#Those things are obviously not mutually exclusive but i think the reason why the blood soaked gown line or brooklyn broke my skin n bones
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whenever Taylor does something like using blue glitter as a metaphor for not fitting in/not being a person i am fiercely reminded of how Fun she simply is
#Like. As much as i love interpretations of her song that lean into horror and the gothic and all she's also so. Fun! Idk#Those things are obviously not mutually exclusive but i think the reason why the blood soaked gown line or brooklyn broke my skin n bones#Hit me so hard on first listen were because they come from a very guttural place taylor doesn't usually operate from
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Superior Specimen - Chapter 6
Summary: One night when you are following the Archaeology tag on instagram you stumbled across a fun looking dig… and an even more interesting Paleontologist who soon follows you back. Over the following weeks you start chatting and a friendship soon grows.
Relationship: AU Henry Cavill x Female Reader (No race or body shape mentioned)
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
Warnings: Slow Burn, NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Drunken Piggy Back Rides, Oral Sex (Female Recieving), Drama, Theft, Amateur Heroics, Hospital Visit, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Blow Job, Fingering, Lavish lifestyle, Henry is loaded, The Shard, Expensive Gifts, Sixty nine, Unprotected Sex
I do not operate a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified whenever i post something new.
I don’t have a masterlist, but all my works are on AO3, link here.
Usually i post oneshots to Tumblr and AO3, and multichapters exclusively to AO3, but as this is my first henry story and its going to be a short series, i’ll post to both places.
Chapter 6
Henry left soon after, grabbing a slice of toast as you’d stood in the kitchen in just your dressing gown, apologising for not being able to spend the day with you but he had meetings for work and for future dig’s planned for the southern hemisphere in the winter. You’d stood in the kitchen sipping your coffee for a long while after he’d left, thinking over what he’d casually dropped into conversation; was this a fling?, Was the fact that he would spend months at a time out of the country the reason why such a catch was still single? Or was this something he did; find a girl, romance them, and then leave them on ‘business’ once things got boring? You shook your head to rid yourself of those thought and immediately regretted it, your head hurting from your wound. You gingerly touched it and brought your fingers in front of your face, letting out a sigh of relief when you saw there was no blood, but you realised you’d need to be careful for the next couple of days.
As you continued to sip your coffee you read over your emails again, re-reading the one from your boss and frowning; it seemed very short and curt, but he was probably just annoyed that one of his staff was due time off in their busiest season due to what was essentially a workplace injury.
You decided you were going to head to yoga, even without the joke earlier about needing to limber up, it would help you focus and recharge your mind as well as your body.
-
By the time Friday afternoon had arrived your week off was surprisingly busy; finally finding time to do all those small chores that you had put off for weeks, but also you’d taken the chance to go shopping for a dress for your date.
Rather than hit the chaos of Oxford Street or Westfield, instead you’d sought out a couple of vintage and secondhand dress agencies. Your morning had been fun, searching through unique pieces until you’d found it, the dress that was perfect. The woman that ran the vintage shop had guessed it had been a custom piece made in the 80’s, the midnight blue velvet piece fitting you like a glove. It had a thigh high split on one side and was patterned with silver sequins hand sewn on sporadically to make it resemble the night sky. It was strapless but had little hooks along the scalloped bust line that could hook over the cups of a strapless bra for extra security. You had a pair of silver heels in your wardrobe at home that would work perfectly with it, and with a bargain clutch from Primark you were sorted.
As you primped and preened that afternoon, fixing your hair and makeup, you smiled at your reflection as you pulled the dress on just a few minutes before Henry was due to pick you up. You were checking the contents of your clutch when the doorbell rang, frowning as you answered it and saw Henry on the small intercom screen;
“Henry? You know the code”
He grinned at the camera;
“Yes, but I’m being gentlemanly… this time I don’t already have you drunk or drugged in my arms…”
You pressed the buzzer to let him in, flicking the latch on the door as you went to fasten the straps on your heels, looking up just as he peered around the open doorway and stopped dead on his feet;
“Wow…”
He looked you up and down, his eyes wide as he took in your curves in the vintage dress, his gaze pausing at your chest on his way down and then on his way back up again.
You had a similar reaction when you saw how he was dressed; navy suit and kingfisher blue shirt, the top few buttons undone where it fitted his chest like a glove. He crossed the room slowly, like a predator stalking his prey, resting his hands on your hips and ducking his head to kiss you before pulling back to admire your cleavage close up;
“I must say, I am a big fan of this dress” He ran a fingernail over the top of your breast, your skin prickling in Goosebumps at his touch before he opened his jacket and pulled a flat velvet box from the inside pocket and handed it to you;
“You remember when we first started talking properly, that I said I’d brought you something back from Siberia?”
Your eyes went wide;
“Henry… what is this?”
“Open it and see”
In disbelief you pulled the box open and let out a small gasp; nestled within the box was a delicate necklace, a raw amethyst gemstone set into a delicate silver chain. As you held the box he lifted the chain, walking behind you so he could bring it over your head, his fingers nimbly fastening it before he traced his fingertips over your bare shoulders and pressed a kiss to your neck;
“You look stunning… the platinum looks beautiful on you”
You spun around, your hand resting on the necklace;
“Platinum?! I thought it was silver! Henry, this is too much… I can’t take this, not when it’s only our first date…”
He brought his hands to yours and gently clasped them, pressing a kiss to your fingers before he smiled kindly;
“It’s not really our first date though, is it? We’ve had drinks, I’ve spent the night… And please, let me give you this…”
“But it’s too expensive!”
“Not to me it isn’t… I’m lucky enough to me more than comfortable financially, let me share it with you” He closed his hands gently around yours as they held the necklace, pressing a kiss to your knuckles; “It suits you… and I can’t exactly keep it, the chain would get caught on my chest hair”
You laughed and pressed a kiss to his lips;
“Thank you”
-
Henry had driven you through the early evening London streets with ease, confident and calm even when cabs would cut in front of him or Uber Eats bicycles would whizz past your door at traffic lights. As much as you’d asked him where you were going, he just smiled and replied ‘you’ll see’ before returning his attention back to the road.
Finally you recognised some familiar sights as you passed the entrance to Borough Market, before he swung a left and your eyes went wide;
“We’re going to The Shard?”
He grinned as he steered the car into the space outside the entrance, the valet opening your door was Henry strode around the car and took your hand whilst handing his keys to the valet. The ride up through the building in the silent elevator gave you butterflies, before he took your hand as the doors chimed. Henry offered you his arm and you tucked your own through it, your stomach flipping nervously as he walked with confidence up to the maitre’d;
“Good Evening Dr Cavill”
You had to try and keep your face neutral that the staff knew who he was, and Henry greeted him in return as if he was an old friend;
“How are you Michael? Family good?”
“Yes, thank you Sir. My daughter will be starting Oxford university in September, thank you for your letter of endorsement”
“Wonderful, great to hear. Are we ok to have some drinks and take in the view before we sit down for dinner?”
“Of course, Sir. I can prepare your table for whenever you need it. You’re booked into the Westminster Suite tonight?”
“Yes, that’s the one”
The man smiled as he led you and Henry to a small bar table near the window, and as soon as you’d rested your small clutch bag on it a waiter appeared;
“Can I get you some drinks tonight?”
Henry glanced at you;
“Champers?” You nodded as he continued; “We’ll have a bottle of the Krug 1996”
The waiter nodded once and walked away, and it was only when Henry lightly touched your arm and made you jump did you realise you’d zoned out a little;
“Princess?”
“Sorry, just trying to process this is all real” you laughed quietly
“Very real” he took your hand and was about to say something when the waiter returned, setting the small tray with two champagne flutes and a small bowl of strawberries onto the table, before quietly opening the expensive bottle in front of you. Pouring two glasses he set the bottle onto the table and left without another word, letting you return your attention to Henry;
“What’s on your mind? You were quiet in the car the whole way over. Is this too much?”
You smiled;
“No, it’s wonderful. Obviously it’s not a standard night out for me, but you know…”
“What else is bothering you?”
You took a deep breath and smiled, pointing to your glass of champagne;
“Ok firstly, this; I’m not taking a sip until I tell you that I one hundred percent want to sleep with you”
“Ok, that’s good to hear” he grinned
“You are so kind and caring, specifically waiting until I was sober before we would sleep together, and now obviously you have thought tonight through, you’ve got a suite here - that was a bit of a surprise I’ll add, but a pleasant one - so I want to get this completely agreed to before you waste all this money and then not asking for consent…”
He nodded and sipped his glass, smiling and a kind look on his face as you continued;
“Also, my safe word is Nerd”
“Nerd?”
“Yes. In case of later…”
“Gotcha” he paused for a moment before nodding to your glass; “Do you want a drink now?”
“God yes” You tipped the glass and sipped at the bubbles, feeling them burst over your tongue, and as you were setting the glass down and reaching for a strawberry Henry rested a hand on your hip;
“Is there anything else?”
“You said you were organising digs in the Southern Hemisphere for the winter… where would that leave us, you and me? Would this between us just be a summer fling? I just kind of want to know where I stand before you break my heart”
“So firstly, I do not see this as just a summer fling. I feel like I’ve known you for years, and remember we were talking on Instagram for months before I finally worked up enough courage to say more than just asking if your day was ok… But the winter digs, it’s what I do. Obviously I’m attached to the museum, but I’m also linked to several others all around the world. I can be away for a month or six months at a time, it’s all dependant on the weather and permits, local politics, but I’d fly back whenever I could, and fly you out when you could take time off work”
“You would do that? You would wait for me?”
He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you gently to his chest as he ran a finger gently down your cheek;
“Of course I’d wait for you. I have always waited… I have found people don’t wait for me”
“What?! But… but you’re a catch! You’re kind and caring… you know how to treat a partner in every way!”
He shrugged, looking a little pensive;
“I don’t know what to say… but the last couple of girlfriends presumed I would cheat so ended things ‘before I broke their heart’... which I would never do…”
He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before a quiet cough sounded behind you, the pair of you turning to see the waiter;
“Would you like your table now or would you like to continue with drinks here?”
Henry smiled at you;
“I could eat, you?”
“Yes, please”
The waiter nodded and loading your drinks onto a tray before you followed him, Henry leaning to whisper in your ear;
“I look forward to eating you later too”
-
Dinner was fabulous, each dish seemingly better than the last, flavours dancing on your tongue and you had to struggle not to make obscene moaning sounds, but when the occasional one did escape Henry’s smile would spread further across his face until you laughed as well. By the time the dessert menu was brought over you declined;
“Are you sure?” Henry pushed; “Really, you can have anything you like, this whole night is on me”
You laughed quietly;
“I’m not looking at the prices…” you leant back and rested a hand on your stomach; “But I am *just* the right amount of full at the moment to be happy to do any other activities tonight… if I eat dessert I wouldn’t”
Henry nodded and gave a nod to the waiter, quietly speaking to him before turning his attention back to you;
“Princess, shall we retire back to our suite? A nightcap whilst we take in the view; there’s a telescope in the room”
Nodding you sipped on the last of your drink as Henry signed the bill, slipping a stack of notes into the clip before closing the small black file and handing it back. He stood and quickly circled the table, helping to pull your chair out before offering you his arm.
The ride in the lift to the luxury suites was quiet, the atmosphere almost sparking with the energy the pair of you were giving off from the sexual tension. Henry walked you to the door and you were ready to rip his clothing from his body, but as he pushed the door open he smiled and pressed a finger to his lips before speaking, and not to you;
“Michael, thank you, but we won’t be requiring the butler service tonight”
The man you recognised from the restaurant emerged from what you could see what the small kitchenette area, wiping his hands on a pristine tea towel;
“Understood Dr Cavill. I hope you have an enjoyable stay. Your request from the restaurant has been stored safely in the refrigerator”
“Thank you, Michael,”
As the man passed you saw Henry slip him a £50 note as he quickly shook his hand, before taking the Do Not Disturb sign and slipping it over the gold hook on the outside of the door and quietly closing it.
You watched as he shrugged his jacket off and slowly stalked across the room, wrapping his arm around your back, his other hand gently tilting your chin towards his lips as he kissed you, the press of his hot hard body against your own. The kiss was soft, yet he managed to completely dominate you, his tongue pushing against your own and you could taste the whiskey he’d finished his meal with just a few moments before. Your fingers clawed at his shirt, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, and yet as you managed to get one unfastened he pulled away, slipping his hand into yours;
“Come on, let me show you the view”
The noise that escaped your lips was a cross between a laugh and a toddlers disgruntled moan;
“Henry…” you whined; “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but please, I’m so fucking horny right now, I need you to fuck me into the mattress”
He turned and walked backwards, tugging you to the panoramic windows and the telescope that sat on the full-length tripod, a quiet laugh filling the void between the two of you;
“Princess, I promise you will get that… we have all night, all weekend! I just have one thing I want to show you…”
He peered through the telescope before stepping back and nodding to you, gently guiding you until he was standing behind you, his hands on your hips. You looked through the eyepiece and let out a gasp; on the roof of a building in Canary Wharf was a light display… and yet it wasn’t just lasers, there was light patterns of dinosaurs; Diplodocus reaching for high leaves, T-rex stalking in the bushes, a group of Raptors running across the building.
“Oh Henry… how did you?”
“I have some friends in the city… and some more friends that run outdoor events… just called in a couple of favours”
You watched through the scope and smiled as you felt Henry wrap his arms around your waist, pressing his hard body flush with your own and started to caress your neck with soft kisses. One hand slipped to your thigh and gently started to tug your dress up until it was high enough for him to slip his hand into the thigh high slit and curl around to seek out your pussy. He was still firmly holding you in place, letting you watch the light show in the relative darkness of the luxury suite, but as his fingers dipped beneath the thin elastic of your lacy thong he let out an appreciative groan as he found you already dripping wet;
“You really are horny, aren’t you?”
He found your clit and started to tease it with tight circles, at the same time grinding into the crease of your ass with the hardness still confined to his smart trousers. Under his expert ministrations you soon found yourself swaying your hips, working between pushing harder against his hand then pushing back to feel that delicious friction from behind. Your head fell back against his shoulder and he let out a feral growl against your neck, his teeth grazing against your smooth flesh before gently biting, causing a shudder to run the length of your spine;
“Ok, Dinosaurs are great, but I need a different bone…”
Your words were breathless and were greeted with a low chuckle. Henry withdrew his fingers and you watched as he brought them to his mouth, tasting your juices from the glistening digits, before he moved them to the zip of your dress and slowly started to unzip you. The dress fell to the floor and he let out an appreciative moan;
“No bra?”
