I promise I’m going somewhere with this but I am currently fixating on how seeing Naberius’s trident knife in the beginning of HtN gives Harrow the Gideon Memory Migraine™, despite no clear connection to Gideon:
Ianthe considered this. She nudged the confection basket hilt of the rapier at her hip aside, and took out a long knife that, again, ran a hot rill of pain down your temporal bone. It was—though you had never bothered to learn—Tern’s main-gauche, his trident knife, a long blade from which two other blades would spring at the press of some hidden mechanism; she flicked that mechanism now, and with a snickt they burst out like a firework, two hard points of gleaming steel. She flicked it again, and the blades went snickt back into their housing.
Is it simply that it’s something from the Canaan House era in general? Or is there more going on? Stick with me here.
One of my pet theories I’ve been harboring since Kiriona’s wounds were revealed is that Harrow herself wounded Gideon after she threw herself on the fence, paralleling Jesus’s side wound from being speared after his crucifixion. They needed to ensure Jesus was truly dead, and presumably Harrow also needed to be well and truly sure that Gideon was dead before proceeding. Ianthe says she put a sword through Naberius’s heart to pin his soul in place for her ascension, and we see his body run through with the sword. Harrow needing to do the same to Gideon would certainly be some very juicy angst fuel.
The other crucial component here is one of my other favorite pet theories: that Harrow knew Gideon’s sword was haunted, likely before even coming to Canaan House. I’ve seen a few people do some more detailed explanations about that, but I’ll do a brief rundown here.
Harrow says as far back as GtN about the sword “I never liked that cursed thing anyway; I always felt like it was judging me.” After the events of HtN with the River and Canaan House 2.0, we know she has an innate and potentially subconscious talent with spirit magic; it seems likely she was able to sense what was in the sword whether she knew exactly what was going on or not.
In HtN, Guideline #3 in her her pre-lobotomy letters to her post-lobotomy self has several stipulations (wipe it down with arterial blood nightly, coat it in regenerating ash, don’t cut flesh or bone with it) that sound a lot like precautions one would take to keep a soul from hopping out of it.
When discussing the sword with Abigail in Canaan House 2.0, we get some very specific qualifiers around how much information Harrow is able to provide about the sword. Directly before remembering that the sword was Gideon’s we have: “Harrow’s brain, though still a jumble, was no longer a mess in a darkened room. Memory had gifted her a small torch she could light the disarray with.”
After that, she struggles to recall further details, her own brain providing obstacles: “The light was not proving helpful enough: she was, in desperation, kicking over piles of the rubble in her own brain.” In the end, she’s able to tell Abigail: “I hated that damned sword for years. I don’t know why; it just felt strange - rancorous. I cannot deny that I often assumed its edge would be the last thing I saw. I don’t know.”
Circling back to the final battle of GtN, we get my favorite little nugget of support for this: Harrow is described as looking “affrighted” when Gideon tells her to go get her two-hander. I’d initially taken that to mean she was startled (and maybe a bit annoyed) to find out that Gideon had brought it at all, or freaked out at the situation in general. But I’ve begun to wonder if she specifically didn’t want Gideon to bring that sword with her to Canaan House because she knew, or at least suspected, what it contained.
Which brings us to the trident knife. If Harrow needed to fix Gideon’s soul in place by impaling her herself, and she knew there was a malevolent soul in the two-hander that could conceivably hitch a ride in another body that it came into contact with, she would have needed a different tool for the job… Which may very well have been the trident knife. Seeing the weapon she used to mutilate her cavalier’s body with seems like exactly the sort of thing that would bring on one of Harrow’s Gideon-induced headaches, no? It’s also notable that when Harrow sees this knife, it’s directly before Ianthe stabs her through the hand, again analogous to crucifixion wounds. I gotta say, if this holds water, there’s a certain poetry to both Harrow and Gideon receiving versions of the Holy Wounds on the blade of the same knife.
(Edit to add: further theorizing prompted by @camilla-rekt‘s fab addition can be found on this reblog)
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The fact that there’s only one time in Chuuya’s life that Corruption was activated (outside of the lab) where Dazai wasn’t there in the aftermath and that was when Chuuya was just 7 years old and left in the crater of the explosion he created, in so much pain and with gravity probably still fluctuating around him. Nothing but complete destruction, hell on earth, and suffering for a seven-year-old child.
Chuuya is never in good shape after he uses Corruption, and I imagine he wasn’t in good shape after he used the full force of Arahabaki (and by used I mean when it was forced out of him due to Rimbaud). And like, we’ve seen Chuuya close Verlaine’s gate when he defeated the Beast of Guivre, and it left Verlaine close to death (though I also imagine that’s in part due to the fact Verlaine isn’t really human), and we also saw earlier on in Storm Bringer when Verlaine opened Corruption for only a second and then closed the gate that Chuuya was in agony, left to suffer in the hell of what was left of the street he’d been on.
