious and watch him become even better than he already is". You paused "Sokka is everything okay....". "Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?". You paused "i...it didn’t come up plus i wasn’t sure it was relevant...I knew Zuko a while ago, it’s not like we’re close". "I thought the same thing but then i saw the two of you together and you seemed comfortable, familiar even and it made me think....has something ever happened between you two?". You paled and Sokka gasped "i knew it! You like him!". "What? Sokka of course i don't, i left to come with you right?". "So why...". "Okay so while he was being trained with my father we became friends and we might have maybe gone on a couple of dates...". "YOU WHAT!" Sokka cried and you jumped "Sokka it’s not that big a deal! It was like 4 times! Then he left for the capital and we never ever spoke again, you have to believe me". Sokka nodded his head as you stared at him fiercely "i do just wow i can’t believe you dated?". You shrugged "i don’t even know if you can call it that, it was just casual and fun, neither of us were expecting anything long term...it was literally just some fun". Sokka paused "is it...does Zuko still seem fun to you?". You shook your head "Sokka i’d never dated anyone before Zuko...that was half the appeal! The other half was he’s a prince, which when i was younger seemed amazing. I’m older now and not so easily enticed by titles or just any guy. It takes a lot more, someone as great as you" you smiled up at him "and trust me Zuko will never seem as good to me as you do”. Sokka smiled and looked at you "really?". "Really" you nodded and kissed him. Sokka was enjoying it before a thought popped into his head "wait when you two dated did you ever...have you kissed Zuko?". Your eyes widened again and Sokka gasped "you have! Y/n!". "It was only a few times!" you cried and Sokka gaped "of all the girls i fall for...her ex-boyfriend is the future firelord...". "He wasn’t my boyfriend and i...wait girl you've fallen for?". Sokka blushed "well i figured it was pretty obvious...wasn’t i?". "No but even if it was hearing you say it...i’m falling for you too Sokka and that’s why this whole Zuko thing is just...so what if i’ve dated and kissed Zuko? That’s so far in the past! I don’t feel anything for him anymore and even if i did there’s no way it’d ever compare with you...nothing and nobody could". "Not even a fancy nobel man?" Sokka asked smiling and you shook your head "nope". "Or a titled tribal leader?". "No" you grinned and Sokka smiled "what about the earth king?". "Isn’t he like 40?" you asked and Sokka’s smile dropped "ow so if he wasn’t then he'd be an option". You got worried Sokka was actually upset when his frown was replaced with a smile "i’m kidding" he grinned. "You're an ass" you said pushing him but Sokka caught your hands and pulled you to him swiftly. "Yeah i know that’s what you like so much about me...my winning personality". “That’s one of the reasons” you grinned and before Sokka could ask you to list all the reasons you tugged his hand “now can we go back to the fire? I don’t have your water tribe protection from the cold”. Sokka nodded wrapping an arm around you “let's go”. You and Sokka reached the fire and sat together, Sokka stayed close to you to try and share his body heat with you and you willingly leant into him savouring it.

“They look happy” Zuko commented to Katara who nodded smiling. She wasn’t technically speaking to Zuko but she loved you and Sokka as a couple and it melted away her anger. “They are” she smiled. “I’m glad y/n found someone, she deserves someone good”. Katara frowned as Zuko was obviously talking like he knew you well but she didn’t push it. She just smiled seeing her brother so obviously in love with someone who loved him back just as much.

[lucemferto]

Hey girl, don’t mind me, I just quickly went and rewrote Dream SMP Season 2.

I’m focusing on the big plot stuff from Season 2, which makes it really easy for me to make it good, because I don’t have to contend with all the hard parts like dialogue and scene pacing and stuff. As an additional challenge to myself, I try to change as little as possible. If I don’t mention stuff (like the Egg-Arc) then that means I’m fine with them the way they are.

I wrote this in an hour, so don't expect it to be good, pls.

Whether you agree or think this is trash, I'd be so interested to hear your thoughts!

ACT I

Fundy’s early arc with Ghostbur, Eret and Phil is great and should stay the way it is. It sets up the character relationships and potential for conflict that we can explore in the future.

Similarly, I wouldn’t change too much about the conflict during Exile with one exception: Both Tommy and Quackity don’t want to include Technoblade. Instead, they believe that they can take one Dream by themselves – this is important for Techno’s, Tommy’s and Quackity’s personal journey later on. In this rewrite, Quackity also didn’t found El Rapids, but instead recruited George & Sapnap to L’Manburg – because his stated goal is to make L’Manburg the strongest nation on the server, so why would he make a rival nation with a plotline that goes nowhere?

What’s also important is that it’s revealed that Dream has a spy in L’Manburg around here. Maybe Tommy confessed his burning of George’s house during a cabinet meeting and word still got out to Dream. Who knows, but it’s important for later.

Something big that I would change about this Act I is that I would give Techno an actual B-plot. As it stands, Techno’s early plotline was just “Grrr, I’m angry that Tommy would use me like that! Someone killed my cows and robbed me! L’Manburg will know my wrath”

3 weeks later

“Nevermind, I’m a pacifist now and live in the arctic”

Instead, we pick up where S1 left off. Techno is intent on destroying L’Manburg and instituting anarchy. During that time, he comes into conflict with Quackity’s henchmen (Fundy, George, Sapnap, etc.) to establish that L’Manburg could be an actual threat to him.

We also have some conflict with Phil. They’re old war buddies, but Phil’s son built L’Manburg and Phil himself is unofficially Tubbo’s advisor. I think them reconstituting their friendship will take up this early part until Tommy’s exile – it makes for a nice foil to Tommy’s and Tubbo’s friendship falling apart.

Technoblade also tries to recruit people like HBomb and Niki to his cause, but they’re hesitant, because, you know, he sent Withers to destroy their home. Not the best first impression. Techno is hurt, but convinced it’s because of L’Manburg propaganda and they don’t want to work with him, because they don’t see him as useful.

ACT II Part 1

Exile-Arc basically stays exactly the same – with one notable difference. When Technoblade comes to visit Tommy it’s not to mock him – it’s as a final attempt to convince Tommy to join him. It’s a first culmination of Techno’s character journey so far: His previous interactions with the citizenry of L’Manburg has left him shaken, but not shaken enough.

Tommy truly does need “The Blade” right now and he has no reason to further believe L’Manburg’s propaganda. So, by Technoblade’s inner logic, Tommy should accept.

But he doesn’t. Tommy viciously rips into Technoblade and gets very personal (he’s in a bad space, understandably) – Techno can play it off nonchalantly, but either the cinematography or some later moment shows us that he was hurt by this.

Nevertheless, he gives Tommy a compass that points to his HQ, showing us that he cares about Tommy, like he did during their early days in Pogtopia.

This is where we implement some big changes. The story of Technoblade and the Butcher Army becomes the A-plot, while the Exile becomes the B-plot.

It makes perfect sense. The Exile-Arc is a very inward-focused, almost a character study of Tommy and Dream. It doesn’t have a lot of big narrative movement – so the perfect time to execute on that narrative movement in the storyline that has a lot of moving pieces.

So, after Tommy chewed him out, Techno is hurt and meets with Philza. Techno then explains that for him anarchy always was the natural order of things – to fight for a world where only the strongest survive – but pursuing anarchy like that has left him empty. Philza then explains that anarchy should be more about helping people and building an equal community.

We’re all but stating a major thematic conflict of this storyline: Fighting those who wronged you vs. Helping those in need. All this while also exploring the philosophy of anarchy with Techno and Philza serving as symbolic stand-ins for some different thoughts on the matter.

So, while Tommy’s Exile is going on, Techno refines his approach. This goes hand in hand with Quackity using his henchman to turn L’Manburg into a totalitarian police state in order to root out Dream’s traitor (told you it would become important later).

This will be the main conflict here in the first half of Act 2. Quackity and Philza will play shoulder-devil and shoulder-angel respectively for Tubbo and Fundy, pulling them in different directions. Ghostbur also hangs around L’Manburg – a constant reminder for Tubbo of the most sanitized version of President Wilbur and the lofty ideas he stood for.

This is another big thematic conflict for this storyline – externalized in part through Ghostbur’s presence: When do the ends no longer justify the means? It also feeds into the motif of Tubbo and Tommy becoming like Schlatt and Wilbur respectively (even if that’s still mostly superficial).

During this political turmoil, Niki is getting into Quackity’s crosshairs. She opposes his policing and brutal methods. So Quackity really focuses in on her and she has to live with constant surveillance, searches, etc. Niki tries to talk to Tubbo about this, but he says it’s necessary to keep L’Manburg safe. Slowly, Niki grows disillusioned with L’Manburg.

It is during this time that Niki gets into contact with Techno and the two start to form a bond and helping the citizenry hold out hope during this time (I don’t know who would be the citizenry, probably people that don’t have their own storyline going on such as HBomb, Vikkstar, Lazarbeam, etc.)

And we can have a few lorestreams like that, where the conceit is that Techno’s sneaking into L’Manburg to help people and there’s actual tension.

All this culminates in Hog Hunt. Fundy sees Phil, Niki and Techno team-up. He confronts them after Techno left and Phil begs Fundy to not out them – but their divide has grown too deep (and we’ve actually shown that during Fundy’s streams this time).

Quackity has Phil and Niki incarcerated (L’Manburg has a prison now, it’s not as good as Pandora’s Vualt). Tubbo is deeply disturbed that Philza and Niki would betray him by working with the man that took one of his canon lives and finally gives the Butcher Army his presidential approval. Quackity was already prepared and the events of Hog Hunt play out as we know them.

ACT II Part 2

Again, plays out relatively similarly, except for one major difference: Tommy comes to Techno with the explicit purpose of asking for his help. Exile has left him really hardened, probably more so than we have currently.

This would a.) make Tommy a bit more proactive in his partnership with Techno and b.) actually gives some weight to Techno’s later beef with Tommy, because now it’s based on more than just some flimsy phrasing during S1.

Otherwise, this plays out relatively similarly – Techno and Tommy maybe share a few more character moments, just to drive home that Techno cares about Tommy. Also, none of that dumb keeping it a secret whether or not we destroy L’Manburg – that’s some contrived nonsense and I hate it.

Tommy knows that Techno wants to destroy L’Manburg and while he’s conflicted, he ultimately goes along with. Once he gets his discs back, everything will be over after all. The destruction of L’Manburg will have been worth it.

Part of the rising action will be breaking Phil and Niki out of prison instead of the petty bullshit about Techno’s items that he doesn’t need. This is where we have the initial confrontation between Tommy and Tubbo (and Techno doesn’t ruin the moment by being his worst self).

Other plot points include: Techno receives the Wither Skulls over the course of him and Tommy working together by some mysterious benefactor. This is after he and Tommy confronted Dream. He doesn’t tell Tommy who the benefactor is, even though he knows (spoilers: it’s Dream).

Meanwhile, Tommy, Techno, Niki and Phil are secretly rigging New L’Manburg with TNT a la Wilbur, just to really drive that comparison home. Niki is getting really angry; she has suffered enough and she’s really gonna get revenge.

One of her big moments of terrorism before the Green Festival is burning down the L’Mantree (maybe we can include some character conflict Fundy, so we have these two people who were once really close friends now so warped and torn apart by these two sides at war).

Meanwhile, Quackity has figured out that Ranboo was the traitor and is pushing for Tubbo to execute Ranboo for the greater good of L’Manburg. Tubbo is hesitant, but as there’s no moderate voice in the cabinet anymore, he concedes to the idea.

Finally, the Green Festival is here. This part is really … tough to rewrite, because you have to accommodate so many different character arcs, but I’ll try my best.

In a move not unlike during the Red Festival, Ranboo is revealed as the traitor and put in the execution cage (because those parallels). Tubbo feels really bad about it.

This is when Tommy and Techno start their assault and unleash the whithers. L’Manburg is under attack and we have the big fight between Tubbo and Tommy. We get the big shout-out “The discs were worth more than you ever were” and the ensuing epiphany on Tommy part.

Techno’s calling for him to explode the TNT, but he doesn’t do it.

Quackity is calling for Tubbo to execute Ranboo, but Tubbo has an epiphany himself and refuses. Both their personal conflicts are resolved here. Also, we have some nice parallelism between Quackity and Techno as Tubbo’s and Tommy’s respective bad influences.

Techno – understandably this time – feels betrayed and hurt. He and Tommy have their shouting match. Quackity tries to attack Techno, but during their match they accidentally trigger the TNT. Quackity’s hunger for power has created the grave of his ambitions.

(Niki is also pissed at Tommy and Fundy is fully distraught, because L’Manburg was everything he had left from Wilbur).