“You complaining?”
“Absolutely not”
Your fingers started quick work of his shirt buttons, unfastening them all before pushing the fabric over his massive shoulders. As he cast the garment aside you unbuttoned his trousers, lowering the zip and palming the massive bulge his boxers could barely contain, Henry’s hips pushing against your palm involuntarily as you felt the heat of his skin though the fabric. Your tongue painted patterns against his chest and his voice stuttered;
“I want you to sit on my face, ride my tongue Princess, let me make you cum”
He dropped to his knees and pulled your lace thong down your legs, before unfastening the tiny straps of your heels, running the tips of his fingers up the length of your body as he stood and rid himself of his own clothing, pulling you to the bed.
He lay on the soft covers, pulling you up his body until your knees were either side of his head, his strong hands gripping onto your thighs as his tongue darted out and parted your folds. His eyes glinted with mischief and you could feel yourself shaking with anticipation as he spoke;
“Turn around”
Taking a couple of moments to shift 180º, you rested your hands on his broad chest as he pulled you down to his mouth. At the first touch of his tongue swiping through your folds again you groaned and curled your fingers through the coarse hair on his chest, shuddering at his expert touch. With each pass of the strong muscle you could feel your body rapidly heading towards orgasm already, but when you felt a wide hand flat on your back, pushing you forwards it was heaven as his lips latched onto your clit and he slid two fingers of his other hand into your soaked channel.
Resting your chest against his abdomen you were face to face with his dick, hard and thick as it rested against his stomach, reaching up to his navel where it wept precum. Wrapping your hand around it you smoothed your thumb over the clear liquid, wishing you could reach it with your mouth, but instead spitting on your other hand to work the hot hard flesh. The groan that was muffled from between your thighs told you he was enjoying it, and in return he slid a finger into you, stretching you, and you knew you were done for.
Your attention waived from him as he worked you closer and closer towards your orgasm, before he managed to curl his fingers just right and you were cumming over his face, his strong arm holding you to his mouth as you shook with pleasure.
Finally he carefully withdrew his fingers from you, lifting you so he could lay you head to foot on the bed beside him before resting one massive hand on your soft stomach as your breath came out in rapid pants, your heart racing. You felt the bed shift and the welcome touch of his warm hands parting your legs so he could crawl up your body, pressing open mouthed kisses to every spot he crossed. Eventually he reached your own lips, kissing you deeply, his tongue wide and strong and you could taste yourself as your own tongue danced with his. You could feel his hardness nestled against your folds, slipping against you as your bodies writhed together before he finally pushed himself up on his powerful arms;
“Are you ready?”
“Yes… please Henry…”
Reaching down he took hold of himself and slid the tip up and down through your folds until you felt that delicious notch of his swollen crown resting at your entrance, he looked back to you;
“I’ll go slow… just relax…”
He started to push forwards, your velvet walls slowly parting as he filled you inch by delicious inch, your eyes going wider with each push. He tilted his hips and immediately found your g-spot, your eyes rolling back in their sockets and you let out a groan that would have rattled the glass in the windows had the building not been fitted with hurricane proof panes. You felt Henry’s soft lips press a kiss to your neck, his mouth moving gently over your skin as he spoke;
“You feel like heaven Princess, taking me so well”
“H-Henry… please…”
“What Princess? Is it too much?”
“NO! No, oh my god, please… please move… fuck me… fuck me like you mean it…”
“Princess…” he warned
“I can take it… I want it…”
You looked into his eyes and saw a glint of concern, before a wide smile spread across his face;
“You can, you’re a good girl…”
Pulling his hips back he pushed back in, parting your walls further and the feeling of being so full was almost indescribable. Sure, you’d had partners with big dicks in the past. Some with small dicks. But no-one that had ever been both long and as wide as Henry was. He wasn’t obscenely long, so there wasn’t the uncomfortable stabbing in the cervix, but every inch of his was thick and meaty, and you could feel him completely. Each thrust was becoming harder and faster, and soon he was wrapping one arm around your thigh to pull your legs open wider, tilting his hips so he could change the angle as he fucking railed you into the mattress, your fingers clawing at his back as you begged him for more and more.
The room faded around you, it was just you and Henry, the pleasure each other’s bodies were sharing with the other, feral grunts and moans as you felt pleasure like never before. You fitted together like two pristine pieces of a jigsaw, working together in unity. The rough brush of his chest hair against your hypersensitive nipples was yet another added stimulation, and with each rapid push and thrust your bodies rubbed together to bring you closer to your peak. You were trembling around him, your legs shaking where you were so close to orgasm.
He let go of your leg, now resting both hands either side of your body as he moved quicker, each thrust more powerful than the last, and with each push you had slid a little more along the bed, your head now hanging over the end and resting on the chaise lounge that sat there, the blood rushing to your brain giving you a head rush. You wrapped your legs around Henry’s waist, hooking one foot over another as you pressed them against his ripe ass. Your bodies were slick with sweat, and when you felt that tell-tale sign that your orgasm was starting a guttural moan emerged slowly through your throat.
Your body shook with intense pleasure, you could feel for the very first time your internal muscles squeezing and massaging Henry’s massive girth within you, realising that you had never felt so complete.
As you rode out your orgasm Henry evened his thrusts out, and as your own pleasure was starting to ebb away it set off his own, his thick seed filling you as you felt him twitch and buck within you. You watched as he threw his head back and moaned your name, the smooth expanse of his neck aching for you to touch, and with the last ounce of strength you had you did just that and pressed an open mouthed kiss to his Adams Apple.
With one final grunt you felt him twitch for the last time before his body relaxed, and those steel blue eyes met yours in the twilight of the room, your bodies only illuminated by the bright lights of the London night skyline. He shifted, moving one hand behind your head to support and cup it in his massive palm, the other resting on his elbow so your bodies were pressed together yet he wasn’t resting his entire weight atop of you. There were no words, the smiles on your faces told the other all the words your mouths couldn’t articulate.
The passing of time didn’t register in your mind, and it was only when Henry’s entire body did an involuntary shudder did you both come back to reality. Steadying himself on his arms he slowly pulled out of you, letting out a string of gentle ‘hoo-ha’s as the pull of your body against his over sensitive flesh was almost overwhelming for him. Kneeling on the bed he ran his hands over your thighs, warm against the now goose bumped skin and he pulled your legs apart slightly;
“Wanna watch my cum drip out of you Princess”
His hands rested on your inner thighs at the apex, his thumbs pulling apart your lips and you watched as he watched his thick seed slowly pool at your entrance. With one thumb he swiped it through the cum before spreading it over your swollen folds. He let out a grunt and moved, sliding an arm behind your back and helped you sit up, pressing his thumb to your lips which you eagerly took into your mouth, sucking on the thick pad as you tasted your combined essence on his salty skin.
“Let’s rest for a while before the next round” he muttered before kissing your cheek.
You nodded, muttering about needing to pee, and on wobbly legs you staggered to the bathroom like a new-born fawn.
Chapter 7 >>>
Chapter 6 notes:
In case you wanted to be nosey and see just how much Henry spent on their date:
Champagne:
https://thechampagnecompany.com/krug-1996-vintage-champagne-75cl-gift-box
Restaurant at the Shard:
https://www.the-shard.com/restaurants/aquashard/
Room at the Shard:
https://www.shangri-la.com/london/shangrila/rooms-suites/suites/westminster-suite/
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whats the point of yamato
comments on youtube
Here's my take: the Wano Arc is about the "burden of inherited will." By this I mean something like, the burden of upholding the promises and dreams of those who came before. We've seen inherited will as an unambiguously good thing in the series so far, but the Wano Arc is trying to complicate the narrative, by showing what a burden it can be to take on the dreams of those who came before. And this theme isn't just in one storyline, it's laced throughout the Wano Arc, in the motivations of so many characters: * We have Momo struggling with the burden of living up to his father's legacy as a leader, and the burden of the throne of Wano. He's anguished over this, he weeps, because it's a burden to live up to someone as great as his father. * In Oden's flashback, we seem him struggle with the burden of his own father's dreams (that he become the Shogun, settle down, etc), only for him to eventually return and take on the burden of the country (literally, he puts his followers on his back!). * We have the Scabbards struggling with the burden of achieving Oden's dream of opening Wano's borders. They spend twenty years waiting and suffering, or travel across the sea and suffer, all for the sake of their leader's dream. We see Ashura-doji grow bitter under this burden, we see Denjiro mentally break, we see Kine'mon refuse to have a joyful reunion with his wife, all because they suffer under the burden of an inherited dream. * Orochi felt compelled to uphold the will of his ancestors and depose the Kozukis and throw the country into ruin. There's a reason we see his ancestors basically manipulate him into pursuing his path. They pass on their dream to him. * So obviously we have Luffy also taking on the dream of Oden, to defeat Kaido and Orochi, etc. But it's not a coincidence that in this arc we have two characters to whom Ace made promises: Tama and Yamato. They've become part of Luffy's burden, because he inherited Ace's will. (That's one way Yamato fits in) * But we also have Yamato struggling under the burden of a will she does not want to inherit, her father's. He wants her to be imprisoned, literally chained to a will that is not her own. That's quite the burden, I'd say. But there's another will she would prefer to inherit, obviously: Oden's. I think in the conclusion of this arc, we'll see characters (Luffy, probably) say something about inherited will being something chosen, it has to be a burden you choose to bear, not one forced on you. Yamato will probably feature in this conclusion in a few ways: (1) as a character foil to Momonosuke. It's not a coincidence that they're the exact same age and each want to take on the will that was forced on the other. Momo was swept across the world and travelled with Luffy in order to fulfill his role as Oden's son, but he wants to be Shogun. He takes on Kaido's appearance (via his Devil Fruit). Yamato was chained to Onigashima, and wanted nothing more to escape and travel the world with Luffy, but Kaido wants her to become the Shogun. She takes on Oden's appearance. The arc will conclude with something about Yamato and Momo freely entrusting each other with the dreams of their fathers, or something. (2) as a feature in Luffy choosing to uphold Ace's will. By taking her with him and reaffirming a promise with Tama, we'll see Luffy choose to take on Ace's will. In this way, we'll see that what makes a will truly inherited isn't a bond of blood or destiny, it's a bond of friendship, trust, et cetera. Yamato's storyline will be used to punctuate that theme for Luffy and Momo, the actual central characters of this arc.
I feel like Yamato’s storyline is learning about inherited will and not having to actually be someone (Oden) to carry on their will/dreams.
Hannya, which Yamato’s mask is based on, are well known in Japanese theatrical stage culture for representing characters who are the physical manifestation of twisted female souls.
Yamato seems to be inspired by Oscar François de Jarjayes, from the shōjo manga The Rose of Versailles, who is a woman raised by her father as if she were a boy in order to succeed him as the commander of the Royal Guard at the Palace of Versailles.
an authors comment for chapter 945 oda talked about how he read rose of versailles and was surprised oscar was a woman
The Shogun must be a male of Seiwa Genji lineage according to Japanese history so this explains why she is referred to as son. Oda based Yamato on 2 people. 1) Yamato Takeru a crossdressing Japanese prince and 2) Oscar from Rose of Versailles. Yamato Takeru being the son of Emperor Keiko who crossdressed to kill his enemies. Oscar being a girl raised as a boy to succeed the throne. Oda is mixing Japanese folklore with Rose of Versailles to tell a story of Kaido trying to force his daughter to be the Shogun/a boy. Do you think I rip this from nowhere? Chapter 945 if I recall correctly on VIZ Oda is on the authors comments speaking on Rose of Versailles. Yamato wears a Hannya mask which originates from Noh theater and represents female obsession (Oden obsession) and I bet this arc has a theme of deliverance. Not just deliverance from physical chains but familial bonds as well. The people who refer to her as “he” miss the underlying themes the Shogun must be male and Kaido is probably upset he has no actual son. Yamato does not want to be the Shogun and referring to the last chapter Kaido is trying to tell her what her fate is. The Vivre Cards will not say (Male Heart) like in close reference to Kiku’s card and she will not come out and say “I am a man at heart!” She uses the pronoun boku which is ambiguous and abnormal which is in reference to the “Oden” funny delusional act she has going on. Coming chapters will reveal this more and more. Since the combination of the title card saying daughter -> the Hannya mask -> explosive cuffs and the Shogun theme it was clear she was being bruteforced into something.
Not trying to speak for everyone here, but to say people use "he" because they don't pick up on themes is simply not the case. People use "he/him" pronouns because so far in the story, that is how Yamato has made clear that he would like to be referred to and so people use he/him pronouns out of respect for those desires. I'm not trying to say at all that I disagree with the themes/connections you've mentioned, but to say that you've "cracked the code" and you know better than Yamato on how they should be gendered is disrespectful to them. It may well be the case that everything you said is true and that by the end of the arc Yamato will wish to be referred to with she/her pronouns, but like I said to just assume this before it actually happens is disrespectful. Imagine refusing to use he/him pronouns for a trans-man because you know that their father always wanted a son and assuming their desire to use these pronouns only exists to validate their fathers wishes. I'm not trying to draw a one to one equivalence with this example, I get that One Piece is a story where information does just exist but is introduced with a specific purpose, I just hope I can better explain why many people believe he/him are the correct pronouns to use for Yamato at this time. Frankly, I think the presence of Kiku as a trans-women in this arc might be odas way of setting up the exact scenario you mentioned with yamato while still making sure he doesn't come across as invalidating trans identities. Hopefully that makes sense. Again I'm not trying to be argumentative, only trying explain why many people believe it is more respectful to use he/him pronouns at this time for yamato DESPITE the themes you've mentioned.
Quick fact check: Oscar wasn't raised as a boy to succeed the throne, she was a raised as a boy to become commander of the royal guards
This might not be accurate as I'm just saying off the top of my head but in a way, Yamato might represent wano itself. She was chained up and abused by Kaido like he does to wano in a sense.
Yamato is literally old name of Japan, lol
Yamato by taking Oden legacy she is impersonating the man who's the main representation of wano to the world
On a larger scale we are fighting to save wano from kaido
On a individual scale Yamato who disguises as Oden who represents wano is fighting to save herself from kaido
It's like NAMI all over again
A girl who is representing an entire population and territory is fighting to save herself and the people and territory she represents from a fish that keeps her and her territory enslaved
Her not being part of the mainland is symbolic to Wano exactly lol, isolated from the other world and chained there by Kaido for decades. She, like the people of Wano, has this black and white perception of Oden that they blindly follow without looking into why he did what he did. Even now people are putting Momo on some pedestal worth dying for without understanding who he is, similar to their past expectations of Oden for his dad. Yamato is doing the same with her declaration of dying for him based solely on his dad and the stuff in the journal.