That scene of Chuuya lying on the ground in what used to be an alleyway in excruciating pain is already hard to read, and he’s 16 then (still so young) but at least Dazai still comes (even though he doesn’t technically have to) and nullifies the aftershocks of Chuuya’s ability that are causing him so much pain. Causing him to suffer.
But imagine Chuuya at 7 years old, imagine how small that is, probably in nothing more than a hospital gown, lying in the rubble of the giant crater that will one day become Suribachi city, experiencing all that suffering and probably more. He’s completely alone in the hell of his own ability’s destruction, in unimaginable pain. His frail body that’s been in a lab for so long probably spasming with the pain as he feels the sun for the first time in who knows how long. And there was no one to hold him or catch him or for him to fall into. No one’s lap to rest his head on. No one to hoist him onto their shoulders and carry him away from the carnage. No one to nullify the pain he was in. No one to comfort him or remind him who he was.
What did he probably have to do when he woke up? Wait until he had enough strength to sit up, wait until the dizziness abated enough for him to stand, and through the disorientation walk on his own two feet despite the pain. He’d been through plenty of it after all, even if he couldn’t remember why, his body remembered.
He’d have to piece together any scraps of memory he had. His name probably came first. Then the horrific feeling of the power inside him and that he was probably responsible for the hellscape he was trying to navigate, cutting and scraping his bare feet in the crater of what was.
Find the corpse of some military personnel that’d been killed in the explosion Arahabaki had caused, far enough away he hadn’t been completely obliterated, and at least steal some of his uniform to wear, though it was much too big for his skinny 7-year-old frame. And the shoes wouldn’t do him any good, they’d just fall off, the jacket already kept slipping off his shoulder.
And then, in that moment, he was perhaps the loneliest person in the world. Not later, when he was 16 and had someone to catch him and someone had just attempted to sacrifice himself for Chuuya. No, then he had a semblance of a family. But when he was 7, that was when he was just alone, and in pain, with no one to reassure him that everything was alright, that nothing was his fault. That his destructive power didn’t make him less human. If anything, he was probably lucky no one with bad intentions found him.
And then who knows how long later, he’d wandered far enough away from the wreckage, under a bridge where a couple of other kids around his age found him. Still without shoes and in a military uniform far too large for him. Filthy and starving, but having the strength, having the courage to ask a kid “what’s that square thing?” “Tell me what that square thing is in your hand. Right now.” Last ditch effort of demanding, because somehow he still had a strong will. And the kid was just holding a slice of bread. Chuuya just wanted to know if he could eat it.
Like, can we just talk about the tragedy of that? How truly sad it is that when Chuuya asked “what’s that square thing” and the answer was just bread. Shirase just explaining“I was holding a slice of bread,” and then having to show him that it was edible. Like, my god. And then Chuuya just… faints, on the spot “like he was out of batteries,” as Shirase describes. Finally all his energy and willpower to survive depleted in this moment of hopeful safety. Shirase also says Chuuya looked half dead he was so skinny.
But at least Chuuya had finally found some people who’d given him some food and water. At least Shirase decided to take him to some shelter, even if it was in the sewers. He finally had people, even if they weren’t well off, they had something. Finally he wasn’t alone. And when he learned he had something to offer them in return in the form of his ability? Well, of course he was going to use it to help them.
Also, just, his first memory was of being alone and in pain. Where he is now may not be perfect, but thank god he’s come such a long way and has people and a home and food and luxuries. But like, he just has to live with that every day.
Oh, and mind you, all this was happening to Chuuya close to the end/in the aftermath of the war, which was already a bad time for people, as Murase talks about. He says “But it was the end of the war, and there were supply shortages everywhere you went. Some kids from the Settlement appeared out of nowhere and tried to sneak inside to steal some food.” So on top of Chuuya’s personal struggles, there were shortages of supplies everywhere, bad enough that kids were trying to sneak into military facilities for food.
So, yeah, this actually massively got away from me, into the territory of hcs and back out again. But like, every time we see Chuuya use Corruption Dazai is around, because he really has to be. And I love that. But just thinking about the one time where Dazai wasn’t around after the full effects of Chuuya’s ability and how that was probably the worst time and Chuuya was only 7 and alone and woke up in the middle of essentially hell on earth with like no memories. It makes me want to scream, and that’s why I wrote this. And then I reread the part in SB where Shirase explains how he met Chuuya and just got even sadder. Fun times fun times.