Dream steps out of the shadows and reveals that he was Techno’s mysterious benefactor. He gets his hands on the second disc and gloats to Tommy. The scene from Doomsday plays out only that Techno shows some stings of remorse for helping Dream accomplish what he wanted. (Quackity flees the ensuing chaos).

Dream tries to goad Tommy with the discs, but Tommy doesn’t bite, because he has resolved his Want vs. Need now. Dream is frustrated, but retreats for now.

ACT III

In the aftermath of ACT II, I think it’s very important to hammer home that this wasn’t a win for Techno, Niki or Phil. For that to work I think it’s important to make clear that Tommy’s and Techno’s bond was genuine and that they really cared for each other during the Bedrock Bros thing. Neither of them is happy for how this turned.

Niki is plagued by nightmares and sleeps in a prison cell like in the current canon. She stands in symbolic for the emptiness that vengeance brings. Phil is shaken from his talk to Ghostbur and he’s the one who brings up that maybe what they did wasn’t for the best.

Then Techno and Phil have a discussion about the nature of anarchy again, calling back to that earlier conversation at the beginning of Act 2. Techno also feels empty – his vengeance and the destruction he wrought left him no happier.

Meanwhile, Punz and Tommy are actually spending some quality bonding time. Thanks to the medium, they could simulate that pretty well. Punz actually gets attached and when Dream mentions his coup-de-grâce, the cinematography shows that Punz isn’t too happy about it.

Tommy and Tubbo prepare to fight Dream on their own terms. They know, they have to stop him lest he hurts the people they care about (this makes both of them a bit more proactive in the finale). Punz (as per Dream’s orders) tells Tommy where Dream is hiding. Tommy thanks him, oblivious that Punz is a traitor, but Punz feels bad. He has grown attached to Tommy.

During the Final Disc War we actually get two perspectives: One is Tommy’s and Tubbo’s as we know it (only without the constant “Your discs or Tubbo”-stuff) and the other is Punz’s. He has decided to help Tommy even though there’s nothing monetarily in it for him.

First, he goes to Quackity, but Quackity says that Tommy has betrayed him and L’Manburg and that he gets what’s coming to him.

In a last-ditch effort, he goes to Techno. Here’s where we resolve that thematic conflict (Vengeance vs. Charity) for the Techno-Butcher Army storyline: Quackity has chosen to perpetuate the cycle of vengeance (because he will be the villain in S3), but we want some nice character development for Techno.

Niki is against it and stays put, but Techno and Philza ultimately decide to go with Punz and the others to help Tommy.

Finale plays out the same. Stuff’s still awkward between Techno and Tommy/Tubbo; they haven’t resolved all their problems, but it’s a first step. Some good set-up for S3.

And that’s my basic rewrite. It’s long and probably not the best.

[last-herondale]

Casual Encounters

✨Loki✨ pt. 4

Pairings: Fem!reader x Loki

Material: Angst, Fighting

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Anxiety, implications of child harm, fighting

A/N: Hello! I’ve really been enjoying writing this series! This part is more reader focused, but Loki is present. I plan on more exclusive loki x reader scenes, and even try my hand at an explicit scene at some point! I hope to explain (Y/N)’s powers soon in future parts for anyone that is confused!

💫

Sam landed the Quinjet as softly as possible just outside of the city limits along the Matanza River. Barton had set up camp not long after the Avengers went missing within the national park of Ezeiza in order to keep a low profile from the Argentinian government. With the city under martial law, the flexibility the Avengers had to investigate was brutally diminished. Missing children of a whole city was one enormous issue, but now seven Avengers had also gone missing in the same mysterious manner. The strongest of humanities heroes just gone in a puff of smoke, without a trace. This was going to be the biggest mission of your life.

Your team touched down, successfully evading detection from any government security. You exited the Quinjet and stepped into the bright Argentinian sky, blinking as the sun hit your face. In any other setting you would have loved to stop and admire your surroundings. The green forest was breathtaking in the early morning sun, the araucaria trees standing high above the ground vegetation, their limbs spread out wide as if they were embracing the sun. You could hear the river rushing over rocks somewhere out of sight, and your anxiety eased knowing you were close to water in case anything went wrong. You followed behind Sam as he led the way into the forest, your hands clenched tight at your side.

You had been on missions before, of course. Minor details where you had aided in stopping terrorists attacks, and the occasional suped up villain, but never something so vast as this. Nothing where the people you admired, the people who trained you, had disappeared. “You okay kid?” Sam asked, his tone stern but his face soft with concern. He was a natural leader, and so much like Steve in many ways, and yet he had so much compassion. He was in military mode, Avenger mode, but he was still your friend.

“Just shaken up I guess,” you admitted, “Children disappearing, now this? How could something like this happen?” You looked to Sam for reassurance, a habit you’ve had since you became an Avenger. If it wasn’t Sam, it was Steve or Tony or Natasha. Sam tried to hold his resolve, but there was a dimness in his eyes that made your blood run cold. “I don’t know. After everything I’ve seen in my life so far, I’m still surprised I can be… surprised.”

Sam patted you on the shoulder gently and turned to face Wanda, Scott, and Loki who were right on your tail. Wanda had a grim look on her face as if her mind was far away. Scott looked more confused than anything as he kept his head down chatting with Loki. Loki was staring at you, a small grin of reassurance on his mouth for a moment before he brought his attention to Sam.

“Barton’s camp is somewhere on the other side of the River. I don’t have an exact location, but he will debrief us on the situation in further detail once we find him. Wanda,” Sam addressed her, his voice gentle. She snapped her head up, determination fierce in her eyes. “If you and (Y/N) can run point ahead and find Barton the rest of us will meet you at the river.” Wanda looked to you immediately and nodded her head. You took a deep breath and nodded her head back at her. An aura of red emitted from her hands as she began to hover above the ground and started forward further into the forest. You extended one arm towards one of the towering trees beside you, feeling the water drain out of the plant and encircle around your fingertips. You winced at the sight of the now dead tree, its color now dull and gray. You hated taking life from plants, but in this case it was necessary.

Following Wanda’s movements, you used the water to hover yourself off the forest floor and through the trees. You had practiced this move several times with Wanda and Sam, but doing it under pressure, when your nerves were fried, made your movements shaky and unstable. The two of you sped past the trees, not taking time to watch the beautiful scenery pass you by. Soon the two of you came across the river easily, your body was drawn to it like magnets. You both stopped on the edge of the other side of the river, Wanda deep in concentration.

She was searching for Barton telepathically, her eyes closed and her fingers twitching with red flares. She had been on edge since she got the call from Barton on movie night. Vision had been one of the disappeared, and now she was on a warpath to get him back. You wondered what kind of pain she could be in. You knew what it was like to lose a loved one. Your mother, your father, your sister… But to lose the one you chose to love… that you couldn’t know.

“He’s close,” she said, her Sokovian accent slightly pushing through. It always did when she was stressed, “Just a couple of miles ahead. You ready?” She looked at you and your face felt flushed. “Yes,” you assured her, although your hands were already shaking, the process of flying was more draining than you had thought. Wanda didn’t miss a beat. Her face softened, and she put a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t push yourself, (Y/N). Just wait here for Sam and the others, help them cross the river. I’ll be back soon.” You wanted to refuse. Sam had given the two of you specific orders, but the look in Wanda’s eyes indicated that she was not making a suggestion. Your shoulders slumped in defeat and you nodded to her. She gave you a weak smile and squeezed your shoulder. In the next moment she was gone, two small orbs of scarlet disappearing into the forest.

You stood there, alone within the forest as the cries of birds echoed in the distance. You examined your surroundings, letting yourself take in the beauty of the trees and the river. You had always been a nature child, preferring sunbathing amongst water lilies to playgrounds in parks. You found a large fallen log on the edge of the river and took a seat, pulling your knees close to your chest. It was hard not to think of home in a place like this.

They were memories hard to bury, but you had done it for so long that it came to you like second nature. You closed your eyes, pressing your head to your knees. You let your mind flash to images of your friends. They flickered across like still photos, all of the memories you had of them passing by, burning into your mind. I will see them again. You repeated this thought over and over again until it felt as solid as the log underneath you.

You would not lose them too.

The sound of rustling made your head snap up, your eyes darted across the trunks of trees and the thick underbrush. You got up slowly, turning your palms upwards, allowing a smooth stream of water to run up your arm. The rustling continued, getting closer and more intense. “Sam?” you called out, your body becoming tense and rigid. Your team would have made themselves known to you by now, and you moved your body into a defensive stance as the rustling continued. You took a step back, submerging one foot into the river entirely, the chill of the rushing water biting your skin.

Then you heard it. The unmistakable sound of a child, laughing. Your eyes widened, as a small brown haired child emerged from the forest. He had to be no older than five, his large brown eyes staring at you with wonder. You immediately felt drawn to the child, your heart feeling a sliver of hope.

“Hello,” you said softly, dropping your defensive stance immediately, “Are you hurt?”

The child was in tattered clothing, barefoot and dirty as if he hadn’t been bathed for days. He stood still against the trunk of a tree, the shade of the trees hiding him from the sun.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you,” you said softly, holding up your hands as you stepped out of the river and moved towards the boy. You took another few steps towards him, being careful not to scare the child. He was only a few feet away from you now, his features becoming more pronounced and refined. The child had scrapes on his knees, and twisted twigs and leaves amid his dark curls. He held his hands in front of him, outstretched for you to hold him. Your heart panged for the child as you took another step.

The child pulled back his upper lip, revealing a sharp row of jagged shark teeth. He hissed at you as he lunged for your throat, his small body propelling off of the tree with unnatural speed. Instinctively you held your hands up to shield yourself from the blow, a scream ripping from your lips as the child tried to bite down on your forearm. Water ripped up from the ground beneath you, killing the grass in your immediate area as it wrapped around your arm, freezing just in time to armor your arm. The sting of the cold made you cry out, but the ice kept the child at bay.

The child snarled as its teeth were caught on ice, only inches from your skin. The boy’s eyes had gone dark, his pupils enlarged, blocking out all of the whites of his eyes. His little hands were clawing at you, his fingernails scraping against the hard fabric of your suit. There was a carnal desire in the child’s dark eyes. He wanted to rip you apart piece by piece. You could overpower him, easily, but the idea of striking down the child was horrendous to you.

“(Y/N)!” a familiar voice called from behind you. You turned to look at Loki, the sound of his feet furiously slushing through the river to get to you. The child took advantage of your distracted state, and broke his teeth out of your icey protection. You pushed against the dirt with your combat boots, trying to distance yourself from the child as it dropped down into a crouch, ready to pounce again.

“Please,” you begged the child as you extended your shaking arm towards the river. It snarled again, its back arched animalistically as it bared its teeth. The world seemed to slow down as the child lunged for your throat again. You braced for impact, just as water traced the tips of your fingertips, forming thick icicle daggers on each finger. Tears welled in your eyes as the child grew closer, knowing what you would have to do next.

Before the child made contact, he was suddenly thrown backwards by invisible hands. His head made a sickening crack against the truck of a tree and he slumped on the floor, motionless. Your eyes blinked, shocked, as the ice on your hand melted away.

“(Y/N),” Loki called, his voice breathless as he crouched in front of you. You flinched away from him, your whole body shaking violently with shock. “(Y/N), it's me, you’re safe. Are you hurt? Did that thing hurt you?” His voice was stern. His hands hovered over you cautiously, unsure of where to touch you in case you were hurt.

“Is he dead?” you asked, your voice a cracked whisper, “The child… is he dead?” Loki’s eyes widened, the realization hitting him immediately. He turned in the direction of the child, but he refused to leave your side. He turned back to you, his brow furrowed. “Are you hurt?” he demanded, his voice harsh. You shook your head violently. You tried to stand, your legs wobbled as you did so. Loki made an irritated noise, but held out his arm for you to help steady you.

You pushed past him, eyes searching frantically for the child. Maybe there was still time. Maybe you could heal him… Your brows furrowed in confusion as you searched the forest floor. You had only looked away for a second… how could this be?

“(Y/N)?” Loki asked.

“He’s gone,” you whispered. You turned to Loki, tears falling down your face. “The child is gone.”

[dennou-translations]

Violet Evergarden Ever After: Chapter 2

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The Night and the Auto-Memories Doll

   Everything went around.

From past to present and from present to future. The dead bodies that decayed within the soil would dissolve into the earth, and from the earth, too, would new living creatures be born. Within a few hours’ time, curtains made of stars and nightly shades would be covered over by curtains in the colors of dawn.

People went around as well.