Yamato's development seems to fall in parallel to Momo. Momo had to deal with the expectations of being Oden's son and his people want him to be just like Oden they don't see Momonosuke Kozuki.
On the other hand Yamato similarly was thrust with a path set by Kaido her father but wants to be Oden this person who inspired Yamato to the point of worship that every action is posed with the question "what would Oden do."
The climax of both their arcs might be to just choose to be who they are and act as they would do not as their predecessors as they both could never be Oden for instance.
I sort of dislike how some people act like Yamato realizing not to “be oden” and Yamato joining the strawhats are mutually exclusive
if yamato does join the strawhats and is the 11th that would confirm the idea that yamato isnt trans she just cosplays as oden due to idolizing him if you believe the MFMM theory due to people noticing that in east blue the recruitment went zoro, nami, usopp, and sanji in grand line it was chopper, robin, franky and brook a male female male male .
jinbe is the 10th who joined in new world ( the male ) and it fits for him to be followed by the 11th a woman . ( so if yamato joins the strawhats and is the 11th ( meaning carrot doesnt join) yamato isnt trans
if yamato and carrot both join then yamato really is a transman
both okiku and yamato wore hannya masks
after okiku put on a hannya mask she revealed that she was a man in body but a woman in heart and a hannya mask represents female demon
yamato was introduced as kaidos son while in a hannya mask but after she took it off revealed she was his daughter
"Yamato" (大和やまと?), meaning "Great Harmony", is an ancient name for Japan (originating from the Yamato Province) and can can also refer to the Yamato period of Japanese history, which lasted into the 8th century. Relating to that, Yamato is the dynastic name of the ruling Imperial House of Japan and further refers to the dominant ethnic group of Japan, the Yamato people. Otherwise:
Yamato Takeru is a legendary Japanese prince of the Yamato dynasty, prominent in mythology.
Yamato is the name of a prominent WWII-era Japanese battleship.
Yamato nadeshiko is a phrase that refers to the idealized image of a Japanese female.
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I think that a very interesting point about Soren is that overall, he’s one of the Fire Emblem side characters that gets an entire character arc in the background of the main narrative. Obviously, having two games in which he gets to appear is already excellent, but out of all the returning characters, I’d argue he got the biggest arc - not role, but arc.
Thematically, a major aspect of said arc is the idea of acceptance, and it manifests in three different ways for him - desire for acceptance from Ike, initial lack of acceptance for others, and finally, acceptance of himself.
He starts out with none of the three aforementioned elements - he lacks acceptance from Ike, he lacks acceptance for others, notably the Laguz but also for most Beorc, and he lacks acceptance of himself, but by the end of Radiant Dawn, he is on the path on, or has already obtained, all three.
PART 1 - PoR and Ike’s acceptance
In Path of Radiance, a large part of his story, which features prominently in both his role in the story and in his supports, is acceptance from Ike. Soren both sees Ike as his sun and stars, as the most important person in his life, and fears complete rejection from him, due to being branded and having everyone in his past that cared for him abandon him because of that.
His Ike support especially demonstrates this conflict of desire for acceptance, and fear of rejection - in their B support, after telling Ike about his past, he immediately apologizes and leaves -
Soren: Huh? Oh… I apologize, Ike. I should not have made you listen to such nonsense…
Ike: Soren, it’s no nonsense! It’s awful! It’s the most terrible thing I’ve ever heard! Where did this happen? Was it in Begnion?
Soren: No… But, there’s more. I haven’t told you… About my parents… No, that’s enough. I’m sorry. Excuse me…
he’s unable to stay long enough for Ike to comment or say anything, because he fears the worst.
However, Ike does legitimately accept Soren - from the earliest moments of PoR, Ike has shown kindness and acceptance to anyone, and of course that extends to his closest friend.
Even when Ike expresses his support however, Soren can’t understand that - he’s someone who’s never had unconditional love and support in his life, so he immediately tries to undermine Ike’s.
Ike: So, you have laguz blood in your veins. So, you have a mark to prove it. So… What’s the problem?
Soren: What’s the problem…? Don’t you find me repugnant!? I work beside you, eat beside you. I’m nothing! I don’t belong anywhere! Doesn’t that sicken you?
Ike: No. It doesn’t change anything. You’re still you, Soren! You’re a capable officer of our army. And my friend. We can’t keep going unless you are with us.
However, Ike insists that he still cares for Soren, and accepts him, which leads to the final line in their support (that I’ll get back to in the end):
Soren: When the sage died, no one would help me. I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t find food. I was dying. You were the only one who helped. You and your father. That’s why you’re my friend. My…only friend.
It’s also important to note that Soren has only two support conversations - one of the fewest quantities in the game, with only Volke having less, and Stefan, Haar, Elincia and Geoffrey also having two. They’re mutually exclusive - either you get rank A with Stefan, or with Ike. And if you do the former, Stefan warns him that the Beorc around him will catch on and that he will lose the acceptance that he already has, and will have to leave. And that if he ever has to, he will be accepted in Grann Desert, once again touching on that same theme - that Soren needs acceptance.
PART 2 - RD and Soren’s acceptance of others
While in PoR, Soren is shown to be abrasive at best and cruel at worst towards the Laguz, in RD he is remarkably calm and accepting of them. While the NA version removed a scene of him growing closer to Ranulf, I think that Skrimir is the best example of Soren’s growth and acceptance.
Initially, he’s introduced as being everything Soren hates - he’s loud, arrogant (both of which are things he insulted Boyd for in PoR), overbearing, that completely disregards strategy, and is especially overly familiar :
Skrimir: Ah, here comes the great strategist! Don’t be so shy. Come sit next to me.
Soren: Not if you begged me, Skrimir.
On top of everything, he’s a Laguz - the species that, 3 years ago, he attacked on sight, even if Muarim and Lethe were comparatively a lot less grating for Soren.
And yet he’s rather civil to him - sure, he’s still relatively cold and reserved, but is willing to listen to, and try to reason with Skrimir,
Skrimir: What do we do next? We hit Begnion hard in the last battle. Surely we will use this opportunity to wipe out the enemy entirely?
Soren: Actually, it would be unwise to launch a new offensive now. I recommend we negotiate a peace treaty with Begnion.
demonstrating that Soren as a person has grown significantly, and that he’s a lot more open and accepting of those around him - even those that he would’ve hated in the past.
PART 3 - RD’s ending and Soren’s acceptance of himself
In the end, if you get Soren and Ike’s A support, and their final convo, Soren finally achieves a sort of catharsis - Ike finally remembers the long-ago bonding moment and fully, openly accepts and embraces Soren.
And it turn, Soren himself is able to find catharsis - for the first time, he is fully and completely honest with Ike about everything, and Ike in turn is fully understanding -
Ike: Soren… Don’t cry.
Soren: Don’t cry? What? I’m not crying…
Ike: Soren, you’re smart, but you’re no good when it comes to your emotions. Come over here.
He even gives him a hug, and reassures him.
And in turn, Soren can finally let go of all his doubts and fears with regards to Ike’s acceptance of him. Now, he and Ike are on the same footing and understand each other’s past and history and accept each other fully.
In leaving together for their journey, (if you have Ike and Soren’s final support), Soren is not only validated by Ike, but is also seen as the most important person to him - just as Ike is to Soren.
And he can finally go and “set off with the only person he had ever trusted” - validating his support of Ike, and finally ending Soren’s arc, where he is able to accept others, himself, and to be accepted by those around him.
#soren fire emblem#fire emblem radiant dawn#fire emblem path of radiance#skrimir fire emblem#Ike Fire Emblem#miss posts
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Why I hate people who spend their adult life arguing online;
1. Well it’s juvenile , I personally prefer to leave any and all pseudo intellectual social discourse in my 6th grade debating class...
2. You aren’t anyone important and not saying novel things, you are using people who have put information that is novel and trying to spin it into your own agenda.
3. Waste of time, fools will be foolish, and if you enjoy the discourse, toastmasters or academic debating would be more productive uses of time
4. You lack self insight
5. You are self aware and doing it due to your own egotistical, sadistic, cunning desires. (Trolls, deep fakes)
Why I never take anyone who loves to argue on menial topics seriously: (spiritually or mentally)
I am high iq and high eq. I am also “attractive by the conventional measures of society” I deal with the most pathetic and malicious idiots who cannot understand a woman who has aesthetic appeal, that can also hold a stimulating and intelligent conversation.
I don’t argue. I problem solve. Arguing online was faded out when I was 14 years old.
But people who are almost 40, ar still out there pretending that they are the most unique and authoritative source of blogging bullshit. When the world media and journalism is where we are today. The academic literature speaks a plethora more than an adult in the hamster wheel, unable to see they are playing checkers in a left vs right, design by social engineering and the think tanks of Tavistock, you play the part they put you to be.
A dialectic of irrational and repetitive arguments is never productive.
It lacks a solution or a higher order of resolution, why are you behaving to destroy when you are claiming to want to create a world better?
So unconscious and unexplained lack of self awareness in adults who are obviously insecure and ignorant becomes old quick.
I comprehend why it’s important but the level of the argument is basic, and been recycled 1000000 times.
Why am I writing this? Free speech is not free. If you can discourse over the same shit and never find a solution you are part of the same fucking problem.
How I know?
Life experience. Learning.
Love of learning and living and devouring the higher level of what if, how can we, let’s move into a better solution.
I have many years of experience that is beyond the understanding of most people and I have gone through things nobody understands.
One time I was a young teen, but was already too smart, too sassy, too aware and that left my life a wreck after I went too far.
I DID get expelled in the 11th grade. I’m no idiot, I am actually genius, by measures of conventional iq.
So I was academically talented without effort, not to boast, because I hated being smart.
But I did get the internet social discourse I needed to say; on things that we should be all knowing are social engineering in a designed dichotomy to divide and conquer.
I was in a program in high school called cum laude. I cannot recall the meaning. But we were advanced academics, not only skilled at learning but sports, extra curricular things like musicals, choir, crusade survivor camps (duke of Edinburgh), debating, tutoring/mentoring younger students & more. I won many awards without trying. Mostly for geography (social science), design tech, visual art & creative writing. I was learning university level things in year 8. And examining and analysis to debate in scholarly discourse about topics that were familiar when I was in 1-2 year of my bachelor degree. An example is philosophy, as this was mandated in the GT program. Smart is my sense of knowing how to balance the logical and the emotional. This is ONE percent of my life but one I did not follow through on and as a result I walk this path now, and I put up with the educated and intelligent “idiots” (like conformity, bullying, bitching kids in the same class) and refuse to stoop to low iq, low eq and low level idiots.
You waste time. I am not saying I am only exclusive to educated or academic professionals, that is not what this is about. This is about me being underestimated and undermined and never taken seriously because I get the most inhuman torment if I do start to speak my truth.
Lucky I found comfort in solitary rebellion. So. Let’s see what I am that is always going to be a work in progress but what my enemies forget all the time.
To remind you:
I am a born, intuitive empath, psychic and ancestral lineages of many esoteric paths play into my natural ability. I used to hate feeling, knowing and perceiving things that I could see happening, in my dreams, visions and “gnosis” before they happened. I felt powerless.
But now I know how to harness it, things change.
And yet still I have to sit back and observe, as I did for years in school, and then in the fucking shithole employment situation that was my consequence of 2 expulsions from schools. (They value conformity over fucking intelligence) I had a gang of kids in my last high school sign a petition to have me expelled and that is one example of how people in my life come to attack, hate, misunderstand and spit venom for no reason.
I never push that energy myself. But I call things as I see them. I am real , and my perception is primed to pierce the veil on those who lack authenticity, who are bullies, cunning, cruel, conformists, deep fakes, fraudulent, following orders for the sake of fear, or just narcissistic or psychopathic “organic portals” who carry out the agenda for the black lodge.
I have no issue if these people want to live a life away from me and what I protect. But when my sphere is crossed into on a repeated basis, I will study the situation in silence. I won’t speak of what I see, without objective and subjective factors weighed in a careful, cautious but not closed minded, way. See you and I are probably not the same because I’m the kind of human who always gives people the benefit of the doubt and believes that people are better, that is my detriment and my strength. I see the good and hope that others carry a genuine heart and soul. But my experience shows me that I am not wrong when I feel off, or intuitive feelings are ignored due to my “dismissal”.
When I find the truth, I always say, I knew I needed to listen to my heart and head.
That’s why I can never be broken, or betrayed, or backstabbed worse than before. It is always a learning lesson I am open to growing from.
I am always open to being wrong, or told how to be better, my flaws are on open display and I am not scared of that. I want to be more helpful to grow and nourish the people and places I interact with.
In my world, arguing online was a dying medium by my 18th birthday. For many reasons. But the enemy is a sucker for this divide and conquer, drama bred social and political bullshit that’s all just opinion and speculation. It creates a negative tone and teaches nothing of novelty or wisdom. It just shows how weak, insecure, paranoid, and self obsessed people who are too old for the high school bullshit, by miles, are. my enemies could even spit out the first longing to follow the death cult of the black lodge, I was already aware of what 95 % of you found out in 2020. I don’t mean to be pretentious or pompous, I’m not. I’m actually the most passionate, loving and open minded human I know. But the people who come into my spaces to play to prey. Imposters and the immoral, A siphoning sickness in a role to ruin, how could anyone do that but someone who is a soul-devoid parasite? That’s real fucking discourse. Let’s talk about morality, moral principles and how they are applied and actualised into the metacogition of your own microcosm.
Suggestions and solutions?
How about discourse on the metaphysics of mystic, magick, the mind and the method to mend the mundane world into a manifestation where a symbiotic system of mutually beneficial prosperity, peace, collaboration, creation & harmony can be lived on a daily basis?
How about solutions and sitting with your own shadow in the darkness to see your flaws.
how they only give me a free pass to watch the shit show. when push comes to shove and patterns that are seen in your behaviour, cyclically, are the key that unlocks the truth of anyone’s hidden motivation.
Why is deception and destruction never noted by the deceived, unless someone like me comes to break the wall of ignorance to say “hey this is the truth and it hurts and looks vile but fucking wake up”. No I don’t like the ripple impact this has but at the same time I am aw woman of strength. I will stand up for the real, authentic and genuine truth and speak my mind.
I don’t sugar coat this bullshit.