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Chapter 8 of TPiaG: Body Swap AU
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@sincerely-sofie I think this is my favorite chapter I've written so far!
Twig is unconscious
Darkrai couldn't sleep.
As ironic as that sentence is, it's nonetheless true.
He'd long since gotten used to the needs that Twig's body demands for. And he would be lying if he didn't say he, to some extent, enjoyed being able to fall asleep.
But for the last week, he couldn't fall sleep for the life of him.
He tossed and turned in his bed, trying every position he could think of.
He attempted to sleep curled up, splayed out, on his belly, his side, his back. With his blanket, without his blanket (A grave mistake).
Nothing worked.
And he hated so much that he knew why.
He couldn't stop thinking of Twig.
That loathsome wretch that took his body.
He couldn't understand why he can't stop thinking of her.
He hated her.
He hated how scared and helpless he felt seeing that passage open.
He hated how he wasn't as angry as he wanted to be when she picked him up without his consent.
He can't stop thinking of how she broke the shelves in that closet to fit both of them in there, even though she could have easily just stuffed him in there alone.
He hated so much that he felt safe in there with her.
He hated the way his breath caught on itself when she pulled him closer, after hearing Grovyle step past.
He hated how he felt like he'd been torn in half when Grovyle ripped her out of there.
He hated how frozen in terror he was as he watched Grovyle beat her within an inch of her life.
He hated how he felt utterly useless, watching Celebi, Dusknoir and Kip do everything they could to keep her from dying...
...
Darkrai's eyes widened as a thought came to his mind.
She may not have been attacked if she had just left him.
She might not be unconscious in the hospital, straddling the line between life and death, if she had simply hidden herself in the shadows, and left him to confront Grovyle.
She wasn't hiding herself from Grovyle.
She was protecting him...
...
Darkrai slowly curled his fists, leaving scratch marks in the floor.
No.
That wasn't what she was doing.
She hated him as much as he hated her.
It was in her best interest to keep her own body alive.
Then why didn't she hide you in the closet alone, and try speaking with Grovyle
Because Grovyle would have attacked her regardless.
Then she would have hidden herself in the shadows and tried conversing with him.
Did you not see the murderous rampage Grovyle was on?! He wouldn't have listened to her.
What about the code word?
Darkrai's heart skipped a beat.
She would have had a chance to say it had she not tried to keep you safe.
She... She had a chance to say it during their fight. She'd forgotten she had that word in mind.
Would she have forgotten if he didn't claim that her voice was a trick? Would she have forgotten if she had a chance to talk with Grovyle? Would she have forgotten if she only dodged, and didn't try to fight back?
Grovyle wouldn't have believed her if she did say the word.
Kip didn't believe her until she said the word to him. And he had more of a reason to doubt the legitimacy.
Darkrai pressed his claws into his arms.
Stop.
If she had shown you to him, and explained what had happened, what do you think Grovyle would have done?
Darkrai winced from the pain he was inflicting on himself, attempting to hold back tears.
Stop it!
Grovyle would not have hesitated to try and kill you.
STOP!
He would blame you, as he does now, for stealing her body.
Blood was starting to pool where his claws pierced his skin.
Do you not recall her expression, when she apologized for what she said to you that morning? And the promise she made to find something for you to do during the day?
ENOUGH! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MY OWN MIND BELITTLING ME LIKE THIS!!!
She cares about you.
...
Darkrai quietly cried in his bed. Trying to remain as silent as possible so the others couldn't hear him.
Why?
...
Silence.
**********
Grovyle lay flat on his back in Kip's bed, ironically getting less sleep than he did than for the few weeks he was technically homeless. Forced to stay in that position so his ribs would heal correctly. Tears flow down his face as he thought about Twig.
The fear in her eyes, as a human, a Charmander, and in Darkrai's body haunted him.
The feeling of satisfaction he felt, watching her bleed before he knew who she was, made him consider leaving to enter Labyrinth Cave alone.
Grovyle intentionally took deep breaths. Each one sending out sharp pain from his chest.
He can never see her again. His presence would force her to relive what he'd done to her.
He tried to kill her.
He forced her through intense agony to make her suffer.
He traumatized her.
She should hate him.
She should hate him the way he hates himself, with every fiber of her being...
He hopes she does.
*********
Dusknoir couldn't take any comfort in the literature he used to. Despite Celebi's and the doctors' best efforts, the damage done to his eye is permanent. Everything looks like he'd been submerged underwater. His age already made his eyesight worse, but now he'll have to learn Braille to read again.
But he wasn't worried about that.