Children would be born, muster out their voices, start walking and, once they became aware of their own selves, their stories would begin. A cycle of discovering passion, coming to know love, stopping to be children and, upon sympathizing with other families, birthing offspring just as their parents had done. A cycle of learning about the world, spreading information, teaching their knowledge to younglings without sparing any of it away and generating more such younglings. A cycle in which someone’s story was someone else’s encouragement, and those who were encouraged would conceive stories of their own.

Everything went around.

There was one cycle here. It was the story of a meager cycle that likely could happen anywhere in the world.

A man picked up a wild beast from a small island to which he had drifted. It was a beautiful beast, but it had been stocked with skills long before coming to his hands. Skills for slaughtering people with ease and seeking submission.

Their first meeting was terrible. His underling had attempted to lay his hands on the beast’s beauty. As if it were a given, the beast had killed his many subordinates, leaving only one person. That was him. Granting him both disaster and salvation at the same time, the beast had sought subservience in regards to the man.

The man fled around the island where all but himself had been murdered, but gave in and accepted the beast. The beast was useful, but also an existence that he could not handle. Be it morning, noon or night, his head was troubled with the beast, his heart unable to calm down.

Essentially, he was a man who did not want to be shackled by anything. After all, he had a past of being forced into submission by his household and parents. He had escaped from his responsibilities and his home, jumping off into the sea. The man, who had been born in a family that bore the name of a flower, had run away and gained freedom.

He yearned for it – for a freedom that no one could steal from him – more than anything. Even if he had to cast away his little brother for it. Therefore, the man had done the same in the beast’s case. The one who mattered most to him was himself. He wanted to break free from that horror. Most likely, he had cut off from himself a child in need of salvation.

Everything went around.

——O God, I want to                                .

Everything.

   A voice that sounded like bells echoed.

“Captain,” it whispered, as if to tickle the man’s ears. “Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”

It was evening. A time when people were returning to their homes.

“What would you like to do?”

An orange light shone from the window inlaid with stained glass. With the sunset reflected on the elaborately designed interior decoration, the place itself looked like a single work of art.

“Could it be that, because of the impact earlier, your hearing has...”

It was supposed to be. The place where the person who called out so insistently and the person who intentionally ignored her were in was an art gallery that just recently had its interior and exterior finished.

“As if.”

“I am relieved. Then, I would like to ask if you have a plan.”

In a place they were not supposed to be at, the two who were not supposed to be together were kneeling on the floor in resignation.

“Captain.”

“.............................”

“The civilians are in a predicament.”

“................................”

“Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”

“............”

“What would you like to do?”

“..................”

“I would like to ask if you have a plan, by any chance.”

“.....................”

“The civilians are in a predicament.”

“........................”

“If I may offer my opinion, firstly, I could act as a decoy—”

“Be quiet, monster. Don’t keep repeating the same thing over and over. Don’t breathe either. I’m thinking right now.”

Dietfried Bougainvillea, a naval captain of Leidenschaftlich, eldest son of the Bougainvillea – a household of patriotic national heroes – and the man who had picked up Violet Evergarden in the past and brought her to this country, was covering his eyes with his hands due to having too much on his plate. The little bit of silence and darkness had brought him relief, but someone’s sobbing, the voice of a man reproaching it and the sound of a person being brutally kicked and tumbling down dragged him back to reality.

He had a severe headache. Whether it was caused by his anxiety or his injury, he had no idea. He put a hand on the back of his head and examined it, but only a bit of blood had come out.

In order to somehow spit such awful mood out of his body, he took deep breaths. He felt that he had become a little better, but the unpleasant sensation returned once he opened his eyes and cast his gaze at the woman next to him. A spoon of discomfort, rejection and fear each was thrown into Dietfried’s emotional vessels, set on fire and boiled up. However, the most prominent feeling was something else.

The woman who had been talking to him so insistently until a moment ago was now quiet just and not letting out a single breath as he had told her. Violet Evergarden.

Dietfried looked fixatedly at his former servant. The woman, whose appearance had transfigured considerably in comparison to when they had first met, bore a radiantly shining cold beauty, which was even more conspicuous under such tense circumstances. She was almost like an ice sculpture, Dietfried thought.

——Even though you used to stink like a wild beast...

She now smelled of nothing but flowers.

——...you turned out just as I’d imagined.

“You’re a siren.”

Silence.

“My little brother destroyed a train station just to keep you alive; you’re a siren through and through. I’m not into you, but my mental stability is wrecked right now, and I’m sensing the harmfulness and influence that your existence brings about in that. You’re unmatched when it comes to breaking things and causing problems.”

Dietfried had once told his brother that the beast could become a siren. He had meant to say so including all sorts of matters. This young woman named Violet was a creature that God had created by mistake and had not been born under a good star. When one was by her side, there were many of them.

“Damn troublemaker.”

Many problems. Even though she had not wished for it, she had been born this way. Under a star that attracted disasters.

——It goes round. All of it.

He ran and ran from her, yet they would end up meeting, thus Dietfried had started to think that it might be some sort of divine revelation at this point. Telling him to face the girl that he had thrown away.

Violet was still, hand on her brooch. He someway guessed that it was given to her by his younger brother. He felt like clicking his tongue. This girl might become the worst-ever wife whose hand his most beloved little brother was going to take.

——We can leave that for later; gotta overthrow this situation first.

Determined to fight this reality, Dietfried then turned his gaze towards the sight that spread out before his eyes. Women, men, elderly people – everyone was crouching on the floor with guns pointed at them regardless of anything. Obviously, the same applied to Dietfried and Violet.

Unexpected situations – situations in which they could not make a false move even if they were on their own, let alone in the presence of so many civilians – were responsible for this. On top of it, Dietfried was also saddled with someone that he had to protect despite not wanting to. Of course he would feel like clicking his tongue at it.

Perhaps they were thought to be lovers, as no one said anything even while they stayed close to each other.

“Hey, did you really stop breathing?”

She did not seem to be in agony, but her figure as she diligently obeyed made Dietfried feel uneasy.

“I was joking; breathe.”

Violet’s blue eyes blinked with a snap.

“Yes.”

And then, she finally let out a breath. Dietfried hated himself for being remotely relieved that she had safely started breathing again, was what he thought.

“Hey, you.”

“Yes.”

“From now on, follow my orders. Don’t act on your own accord.”

“All right.”

“I’m gonna save the civilians. It’s my duty. There’s no helping it, so I’m counting you in that math too... No idea what my little brother would do if he found out I’d let you die. Even if it weren’t on purpose, if anything that could kill you happened under these circumstances, I really have no way of knowing what he’d do. He’d probably hate me.”

“No, Captain, he—”

“Have some self-awareness, Monster. My foolish younger brother blew up a train station to let you live. This fact did turn into a subject of teasing towards Gil for no matter how much time passes from now, but if you think about it on normal terms, it’s out of the ordinary. That’s the way you’ve changed him. Damn witch...”

She was the tool that he had found and that used to exist for his sake. A woman who used to be a dog with no name. An orphan whom he had picked up from a solitary island, brought back with him, attempted to get the most out of yet was unable to, and then threw away.

Asset. Girl soldier. Automatic assassination doll. Witch.

——Even if I don’t want to, for now, I gotta protect this thing and take it home.

“I’ll save you, so you save me too, Witch.”

Fate went around, adding a chance meeting as the best seasoning for a finishing touch. After all, at this very moment, Violet Evergarden and Dietfried Bougainvillea were being attacked by robbers and had weapons thrust at them.

“That’s awfully unpleasant for me, but I’ll take action by considering your life to be the top priority. Not for you. For my little brother.”

Understanding that she had received permission to talk once she had received permission to breathe, Violet gave her own opinion, “No.” She did it directly, without any restraint. “No, that is my job, Captain. Major... Lord Gilbert loves you.”

Dietfried’s eyes blinked. Those green orbs were staring fixatedly at Violet since earlier, enough to seem like they would suck her in. They were green jewels in a different shade from his younger brother’s. Those green gems, enveloped in shock, reflected Violet’s serious gaze.

“I shall guard you, no matter what happens,” Violet declared with resolution, like a knight. “I will obey your orders to the best of my abilities, but if I judge it to be dangerous, I shall take action with your safeguarding as the maximum priority.”

“Hey.”

“I will definitely protect you and bring you to Major safely. Please do not leave my side, Captain.”

“That’s my line,” Dietfried said while nonetheless wanting to kill Violet.

   For the exchange between the two to reach this stage, things had first begun when morning visited Leidenschaftlich. This might be going back much too far in time for a clarification, but it all had indeed started since daybreak.

The morning weather was overflowing with sunlight on that day – typical of Leidenschaftlich in early summer. Early rising ladies formed queues in the bakeries that opened at dawn and little birds flew about the shops’ surroundings to receive breadcrumbs. There was a café three stores away from one of the popular bakeries, famous for serving floral teas, its signboard girl preparing to open it. If one went further ahead, there was a bank, and round said bank, there was a main street lined with large-scale shops.

An art gallery arranged to open the next day had been erected on the main street. Its name was Artemisia. It bore the name of its owner, who was an artist.

The gallery Artemisia displayed the works of its proprietor, of course, but it also had works of artists from within and abroad Leidenschaftlich. There were rows of works from unknown young artists that the owner had taken interest in as well, devoted as she was to the cultivation of new talents.

The Artemisia Gallery, which was to become a place where novel forms of Leidenschaftlich’s art would be born, was scheduled to hold a pre-opening party today, attended only by the people concerned. The gallery’s staff had started cleaning its interior and the sidewalk in front of it from morning.

Around noon, a restaurant employee hired for the sake of that day had visited, bringing in wine, snacks and table sets. As for the dishes, there were two types: the ones that had already been prepared and the ones that would be made by borrowing the kitchen of the owner’s residence, which had been built on the gallery’s top floor. Since eating was not the main focus, the preparations were merely enough for the upcoming guests not to feel hungry.

As evening came, the inside of Artemisia began to speed up with haste. If there were anyone in command of such a scenery, they would likely be asserting with a baton: “hurry”, “faster”, “elegantly”.

An envelope closed with a wax seal bearing the establishment’s crest. Customers arrived one after another with the invitation taken from inside of it at hand. For a pre-opening party with a limited number of invitees, there was a large amount of people. The elect few of Artemisia’s employees were in a flurry of activity.

“Bring me a coat” here, “not enough drinks” there, a plate breaking somewhere. “Where’s the owner?”, “Got caught by the guests”. “There’s no one to give us instructions”, “Oh, well” – just like this, things descended into chaos behind the scenes.

Normally, their job was to calmly recommend artistic goods. Therefore, they were unable to hide their bewilderment at handling so many visitors at first. Nevertheless, if one looked at the guests being entertained, how were they? Appreciating the artworks, looking like they were having a blast. Upon seeing this, the employees were able to understand deep down. That “what, so things are the same as usual”. By the time that the customers were completely familiar with the gallery’s interior, the employees were able to show smiles with a little bit of ease.

Among the guests invited to Artemisia, a foreign body completely unrelated to this world was mixed in.

It was a woman. A beautiful one at that. From an appreciative viewpoint, there would be nothing to complain about if she were one of the artworks. She was clad in a ribbon-tie one-piece dress, snow-white as a flower in full bloom on a summer day. Her long, softly curved golden hair extended to her waist. Perhaps she had come straight from work, as she held a heavy-looking trolley bag on one hand. “Click, click,” knocked her cocoa-brown boots against the marble flooring each time she took a step.

She walked while observing every artwork one by one. Idyllic landscape paintings, abstract paintings that looked like silver ink spilled on pure-white paper, oil paintings in which the people seemed as if they would move at any moment. Glassworks and ceramics that one would be very afraid even to look at from nearby. At first, the exhibition was of works from artists renowned within the country, but the small hall of its latter half integrated displays from artists who were still nameless. The woman stopped in front of one such work.

A painting of whimsical fantasy. Was it a winter sea? It depicted various things falling and sinking into dark and cold water. A pocket watch, a feather, a bed, a knife, a white flower and a chair. All were worn-out and had damaged parts. At first glance, one would not know what it was expressing. Only the boy painted in the center seemed to pierce through the viewer.

He was still a teenager and his appearance could also be considered that of a girl. After staring at him for a while, the feeling that he was supposed to be saved would surface. Because the boy had a facial expression that almost looked like he was making eye contact with the viewer as he fell. But this could not come true. He was sinking in the picture. No one on this side could do anything. One would not know what to do with themselves after looking at it – it was that kind of picture.

“Excuse me; I was the one who painted this. Is there anything wrong with this painti...”

Suddenly, a voice called to the woman from behind. A rock thrown into the quiet atmosphere. A low tone that cut through the dimness of the room.