Nor will I indulge it.
Let alone be a person who lets it seep it’s tendrils into my life and what I love.
Not ever. Never.
As someone wise once said “despair ends, tactics begin”
You cannot claim any authentic path without putting your soul, blood and spirit to the test of facing your demons, slaying the darkness. I am not sure that comes with what I and others see these action and behaviour presenting to be.
I rarely write things like this, and only want to address this because i walk on a path of “rose and thorn”. My thorn will eventually slay whatever is a threat, a charlatan or a sheep in wolves clothing. By accident. Because what you are lacking is always looking to attack, I am always having to protect and defend my life from the evil.
I see you. I know the hidden hand x64. I am always open to forgiving people if they are sincere but will play reflection of the adverse if passive people are coming to what to me, is a beautiful and amazing thing, and to be acting as agents of sabotage? Shame on your lack of soul, and it’s lack of seeking to steal, stain and shit all over the things of substance, spirituality and sincerity will always be seen when I am the seer seeing the undertones.
So where is the moral compass?
Find yourself, and then you can find something real that is yours to be into and love. Maybe even this. But to fuck with what is real, while being fake, and following orders, is by far, fence sitting and fraudulent, insidious & infantile activity. Why not spend time looking inside to see why you are following this order from who for what? What is your genuine purpose? Soul mission? Higher self ? Or are you all still stuck in the love is the law is the law love under the will of the guy who wrote a book last century.
Fucking even Crowley lived his great work, and he has flaws and did things many would dispute to be “evil”. But he didn’t copy another clone from 100 years prior, following the mantra that someone else made up. That’s the stupid thing, the whole “do what thou wilt” was not do what you want but that is not a strong point for the sheep of the worst. I know as I see both sides, and as a child in the 90s I saw the dark, evil and insidious. To see that again, here, 3 decades later, playing coy but really carrying rancid intent.. is my call to commune what many will never see, because you all are complicit, and tell these fucking lies and divert productive progress by your stupid discourse. These people LOVE senseless debating. Semantics. Solutions, self awareness or seek a soul inside the empty cavern that the black lodge will set inside your sadistic serpentine, slimy soul.
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Is possible to even have a healthy relationship with a yandere? 🩸 🔪
Hey there. I’m going to go ahead and assume this is a question regarding fictional yanderes because that’s what this blog focuses on.
Now people who’ve read a little into this tumblr before know I tend to lean more towards the “romance turned horror” kinds of yandere stories where the yandere in question is definitely the antagonist. In those, yeah those won’t be healthy relationships being shown (I don’t call it horror for nothing).
Despite this, the answer to your question I’d actually say is: Yes.
Remember, you said “healthy,” not “normal.” There IS a difference. While yandere behavior can get a little strange and excessive, that behavior itself might not ALWAYS negatively impact the overall relationship. And yes, while there are plenty of yandere who definitely don’t exhibit healthy boundaries a relationship needs, it’s not impossible to adjust a yandere so that the relationship between them and their S/O is not only enjoyable, but also functional.
What is a healthy relationship first of all? Well it’s kind of odd for me to be answering this since most of my important relationships are more familial or platonic. But the same rules should apply here I think.
The participants in a relationship should:
- Have good communication
- Be there for each other
- Give healthy space when necessary
- Stand on equal footing (respect wise definitely)
- Be able to compromise
- Not harm one another mentally/physically intentionally
Some of those ideas kind of blend together but I think you get the idea. Now already just from that you can spot why yanderes can potentially be a bad suitor. We’ve seen yanderes who stalk, ignore/fight back against rejection, kidnap and straight up murder for their cause. Doesn’t really scream “dream boyfriend/girlfriend” in the most realistic sense.
The big thing to remember though is not all of the extremely negative behavior of a yandere CAN have is mutually exclusive to yanderes. Meaning, you don’t have to have a yandere character whose knife crazy or even all that threatening honestly.
One obvious thing to do is just tone down a yandere character. You can keep a lot of crazy lovesick stuff they do: take secret photos of their S/O, have a big shrine, talk endlessly or almost exclusively about their S/O, glare at the opposition (there is a BIG difference also between a character who has threatening thoughts vs. one that ACTS upon said threats), etc. Again, this certainly would make the relationship seem weird from the outside due to how enthralled the yandere is. But as long as the behavior there is not really too disruptive for either the S/O OR the yandere in their daily lives, it doesn’t necessarily make it bad.
If the behavior exhibited by the yandere doesn’t cause the S/O extreme mental stress or disrupt their daily routine (like school, work or even pastimes), then no harm no foul.
This may be because the S/O is unperturbed by the behavior, or actually is very into it. Of course, for a healthy relationship the S/O needs to reciprocate the yandere’s feelings. That’s super obvious to state I know, but I need to emphasize that because one of the biggest reasons a yandere can end up as the antagonist of a story is because the S/O doesn’t WANT to be with the yandere. There can be many reasons for that, but a rejected yandere can take a “no” very badly.
I should also mention that a receptive S/O ALONE is not enough to declare the relationship automatically healthy. There are people for instance who stay in a relationship with…well someone who they obviously shouldn’t. Hence why toning down some of the yandere’s behavior so they’re not outright dangerous for the S/O to be with is still a huge factor here.
Oh! I know it’s always common to first and foremost consider the S/O’s safety when we’re talking about yanderes. But just for fun I should also state it TECHNICALLY is possible for a yandere’s relationship with an S/O to be unhealthy more-so for the yandere rather than the S/O. Most people probably don’t even consider this (I don’t). But if for instance the yandere is the type of character that is just so incredibly focused on the needs and happiness of the S/O, their behavior may become self-destructive. For instance, they quit their job to follow the S/O around all day. They get extreme anxiety they can’t overcome whenever they’re apart from the S/O. Or they won’t EAT or SLEEP because they’re too lovesick to literally think about their own needs. Fun fact, that last one came to mind because I was watching a bunch of random episodes of “Archie’s Weird Mysteries” that I used to watch when I was younger. That’s probably the strangest reference I ever made, but that show is the only reason I even know what the heck Riverdale is supposed to be about. But yeah, there was an episode where one of the girls wanted to get Archie to love her more and it makes him so lovesick he literally starts neglecting his own health.
So yeah, not a topic tackled often, but a healthy relationship for a yandere and an S/O should be for both ends. If they’re well written characters, they should be able to stand a bit on their own when apart from the S/O.
In the event anyone was curious if you could have a healthy yandere relationship WITHOUT toning down the yandere…well I think that really depends on how an author writes the story and characters as a whole. With fiction, you can get pretty creative with the scenarios. Not just with the yandere, the S/O could be a rather “unique” character themselves. I don’t really have any good examples off the top of my head, but the relationship could be something where any other normal character wouldn’t work with the yandere, but something about the S/O makes them a perfect match. This may be due to their personality, backstory or even special abilities they have.
You can also set up outside conflicts that make the relationship with the yandere seem a lot more endearing than it normally would. Bringing up Future Diary (again), remember Yuki thought Yuno was initially cute but was rather unsettled by some of her behavior. If it was kept in the normal school life setting, he probably would have kept running away from her. But the main plot of Future Diary was a survival game that he was not ready for initially. Yuno’s dedication to him while there are other characters out for blood suddenly made Yuno GOOD for his health. It was safer for him to be with her, and then this gave the two an opportunity to actually bond overtime under these unusual circumstances.
It’s never a bad idea to give some time for the bond to grow. In a fictional story, the audience will have an easier time warming up to the characters as a couple if they’ve been able to see who they develop together.
Otherwise, you could start right off with the characters already in a relationship. I know I’ve seen some comedies where this is the case, and it’s always fun to see how the two characters interact in a daily routine.
That’s all I got for now. Hope that works!
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Wheel of Time liveblogging: Towers of Midnight Prologue (part 2)
Questions of morality and how to handle traps, with your hosts Graendal and Galad.
Well hello there, Graendal, fancy seeing you alive.
The goblet had been crafted with drops of blood caught in a ring pattern within the crystal.
I have a need.
I mean, I’d be drinking tea or maybe even hot chocolate out of that goblet rather than wine but that does nothing to change the fact that I need it. Villains, man. You can always rely on them for the aesthetics.
“We should be doing something” Aran’gar said
I’m not sure precisely why this is so absurdly funny to me, but it’s some combination of a) the real world being in quarantine right now, b) villains lounging in a villainous lair like ‘should we be… fucking shit up or something? Or can we really just take a moment to be All About the Aesthetic?’ and c) an oddly self-aware statement from a fictional character who realises that something is amiss if they’re not contributing to the plot.
Oh we’re still in Natrin’s Barrow, so this is before the er. Utter collapse of Rand’s moral scruples and near-destruction of the Pattern and associated fireworks.
Also, Aran’gar, when you fled the rebels, what the fuck gave you the idea that coming to Graendal as a refugee – alliance or no alliance – was a good plan? She will eat you for breakfast, and whether that’s literal or euphemistic probably makes no difference to the fact that ultimately, you will suffer for it.
Life was about feeling. Touches on your skin, both passionate and icy. Anything other than the normal, the average, the lukewarm.
I like this for the way it is both opposite to and yet weirdly the same as Semirhage’s perspective. The difference is mostly whether it is directed outwards or inwards.
And I also like it for the way it plays on how Graendal deals with subtlety versus ostentation. The way she so completely performs that ostentation and lack of subtlety and plays to the extremes, and it’s not entirely performative but it also serves the purpose of masking her capacity for great subtlety and control.
Listen. There’s a lot to dislike about Graendal, yes, but at the end of the day she fascinates me. She’s just such an intricate villain, for all that on the surface she could be played as scenery-chewing and flat. Because there’s something beneath that, and it all serves a purpose. She makes ‘all about the aesthetic’ into a legitimate strategy, without actually detracting from the aesthetic, and it’s just very… disturbingly cool.
Aran’gar is still trying to have a conversation as if she thinks she and Graendal are on the same level. How adorable.
“Excitement is best viewed from a distance,” Graendal said.
And yet life is about feeling, but somehow those are not mutually exclusive, and have I mentioned Graendal is fascinating to me?
I think… I know, I’m just rambling my way into this, but I think one of the things I enjoy most about her is that, for all that she has these different layers and apparent opposites and allows herself to be viewed one way when in reality there’s far more to it, none of it feels like pretence. It’s not like she’s putting on a false front, pretending to be totally absorbed in aesthetics and pleasure, because I think that part of her is genuine. But so is the scheming, and the love of order, and the subtlety. None of it is her pretending, but together it’s a more complex picture than most manage to grasp, and so they just see the surface level of it, and she’s happy to let them. But it’s different to crafting a mask – she’s not really hiding her true motives or her true self; people just may not be able to piece together exactly what that is. Because she’s a rather complicated person, for all that she seems simplistic in her over-the-top presentation.
Is it terrible that I would quite like her to survive this scene?
Wait what she can use the True Power? She’s using the True Power? Just beware the lifestyle inflation that goes with a promotion, Graendal.
And there were some weaves that could only be crafted by the True Power.
So speaking of the True Power… here’s the thing. Rand’s use of it was spectacular, and played such a perfectly exquisite role in his descent last book, but it doesn’t feel like that’s the end of it. That’s not the sort of bomb you drop just once for effect; those are the sorts of plot elements that come back. So… I’m curious. I have theories. Which I’ve gone into elsewhere so I’ll leave that for now.
My other immediate thought here is that Compulsion woven from the True Power and wielded by Graendal is a terrifying concept and I sort of want to see it because I’m a terrible human.
But seriously, it’s like the Domination Band in the hands of Semirhage. Sometimes you just want to give a villain their perfect tool and set them loose to wreak beautiful havoc.
(What can I say? I appreciate competence in all its forms).
Whatever the Creator could build, the Dark One could destroy.
Except the whole idea is balance, so that goes…both ways somehow. Not quite sure where I’m going with this but it’s certainly somewhere.
Meanwhile Graendal’s just using the True Power to taunt Aran’gar by almost literally poking her and saying ‘neener neener neener’ and honestly, fair.
Aran’gar and Delana began to exchange affections on the chaise.
Why is this so fucking hilarious to me?
Like okay, sit on the sofa, and one… two… three… go!
I don’t even know, but every time I look at that sentence I start laughing. Maybe it’s just that it’s such an obvious… ‘this is painfully awkward and I can’t write anything more detailed but also it’s happening on-screen so I can’t just pan to the fireplace please send help immediately, yours sincerely, Brandon Sanderson’.
Like. ‘And then sex happened but let’s just avert our eyes, shall we?’
Aran’gar continued her pleasures
I’m DYING. The awkward of writing this just bleeds through the page and it’s. Just. Kind of perfect. And honestly I sympathise. Like this genuinely captures the mood I feel whenever sex scenes turn up in movies or TV or whatever. Not awkwardness, precisely, but just a sense of like ‘okay… we’re doing this now… and we’re still doing this… um… *starts looking around the room for anything interesting*… still exchanging affections I see… ah okay good and now the scene resumes’.
Is that TMI? I feel like it’s almost the opposite of TMI but whatever, moving on.
More importantly, an alarm is going off, and Graendal sees no reason to let that interrupt Aran’gar getting off, so she just leaves.
Ah. Ramshalan. So we are indeed doing this scene from the other side. This ought to be… fun. I did wonder what it would look like from Graendal’s side, especially with Rand desperately trying to do his how-do-you-defeat-someone-smarter-than-you thing. And I’m very curious as to the outcome. Because there would be a certain beautiful awfulness in all that power and destruction, that force of light, not even achieving its aim, in the futility of catastrophe.
Wow, Ramshalan really is… a complete idiot.
But Graendal is not.
Best to be careful. Best to flee. And yet…
She hesitated. He must know pain… he must know frustration… he must know anguish. Bring these to him. You will be rewarded.
Oh, he has known those. He has known precious little else in the last two years, honestly. Though Semirhage played a more recent and telling role in that.
And Graendal’s hesitation, because for all her capacity, she is controlled, as are the rest of the Chosen and Friends of the Dark, by a selfishness none of them can quite overcome.
“Does that Aes Sedai of yours know Compulsion?”
Aran’gar shrugged. “She’s been trained in it. She’s passably skilled.”
“Fetch her.”
Wow, for half a second there I thought they were talking about Egwene and was like ‘okay wow there’s one I definitely did not see coming’ but obviously it’s Delana.
Which means that the Compulsion Rand had Nynaeve detect… the Compulsion he used like a canary in a coal mine, the Compulsion whose vanishing he took as evidence of Graendal’s death, was never Graendal’s to begin with.