He was more worried about Kip.
He was of course worried about Twig. Praying at every moment that she would recover, but his fears still lay in seeing Kip neglect himself to watch Twig at all times.
The fact that the last thing he could, and probably will ever see clearly, was Kip's expression of terror, the same he'd seen several years ago, filled him with a pain that was much greater than what Kip had afflicted him with.
Dusknoir wondered if all of this would have been avoided if he was never given his undeserved mercy.
He saw the way Kip shook when he exited the passage of time.
Twig wouldn't be on the cusp of death, and Kip would be happy if he was simply never brought back.
********
Celebi couldn't understand how Darkrai isn't exhausted all the time with how he's constantly angry.
She's barely able to do anything but sit on the couch and think of just how much of a brain-dead idiot she is.
If she had just looked forward when they figured out that Kip and Twig had moved, then she could have stopped any of this from happening.
But NOOOOO!~ She just HAD to wait and see what would happen! She just HAD to be surprised by how things would turn out!
And now she hurt everyone and Twig might die.
Sure, they managed to get her to the hospital, and yeah, She's at least stable.
But what happens if her body gives out?
She dies.
And it'd be her fault if she does.
Celebi doesn't even want to think about what Kip and Grovyle would do if she passes.
She's completely trapped in a prison of her own design.
She hates that she didn't look forward then, and she hates how scared she is to look forward now.
She hates how angry she feels towards Kip for hurting Dusknoir like that. Even though she knows it was a knee-jerk reaction.
She hates how angry she is at Grovyle, for letting himself get to the point where all logic and reasoning went out the window. Even though she knows he was just tired and furious and paranoid.
But she doesn't hate how angry she is at herself.
There isn't a justification for her actions.
She is just stupid.
*********
Kip didn't care that sleeping next to her gave him nightmares. He couldn't care less that the pendant she wore with the lunar feather was lost during her fight.
The fear he feels in those nightmares pales in comparison to the fear he feels at every waking second.
Every morning he jolts awake, covered in cold sweat from the nightmare he had, and stares at Twig. Watching her to make sure she's still breathing.
He hasn't left the room since he was allowed in after the emergency surgery the Doctors had to preform on her.
He watches the doctors replace the medicine and bandages daily. Staring at her wounds to make sure they haven't gotten infected. Even if that's not his job.
Kip just-
He was so mad at himself.
He wanted to make up for abandoning Twig when she needed him most. But he can't.
And he might not ever be able to.
What a moron he is. He can't figure out why he started running in the first place.
They were his friends. They wouldn't hurt him or Twig.
But Grovyle ended up nearly killing her anyway. All because he wasn't there to defend her. To explain what had happened.
Kip stared at Twig.
First time she's slept since switching bodies, and it was because of him.
Kip stood up and heavily, slowly walked towards the door.
He turned his head to look back at her. Hoping she'd woken up.
She didn't. She lay in the same position. Her breathing, weak and short.
...
Team Skull was right about him
They were more right than Twig ever was.
All he ever did was weigh her down. He was a burden that he forced her to carry.
She had lied to him. He wasn't her friend. Friends don't abandon each other when they need them most.
Friends don't suddenly change their minds and try to go back for them for no reason.
Friends don't break down crying, unable to do anything while trying to put medicine on their wounds.
Friends don't act like him.
Kip left the room and slowly walked out of the hospital towards the travel agency. His head hung low.
He could feel the atmosphere get less heavy with each step, but he himself still felt heavy.
He's going... Somewhere. He doesn't know where. Just, any other town.
She doesn't deserve a scumbag 'friend' like him.
It's better this way...
*******
Celebi had told her everything.
She couldn't help but notice the underlying anger in her words. Everything recounted to her with an uncharacteristic flatness. Simply laying out the facts and nothing more.
She took a slight amusement as she thought about how Twig must have looked at Grovyle, when he saw her clutching that monster like some scared child holding a stuffed toy.
It was exactly what she deserved to have happen after she gave pity to that wretched, selfish thing.
At least justice was finally served.
Maybe now she'll take a step back and realize her actions and words were in no way justified.
Maybe she'll finally see just how awful he acted. And finally take the steps to right what's wrong.
Cresselia stopped her midnight flight when she suddenly realized that someone experiencing great physical and emotional pain. Barely detectable, as it was far away. All the way over on the Fire continent.
Cresselia decided to shelve the thoughts as she began making her way over to where the pain was originating.
She thinks it may be coming from a Snivy but she isn't quite sure yet.
Cresselia enjoyed the feeling of the crisp, early spring night breeze against her feathers.
Perhaps her and Kip will finally see eye-to-eye when she returns.
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