People were mostly heading towards the famous artists, so the woman had been all by herself on that spot until just now. The man who had showed up a bit late was coincidentally the creator of that fantastical painting, and found himself talking to the woman who had stopped in front of his art. That was an extremely natural encounter for a pair. If their positions, circumstances and everything else were different, something might have been born between them. It did not have to be romantic love, just something – something else that “the two of them originally had”.

“Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”

The moment the woman turned around, the space resounded with a loud squeak. It actually had not resounded, but at the very least, Dietfried heard the thump of his own heartbeat, which gave his whole body goosebumps. He was enveloped in a strange sensation, as if the blood inside him were flowing backwards. One of the things he had once evaded in his life was standing there.

“What’re you doing, Monster?”

Violet Evergarden.

Before the emerald eyes that Dietfried possessed, of a hue different from his younger brother’s, there was a young female Auto-Memories Doll. The reason why he had not recognized her from the back was likely that her golden hair was slovenly loose.

He had not had a chance to see her after she had become a grown-up ever since the incident during the Flying Letters. Only people who had great amount of interaction with each other would be able to tell such a thing just by looking at someone’s back.

“I was looking at the paintings, Captain.”

Violet was expressionless. However, her hand alone promptly searched for her emerald brooch and squeezed it.

“You, paintings? Can you understand them?”

First, a scornful laugh, and then a head start with a verbal attack. She needed to put up a defense line. After all, this girl was formerly a weapon. An automatic assassination doll.

“I cannot. It is just that... my eyes and legs stopped.”

She was the one and only woman that Dietfried feared. If he had run into anyone else, his emotions would not be so disrupted.

Dietfried was scared. This girl was terrifying.

“I caused you trouble last time.”

He knew the things she had done. He knew whom she had killed. And he also recalled how he used to treat her, telling himself that it was all right.

“By asking about Major.”

Because she was a monster.

——O God, I want to                                .

These words wandered about in his head. They were words that he had prayed in his childhood to the one that he would meet at some point – probably in his dying moments. Thinking back on it now, it had been a foolish, immature and helpless wish, but he was serious about it at the time.

Looking at this girl made him remember his embarrassing past self.

“I shall see myself out. Captain, please take your time.”

“Hey.”

Violet had decided to retreat from the place, putting it to action. She concluded that this would be a peaceful solution for both sides and that it would secure each other’s survival.

“Hey, wait.”

However, Dietfried still had something that he wanted to say.

At the call of restraint, Violet’s feet halted mid-step. She then gazed at Dietfried. “Why?” her eyes were asking.

Choosing to leave must have been her own way of showing respect. Considering the current and the previous relationship between two of them, it was a sound judgement. Hence, she stared at him presumptuous and mutely.

Even now, it pierced Dietfried. That quiet “why” perforated him.

Despite being the one who had told her to wait, Dietfried lost sight of his next words. He had tons of complaints. Rather, complaints were the only thing that ever came out of his mouth. Most likely, he had never presented any warm words or attitude to her. No, he had at least patted her head when they parted. But what about it? That was all he had done. Which perhaps was the reason why.

——What did you think of that painting?

Just a question like this was exceptionally challenging for him. If it were anyone else, he would surely be able to ask as easily as breathing. He could also boast that he was the one who had painted it. However, only with this woman was it so difficult.

A long silence drifted between the two. A truly long, long silence.

The mood was almost like two beasts had come across each other in the wilderness and were estimating which would attack first. Both were underdeveloped and, not matching their insides, only their appearances were actually full-fledged. Seen from the sidelines, they were a beautiful adult man and woman looking at each other, but the air flowing between them was that of a battlefield.

Dietfried was starting to sweat. As for Violet, even her breathing was becoming shallower.

Violet seemed to be thinking about something. She opened and closed her mouth, repeating it several times. What should she do in that situation? What was best? She was probably unable to decide. This was something that not just Violet but also Dietfried was thinking about, yet the degree of seriousness in behavior was surprisingly higher on Violet’s side.

She would normally not be like this.

He was the person that even Violet Evergarden, who had written so many letters, was at loss as to how to act around. That was the man called Dietfried.

Perhaps her thinking had eventually arrived to a conclusion, Violet left her baggage on the floor and put her hands behind her back. “Feel free to.”

At first, Dietfried had no idea what she was doing. Violet looked like she was offering her body.

“Ha...?”

Without hesitation, almost as if she were a tool.

“I am still. Feel free to.”

“Feel free to feast on my life,” she seemed to say. Her current self overlapped with the beast of the past.

“To do what, is what I’m asking...” Dietfried’s mouth felt sticky, giving him a hard time mustering words out. His head had been occupied mostly with how to mend the blunder that he had exposed to her, so he could not respond to Violet’s surprise attack immediately.

“Do you not remember? I used to do this whenever I had to receive reprimand or punishment.”

He could not. All of the information that had been fluttering about in Dietfried’s head until now disappeared. It vanished.

“You, what the...”

The owner of the blue eyes that stared at Dietfried as if to shoot through him always did unexpected things, tossing him about.

“I did not know how to speak back then, so in order to show that I had no intention to attack you, Captain, I would do this.”

Those eyes.

“No matter what I say, surely... there is no atonement for me. With time, I have come to understand the things I... did. And how much terror I made you go through. Nevertheless, I am grateful for the kindliness of placing me under Lord Gilbert. I wish to pay you back somehow. If you say that it is unnecessary, at the very least, do as you please.”

For whatever reason, when those eyes asked him “why”...

“Be it with fists or with reproach, as much as you want.”

...his chest ached as if it had been stabbed.

“Feel free to.”

If that place were not a quiet art gallery, Dietfried would have yelled furiously at her, without caring about shame or his reputation. He managed to ball his fists hard enough for it to hurt and swallow down his angry voice due to his high level of self-respect.

“I hate that about you...”

This girl always made him aware that she would never act as he expected.

“...to death.”

At the words spoken by Dietfried’s quivering tone, Violet took a step back. Her stance of offering herself did not change, but her instincts were on-guard, wondering if she was not going to be killed by this man. Seeing that, Dietfried sneered at her figure.

“You’re the one who could choke the life out of me anytime,” he seemed to say.

Dietfried suddenly felt the heat that had gone up his head cooling down. Violet had taken a step back. That became the trigger for him to regain his composure. Because he was able to reconfirm that she was but a child in the end. This innocent aspect and action that were much like what a child would show to an adult exerted a great influence on the other party. Dietfried loathed that.

For he, who despised interventions from anyone, had so much aversion to it that it make him want to vomit.

Those who were accustomed to oppression from others would very easily choose to hurt people. She was inwardly frightened of that tendency. Yet albeit frightened, she prioritized others over herself. That creature was like a mass of contradictions.

——Disgusting. Stop. Die. Don’t look at me.

He did not want to get involved with her. But he had a mountain of things to say. However, when it came to whether or not he could properly do it, even if he managed to squeeze them out, they would turn into nothing but abusive language.

There was a large lake between the two of them and all they could do was gaze at the opposite shore, unable to tell how deep it was. Their first meeting was to blame for that. It was the cause of everything.

His underlings had attacked her and she had killed all of them. She then chased and chased after him, making him into her master. Despite there being a hierarchy, Violet was the one who had a grip over his life.

One would understand, after spending time with the girl, that this was a necessity for her. She was always like that, ever since the island only the two of them knew. Whenever anything happened, she would prioritize Dietfried. After all, even as he handed her over to Gilbert, she had not resisted.

If anything could be changed, that was the moment.

The two who never mingled with each other met again countless times in a parallel line. On such occasions, they would become unable to make a move due to shouldering the truth of rejection and of the things they had done, thus running away.

——Gilbert.

What did the person who brought the two together, whom they loved most, thought of that?

“You... I...”

——If I could change for Gilbert...

“Captain...?”

——If I could change, right here and now, for your sake...

Would it be easier for him to breathe?

Just as Dietfried was about to make a bitter decision...

“GYAAAAAAAAAH—AAAAAAH—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

...an incident occurred.

   It was clearly not a hasty crime. The scream of Artemisia, the owner, echoed, and by the time that Dietfried and Violet had bolted from the quiet hall where there was just the two of them, robbers were already thrusting their weapons mostly at vulnerable women and children, having them on their knees. The course of action was far too swift.

Wide-eyed, Violet swung back her trolley bag and was about to throw it at them, yet Dietfried stopped her.

“Are you stupid?! Those aren’t all adults that can run...!”

Among the hostages, there was also a little girl held under someone’s arms, looking like she did not understand the situation.

“I will save them as fast as possible and take control of the rest.”

“They’ve got guns; what’re you gonna do if they hit someone else with a warning shot?! There’s the other artworks too... This ain’t a stage for a tactless bastard like you to brawl! Just stay put for now!”

“But, Captain—”

“Stay put!”

While the two were trying to push past each other, the robbers took notice of them.

In the main hall, perhaps in order to bind people up through fear, the men were being beaten without exception, being put on their knees over the floor. Seeing that, the women naturally sat down, trembling, and began to cry.

While screams were resounding like music, one of the robbers headed towards the duo. “So there were still weeds growing here?” was the look in his eyes as he swung his firearm emotionlessly.

Dietfried would have managed to avoid it. He had done it several times until now. He could do it as easily as floating on water. If he could catch the man’s gun with one hand and pulled it just like that, he was able to picture the opponent falling over as a reaction. Once he stole the gun, he could shoot each member of the robber gang one by one in the head. And then, there would be a gunfight. He would have done that if he were alone. Yes, if he were alone.

——Why now of all times?

There was nothing more humiliating than a punch that one had to resign oneself into receiving. But he had things he had to protect above his own dignity. Thus, he accepted the attack without dodging. If he were to start a scuffle amidst the current situation, he did not think that all of the people who had become hostages would remain unharmed. He would aim for a chance. That was what he should do. He made such decision not only for his own welfare but also for that of other people.

However, the automatic assassination doll made a completely different one. When her eyes glinted like that, she quite literally moved on automatic. She came forward to take his place. In that instant, the face of Dietfried’s younger brother was the only thing crossing his mind.

——Gil.

It was almost as if he had readied himself to do it. That was how quickly his arm reached out. He forcefully embraced Violet and turned his back towards the robber. A violent hit struck him from head to back. He could hear Violet’s breath quietly catching while holding her in his arms.

And such was how they had arrived to the present.

   Dietfried did not think that his decision to suppress Violet was a mistake. He was aware that she was the woman who had fought by herself against terrorists inside an exploding train, but it would be a problem if she did something of the sort in the Artemisia Gallery.

Right now, he felt like a pet owner containing the rampage of his mad dog.

As for the mad dog herself, she had grown quiet ever since Dietfried had been hit, as if her functions were gone. Dietfried had pushed away the hands that had attempted to give him first aid. Any false moves and the robbers might beat him again.

She, who always took upon herself to protect, wound up being protected. On top of that, she had let the other be injured. This must have caused her to fall into despondency, enough to result in service outage. However, with time, she had rebooted and was rousing herself up once more to get through this situation.

“I understand that I should refrain from the use of force in an art gallery. But should we not place human lives above the artworks?”

——Whose fault do you think it is that I got hit on the back of my head?

Because she was saying the most obvious thing with the most serious face, Dietfried grabbed the collar where her brooch resided, taking the brooch along, without thinking. The thread that fastened the ribbon-tie dress’s button let out a screech. It was not the kind of deed that a gentleman would do to a lady. But Dietfried did not loosen the strength that he put into his grip.

“You... Do you still need disciplining from me?” he said, voice filled with rage, close enough for their faces to touch. “Think of this as a place that can hardly compare to any other... This thing’s pretty important for you, isn’t it?”

After blinking with a snap, she opened her mouth once, then closed it.

Once Dietfried’s hand let go of her, she grasped the brooch as if to protect it. She was more concerned about the brooch than the crumpled bust of her dress. She stroked it over and over, making sure that it had not been damaged.

Finally, she whispered in a dazed state, “I understand.”

“As if an idiot could,” Dietfried said with a snort, yet the other was a poker-faced Auto-Memories Doll. No matter how much he hurt her, it would have no effect. That was what Dietfried had thought.

“I understood completely. I will avoid combat here as much as possible.” Alas, her voice sounded a little faint.

Dietfried stared at Violet from the corners of his eyes. The brooch was indeed important to her. She was holding it down with both hands. She did not want anyone to touch it – that was what she was indicating. The two of them were speaking in an awfully low tone, but her timbre just now was as thin as the cry of a mosquito.