What an elegant move. Simple and yet perfect.
Also she can apparently see through the eyes of a dove. That’s… a new one. And don’t think I missed you using a dove, symbol of peace, for this.
The world as she saw it and a shadowed version of what the bird saw.
And I see what you did there, too.
But she’s using a dove to serve as her eyes. Not a raven or a rat but a dove, the symbol of light and peace, being used as a servant of the Shadow. Just as Rand, standing on that ridge and wielding a great force of Light, Rand, the champion of the Light, serving the Shadow’s aims even as he never turns from the side of the Light. I love it.
And yeah, she’s using Delana to craft the Compulsion. Graendal may not know exactly what Rand is planning, but she knows he’s planning something, and so she takes precautions. Which Rand knew she would, but for all his care to not underestimate her…
Would he attack? No, he wouldn’t harm women. That particular failing was an important one.
Yet at the same time she’s underestimating him.
Or rather, neither is precisely underestimating the other; they’re both just… thinking along the lines of what they perceive the other to be, and those lines are close but not quite accurate. I love watching these kinds of games play out, where it’s about thinking several moves ahead, move and countermove, trying to know what the opponent will do and ultimately it comes down to a… layering, almost, and the victor is the one who just happens to have laid the last layer. Or annihilated the gameboard; whichever comes first.
Bring him agony. Graendal could do that.
I… yeah.
Because at this point, Rand believes (believed, but relative to the timeline of this scene it’s present tense and argh this is why messy timelines frustrate me; do you know how annoying the grammar gets?) he is beyond agony, beyond feeling of any kind. He has made himself into ice and steel and cuendillar (heartstone, heart of the stone, pray that the heart of stone remembers tears…) and so he believes himself unfettered, capable of any atrocity because he has walled away the agony that would hold him back.
But for all that, what he does at Natrin’s Barrow… for all that he doesn’t let himself feel any of it, on some level it does cause him agony, and drives him further on that path that leads eventually to Tam and Ebou Dar and Dragonmount.
So really, you could say that Moridin’s statement, that ‘he must know anguish, he must know pain of heart’ is true from the perspective of the Light as much as it is from the perspective of the Shadow.
Because it is that anguish that drives him to serve the Shadow even while acting in the name of the Light… but it is also that anguish that leads him, ultimately, to the epiphany that brings him back truly to the Light he serves.
And it is letting himself feel that anguish, along with everything else he tried to push away, that allows him to do that. He must know anguish, yes, because he must learn no longer to push it aside, to allow himself to feel again, and in doing so he can be the champion of the Light as he is meant to be.
It's just a fun double meaning. Or manifold meaning, even. And I sort of wonder if Moridin knew that. It’s the kind of irony he might appreciate, to the extent that he appreciates anything.
“Something convoluted. I want al’Thor and his Aes Sedai to find the touch of a man on the mind.” That would confuse them further.
In this case she’s actually overestimating Rand (&co), but in its own way that’s just as dangerous as underestimating, in this game of each trying to outthink and outmanoeuvre one another before making their moves.
This whole seeing through a dove’s eyes is lovely on a symbolic level but does sort of strain my understanding of how magic works in this world. Ah well, we can handwave it as ‘True Power shenanigans’.
I suppose it’s not really any weirder than balefire or wolf-telepathy or Compulsion or being able to wander through someone else’s dream. Weird, where we draw our suspension of disbelief lines, and how it varies from series to series or system to system. Like, seeing through an animal’s eyes isn’t exactly uncommon in the genre; I just didn’t quite expect it in WoT specifically. No idea why.
The dove flapped out of the window. The sun was lowering behind the mountains
A symbol of peace flying into a darkening sky, a fading of the Light! (Oh, you thought I would let up on the atmospheric imagery when Sanderson took over? How naïve).
There was light up ahead. It was faint, but the dove’s eyes could easily pick out light and shadow
I MEAN. I see what you did there and I appreciate it.
I still sort of can’t believe Graendal was actually watching that whole time. It feels almost like cheating. Then again Rand obliterating half the Pattern also could be considered cheating, depending on which game we’re playing so there’s that.
I think for me it doesn’t quite cross the line into unbelievability, but some foreshadowing would have been nice for the whole seeing-through-the-eyes-of-a-dove thing. And I suppose there is some, in that we know that ravens and rats are ‘spies for the Dark One’, so maybe it’s on me for not realising that was an actual tool that the Dark One’s other servants may be able to use. But it just didn’t really seem set up that way, so I’m a bit on the fence.
The part that does work about this is that it’s Graendal being very, very good at the games she plays, just as Rand was afraid of. He knew she was clever, knew she would very likely see through any plan or strategy he created, and in a way she kind of… has. Or rather, she’s made use of something he didn’t account for, for all that his plan was also clever.
Al’Thor’s tame Aiel
There’s an excellent sort of irony in that phrasing, from one who lived in a time when the Aiel truly were nonviolent servants of the Aes Sedai.
[Nynaeve] would have to die; al’Thor relied upon her; her death would bring him pain.
Don’t you dare. It’s fine, her defeat of Moghedien was a perfect warm-up.
And after her, al’Thor’s dark-haired lover.
You’re forgetting his red-haired lover… and his sun-haired lover… but sure, let’s take Rand’s love life one at a time. That’s…fair.
He acted the same now as he had during her Age; he liked to plan, to spend time building to a crescendo of an assault.
Well, I mean, in this case, you are not wrong.
He’d brought that with him? It was nearly as bad as balefire.
About that.
Ah. And now she sees what his plan was. Hey, when Graendal thinks you’re clever, you should definitely take it as a compliment.
But it also means Graendal’s off for an impromptu holiday – but not before leaving Aran’gar and Delana shielded so that Rand’s plan will appear to succeed. Clever and ruthless and listen, I love her. I know, I know. I don’t know why I’m like this either.
She struggled to dismiss the gateway, and caught one glimpse of the horrified Aran’gar before everything behind was consumed in beautiful, pure whiteness.
The gateway vanished, leaving Graendal in darkness.
I just love the way light and dark (and gateways, actually) are played with in both iterations of this scene. Rand leaving the warm light of the gateway behind, crossing that threshold into a darkening sky. The way he is shadowed, his face in shadow, his eyes in shadow, just before he becomes a blinding, searing, awful-in-its-beauty form of pure Light with the potential to destroy the world. An enemy of the Shadow, yet surrounded by it even as he becomes light.
And now we almost bookend that, with Graendal leaving behind that white light of destruction, crossing back over a threshold and away from that scene, but she is of the Shadow and so while Rand’s gateway led him away from a warm light, this one takes her into the protection of darkness.
Balescream? That’s… a word.
A moment when creation itself howled in pain.
At the actions of the Light’s champion. The Creator’s champion. He must know anguish, and he has. And the Dragon is one with the Land, and the Land is one with the Dragon, and so it is only fitting that the Land knows that anguish as well. The entirety of creation sharing in the pain of near-undoing, brought on by but also embodied by Rand, the Dragon, its Champion, even as he embodies that Light by becoming it in that scene where he appeared more light than man.
This was a disaster.
No, she thought. I live.
And so we come to the question: do the ends justify the means, if they fail to achieve them?
It’s something WoT has played with before: Perrin torturing the Shaido and ultimately not getting any information from them comes to mind. This is just… on an even larger scale. Is the annihilation of a fortress and everyone in it, and almost the world around it, justified if it allows him to kill one of the Forsaken? If so, is it justified even if that is merely the intent, regardless of whether it succeeds or fails? What determines that justification, or lack thereof? Or is it unwarranted no matter the outcome, because the cost is too high?
(I am reminded, suddenly, of Rand in TFoH thinking that Moiraine’s apparent death and Lan’s departure was ‘a high price to pay for Lanfear’).
I just love these questions of morality and of where lines are drawn or should be drawn, precisely because they are so open-ended. And Rand’s… well, in a way it’s not even complete failure; he does kill Aran’gar if not Graendal, but that almost plays into it as well because it’s an unintended consequence. It’s not what he set out to do.
So then we add ‘if he did this to kill a specific one of the Forsaken, and she escapes but he happens by accident to kill another, does that end justify those means?’ But his failure to kill Graendal leaves that question so much more ambiguous: as if the narrative itself hesitates to fully justify or fully condemn his actions. Instead, it lets you ask yourself that question. Whereas if he had succeeded in killing her… the question can certainly still be asked, and that would still be very much part of the point, but it helps weight the scales a bit if you can say ‘well, it worked’. Whereas this… it’s entirely up to you. Was it worth it?
*
From Graendal to Galad? That’s a pivot.
Oh, but I love this image of Galad, the purest of the white knights, untarnished and untouchable, literally mired in a swamp.
Bitemes buzzed in the muggy air. The stench of mud and stagnant water threatened to gag him with each breath
Sometimes, you use atmosphere to highlight aspects of a character. Rand stepping out of a gateway into shadow and darkness. Every word that’s ever been written about Dragonmount. And then sometimes you place a character in an environment that is their precise opposite, and in that juxtaposition highlight those defining traits but also…push against them, I suppose. It’s a great way of showing a conflict of some kind. Galad is now the Lord Captain Commander of the Children of the Light, who are themselves corrupted. And he is fighting that corruption because it is his antithesis, but it’s so present and oppressive around him, and it makes for such an excellent contrast.
Miserable though this as, this route was the best way.
Yeah, see, I know you mean that literally, Galad, but it sort of illustrates my point. His task – redeeming the Whitecloaks, unless I massively miss my guess – is not going to be an easy one. Leading them right now can’t be pleasant. But it’s the best way to see them through this, to do the right thing. And we all know that’s what Galad is all about.
Oh, he’s going to take on Asunawa? First Valda and then Asunawa and damn it I never wanted to like Galadedrid Damodred.
Here and there the sickly greys and greens were relieved by a bright burst of tiny pink or violet flowers clustering around trickling streams. Their sudden colour was unexpected, as if someone had sprinkled drops of paint on the ground.
It was strange to find beauty in this place.
Beauty, yes, but subtlety? Hell no. But – I know I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again – I don’t care that this isn’t subtle. I love the way atmosphere and imagery can be used to this effect. Mired in a swamp with an unpleasant task to do and leading a corrupted force, but there are surprising moments of beauty and colour and promise.
His horse is called Stout and for some reason that amuses me.
This place, with its stench and biting insects, would try the best of men.
You don’t say.
And where Valda – the Lord Captain Commander before Galad – had turned out to be a murderer and a rapist.
So I mean, at least the bar is set pretty low for you there, Galad.
‘Damodred,’ Dain said softly, their boots squishing in mud, ‘perhaps we should turn back.’
NO BACK ONLY FORWARD.
CAN’T REMAKE THE PAST MUST CREATE A FUTURE.
Which Galad pretty much echoes only, you know, more eloquently.
‘But this swamp,’ Bornhald said, glancing to the side as a large serpent slid through the underbrush. ‘Our maps say we should have been out of it by now.’
‘Then surely we are near the edge.’
‘Perhaps,’ Dain said […] ‘Unless the map is in error.’
SYMBOLISM THICKER THAN THE SWAMP. I love this, I really do. I’m just laughing through this entire set of descriptions but this is just so perfectly ‘I Don’t Think You’re Only Talking About The Swamp There, Boys’ and neither of them quite realise it and it’s excellent.
Galad stepped off to the side, climbing a small hill.
While his half-brother is climbing an enormous mountain. Step it up, Galad.
Oh he’s giving an Inspiring Speech.
‘But it is on the deepest nights when light is most glorious.’
Unless it’s Choedan Kal balefire in which case… well okay, in fairness, that was also glorious, for a certain definition of the word.
‘We are hunted by those who should love us, and other pathways lead to our graves.’
Then maybe you should be worthy of their love. As for pathways leading to your graves, you know what they say about the paths of glory, right?
‘We will face this test with heads held high.’
That’s the core of it, really. It’s about choosing to fight, and knowing why you fight. It’s Rand’s epiphany in miniature. That this is going to fucking suck, but they’ll face it not because they have to but because they’re fighting for something, and because they choose to face this.
Byar wants to take a detour via the White Tower for a bit of petty destruction on their way to the Last Battle and Galad’s like nah we kind of need magic on our side. Credit where it’s due, I suppose.
‘but the Children of the Light will be leaders at the Last Battle.’
I mean, you might have to queue for that particular role, but I suppose it’s good to have ambitions.
Oh, he’s not planning to take on Asunawa, because sometimes retreat really is the better part of valour, especially when ‘retreat’ in this case is ‘turn towards a much larger battlefront for the future of the entire world’. Again, fair. And hey, look at that, Galad’s learning to prioritise.
A dead forest with sickly moss and a river full of corpses? Which battle was this? It sounds almost like the Blight, but they’re in approximately the entirely wrong place for that. Perrin’s attack on Malden, maybe? Or Tylee’s force being ambushed by Trollocs?
Galad set his jaw. ‘Can this be forded?’
‘It’s shallow, my Lord Captain Commander,’ Child Barlett said. ‘But we’ll have to watch for hidden depths.’
Not to mention hidden MEANINGS. *Finger guns*
I’m so sorry.
He hiked up his trousers as far as he could
How scandalous.
Likely a village upstream had been attacked for its food.
I think perhaps a village upstream was attacked for its Faile, but I could be wrong.
The ground is uneven! Footing is uncertain! A misstep could mean death! No additional meanings to be found here, none at all…
‘Burn those clouds. I can never tell what time it is.’
‘Four hours past midday,’ Galad said.
In which Galad has taken the Keen Mind feat. (And in which yes, I am a total fucking nerd).
Trom’s like are you sure Andor’s a good idea and Galad’s like it’s fine I have a summer home there.
Light send that Elayne held the Lion Throne. Light send that she had escaped the tangles of the Aes Sedai, though he feared the worst. There were many who would use her as a pawn, al’Thor not the least of them. She was headstrong, and that could make her easy to manipulate.
Galad, when this is all over, you and your sister need to have a talk. And you and Gawyn both need to stop underestimating her.
‘To abandon the Children now, after killing their leader, would be wrong.’
Trom smiled. ‘It’s as simple as that to you, isn’t it?’
‘It should be as simple as that to anyone.’
Galadedrid ‘what do you mean, morality is complicated’ Damodred, everyone. And this is why he continues to by turns bore and infuriate me, despite all his damn then he did dance and his fucking all his grace, turned in an instant to fluid death and fighting Valda in efforts to make me like him. I will NOT.