Dietfried said with a somewhat softer voice, “Good that you get it. I’m indebted to the owner of this gallery. I’m gonna choose the best I can for her sake too.”

“All right.”

“Human lives are the priority, of course. But we’re not gonna fight in a stupid way.”

Like a child, Violet nodded repeatedly.

“You’ve only ever been doing body guarding, murders and military action, and that’s why you don’t understand. In the sea... In fleet battles, we fight to protect. Our way of thinking is different from those who fight to conquer.”

“To protect...”

“If you can’t put brakes on them at sea, the enemies go to land. The reason why Leidenschaftlich is called a military nation ain’t just the army’s achievement. I’ve... never taught you how to fight at sea, huh... For now, forget the method of destroying and taking control of everything. Learn from my ways.”

“Understood.”

Dietfried was inwardly surprised at the obedient reply. Rather, even more than this, he was surprised that he and the “beast” were able to have mutual comprehension.

When she was in his hands, this beautiful Auto-Memories Doll was a “wild beast” that did not know how to speak, as well as a tool. An incontrollable beast, to boot.

“Still, if that is how it is, please do not forget that your wellbeing is my top priority all the more. I shall fight to protect you, Captain. Please do not think of protecting me for Lord Gilbert’s sake. If necessity arises, I will not might if you use me as a shield. I can be replaced, but there is no substitute for you.”

If, at that time...

“This is also linked to protecting Lord Gilbert.”

...in that place...

“Bye, Monster. This guy’s your next master.”

...he had educated and guided her instead of letting her go, would she have grown up the same way?

“Shut up.”

Would she have thought like that?

“Shut up, Monster.”

He had never even thought about it.

Another side of him immediately answered “no” to the self-questioning. Surely, a Violet Evergarden raised by Dietfried Bougainvillea would not have turned out like this. He might have at least taught her how to talk. They would have trouble communicating otherwise. He would have probably given her clothes and personal belongings for daily life. Bringing her along when walking around would look bad for him.

However, when it came to whether or not he would have bestowed this girl with something that would be enveloped in her hands with utmost zeal...

——I see; so it’s the same color as Gilbert’s eyes. That brooch.

...he would undeniably have not.

——Come to think of it, she was always following me around from behind ‘cause she hated being alone.

If there was anything he could have done for her, it was to at least fill up a coffin with flowers and leave it available for her. He did not intend for anything to happen, but he might have done that much. After all, if Violet had stayed beside Dietfried Bougainvillea, she would have surely died before him, for his sake.

“We’re gonna do an act.”

——Aah, Gilbert.

“An act?”

——I’m always late to realize how great you are.

“That’s right. You’re the one who suggested it, so I’m gonna make you into a decoy.”

——You’ve made that filthy beast into this.

“Understood.”

——You were able to change her like this.

“First, take this... It’s late for that, but... you got any questions about a joint struggle with me?”

As Dietfried asked, Violet responded with her neck tilted, “Why...? I do not.”

For whatever reason, his former weapon would show scraps of emotion only at times like these. Just innocently, unaware that it was merciless of her.

“Please use me correctly, Captain.” She smiled.

   Why had robbers attacked the Artemisia Gallery?

There was a certain amount of history that led to such violence unfolding amidst everyday life. Firstly, it would be preferable to start with the time when a turning point happened in the life of the robbery’s main offender, but that would be rewinding too far. On to a brief explanation.

This case was a crime committed by a habitual criminal.

There were various reasons for people to rob, yet the advantage was but one. Earning compensation within a short period. Good citizens would be paid for their work, but thieves did not share this mentality. People received rewards through serving others. In order to gather a large sum, a long time and effort were necessary. Thieves abdicated from this. To achieve success, no matter in what land, a person had to be equipped with skills as a rule of thumb.

If one could stop after doing it once, why did they do it countless times? There were people here and there who thought this about criminals. It was because, if they had succeeded once, they could do it again. They were instantly able to attain things that they would have to spend a long time out of their lives to earn. This was the arrival of an opportunity to do that.

Once one got used to it, identifying opportunities was surprisingly easy.

Supposing that there was someone who excelled at predicting people’s thoughts. The other person’s personality would be determined by the movements of their eyes, the way they breathed, their voice tone, the relationships of power in their background, their social position and other such things, so one would be able to deduce what kind of conduct should be taken in order to derive the “correct answer”. It seemed like magic at first glance, but it was no more than the result of someone continuously keeping watch on another person for many years.

Since this was a strategy against individual matches, the robbers needed a slightly better ability to grasp the environment. As they were walking around the city, they incidentally found out that a new gallery was going to open. The opening date was also announced. It appeared that there would be an event only for those concerned on the day before.

No matter the establishment, dealing flawlessly with the inauguration of a new shop was difficult. Even if there were people in it who already had experience working in a gallery, but the use of their abilities to have control over such a situation and proceed with it smoothly was different. Employees would be in quite a panic on the day. If it was a members-only celebration day, there was no mistaking that the original state of the security that should be guarding the gallery would be insufficient.

And so, the robbers had thought, “Aah, if you poke this place, it’ll surely crumble down.”

They did not have any grudges in particular. They had simply judged that they could do it, thus undergoing the assault. The truth was merely that the Artemisia Gallery had been unlucky.

How many hardships the owner had gone through until she was able to open the gallery, had she lived her life bowing her head to other people? How many artists were looking forward to seeing their work exhibited in the gallery? The feelings of such people could be trampled miserably at times.

Not that many people paid any mind to weeds when walking. That was all. Except, this time, the Artemisia Gallery had been lucky about just one thing.

“No good... Hum, excuse me...! She suddenly...!”

A naval captain who loved art...

“Ugh...”

...and the woman who used to be called Leidenschaftlich’s War Maiden were amongst the hostages.

The man who had caused a commotion and pleaded to one of the robbers in a panic raised both of his hands as a display of no resistance. He was a long-haired a man. His slightly curvy dark hair went past his shoulders. Right next to him was a woman holding her stomach and trembling.

“What?”

A few armed men gathered around them.

“It seems her stomach hurts.”

“Just a stomach ache? Leave it alone.”

“You’re telling us to let her go to the bathroom? We still gotta watch these people. Besides, she’s a woman. If someone takes her to the toilet... Well, how much stuff did we get?”

“We’ve piled most of the paintings in the carrier, but there’s still the ornaments. It’s still gonna take a while.”

The robbers had a choice. The option to either silently let her suffer or kindly take her to the restroom. Beating only the men was likely one of their policies. They did not hesitate to make use of violence when needed, but when it was not, it was best to have as least animosity as possible in order to get through with things unobtrusively and quickly take the treasure. It seemed gentlemanly but was a self-righteous thinking.

“What do we do? The Head is...”

“The Head got in the car first. As if we can ask him stuff like this every single time it happens.”

“Head” probably referred to the member worthy of being their chief.

As the quiet exchanges continued in front of the agonizing woman, she finally lay down on the floor while still holding onto her stomach. The man who had appealed about her bad condition shook her shoulders, telling her to “hang in there”.

As if she had received a signal, the woman raised her face slowly. Her gemstone-like blue eyes were visible through the gaps between her disheveled golden hair. She was covering her mouth, perhaps trying not to vomit. Even so, it was easy to tell that the woman’s looks were remarkably good.

“It’s gonna take a while, huh. Besides, we’re gonna need the women later.”

Her eyes locked with one of robber’s as though sucking him in. One would not understand the destructive power that having this woman look up at them from their feet with her eyes wet had, unless they witnessed it themselves.

“Then, I guess it’s okay.”

From the vulgar smile of the man who had said so, one could presume what his intentions were. As the woman was covering her mouth, the robber instructed her to stand up, pointing his gun at her, and then took her to the restroom.

After that, the woman and the robber did not return for a while. Since there were no other people who mustered out the courage to say that they wanted to use the toilet, the period of their absence passed as if it were natural. In the meantime, the gallery’s exhibits were being carried one after another to cars with roof racks parked outside the establishment. The robbers were dressed as employees who worked with the transportation of goods, so even those walking down the street did not think there was anything strange about that work scene.

Once they had finished relocating most of the merchandises, one of the cars left the gallery. The other one that remained parked was meant for the getaway of those who were keeping watch. With the artworks that had been collected for the sake of this day snatched away down to the last one, the gallery was bare. The owner, Artemisia, had all the while been suppressing her cries and shedding tears.

Apparently, those thieves were quite the habitual criminals. They had threatened everyone with armed force upon entering the establishment, robbing people of any resistance, but after that, as long as everyone stayed still, they would do nothing but coldly keep control of the hostages, not even raising their voices. If people did as told, they would not lose their lives. That hope made the hostages obedient. Even though they were robbers, this seamless way of dealing with people was like that of artisans. They did not think of humans as humans.

“Excuse me; I just... want to lend her a handkerchief. That’s all. The sleeves of her clothes are already soaked with tears. Can’t you allow just this much?”

Hearing a voice from the back, Artemisia turned around. It came from one of the artists that she had invited over for today, whom she had known for quite some time. She was shaken by a sense of guilt that she had done something terrible to him as well.

Their first meeting had started at a certain recreational facility, when she peeked from behind while he was painting a landscape. She did not know his occupation, but they kept in touch and she had him show her his art. It seemed he had always been drawing as a hobby. He told her that even most of the people who were close to him did not know he painted, and that he had truly only been doing it for himself.

The busy man had weaved his way through spare time and the work he brought had swayed Artemisia’s senses. At first, he had hesitated at her request to put it on display, but then smiled like a boy and gave her his ready consent, looking happy.

——Aah, God. Please give it back. Please give that fun time back to everyone.

Artemisia was upset and vexed at the fact that the artworks were being stolen, but more than anything, it felt like the regret towards everyone who had been looking forward to this day would split her chest open.

“Hey, he told you to use this.”

He had lent a handkerchief to Artemisia through one of the robbers. Artemisia wiped her tears and managed to lock eyes with him somehow. She then mouthed a “thank you” to him without letting out her voice.

The man smiled. But it was not the smile that Artemisia knew. He was different when he talked about art. She had shivers before she could think. His eyes were not smiling.

“                              .”

The man said something to Artemisia. As he had only moved his lips, Artemisia could not tell whether she had been able to read what he tried to convey. She could not, but most likely, he had said:

“It’ll be over soon.”

Eventually, the robbers started to create an atmosphere of evacuation at last.

“Let’s take one person with us until we leave the harbor. Can be a woman or kid. Which do we choose?”

“Woman it is.”

“That guy was playing around with the woman we were planning to use for that, wasn’t he? What happened to him?”

Assuming that they would finally be freed, the hostages started fidgeting. They had faced a disaster and the artworks that they had dedicated their lives to making had been stolen. This joyful day had been repainted into despair. But they were alive. That was the one and only bright side of today. They would not be able to maintain their rationality unless they comforted themselves with that. At any rate, they wanted to hurry and be liberated.

Amongst them, there was a man who merely observed the robbers’ movements in silence all the while. It was the man who had been caring for a woman that had a stomachache, looking worried. Once the woman had been taken to the restroom, he became expressionless, as if he had lost interest in everything. Occasionally, there were moments when he even yawned in secret, as if he had grown sleepy.

“Go call him. We could use that woman as hostage. She’s young, so she can come back walking if we throw her away on the street.”

Hearing these words, the man let out his voice and laughed. By the looks of it, he had not intended to laugh, but wound up doing so. He put a hand to his mouth, but then shrugged and let the robbers see it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of you. But trying to rape that thing, huh? No matter how many lives you have, it wouldn’t be enough.”

“Hey, what’s with you...? Got a complaint or something...?”

The man kept laughing, as though to say that the robbers’ threatening figures were even more comical. With her eyes, the owner, Artemisia, begged the man provoking the robbers to restrain himself, for she could not afford to lose not only the artworks that she had collected but also a guest that she had invited, yet the man closed one eye at that and replied, “Artemisia, it’s okay.”

No one in this place knew his social status. Or his history.

In the past, Dietfried Bougainvillea used to wield a weapon that could become the world’s best. It was now away from his grasp, but it was not as if their master-servant connection had been completely severed. The beast had a high level of loyalty, so although they had met by chance after a long time, her heart recognized it. That he was the one she had been following in the past – someone worth being served by her. Therefore, the beast would attend him to exhaustion.

Only a limited number of people could handle the beast. The feeling that she had returned to his hands for now was somewhat strange.

“She runs quick.”

“Ha?”

“That’s why it’s the end for you guys. My bad.”

“Hey, shut this dude up.”

As Dietfried had suddenly started talking, the robbers naturally had a doubtful reaction.

“She’s as fast as a deer. And this is the city’s main street, so there are hotels nearby.”

“So, what’re you saying?”

“I left my bodyguards behind to come here today. They’re probably drinking at their room’s bar. There’re also guys among them who know that thing from the time when she was still by my side. I left my hair tie with her, so she should be able to convince them with that. I could predict that you’d take the things you stole to the port. It’s pretty difficult to get away from pursuers on land when you make such a mess in the center of this city. It’s harder to be tracked using the sea route than the land route, right? But the sea route doesn’t work against me. It looks like one vehicle left a while ago, but it’s over by the point they reach the port. You’ll probably go outside now, but if you’re thinking about taking someone along as a hostage, you’d better drop it. Many of my subordinates are hot-blooded. If you rouse them up like that, they’ll probably get too excited. If that happens, you’re the ones who’ll be getting the short end of the stick. No matter how many dead bodies fall down, we can deal with it all we want in the aftermath. We’ll need to get the stories straight, but today’s hostages will surely choose to cooperate with me. Having people trample on the proof of a life that you’ve lived with all your might is painful for anyone.”

The eloquent man did not run out of breath even when speaking nonstop in such a situation. However, this majestic aspect of him was reflected in others’ eyes as dreadful and similar to madness.

The robbers abruptly realized that all the hostages were looking far behind them. They felt that there was something behind them. It was like a ghost, hiding even its flame of life, simply waiting for the orders of its lord.

Outside the windows of the gallery, they could hear the sounds of someone fighting from around the area where the car was parked. Simultaneously, they could hear a faint breathing just behind them.

The respiration of a woman who was out of breath from running loomed over their ears.

“Do it, Violet.” Dietfried raised his thumb and made a swift throat-cutting gesture.

While watching his doll render the robbers unconscious with a strength as overwhelming as a monster eating people, Dietfried reminisced to the past.

——Everything goes around.

He recalled the time when the two of them were stuck in that isolated island.

The beast had been scared when the rescue fleet arrived. So had Dietfried. He would not be able to bear it if more of his comrades were murdered. Hence, he had taken the beast’s hand and guided her to the outside world. In his perception, it was the same as taking the reins.

There were no reins anymore now. No need for him to pull her by the hand when walking, either. There was nothing between them.

Not love, passion, attachment, desire, anything.

“Captain.”

There was nothing, but one thing was for certain.

“Captain Bougainvillea.”

If he called for her, this Auto-Memories Doll would most likely go to the ends of the world to save him. That was her nature.

“I have just returned. Are you unharmed?”

At that moment, the beast was well aware that he had called her name for the very first time. Her eyes were crinkling.

“Yeah.”

Just this much compensation was enough to make the beast smile.

   After a little while passed, Leidenschaftlich was embraced by the gentleness of the night.

Summer constellations were decorating the jet-black sky. Just as sunny as it was during daytime, the night sky was twinkling so brightly this evening that it could be called a banquet of stars. The day was about to end in Leidenschaftlich. Today was filled with chaos ever since morning.

While being observed by gathered-up onlookers, the arrest drama that had unfolded in front of the Artemisia Gallery was already coming to a conclusion, its many procedures and processing passed over to the military police. Seeing the stolen artworks safely re-delivered to Artemisia, Dietfried took a breather. His gaze then fleetingly drifted to the side. A dirtied ceramic doll was standing there. A woman beautiful enough to look like such, who shone amidst the night, was standing there. He had to say something to her. As one would expect, he should do that at least now. But he could not think of anything.

——“You did well”. “That wasn’t too bad”. “Good work”. “I commend you”... Which one?

Inside his head, words were being conceived and then disappearing. Just like the dreams that the sleeping children all around Leidenschaftlich were surely seeing right now. They were born and then vanished.

At last, he attempted to open his mouth, “Aren’t you cold?”

“It is summer, after all.”

And ended up talking to her like a man who was unused to inviting women out.

Violet Evergarden, who had been fighting reasonably and in order to protect, was still by Dietfried’s side. It was fitting to say that she had been today’s most meritorious person. The one who had come up with the idea of the arrest operation was Dietfried, but the one who had done all the work for it was Violet.

First, she had put up the woman-with-a-stomachache act and gone with one of the robbers to the restroom. She had then quietly strangled the neck of the man who had reached a hand to her shoulder with her mechanical prosthetic arms, making him pass out.

She had broken out and escaped through the restroom’s window. Rather than going to the military police, she had gone to the hotel that Dietfried instructed her to and notified the naval soldiers, who were enjoying cigarettes and drinks in a room on the top floor, of the circumstances. One of the soldiers, who happened to know her, had been frightened at first, but upon seeing that she had been entrusted with Dietfried’s ribbon, his facial expression changed and he contacted the military police, then informed the port’s security to reinforce their inspections.

Without waiting for them to get ready, she had immediately run back to the Artemisia Gallery and infiltrated it through the same route. A few of the robbers, who had the bad luck of spotting her, fell to the ground with one kick or punch to the abdomen, and so, she had finally returned. As Violet stood behind the remaining robbers while catching her breath, the hostages stared as if she were their safety, but Dietfried was sneering as he looked at her.

Just as ordered, she had saved Dietfried without damaging a single artwork.

“About what happened...”

“It will probably be best not to tell Lord Gilbert. He would worry.”

Upon seeing the last artwork be brought in, Violet took the trolley bag that lay by her feet. She likely intended to go home by herself.

After making her do so much, something similar to guilt was now sprouting within Dietfried. He wound up acknowledging that she, too, was important to someone. That was what he thought after the battle, when he saw Violet stroking her emerald brooch as if to confirm that it was there.

Even though she used to be a wild beast whom no one would mourn if she died.

——Aah, that’s an excuse. It’ll be nothing but an excuse. If so, then I don’t wanna say it.

Back then, when she was by Dietfried’s side, every single day was filled with madness on all accounts. They used to roam around battlefields, fighting from dawn to dusk, growing too accustomed to violence. The war then ended, peace had returned, and he realized that an era in which he could even make art was arriving. That those times were abnormal and the way he felt now was the default.

“I’ll take you home.”

“No need. Your escorts must be waiting, so please, feel free to take your leave, Captain.”

“It’s fine; just this time. I’ll take you home.”

“No need.”

“I’ll take you. Listen up, this is an order.”

“I cannot accept your command.”

“You little... You were taking action like I instructed you to just a while ago.”

“Because it was a state of emergency... Besides, Captain Dietfried, it would be reasonable if I were to take you home, but the opposite is illogical.”

“What’re you talking about? You’re a woman, aren’t you?”

“A woman”. Finding himself asserting this with his own mouth, Dietfried regretted it even more.

The corner of Violet’s lips had a cut and blood was coming out of it. Her ribbon-tie dress was drenched in sweat. Even those who did not sweat much would be like this after such a huge scuffle during summertime.

“I’m calling a carriage. It’s all right; just wait right there. I’ll see you off until you get inside the Evergarden house. And then it’s goodbye. We’ll never see each other again. No matter what you and Gil become, we’ll never see each other again.”

What he had done today to this woman, who had become fully able to accept someone’s love, was not something that a son of the Bougainvillea should ever do to a lady.

After they had hopped into the carriage, a moment of silence went on for a while.

——Is it okay for her to keep such an open secret even though those two are a couple?

Dietfried found himself accidentally concerned about his younger brother’s love life. After all, this situation might be a betrayal to his dearest brother. Gilbert had completely forgiven Dietfried. For pushing the headship succession onto him. For not having any consideration for their family. For forcing an indescribable wild beast onto him. He had forgiven everything.

Thinking back, the only time that he attempted to push Dietfried away, saying he would not forgive him, had been when Dietfried offered Violet to him. He had called it “human trafficking”. Told Dietfried not to be violent with a child.

Most likely, those two were each other’s only exception from the very beginning. There was probably no pardoning what Dietfried had done to Violet today. Gilbert would forgive most things. Save for matters related to the one and only thing that was most important to him. Being hated by a loved one. This could cast a shadow over anyone’s heart, regardless of how old they were.

“It is all right.” The voice that cut through the silence was thrown at him as if to soothe him down. The words sounded almost as if she had perceived Dietfried’s uneasiness. “If, by any chance... word ends up reaching him through someone else about this case, I will definitely defend you, Captain Dietfried.”

“‘Defend’, you say?”

“To tell the truth, I often get involved in large-scale incidents without Major knowing. But I return without fail. To Leidenschaftlich. I will return today as well. Therefore, we are all right.”

“What do you do out there?”

“We were separated for much too long. Therefore, we have many moments that the other does not know about in the first place. Perhaps even now, too. I have work to do and so does he. We have limited time to see each other. However, I will definitely always return to Major. He knows this as well. Even when we are apart, that person is the only one who occupies my mind. I am not sure if I convey it to him properly, but that is how it is.”

Her statements were something that would normally make him burst into laughter, but Dietfried was unable to do so.

——When did you become like that?

Dietfried hated Violet. Several factors had induced his emotions to it.

——Now you can correspond to someone’s love.

He saw himself overlap with her. Her subservience to adults and the way that she herself wanted it disgusted him. He despised the wild beast that did not yearn for freedom. Despised the fact that she had been trained by someone to be this way. Despised everything. To begin with, Dietfried did not have many things that he liked.

Even the number of people who could become kind had a limit.

The truth was that, even if he wanted to be kind, it was no longer possible. He had prayed to God for it countless times in the past. However, unable to achieve this, a man named Dietfried Bougainvillea existed.

——O God, I want to, he begged a certain Someone in his mind for the first in a long time. Perhaps since his childhood.

Still, this sort of being did not give any reply to calls. Even now, he had no idea if his plea had reached Him. It was certainly impossible. His and Violet’s stars were in a position that would not radically change.

Nevertheless, for some reason, he had the overwhelming desire to ask someone for forgiveness today.

——I wanna go back.

Not even he knew where to.

——Hurry and be over, this day, today and the time I have to spend with her.

He was not annoyed.

——O God, I want to...

But painfully miserable.

“Captain.”

The carriage ran amongst trees dyed in the darkness of the night. A cool voice echoed amidst them.

Violet was looking at the scenery outside. She was observing the moon, which chased after them, no matter how far, far apart they were.

The moon was something that would continue to exist forever. Unlike stories. Regardless of whether Dietfried concerned himself with it, everything about his story would come to a closing one day as well. Demise would arrive even to the things that he did not wish to ever be over. Even the feelings he had now would end.

“How was I today?”

“What?”

“Did my work earn your satisfaction today?”

Dietfried could not read the intentions behind Violet’s question at all. She was someone whose emotions he could not read in the first place, but it was even harder to understand the meaning of that sentence.

“What do you want to say?”

Silence.

“Hey, just say it straight. Don’t be dodgy with me.”

“All right,” the cool voice entered his ears once more. Such coldness resembled the night, but it never left his ears, easy as it was to catch.

Violet turned her neck and cast her gaze at him. Slowly, blue and green eyes blended with each other.

“I...”

Bathed in moonlight, she was simply, purely beautiful, enough to take Dietfried’s breath away.

“When I was with you, Lord Dietfried, my work was never satisfactory. Now that I became an adult, have I finally been able to repay my debt... with my work?”

“What d’you mean by ‘debt’?”

His voice was hoarse. He suddenly felt as if this icy woman had robbed his entire body of its heat. The inside of his mouth was extremely dry.

“I mean everything. It all started when you brought me from that island. I am the way I am now because you entrusted me to Ma... to Lord Gilbert.”

“If you’d stayed with me, probably nothing good would’ve happened.”

“How would I be if I had continued to serve you?”

These words became a bullet and pierced Dietfried’s heart. He felt as if his breathing would stop at the unexpected question. Things had been like that since the distant past. Dietfried would reconfirm time and time again that she was a woman who could have become a lethal weapon for him.

“So you also imagine a hypothesis... of ‘what if’,” her exquisitely cold voice rang within the darkness. Upon being asked, “You too?”, Violet nodded.

That was his line, Dietfried thought, but Violet then sent his gemstone eyes a dream-like gaze. His existence might be devoid of realism to her.

Violet began to whisper. If only she had disobeyed that order back then. If only she had rushed to him a step faster at that time.

“Back then, if”. “Back then, if”. “Back then, if”.

She could not bring myself not to think that, if only she had had this extra step, he would not have lost that emerald eye.

“Besides, I wonder... if I had managed to protect him back then...”

She had to let go of her most beloved lord’s hand and was entrusted to someone else as if she had been thrown away.

“...I would not have had to spend that time away from Major.”

Thinking back, she had always been abandoned and then picked up by somebody. She should have been used to it. That was the star she had been born under.