‘Even if we have to make alliances with the Dragon Reborn himself, we will fight.’
Yeah about that. Also I desperately want to see what happens when he learns about their, uh, relationship. Then again, having grown up in the mess that is the Damodred-Trakand family, maybe it wouldn’t even be a surprise. ‘Oh, another somewhat dysfunctional familial relationship? Yeah, sure, add it to the pile.’
Okay seriously what is with the trees here? We are way too far south for the Blight but the fact that they’re dead and fuzzed with something malignant has been brought up three times now and we all know the rule of threes in foreshadowing.
No, even his memorisation of maps will not endear me to Galad. Nor his ‘pain can be dealt with’. I refuse.
Oh look at that, it’s an ambush.
So about that whole not wanting to face Asunawa…
This march through the swamp had been suggested by his scouts. Galad could see it now; it had been a delaying tactic
And also, you know, symbolic. The traitorous scouts, loyal to the Whitecloaks under Asunawa – the corrupted Whitecloaks, those who ostensibly stand for the Light but whose deeds represent anything but – trying to drag Galad, the white knight and redeemer, through the swamp even as he tries to bring them to somewhere better, to what they should be.
Oh he’s going to try to talk to Asunawa. That’ll end well.
Asunawa was not smiling. He rarely did.
Sorry Asunawa, but Demandred’s pretty much got the market cornered on that one, and he carries it far better than you.
Oh hey, two leaders of rebel factions facing each other down? A parallel drawn between two entities – Whitecloaks and Aes Sedai – who believe themselves enemies.
‘Surely you would not ignore the rules of formal engagement?’ Galad said.
Because surely everyone is as lawful-good as you, Galad. There’s a belief that will cause you nothing but pain. But please, proceed.
And now Asunawa’s calling him Darkfriend, and this really is playing out as a parallel, of sorts, to Elaida against Egwene.
Asunawa hesitated. Naming seven thousand of the Children as Darkfriends would be ridiculous
First (semantic) blow to Galad.
‘I am no Darkfriend.’ Galad met Asunawa’s eyes.
‘Submit to my questioning and prove it.’
Oh.
That uh… is a… not entirely unappealing option, from my own perspective as a reader who enjoys far too much seeing characters put through hell, especially if they do so defiantly or as a sacrifice and anyway my point is I would not be opposed to this.
It's just that Galad, for all that he is Not My Type, is the type of character who could carry torture well. I’m just saying.
‘Tell me, do the Children of the Light surrender?’
Golever shook his head. ‘We do not. The Light will prove us victorious.’
I have to appreciate Galad’s approach here: taking the very principles of the Whitecloaks – as they are meant to be – and using them as weapons against Asunawa. Because it is, in a way, the very epitome of fighting fair. He doesn’t strike, doesn’t threaten, doesn’t even really argue. He lets Asunawa’s men, and the Whitecloaks’ own doctrine, make his arguments for him.
‘You see that I am in a predicament. To fight is to let you name us Darkfriends, but to surrender is to deny our oaths. By my honour as the Lord Captain Commander, I can accept neither option.’
In which Galad fucking Damodred catches everyone else in his moral dilemma of two things that are right, yet opposite. It is, for his character, almost annoyingly perfect.
‘Do you deny that you yourself watched me face Valda in fair combat, as prescribed by law?’
Okay okay okay you know what I love? I love that he’s fighting Asunawa, the leader of the Questioners, with questions.
Because Asunawa isn’t asking any. He’s making accusations and threats, and Galad is parrying them with questions. To Asunawa, to those who stand by him. He arms himself with questions and lets the answers make his point and that? Is brilliant.
‘But I would not call that fight fair. You drew on powers of the Shadow; I saw you standing in darkness despite the daylight, and I saw the Dragon’s Fang sprout on your forehead.’
I feel like there’s a missed opportunity in Galad’s entire character: what if he could channel? That would be so full of interesting potential. Both as an internal conflict, because how would he reconcile being a man who could channel with his utter certainty about doing what is right, but also for his entire role. The leader of the Children of the Light, who hate the ‘witches’ perhaps more than the Shadow itself…
Ah well.
‘Tell me. Is the Shadow stronger than the Light?’
Powers of the Shadow? No. Galad fights with powers of rhetoric.
But again, he’s just asking questions. Perfectly crafted questions to illustrate his point, but he’s still just asking questions of a Questioner and letting the Whitecloaks’ beliefs show him to be the one who truly holds to them. What a play.
‘You have no rights as a Darkfriend! I will parley no more with you, murderer.’ Asunawa waved a hand, and several of his Questioners drew swords.
Because they cannot face Galad’s questions. Galad asks, and they reply with swords. Because Asunawa cannot continue to hear them. He represents everything they should be, and they cannot face it, cannot let themselves recognise it, and so the draw swords and everything about this is excellent.
Asunawa would win a battle, but if Galad’s men stood their ground, it would be a costly victory. Both sides would lose thousands.
‘I will submit to you,’ Galad said. ‘On certain terms.’
You know who he reminds me of here? Loath as I am to admit it? Egwene. Facing an enemy who should be an ally, and fighting not for victory against them but for the entity they both should represent. Fighting for the cause, rather than fighting against the person. Willing even to submit, if it will bring unity and spare bloodshed. ‘I wish the Tower had a great Amyrlin in you’, Egwene said to Elaida. Neither fought for pride or for ego or for leadership – or at least, none of those things were the sole aim. Instead, they are fighting to make an organisation that should stand for the Light but has fallen into corruption and division into what it should be, what it always should have been.
And I do sort of wonder – I can’t even believe I’m saying this but HERE WE ARE – why Egwene ends up with Gawyn and not Galad after all.
‘You swear – before the Light and the Lords Captain here with you – that you will not harm, question, or otherwise condemn the men who followed me.’
There is one very glaring exception in that protection, Galad. I… assume this is intentional and I’m way more here for it than I should be. Carry on.
‘You cannot hinder the Hand of the Light in such a way! This would give them free rein to seek the Shadow!’
‘And is it only fear of Questioning that keeps us in the Light, Asunawa?’
QUESTIONING THE QUESTIONER. I’m still just not entirely over this as a rhetorical strategy – asking questions as a form of attack, sure, but it has that extra layer of being a tactic against the Questioners that just. Really hits me right in my appreciation for narrative symmetry.
‘The Dragon Reborn walks the land.’
‘Heresy!’ Asunawa said.
‘Yes,’ Galad said. ‘And truth as well.’
Oh man, that is a line. He will deny the accusations that he is a Darkfriend, but he does not deny this. Does not deny that it is heresy. But that does not make it a lie.
And Galad can accept that: can accept that even heresy must be faced, if it is the right thing to do. Heresy must be faced and accepted, if it is true. What cannot be changed must be endured, and Galad is… oddly, perhaps, not one for denial. He doesn’t try to turn from that truth, no matter what he may feel about it.
‘If we fight, we will kill good men, Child Bornhald,’ Galad said, without turning. ‘Each stroke of our swords will be a blow for the Dark One. The Children are the only true foundation that this world has left. We are needed. If my life is what is demanded to bring unity, then so be it.’
It is so very like Egwene. So very like what she said to the Aes Sedai who supported her and opposed her alike. They are not fighting for power; they are fighting because they see what is needed – and if their death rather than their ascendance can bring that, they will face that just as willingly as the responsibility of leadership.
I also had to smile a bit at the statement that the Children are the only true foundation – because that, too, echoes the Aes Sedai. If the White Tower dies, hope dies. Neither is strictly true because neither is the only force for the Light out there… but in a way that kind of conviction is needed. They just also need to maybe accept that they have some allies. Or should, at least.
WAIT WHAT ASUNAWA IS ACCEPTING THIS OFFER? OH. OKAY.
‘Take him,’ Asunawa snapped.
Yeah I’m here for it.
‘Inform them that I have taken the false Lord Captain Commander into custody, and will Question him to determine the extent of his crimes.’
Look, Galad’s far from a favourite character but there is something about him that suggests he would suffer rather beautifully and I am so sorry.
‘Return to our men; tell them what happened here, and do not let them fight or try to rescue me. That is an order.’
So very, very like Egwene here. Which almost irritates me because Egwene is one of my favourites and Galad is Not, but I have to give Galad some credit: he has made a truly valiant effort in the last few books.
Oh and just…straight to the torture. Cool. This is fine.
One forced Galad to the ground, a boot on his back, and Galad heard the metallic rasp of a knife being unsheathed.
Turns out there are two situations in which I like Galad Damodred. The first: then he did dance, all his grace turned in an instant to fluid death. The second: …this.
Also now he and Rand can have some quality fraternal bonding over their shared experiences with torture. It’ll be fun!
‘I am not a Darkfriend,’ Galad said, face pressed to the grassy earth. ‘I will never speak that lie. I walk in the Light.’
That earned him a kick to the side, then another, and another. He curled up, grunting. But the blows continued to fall.
Finally, the darkness took him.
How fitting, and awful, to follow his utter defiance here – the one thing he does deny, the one thing he does not turn into a question and the one thing he will not surrender: he is not a Darkfriend – with darkness taking him.
It’s also – again, my deepest but not entirely sincere apologies here – very much a good look on him.
Alright, I’ll see myself out.
Next (ToM prologue pt. 3)
Previous (ToM prologue pt.1)
#galad keeps finding ways to push very specific buttons of mine#and i'm mad about it#Wheel of Time#neuxue liveblogs WoT#Towers of Midnight
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What are your top 5 MHA characters?
I love to talk about the reasons why I love the characters I love. If you ever ask want to ask me who my faves are for a series feel free to send me an ask.
# 1 The Future King - Shigaraki Tomura
Shigaraki is the character who I talk about the most so the fact he is my favorite is probably honest. With each of these characters I am going to elaborate one aspect of them that makes them a fave for this series. For Shigaraki, my favorite thing about him is not that he’s a bastard, but that he’s a wannabe bastard.
Shigaraki wishes he could be the kind of person that All for One is, who controls everything, who crushes people in his hands, who feels nothing and wants for everything. Shigaraki ultimately will always fall short of All for One the more he strives to be like him, and that’s what I love about his character. Ultimately, he’s a child throwing a self destructive tantrum.
The greatest thing about Shigaraki is how much he sucks, and how visceral his failures are. Everything he does explodes in his face in the most disastrous way possible. Even when he succeeds, he invites another worse fall for himself. When he manages to kidnap Bakugo succesfully, not only does Bakugo have no interest at all in becoming a villain, but the heroes track down his location and he loses All for One after that. He exeriences what can only be referred to as “fuck up cascades”. The point is through watching Shigaraki struggle harder than any character in the manga you get a much deeper connection to him. Shigaraki fights in the mountains with no food or water for a month until he goes half insane, and then it switches back to the heroes and they’re all having a fun christmas party and wearing santa outfits.
All for One is a king who basically exists to be the villain. He’s stopped being a person and only exists in the role of villain he assigns himself. Shigaraki is so desperate to kill the idea that he’s a person, that he feels anything other than an urge to destroy. The more he suppresses himself though, the more he ends up lashing out again. He’s so undeniably human and in paint that it’s impossible for me not to feel for him. He wants to grow up into All for One so bad, but he’s never going to be AFO he can only be the terrible child that he is.
#2 Himiko Toga - A Normal Girl
The main villain trio have always been my top three favorite characters, and the dynamic I’ve been most invested in. Himiko emobides why I tend to gravitate towards villains. They are allowed to be themselves more than protagonists tend to be, because protagonists usually have to be relatable to the audience in some way. Himiko is the most well written female character in My Hero Academia. She’s also a weird serial killer. Somehow these two facts are not mutually exclusive.
In a series where most of the female characters are like one of three “nice girl” personalities, and are at all times cute or presentable Himiko gets to fight right in the center and covered in blood. The reason I like villains so much is because they own their flaws so much. Himiko is half insane and nobody else can understand her, and she already knows that.
Yet, Himiko is on this self destructive quest to be true to herself that makes her fight along with the rest of the League of Villains. There’s a lot of ideas present in Himiko’s character, and because she’s a villain she gets to be selfish and explore those ideas. I’m not trying ot make some kind of point here, I just like how messy and lopsided Himiko is. She doesn’t know what she wants, she’s continually running away from everything, she’s so so desperate for some kind of love. She’s independent, but also needy as hell. She exists in her own little world, and yet at the same time she’s vary aware of the world around her. I like that she’s hard to understand, and someone you cannot possibly accept either. Himiko just wants to be herself, no matter how ugly or grotesque that self is.
#3 Dabi - Self Immolation
Yes, a lot of what I like about Dabi is actually what he might be if he turns out to be Touya. At the same time Horikoshi’s writing is not subtle at all, and you can infer a lot of his character based on what little we have.
One of my favorite characters are those who are motivated by some deep scar to burn everything around them, and don’t care if they themselves are burned up in the fire as well. Dabi strikes me as that kind of byronic hero. A self destructive person barely holding on, and yet his emotions burn so much he has to act on them.
I like the idea that Dabi himself is aware that Touya is long dead and he looks like some kind of sewn up corpse acting on Touya’s desires. I love the idea that Dabi is aware himself that he’s slowly going crazy but keeps pushing himself anyway, because otherwise why did he burn half of his body up to reach this point? The fact that he isolates himself from others and keeps secrets when the league would obviously help him kill Endeavor if he wanted them to, shows how committed Dabi is to his act of self destruction. Either the world will burn or he will. I find those kind of sentiments deeply moving in characters.
#4 Hawks - Pride Comes Right Before the Fall
I adore Hawks for the same reasons I adore Dabi. The tragedy surrounding both of their characters are so similiar and complementary I basically consider them a set.
Hawks is always putting on a happy face when he’s more miserable than anyobdy else. He’s always pretending to be carefree when he’s more burdened than anybody else. Hawks is losing himself slowly and smiling all the while because he thinks this is what he wants to do.
He’s interesting because in traditional tragic fashion, his good qualities, his total selflessness towards others, and how observant he is of other people’s needs and desires, are what drive him completely to ruin. People are going to pluck every single one of Hawks’ feathers out until he cannot fly anymore as he keeps letting himself be used again and again.
#5 - Aizawa Shota - Wannabe Batman
As stated above with Shigaraki there are characters who I love because they are wannabes, that is they are not who they desperately pretend to be. Aizawa is introduced to us a sa strict, unrelentingly cold and logical person.
While the rest are villains or characters who are expected to fall to villaintry in some way, Aizawa is someone I admire even as a hero because of how complex he is written as a character. Aizawa has set up so many hoops for himself to jump through. He passes himself off as someone who is cold and detached when it’s obvious he’s an overly anxious nightmare who is constantly thinking about others rather than himself.