She was originally a foreign body to this world and was supposed to have been eliminated. Her destiny had also flowed in this way. The reason why Violet had rebelled against her sectioned path, despite having been tamely submitting herself to it, was that the other was special.

——I also threw her away.

He had thrown his home away. Thrown away his little brother, who cried in protest. And thrown away this beast.

“I also wonder what would have happened if you had not left me with Major.”

This woman.

“But all of these are akin to dreams, crossing my mind and fading away. After passing through countless ‘if’s, I...”

He had pushed this woman onto his brother and forsaken her. Looking at her made him sick. He was also scared of her. Most importantly, he would have stopped being himself. This terrified him.

“And now, I have become an Auto-Memories Doll and am spending a night with you.”

This woman possessed an element that transmuted people.

“Y’know, you’ll be alone one day. You’re the one who’s got the longer lifespan, aren’t you?”

Violet closed her eyes at those words. If she had pictured numerous “if”s, this would obviously come to mind as well.

“I do not know.”

“If that happens, what’re you gonna do?”

“I do not know. But are you not the same as me when it comes to this? You love him, right?”

“I’m... I’m the older one. I’ll be gone sooner.”

“No one knows about that. But... if, one day... I do become alone... if I am left living by myself... my order will still be valid. I will probably live on.”

If she ended up living by herself, this supposition was the cruelest of things to the beast. Just what did he want to do by making her say this now?

Thinking back, ever since they had first met, he had not known how to deal with her. Should he have protected her? Killed her? Protected? Killed? Or perhaps...

“That is why I write letters every day. Even if they do not reach him, I write letters to Major every single day.”

Silence.

“Captain, what will you do?”

“Me, huh? I... let’s see. Paint, I guess.”

“A painting or Major?”

“That’s right.”

“May I go see it?”

To Dietfried Bougainvillea, this wild beast was both a woman and a monster from the very beginning. She was now as far-off as a dream.

“You’re the only one of my relatives who knows I paint. Do whatever you want.”

   ——O God, I want to be a good person.

[sokkastyles]

So a while ago @tea-and-la​ asked me to elaborate on something I said about Katara and Iroh being parallels with respect to their relationship with Aang and Zuko, respectively. And in order to really analyze this, I think I would have to look at the series as a whole, because I suspect that it’s a parallel that runs through most of the series, until season three where I think the writers drop the ball on Aang’s development, and part of that has to do with his relationship to Katara. But for now I just want to focus on one episode, and that’s “The Southern Air Temple.”

The A plot sees Aang, Katara, and Sokka journey to the titular temple and Aang’s home. Aang is excited, but Katara is wary, warning Aang that things have changed in the past hundred years that he’s been frozen in the iceberg.

In the B plot, we have Iroh and Zuko docking to repair their ship after the encounter with Aang and co., and running into Zhao, who Zuko immediately shows his dislike for. Zuko also doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s found the Avatar after a hundred years.

Juxtaposing these two storylines is smart from a world-building and character-building standpoint. We get a short history lesson on the past hundred years and how things have changed, from the perspective of both the other nations and within the Fire Nation itself. The storyline also links these two parallel narratives together after the initial encounter between Aang and Zuko, having them diverge but both explore similar thematic elements, both following the threads of the hundred year war and Aang’s disappearance, and how both of those things have affected the world.

In the A plot, Katara plays the role of a mentor/guide to Aang, ushering him into a world with which he is unfamiliar. She warns him that things may not be as he remembers, and of the brutality of the Fire Nation, to which Aang reacts with disbelief.

Katara: [Uneasily.] Aang, before we get to the temple, I want to talk to you about the airbenders.

Aang: [Cheerfully.] What about 'em?

Katara: Well, I just want you to be prepared for what you might see. The Fire Nation is ruthless. [Sadly.] They killed my mother, and they could have done the same to your people.

Aang: [Ponders over her words for a bit. Hopefully.] Just because no one has seen an airbender, doesn't mean the Fire Nation killed them all. They probably escaped!

Katara: [Places one hand on Aang's shoulder.] I know it's hard to accept.

Aang: [Cheerfully, as Katara moves her hand back to her side.] You don't understand, Katara. The only way to get to an airbender temple is on a flying bison, and I doubt the Fire Nation has any flying bison! Right, Appa?

It’s understandable that Aang would have a hard time admitting what we the audience already know. Having to process the grief of losing your entire people after the shock of being cryo-frozen for a hundred years would be too much for an adult. Aang loves his people and so of course doesn’t believe that they couldn’t have escaped. But Katara, who has had to process the grief of losing a loved one, knows what the Fire Nation is capable of.

In Zuko and Iroh’s plotline, Iroh tries to deescalate things between Zuko and Zhao. The scene gets across Zuko’s hot-headedness, but if we look closer we can see that Zhao comes across as petty for picking a fight with a banished teenager and trying to rub his disgrace in his nose, and Zuko is desperately trying to deny the truth of Zhao’s words, that his father really doesn’t care about him. Iroh warns Zuko about dueling with Zhao:

Iroh: [Worried.] Prince Zuko, have you forgotten what happened last time you dueled a master?

Zuko: [Darkly.] I will never forget.

Both Aang and Zuko impulsively rush into situations that their respective mentor figures try to protect them from, and deny the truth of the source of their trauma. Both Katara and Iroh are also put in the role of caretaker, and try to protect their respective charges, and both have that position threatened in this episode.

Sokka: You know, you can't protect him forever.

-

Zhao: It's a shame your father won't be here to watch me humiliate you. I guess your uncle will do.

 Finally, both Aang and Zuko are violently forced to come face to face with their trauma. Aang by finding Gyatso’s skeleton and Zuko by facing a second agni kai against Zhao.

Aang, upon realizing the truth of the Air Nomad genocide, goes into the Avatar State, and is cooled down by Katara.

Zuko has the chance to scar Zhao in a repeat of what was done to him, but doesn’t. Zhao attacks Zuko once his back is turned, and Zuko reacts in rage, but is stopped by Iroh.

The episode ends with Katara reaffirming that Aang still has a family, with a final shot of Aang looking wistfully back at the home that he has lost. Which is one of my favorite shots in the series. Dang, this show has some beautiful visuals.

And Zuko and Iroh walking away, with Iroh affirming to Zuko that honor is not something that can be arbitrarily given or taken away, but gained by doing the right thing.

If you’ve read some of my other meta, you might have guessed where I’m going with this, and this is the part where I become critical of the writing, as I do believe the parallels between Zuko’s anger, which he is forced to confront and overcome throughout his arc, and Aang learning to control the Avatar State were initially intentional, and that this is a set up for Aang to master the Avatar State by mastering his own fear and rage, the way Zuko does. They even both have a mystical literal manifestation of that anger, Aang’s being the Avatar State and Zuko’s being his rage-fueled firebending. I think there are several other episodes where I would point to that being the case, and that set up was created as early as this, the third episode of season one. 

I also think that one of the key steps to mastering it is getting rid of the attachment to and reliance on the caretaker figure. Zuko had to stop relying on Iroh to get him out of things and take responsibility for his own actions. Aang continues to rely on Katara and, I would argue, takes advantage of her quite a bit, and I think the show could have done something great with giving Aang and Katara an arc similar to Zuko and Iroh’s, possibly facing a physical separation for a while before coming together with a greater understanding of and love for each other. It seems like the seeds for that were even sown in season three, then dropped in favor of a dramatic balcony kiss with nothing but negative build-up leading up to it. And Katara is the one who suffers the most for it because she’s expected to be both Aang’s caretaker and his love interest.

[whitehotharlots]

The point is control

Whenever we think or talk about censorship, we usually conceptualize it as certain types of speech being somehow disallowed: maybe (rarely) it's made formally illegal by the government, maybe it's banned in certain venues, maybe the FCC will fine you if you broadcast it, maybe your boss will fire you if she learns of it, maybe your friends will stop talking to you if they see what you've written, etc. etc. 

This understanding engenders a lot of mostly worthless discussion precisely because it's so broad. Pedants--usually arguing in favor of banning a certain work or idea--will often argue that speech protections only apply to direct, government bans. These bans, when they exist, are fairly narrow and apply only to those rare speech acts in which other people are put in danger by speech (yelling the N-word in a crowded theater, for example). This pedantry isn't correct even within its own terms, however, because plenty of people get in trouble for making threats. The FBI has an entire entrapment program dedicated to getting mentally ill muslims and rednecks to post stuff like "Death 2 the Super bowl!!" on twitter, arresting them, and the doing a press conference about how they heroically saved the world from terrorism. 

Another, more recent pedant's trend is claiming that, actually, you do have freedom of speech; you just don't have freedom from the consequences of speech. This logic is eerily dictatorial and ignores the entire purpose of speech protections. Like, even in the history's most repressive regimes, people still technically had freedom of speech but not from consequences. Those leftist kids who the nazis beheaded for speaking out against the war were, by this logic, merely being held accountable. 

The two conceptualizations of censorship I described above are, 99% of the time, deployed by people who are arguing in favor of a certain act of censorship but trying to exempt themselves from the moral implications of doing so. Censorship is rad when they get to do it, but they realize such a solipsism seems kinda icky so they need to explain how, actually, they're not censoring anybody, what they're doing is an act of righteous silencing that's a totally different matter. Maybe they associate censorship with groups they don't like, such as nazis or religious zealots. Maybe they have a vague dedication toward Enlightenment principles and don't want to be regarded as incurious dullards. Most typically, they're just afraid of the axe slicing both ways, and they want to make sure that the precedent they're establishing for others will not be applied to themselves.

Anyone who engages with this honestly for more than a few minutes will realize that censorship is much more complicated, especially in regards to its informal and social dimensions. We can all agree that society simply would not function if everyone said whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. You might think your boss is a moron or your wife's dress doesn't look flattering, but you realize that such tidbits are probably best kept to yourself. 

Again, this is a two-way proposition that everyone is seeking to balance. Do you really want people to verbalize every time they dislike or disagree with you? I sure as hell don't. And so, as part of a social compact, we learn to self-censor. Sometimes this is to the detriment of ourselves and our communities. Most often, however, it's just a price we have to pay in order to keep things from collapsing. 

But as systems, large and small, grow increasingly more insane and untenable, so do the comportment standards of speech. The disconnect between America's reality and the image Americans have of themselves has never been more plainly obvious, and so striving for situational equanimity is no longer good enough. We can't just pretend cops aren't racist and the economy isn't run by venal retards or that the government places any value on the life of its citizens. There's too much evidence that contradicts all that, and the evidence is too omnipresent. There's too many damn internet videos, and only so many of them can be cast as Russian disinformation. So, sadly, we must abandon our old ways of communicating and embrace instead systems that are even more unstable, repressive, and insane than the ones that were previously in place.

Until very, very recently, nuance and big-picture, balanced thinking were considered signs of seriousness, if not intelligence. Such considerations were always exploited by shitheads to obfuscate things that otherwise would have seemed much less ambiguous, yes, but this fact alone does not mitigate the potential value of such an approach to understanding the world--especially since the stuff that's been offered up to replace it is, by every worthwhile metric, even worse.

So let's not pretend I'm Malcolm Gladwell or some similarly slimy asshole seeking to "both sides" a clearcut moral issue. Let's pretend I am me. Flash back to about a year ago, when there was real, widespread, and sustained support for police reform. Remember that? Seems like forever ago, man, but it was just last year... anyhow, now, remember what happened? Direct, issues-focused attempts to reform policing were knocked down. Blotted out. Instead, we were told two things: 1) we had to repeat the slogan ABOLISH THE POLICE, and 2) we had to say it was actually very good and beautiful and nonviolent and valid when rioters burned down poor neighborhoods.

Now, in a relatively healthy discourse, it might have been possible for someone to say something like "while I agree that American policing is heavily violent and racist and requires substantial reforms, I worry that taking such an absolutist point of demanding abolition and cheering on the destruction of city blocks will be a political non-starter." This statement would have been, in retrospect, 100000000% correct. But could you have said it, in any worthwhile manner? If you had said something along those lines, what would the fallout had been? Would you have lost friends? Your job? Would you have suffered something more minor, like getting yelled at, told your opinion did not matter? Would your acquaintances still now--a year later, after their political project has failed beyond all dispute--would they still defame you in "whisper networks," never quite articulating your verbal sins but nonetheless informing others that you are a dangerous and bad person because one time you tried to tell them how utterly fucking self-destructive they were being? It is undeniably clear that last year's most-elevated voices were demanding not reform but catharsis. I hope they really had fun watching those immigrant-owned bodegas burn down, because that’s it, that will forever be remembered as the most palpable and consequential aspect of their shitty, selfish movement. We ain't reforming shit. Instead, we gave everyone who's already in power a blank check to fortify that power to a degree you and I cannot fully fathom.