He’s someone who believes he cannot show that he is caring in a direct way, so he always has to go through indirect ways. The cirlces he runs himself in around his students is always fun to observe. Aizawa’s big brain and analytical thinking are both his enemies, because they make him think of the ways absolutely everything can go wrong, and on top of that it’s implied Aizawa has lost someone in the past because of an unexpected accident which pushes him even further into wanting to expect everything and be in control of it all. What I like is of all the flawed mentors in the series, Aizawa is presented as one of the more flawed, but also someone who is actively trying to grow and learn as much from his students as they are him. As opposed to All Might who is stuck in his ways. Aizawa’s flaws are never glossed over but are right there for all to see, and his harsh personaltiy is what we are introduced to first before ever getting so much of a glimpse of his soft side which makes him all the more likable to me.
But then again I just love unlikable people.
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I'm not sure if you got my request because i didn't had internet when i sent it, so i'll write it again xd Do you think Dick (and the batboys in general) are famouse like Bruce? Because in the comics there's not any clue about it, i've never seen anyone say something like "oh look! Its Dick Grayson!, y'know, Wayne's first ward/son And its a shame, because reporters would make such a hard life to all of them, it would maka a good narrative tool
Honestly, this is a prime example of that inconsistency I rant about, and also DC’s refusal to just COMMIT on even the most basic aspects of their universe like….uh…how many kids does Batman have.
afhsahfklahsklfhal
Like, you would think that would meet the MINIMUM requirements of “shit you should probably have figured out and make sure everybody’s on the same page with” but DC’s like….nah, that’s not important.
So I mean…..I’m reasonably certain - like this is just my personal belief, but I’d put money on it being right, lol - but I think the primary reason there’s so little mention in the comics of how Bruce’s kids are viewed in the public eye/how much the public are aware of them (in the New 52, at least, as pre-Flashpoint there was a lot more plot around that kind of thing, especially back in the 80s and 90s)……
…is because 90% of the writers and editors have no clue either, and nobody wants to be the one to ask, and like, open that can of worms. I 100% think you could ask five different writers at DC which kids Bruce has OFFICIALLY adopted in this current continuity, and get five different answers, lol.
There’s been so much handwaving about Dick’s status ever since Spyral, and again - I think its because nobody bothered to think through the logistics of the Hypnos/global-mindwipe machine BEFORE writing it into the story, and then once it did occur to any of them to like….wonder just how specifically it worked, they were like, fuck it, better just be as vague as possible. So, according to Grayson, everyone Helena didn’t program into the exclusion list before the satellite was activated should have no recollection of Dick Grayson, which is why he was able to ‘go back to his old life’ and be Nightwing again, without worrying about his secret identity having been unmasked…..
But what does that mean for his official identity as adopted son or even just ward of billionaire Bruce Wayne? People can’t have NO memory of Dick Grayson and still remember that Bruce Wayne took in a kid named Dick Grayson. I mean, as far as I can tell, the overall consensus in the comics seems to be that after the satellite was activated, Dick just kinda started from scratch as ‘Dick Grayson’ like, he was free to be himself again, but it was like he was a blank slate/came out of nowhere as far as everyone else was concerned. But again, that means as far as anyone outside of their close circle of family and friends know….Dick Grayson is a non-entity to Bruce Wayne and the two have no history.
Which I mean, is fairly shitty and you’d think if nothing else, there’d be massive story potential there for delving into Dick’s character and his relationship with Bruce and examining how he felt about ‘having his old life/identity back’….except with the caveat that as far as the world is concerned, his life and identity don’t and have never included his father.
Cut to DC: Naaaaaaaah.
But even WITH that, plot holes persist, and abound, because…..why didn’t the satellite erase the Court of Owls’ knowledge/memory of Dick? Even before Luthor gave Cobb those goggles and files to help him with bringing Ric into the fold, Cobb clearly was already stalking Ric and knew exactly who he was….the Court obviously already had that doctor in place while he was still in recovery…so, whoops. I mean, you could probably come up with an explanation about the Court, via their own tech and resources, having had some protections in place 24/7 that kept the satellite from affecting them even though they weren’t on guard for it specifically…..but again, Occam’s Razor….I feel like the real answer is DC just didn’t care enough to think things that far through. Especially since the average Bludhaven citizen, like Bea, at least didn’t seem totally blown away when Ric revealed to her that amnesia aside, he was supposedly some rich billionaire’s adopted kid….which again suggests that as far as the writers were thinking, people in general are familiar with the idea that Bruce Wayne has more than one kid.
Then you’ve got Jason’s whole situation, and to be honest….I really only have the vaguest idea what’s going on there, because reading Lobdell books is against my religion, and I am a devout and deeply spiritual person, as you all probably can tell. I mean, I know that there’s something going on where like, Jason had himself legally resurrected in the public eye and is openly referring to himself as Bruce Wayne’s formerly-assumed dead foster kid……but like, is that the official official word, or would other writers if you asked them say they’d been operating under the assumption Bruce had adopted Jason too at some point in the Rebirth timeline, or….idek, man.
I…..honestly don’t have the faintest fucking clue what to make of the many back-and-forth retcons about Tim and his parents and his official place in the Batfam/relationship with Bruce, and am actually slightly terrified of even trying to make sense of that clusterfuck of a Gordian knot, so my official stance on Tim is to just like….back sloooooowly away from the anthropomorphic-migraine-masquerading-as-a-backstory, without like….agitating it and accidentally setting off another multiverse Crisis birthed wholly from just that one all-consuming black hole of a retcon.
I mean, there’s a reason I basically just shoehorn all the kids’ official pre-Flashpoint family statuses into anything I write in Rebirth continuity, and that’s not just stubbornness and my refusal to play the “now this kid is adopted…now he’s not…now he is again….except he’s not….oh he’s adopted again…..oh wait now he’s not again" game.
Its like. Also for the sake of my sanity and stuff.
(And also hahahahaha fuck you DC times infinity, every time you use the words “blood son,” or “real family” in a comic, or have one of Bruce’s other kids refer to Bruce as “your father” when talking to Damian, as if that’s not an utterly bizarre and roundabout way for any sibling to refer to their mutual parent and thus I j’ete REFUSE to acknowledge it as valid….ahem, anyway, my point is, every time they do that in a comic, I double down and headcanon Bruce throwing a random as fuck gala for literally no other purpose than to remind all of Gotham that he has half a dozen kids and they’re all better than everyone else’s. Ugh. Kill it. Kill the “blood son” nonsense with fire and lightning and also lots of stabbing maybe).
Anyway, that’s my official stance on DC’s stance on Damian in the books.
Then as far as Cass goes….ugh, her origins were pretty much utterly butchered by the New 52, which IMO has also failed to give us Cass and Bruce bonding and dynamics sufficient to Sate Mine Ire™, sooooooo…..I mean, my perception of the current canon is that Cassandra’s official status is “secret mystery foster child that nobody really knows about,” but because I do not care for that and there’s the whole not sufficiently sated ire thing I mentioned, I officially reject this canon and willfully replace it with pre-Flashpoint Bruce and Cass love and adoption. DC’s welcome to kiss my critically acclaimed hiney if I’m doing it wrong.
Which brings us last, but certainly not least, as its only this way because I go sequentially and Duke is still Shiny and New comparative to the others and will be until the next inevitable fostering/adoption/clone hi-jinks bumps him up the sequential ladder (except I randomly switched Damian and Cass around this time because LOOK I DONT MAKE THE RULES, THERE ARE NO RULES i hvea Adhd hiccup sob leavem e aloooone soooooob)…..
Duke’s official status, much like the rest of the Batkids, can be summed up as Honestly, I Really Don’t Have A Fucking Clue And Am Just Winging This Whole Thing.
I mean, there’s less inconsistency with him, due mostly to the fact that so few writers other than Snyder use him (boo, hiss, and not just because I hate having to give Snyder credit for stuff - look, I love his Duke, but I loathe how he writes Dami, its a thing, I just…don’t get me started). But what inconsistencies there are….well….they’re a bit glaring.
Basically one major storyline showed Duke as being an official foster kid/ward of Bruce’s and living out of the Manor with Bruce and Damian and occasionally Tim when he’s not off road-tripping around the multiverse….and then Batman and the Signal had Duke in the care of his uncle, who was stated to be his legal guardian and Duke was constantly sneaking out in order to meet Bruce in the special Signal-cave he built specifically for Duke to operate out of so he didn’t have to like, drive all the way out to the Manor to change just so he could then drive back into the city and patrol. And then Batman and the Outsiders just said fuck all that, here’s Duke and Cass hopping hemispheres with the Outsiders every other issue, so apparently nobody’s making unscheduled visits anywhere back in Gotham to make sure these two are where they’re legally assumed to be, which again, for the record is…..*error, source not found*
LOLOL and the really fun thing about this little back and forth is I’m pretty sure allllll these conflicting takes are all the work of the same writer. Like. GET ON YOUR OWN PAGE, DUDE.
Also, again I have to assume the “Can’t Be Bothered To Give A Shit, Or Maybe They’re All Just Really Bad At Logic” curse has struck again, because….uhhhh…..
….at no point anywhere in Duke’s stories have I seen Bruce or literally anyone else express concern about the fact that Duke living with Bruce as his official foster, like he definitely and clearly was at some point at least…..means that literally every single one of his We Are Robin friends who knows that he was taken in by the Batfam (and there’s several of them who know this)….like, by the transcendent properties of You Can’t Honestly Think They’re That Dumb, that’s a good five or six civilians out there who probably took all of five seconds to play connect the dots and figure out the Wayne family, having officially taken Duke in on paper…..is pretty likely the Batfamily.
I mean, I like all of Duke’s friends and would definitely headcanon/write them as all being trustworthy and able to keep this knowledge to themselves for Duke’s sake, if nothing else, but I mean, its pretty unprecedented for Bruce to out himself and all of his kids/allies by extension, to like, that many civilian teenagers all in one swoop….
…sooooooo, you’d think, AGAIN, logically, maybe, perhaps, this is the kind of thing that should be brought up in a narrative somewhere as a plot point worth delving into, y’know, just for shits and giggles and maybe a little bit of that whatchamacallit - oh right, character development, but.
Cut to DC: Naaaaaaah.
*throws up hands and does the I Can’t Even Shuffle all the way home*
In conclusion:
DC is a mess. The official/public status of each and every Batkid is a mess. Except for Damian, the blood son, but we have that pencilled in on the schedule to be killed with fire and also stabbing, so he can get filed under ‘just a fucking mess’ with the rest of his siblings. Hashtag Solidarity.
I mean, I say just write or headcanon their official status however you damn well please, and it’ll STILL be more effort than I believe DC has put into organizing and staying consistent with all of this, and thus STILL make more sense than what we currently have to work with.
*Shrugs* If they don’t care enough to provide a clear canon blueprint to follow when mapping the Bat Family Tree, I can’t be bothered to care if the one I make up myself happens to contradict one single mention of one kid’s official status as claimed by one issue of one book.
Especially if it was written by Lobdell.
Jason’s just a foster son my ass. grumble mumble bitter vengeful swears and a pox on all DC’s houses. WHY DO YOU PEOPLE HATE ADOPTION SO MUCH, INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW AND ALSO FUCK YOU.
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🎓🔍 Scene Commentary: Colonel Edition ③
Notes for [SQ3-3] Circumstances [video here]. Come join me as we talk about more theories surrounding the Colonel’s manipulation skills, hints about his history before Shay met him, and Gist being charmingly sassy.
Highlights this time include:
❗️The Colonel's Finances
❗️Gist and the Colonel
Without further ado, here we go:
[SQ3-3] Circumstances
― Part I: Heading to Albany ―
Shay, having retrieved the Morrigan, follows Gist's advice to set sail for Albany, where the Colonel's waiting.
The Colonel himself isn't present while Shay and Gist are on the way to Albany, but on the flipside, we got this great opportunity to see these two gossiping about the man.
Gist opens the scene pondering out loud what the Colonel might want them to do next. Now this bit is mildly amusing because he said "I wonder what he has in mind for us to do next"―did Gist just...slip up? Shay naturally went wdym-"us"-👀 at him over here, because he's pretty sure he hasn't signed up to be part of their team...
Still, Gist doesn't even trip over his words as he follows up with how he's really just all giddy about doing his part in making the Colonel's ideals a reality. Aside from the impressive save he pulls here, another highlight of this section is that Gist frames "the Colonel's ideals" in extremely concrete terms: "secure borders, prosperous farms, fair trade". These are very specific large-scale implementations of the Freedom From Want theme compared to what we heard from the Colonel himself two chapters back, which was more on the philosophical/ideological side.
Next up, the Morrigan docks at Albany, where the Colonel's waiting. I just have to say that it's incredibly cute of the Colonel to address Shay as "Captain Cormac" following Gist's example after seeing the Morrigan.
The issue on the table for their meeting this time is the French forces' movements into British territory, which is likely to break out into a full fight between the two kingdoms' armies. Now watch how Shay wound up working with these two again despite the question of him agreeing to run for more of the Colonel's errands was left hanging at the beginning of this scene: the moment the Colonel mentions that "New York could burn" if they don't do anything about the French forces encroaching upon British territory, Shay throws his weight in with them.
We've already established that Shay's the kind of person who cares about the little guy, so this isn't all that unnatural; especially now that he's a good friend of the Finnegans', not doing anything when New York's at risk is going to sound unreasonable to him.
However, the audience isn't the only one who understands this―at this point, so does the Colonel. After what happened at the Greenwich gang HQ and Fort Arsenal, he knows for a fact that Shay isn't going to turn his back on a chance to save innocent people. Did he, then, strategically bait Shay by presenting the fact that New York is in terrible danger and joining him is the best way to save all those townspeople? Or was it just something he said because he's also the kind of guy who's concerned for the safety of New York etc., and by saying this he's also trying to communicate to Shay that their goals are aligned? The trick to this is that of course these two possibilities don't have to be mutually exclusive―I'd say the Colonel feels that he knows Shay well enough at this point that he'd want to both get Shay to help him out while also letting him pursue what seems to be his calling.
― Part II: Gathering Supplies ―
Shay and Gist, having reunited with the Colonel, head to a nearby French outpost to gather supplies and thwart French expansion into the River Valley.