But, oh, these people knew what they were doing. They were good little boys and girls. They have been rewarded with near-total control of the national discourse, and they are all either too guilt-ridden or too stupid to realize how badly they played into the hands of the structures they were supposedly trying to upend.

And so left-liberalism is now controlled by people whose worldview is equal parts superficial and incoherent. This was the only possible outcome that would have let the system continue to sustain itself in light of such immense evidence of its unsustainability without resulting in reform, so that's what has happened.

But... okay, let's take a step back. Let's focus on what I wanted to talk about when I started this.

I came across a post today from a young man who claimed that his high school English department head had been removed from his position and had his tenure revoked for refusing to remove three books from classrooms. This was, of course, fallout from the ongoing debate about Critical Race Theory. Two of those books were Marjane Satropi's Persepolis and, oh boy, The Diary of Anne Frank. Fuck. Jesus christ, fuck.

Now, here's the thing... When Persepolis was named, I assumed the bannors were anti-CRT. The graphic novel does not deal with racism all that much, at least not as its discussed contemporarily, but it centers an Iranian girl protagonist and maybe that upset Republican types. But Anne Frank? I'm sorry, but the most likely censors there are liberal identiarians who believe that teaching her diary amounts to centering the suffering of a white woman instead of talking about the One Real Racism, which must always be understood in an American context. The super woke cult group Black Hammer made waves recently with their #FuckAnneFrank campaign... you'd be hard pressed to find anyone associated with the GOP taking a firm stance against the diary since, oh, about 1975 or so.

So which side was it? That doesn't matter. What matters is, I cannot find out.

Now, pro-CRT people always accuse anti-CRT people of not knowing what CRT is, and then after making such accusations they always define CRT in a way that absolutely is not what CRT is. Pro-CRTers default to "they don't want  students to read about slavery or racism." This is absolutely not true, and absolutely not what actual CRT concerns itself with. Slavery and racism have been mainstays of American history curriucla since before I was born. Even people who barely paid attention in school would admit this, if there were any more desire for honesty in our discourse. 

My high school history teacher was a southern "lost causer" who took the south's side in the Civil War but nonetheless provided us with the most descriptive and unapologetic understandings of slavery's brutalities I had heard up until that point. He also unambiguously referred to the nuclear attacks on Hiroshmia and Nagasaki as "genocidal." Why? Because most people's politics are idiosyncratic, and because you cannot genuinely infer a person to believe one thing based on their opinion of another, tangentially related thing. The totality of human understanding used to be something open-minded people prided themselves on being aware of, believe it or not...

This is the problem with CRT. This is is the motivation behind the majority of people who wish to ban it. It’s not because they are necessarily racist themselves. It’s because they recognize, correctly, that the now-ascendant frames for understanding social issues boils everything down to a superficial patina that denies not only the realities of the systems they seek to upend but the very humanity of the people who exist within them. There is no humanity without depth and nuance and complexities and contradictions. When you argue otherwise, people will get mad and fight back. 

And this is the most bitter irony of this idiotic debate: it was never about not wanting to teach the sinful or embarrassing parts of our history. That was a different debate, one that was settled and won long ago. It is instead an immense, embarrassing overreach on behalf of people who have bullied their way to complete dominance of their spheres of influence within media and academe assuming they could do the same to everyone else. Some of its purveyors may have convinced themselves that getting students to admit complicity in privilege will prevent police shootings, sure. But I know these people. I’ve spoken to them at length. I’ve read their work. The vast, vast majority of them aren’t that stupid. The point is to exert control. The point is to make sure they stay in charge and that nothing changes. The point is failure. 

[uswntxfootball]

Worth the stitches (Lindsey Horan x Reader)

request: @kweens14 ; ooo could you do protective lindsey horan x reader? thanks! love your fics :)

word count: 1831 ish You’re a quiet, non-confrontational forward for the uswnt, and in the eyes of Allysha Chapman, the perfect target for her illegal tackles. What she didn’t factor into the equation however, was a certain protective, very confrontational blonde midfielder.  a/n: hfjsns the gif i wanted wouldn’t upload :( it was the one of horan shoving arod and i thought it would be fitting but tumbr was like haha nope so yeah :( anyways! its my first request that i’ve ever done! hope i did it justice! :)

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The game against Canada had been nothing short of brutal. It began with a quick goal for the US, courtesy of Carli Lloyd’s boot, but less than fifteen minutes into the game, the US found themselves tied with Canada after a sly chip from Sinclair. The game remained deadlocked in a tie for the next half hour, and just before halftime was when the Canadian national team began their attack. Illegal tackles began slowly finding their way into the game, with the refs turning a blind eye to what are obvious yellow and red card fouls. And when Alex Morgan is subbed off in the 31st minute with an injury, Canadian defender Allysha Chapman decides you’re going to be her next target. You were a quiet player, and you weren’t one to complain to refs or fight back against players. Chapman knew this, and she planned to take full advantage of it. ~~ You fall to the ground with a grimace as Chapman lands a particularly hard tackle on you, knocking you off of your feet. The first person by your side is your best friend and fellow Portland Thorns teammate, Lindsey, who’s patting your back and giving you a soft smile. “Are you okay?” she asks, you nodding your head, blushing, as she helps you to your feet. Your crush on the midfielder was painfully obvious to others, but lucky for you, Lindsey was oblivious to that fact and you planned to keep it that way. “Just a bruise on my hip but I’ll be okay” You reassure her. Lindsey nods reluctantly and walks away, not before giving Chapman a glare that could scare off a wild bear. The whistle sounds and just like that, the game continued. Even though there were only a few minutes left until half time, you had ended up on the turf six times after that initial tackle. Your uniform began to become stained green from the amount of time you spent on the turf. Lindsey had been at your side helping you get up every time you went down, your cheeks flushing every time. But it was now that you could see the rage swirling behind Lindsey’s eyes, watching as you went down and down again with no fouls being called. You give her forearm a reassuring squeeze, completely missing the way her eyes soften and cheeks flush, as you tell her you’re okay. The midfielder nods and lets out a few deep breaths to calm down, as you both head back towards the game. And not even a few seconds later, the seventh tackle hits and you’re back on the ground. You watch from the ground eyes widening as Lindsey grits her teeth and her hands begin to clench up into a fist all the while walking towards Chapman. You quickly scramble off the ground and run towards the woman before she can make it there. You put your hands on her shoulders and turn her head so she faces you. Your eyes widen at the sight of pure anger on her face, and just as you’re about to speak, the whistle blows, signaling the end of the first half. You grab her hand and drag the midfielder off the field, leading her into the hallway behind the locker room. ~~ You let go of her hand when you reach the back, opting instead to place your hand on her forearm, giving the midfielder a squeeze. “Just stay calm. It’s okay.” “But it’s not okay! The refs are literally blind considering that Chapman has made tackles that are definitely red card worthy!” She growls, throwing her arms up in frustration. “I know I know, but murder is unfortunately illegal”. You joke, hoping it’ll cheer her up a bit and lighten the mood. The blonde relents and gives a small smile and chuckle, leaning her head down onto your shoulder. Lindsey’s eyebrows furrow when you move out from under her, but her cheeks flush red as you then turn to wrap your arms around her, your head against her chest. “I’m okay I promise.” You say, pulling back to look her in her eyes. “I just don’t want you to get hurt”. “Aw you actually care about me?” You tease, Lindsey rolling her eyes in annoyance. “Of course I care about you doofus, I actually like having you around” She says, completely missing the way your cheeks heat up. You lean back into her chest, and you stay there, listening to her heartbeat. Lindsey stands there, cheeks flushed as she wraps her arms around you, silently hoping you don’t hear how fast her heart is pounding in her chest. Just as she opens her mouth to say something, Kelley yells from the locker room, “Eyo Horan! Y/LN! Time to go!” You pull away from the blonde reluctantly, and with a wave of courage, You lean in to give her a quick peck on the cheek and whisper, “Thank you for caring about me though”. Lindsey stands still with her mouth agape, hand on her flushed cheek as she watches you walk back towards the pitch. You’re halfway down the hall when you turn around to see the woman still standing there and you call out, “Linds?” “Coming!” ~~ Unfortunately for you, things weren’t much better in the second half. Chapman was still on you, tackling you left and right whenever the ball was at your feet. Lindsey was right by your side every time, you reassuring her every time, and her reluctantly agreeing to not rip Chapman’s head off every time. But at the 78th minute is when everything changes. Lindsey’s eyes widen when she sees Chapman coming in behind you, sliding in for a tackle, studs up. And to her horror, this time you let out a pained wail as you fall to the ground, gripping your calf. Lindsey like usual, is at your side, but this time, you weren’t telling her that you were fine. You weren’t telling her not to rip Chapman’s head off. You were crying and your sock and leg were soaked in blood. The medics are at your side immediately, and when they roll down your sock and take one look at your calf, they turn to Vlatko and give him the sign for the need of a substitute. Lindsey can only watch, frozen in shock, as you’re carried off of the field and into the back. The rage she felt inside her earlier was back, but this time, it was ten times stronger. Christen, who came on as your sub, along with the rest of the team, witness with wide eyes from across the field the result of Lindsey Horan’s fury. What she screamed at Chapman and the ref couldn’t be heard by the rest of the team, but what the team could see was the solid punch that sent Chapman sprawling onto the ground. Plus with the crack that came from the impact to Chapman’s face, what was most likely a broken nose if not more, and as a result, the look of true terror spreading on the Canadian defender’s face. Lindsey doesn’t even wait for the ref to pull out the red card when she bolts off of the field in search of you. ~~ You sat in the locker room with your leg stitched and bandaged. Chapman had left some nasty marks in your leg with her cleats, and you’re sure you’re going to have a permanent scar because of it. You could hear the roar of the crowd in the stadium, meaning someone probably scored, but you could care less as your mind was focused elsewhere. Specifically, on a certain blonde midfielder. Since the game was still going on, your brows furrow when you hear cleats clicking on the tile floor, and you look up to see the woman you had been thinking about a few seconds prior. “What are you doing here?” You ask, your brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s not important. How’s your leg?” She asks, before taking a seat on the bench next to you. “It’s okay, I got it stitched up. No major injuries, just some flesh wounds, so I should be okay playing next game.” “Can’t say the same about me.” Lindsey snorts, your brows furrowing in confusion again before you ask, “Linds... what did you do?” After much silence she mumbles quietly, “I may have broken Chapman’s nose.” “You did what??!” “Yeah” She muttered, looking down at her cleats. It’s then that you notice her right fist, knuckles swollen and colored with angry red and purple blots. “Oh Linds..” You sigh, grabbing her right arm to take a closer look at her hand. She turns to you with a blush, gasping when you take her hand in yours and place a light kiss to her knuckles. When you look up at her, you notice a glassy sheen over those green eyes you adored so much. “Wha-“ You’re cut off when Lindsey surges forward and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You blink once. twice. Lindsey Horan was kissing you. And you weren’t kissing back. Before you can reciprocate, Lindsey pulls back and starts to apologize. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me and I jus-“ You shut her up by grabbing the front of her jersey and pulling her in to give her a kiss. The kiss is a short and sweet confession, and when she kisses you back, your life is complete. You pull back after a few seconds and press your forehead against hers, and all you can do is smile. “Go on a date with me.” Lindsey states after a while and you let out a snort saying, “Isn’t that supposed to be a question? Like will you go on a date with me?” “I mean duh right of course I’m sorry I meant, will you go on a date with me?” Lindsey stutters nervously, hand rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m sorry I just assumed tha-“ You interrupt her with a kiss. “Yes of course I’ll go on a date with you, you dork.” You say while rolling your eyes. Lindsey’s face splits into a huge grin and she leans in for another kiss when the team bursts into the locker room. Megan’s eyes widen when she sees the two of you and she nearly screams, “KELLEY YOU OWE ME FIFTY BUCKS!” Kelley winces and opens her mouth to speak when Ashlyn steps up and slaps Lindsey on the back. “Y/N, you should’ve seen her dude. She went all Rocky Balboa on Chapman and totally rocked her SHIT!” This makes the whole team laugh and earns her a slap on the back of her head from Ali who chides her on her language. As you watch the team bicker amongst themselves, you lay your head on Lindsey’s shoulder and stare up at her, the woman looking back at you with a loving smile. And so a few months later when the US played Canada again, all it took was one glare from Lindsey (who by now is your girlfriend btw), and Chapman made sure to keep herself far, far away from you.