In order to dislodge the invading French forces, Gist then suggests that they raid a nearby French outpost for supplies. The trio covers a range of interesting topics during their time sailing to that outpost, chief among which is Shay's skepticism towards the Colonel's intentions behind all his seemingly charitable actions. This is an important bit for two reasons:
(1) Despite all they've done together so far, Shay doesn't stop questioning Monro. He's cooperative with the Colonel, sure, but just because he kinda sorta trusts that he's not a bad guy right now, that doesn't mean he's going to do whatever he says until he gets to the bottom of why he does it.
(2) The Colonel, again, calmly faces off against Shay's doubt by being straight with what he wants: that the colonies become "a place of safety, development, and purpose". Now this is something literally every one of us recognizes as a Templar Line™, even if Shay might not (did he? Hmmm). In any case, the most important takeaway here is that it strongly links the Colonel's concern for the common man with core Templar tenets, giving us a clear look into his personal take on how the Order's beliefs were meant to be applied to the world. He's not part-timing “being a Templar” half the time and “being a benevolent authority figure” in the other half, those two things are one and the same for him.
On a random note: I’m just gonna mention here that Gist being cheeky as hell with the Colonel's noble "money is only a means to an end" talk in this bit is hands down my favourite part of this scene.
❗️The Colonel's Finances
On a more serious note, the Colonel's comment on how he's "not a rich man" did get me wondering about his financial situation... I mean, obviously he's not dirt poor, and while there's that idea that Templars tend to be loaded, he doesn't look like he's just rolling in gold, either.
Realistically speaking, being a military officer in the early 18th century can be a rather pricey career―the pay's far from great, and with all the spending for supplies and equipments, it can be quite a while until even the officers could expect to turn a profit from their job (one exhaustive source about the economics of the 18th c. British Army I’ve read pegged it at around the time they get promoted to Captain). And while the Colonel did come from what you might call a respectable family, it’s more of a modest than aristocratic one.
However, assuming he's a long-time player in the field of renovating cities, a.k.a. the sidequest that, in the long run, gives you way more money than you know what to do with in Rogue, I guess his finances are quite stable. Now the question is, how much of those renovating gains he put back into more renovating... 😂
― Part III: Taking Down the French Fort ―
Having obtained their supplies, Shay & co. sail the upgraded Morrigan to the French fort and take it down.
With the party ready to take on the French fort, we see the Colonel show a pacifist streak as he reins in Gist, who was being a little too excited about the prospect of throwing fists with the French. Really, these two have such amusing interactions.
Next, he shows a strategic side as he agrees with Shay's suggestion about taking out the fort's commander to force the French to surrender; he may not be against pitching a battle when necessary, but he also seems to be a big fan of minimizing the overall casualties.
One really paltry but personally highly interesting thing I picked up in this scene is how the Colonel, commenting on how the French soldiers in the fort would put on an aggressive defense under pressure, said they'd just "dig in like a wounded bear", which does sound like an uncommon expression... I mean, "like a wounded animal" is something anyone can say, but him specifying "bear" over there just makes it sound like he'd gone up against one himself before. Considering he’d likely not have met a bear before he got to the colonies (bears had been extinct a long time in Britain and Ireland), if he did have a bear encounter, it must’ve been after 1750... Did you get chased around by this fuzzy creature in the frontier's wilderness at some point before you settled down in New York, Colonel? 😂
❗️Gist and the Colonel
Since the amount of interaction the Colonel has with Gist is second only to his interactions with Shay, analyzing how things are between these two can tell us quite a lot about the Colonel's personality.
First, it's obvious that these two are close friends―the kind of relaxed bantering they have on board the Morrigan sounds pretty much on par with what Shay's got going on with Liam, which isn't all that surprising considering Gist and the Colonel had known each other (and presumably worked together) for 6 years at this point.
Still, while the Colonel may be the older and higher-ranking of the two (ie.-He is Gist’s senior in both the military sense and the Templar one), therefore putting a clear superior-subordinate dynamic at play here, you don't see the Colonel trying to roast his colleague for stepping out of line (which he clearly does all the time, judging by his behaviour in this chapter), and what he does when Gist gets a little too rowdy is to gently but firmly prod him back onto the proper path. Maybe it's just his brand of leadership, but he displays similar tendencies when dealing with Shay, who has his default setting set to "unruly" most of the time. He’s clearly skilled at handling people much more hot-blooded than himself, and has a good hang of how to be an authority figure while still standing on the ground with his subordinates instead of putting himself on some distant, overbearing pedestal—honestly, a pretty good way to end up with their respect and loyalty.
Another highlight is Gist's adoration of the Colonel's ideals. Now I think we all know that the Colonel's utopian take on Templar ideals is one of his greatest charms, but what I'd want to bring up here is the fact that, if Shay followed the Colonel because he was inspired by the man's idea of making a better world, he wouldn't have been the first―Gist had been there before, citing how he used to wonder if he’s doing the right thing, but “not since [he] met the Colonel” . I'm not saying that the Colonel's deliberately going out there to steal people's hearts with his brand of Templar beliefs, but judging from his success at inspiring Gist (and presumably Finnegan Jr.) into joining his fight, his winning Shay over to his side isn't a one-off thing.
#⟪Monrology 🎓⟫#⟪Headcanon Hour 💭⟫#⟪✠ Honour and Loyalty ✠⟫#⟪Cutscene Commentary series⟫#cheeky Gist is life
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Fic: Lonely, Dark and Deep - ao3 link - Chapter 4
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Madara/Tobirama, background others
Summary:
Hashirama was always going to have to leave Konoha behind one day, but no one was expecting for it to happen so soon.
Tobirama falls apart without his brother.
Madara, mad and bitter and preparing to leave himself, finds that he’s now without his best friend and responsible for a village he’d just about given up on.
And now it seems like there’s something not quite right with the forest…
———————————————————————————–
Tobirama is an amazing Nidaime.
Madara is increasingly convinced, watching him, that it was a role he was always meant to play, no matter how everything else might have panned out. Oh, he's still not charismatic in the way Hashirama was or Madara is, still grumpy and off-putting and inclined to tread all over people, but he's devoted to the well-being of their village with a ruthless single-minded intensity that wins him respect and loyalty from every shinobi and kunoichi and civilian in the village.
They don't love him the way they loved Hashirama, but they need him. He knows the institutions of the village better than anyone else, having thousands of facts at a moment's recall; he remembers everybody’s names and their problems and actually follows up on them; he turns their village from a good idea with promise into something so concrete, so obviously lasting, that the children growing up have started forgetting there was ever anything else.
(Madara's heard some genin talking of what people have started calling, rather dismissively, the warring clans era; they sound almost envious, complaining about the rules that restrict them to D-rank missions rather than fighting in the wars. Of all ridiculous things to resent, the rules that keep them alive..! How quickly people forget the pain of the past.)
Tobirama started working furiously the second they returned to the village, setting a pace that made his previous efforts seem sedate, and no matter how much got done he never seemed to be finished or have time to stop.
Of course, when asked, there was always a good reason for it.
First, the election - Madara, who'd been certain that Hashirama's election had been little more than a ploy designed to exclude him from the position of Hokage, is surprised when Tobirama insists on another one, and on putting Madara's name on the ballot beside his own. Apparently Tobirama actually believes in the principles of democracy, explaining when Madara asks that leadership by appointment or inheritance alone is a recipe for disaster when the inevitable day comes when the wrong person takes up a position to which they are not suited - a disaster that, inevitably, someone would have no choice but to take it upon themselves to fix.
(There's an old pain in Tobirama's eyes when he says it that he never explains, and Madara wonders again how it happened that Hashirama inherited his position so quickly after Madara took his, when to all appearances Butsuma had appeared to be still going strong. The official story was that he'd died an illness from some hidden injury in battle, and certainly Madara knows that such things are eminently probable, but the timing has always been deeply suspicious.)
They hold the vote and Madara can see, this time, that there is no trickery the way he had been so certain there was the last time. Hashirama's sway over the village is as strong as it ever was, and though a few other clan leaders put their names on the ballot as well - mostly led by the Hyuuga, arrogant little snots that they are - Tobirama wins easily.
And then the work really begins.
Tobirama has students that he refuses to neglect, three assigned to him by the Academy system he himself set up and three more that he inherited when their own teacher died too early. He trains with them every morning and evening, with occasional training trips, and the rest of the time he handles the work of the village.
Managing to achieve peace and get decisions made while having to pass his ideas through a council composed of all the clan heads would by itself be a full time job, but Tobirama does that and far more – and not, as Madara had always feared, at the expense of his clan.
The Uchiha are given the power of police, tasked both with internal order - unpopular but necessary, particularly in a village where most peoples' primary trade is in blood - and external security, which wins them accolades as heroes. The Hyuuga and Senju are by necessity given a share in the latter, along with the other smaller clans, but the role is clearly subordinate. The face-saving reason given is benefits of coordinating of their security forces under one clear line of authority, but Madara sees his clan toasted as the village's hands, the highest honor a shinobi can give, and knows that it is Tobirama's way of trying to do his best by them.
(External security is easier than it might be - Tobirama is not wrong when he says the forest protects them, and while their location is only technically secret, no foreign army or assassination squad ever seems to reach them. A few individuals with bad intentions slip through, yes, but only the ones who come through the main roads - those who try to cut through the forest are often just found dead, throats ripped out by animals or drowned in quicksand traps that no one had known were there.)
Security aside, though, there's still everything else to be done, ranging from finances to sanitation to zoning to diplomacy to making sure there's always plenty of food available. And all of that is aside from the brewing strife with Kiri – a would-be war that is only limited to minor skirmishes because of their opponents’ fear of facing shinobi with the combined reputations of Madara and Tobirama together.
(Madara tries not to think of how differently it might have gone if he wasn't here by Tobirama’s side. Having just one shinobi of their caliber available means that the enemy has a target to focus on to the exclusion of all else – having two is much safer, because if they really needed to, they could take shifts in order to keep watch at all times of day and night. They don’t need to, not yet, but they could, and that’s its own form of deterrence.)
Yes, Tobirama is an amazing Hokage.
But he's not a happy one.
He works too much, for one thing.
Part of the reason for his endless work is that what used to be divided between Hashirama and Tobirama is now borne by Tobirama alone, but that’s not the only reason. Madara might not be great at paperwork, but neither was Hashirama, and the administrative system that Tobirama creates – levels of review, committees composed of experts, trained secretaries to assist them – ensures that while there’s a lot more paper than there ever was before, most of the village could continue to function even without constant review by its Hokage.
But Tobirama is not just the Hokage; he’s on every committee, an expert in every subject or forcing himself to learn about it, and where there isn’t enough work to justify staying late, he makes more – village work, his own work creating new jutsus for the village to use, or even personal matters.
Once a week, he meets with Madara to work on their mutual project, as he’s taken to calling Madara’s ‘quest’ for the Rinnegan; twice a week, he devotes a full afternoon to researching new jutsu and seals; three times a week, he visits with Mito and his nephews, who he never abandons the way Hashirama did.
Whether he gets any pleasure from any of it, though...
“Falling apart,” Senju Touka opines, watching him leave the office on the urgent request of one of their infinite committees. She’s helping out in the office while on medical leave between front-line postings – she's easily one of their best scouts, capable of great subtlety but strong as a bear and with the short temper of one, too, and Madara sometimes thinks that Izuna might have liked her a great deal. He can think things like that now, without wanting to kill the entire world and then himself. "I told him not to put his trust in people."
Madara looks sharply at her. He'd been under the impression such things were as little discussed among the Senju as the curse of hatred was among the Uchiha.
She meets his gaze without flinching. "I know you know," she says. "You're his right hand."
"I am not!" Madara exclaims immediately. "We fight all the time!"
She snorts. "Of course you do; doesn’t mean you aren’t. It's a precedent now, don't you realize? Two times at the beginning is enough to make for a tradition. Our village’s system of government now officially consists of a Hokage and his one advisor whose job it is to yell at the Hokage when he makes mistakes - just as Tobirama was for Hashirama. People are already wondering who will fill that role for you."
Madara stares at her, a chill going down his spine. "For me?"
"You must know that you’re the obvious next candidate -"
"I know that. But why are people speculating about me at all? Tobirama is doing a fantastic job. They can’t possibly want to vote him out."
Touka looks at him pityingly. "Surely you know."
“Know what?”
“Do you think he’s working so hard to set up a stable system of government for fun?” she asks. “He’s making sure that the village will continue to function no matter who gets appointed as his successor. The second he thinks he’s fulfilled all of his obligations – the village stable and prospering, his students graduated, whatever that project is that he’s working on with you finished – he’s going to go to join Hashirama.”
Madara flinches.
Yes. He did know that.
He’d just…been trying not to think about it. Part of it was the traditional discomfort with shinobi suicides – common, far too common, though less now that they had a semblance of peace – and part of it is the distinct feeling that he’d be letting Izuna down if he permitted his brother’s best rival to die by his own hand.
(In his rage and madness he’d somehow forgotten that for however much Izuna distrusted the Senju as a whole, he’d always been rather fond of Tobirama personally – my greatest challenge, he used to say, eyes sparkling with life as he thought up new ways to fight him, an excitement that put a smile on his face in a way nothing else could during those terrible winters when they were living off of little more than dreams of the future. My eternal rival, as those awful Maito people like to say.)
“That’s what happens when you put your trust in people,” Touka concludes, looking back down at the work she’s been doing. “Take those people away, and what do you have? Nothing. The only reason he’s not dead already is because Hashirama’s last request was for him to care for the village.”
This is probably true.
“Is there any way to stop it?” Madara finally asks.
Touka looks amused. “Rethinking your position on my little cousin?”
“No! Just…”
“He’s growing on you? Not unlike mold on bread?”
Madara is not going to laugh. He’s not. He’s being serious.
“I have an ongoing project with him,” he says instead. “I don’t want him to disappear before that’s done.”
They’re making ridiculous amounts of progress, actually; Madara’s not a scientist the way Tobirama is and he hadn’t realized the difference it would make. At the beginning, he thought Tobirama took too many notes, but as they continued experimenting (Hashirama’s amazing recuperative abilities had apparently been a subject of significant scientific interest for years, which meant that Tobirama had lots of his brother’s blood hidden away as samples in his labs, enough for dozens and dozens of experiments without even making a significant dent in the pile) they were able to cross-compare that data and let it lead them wherever it could go.
Sure, Tobirama also vetoed any plan that involved Madara testing their results on himself, but given that the first test they’d done on a sample -
(eyeballs are mostly water, Tobirama said dismissively, give me three weeks and I can make a jutsu to create temporary – albeit imperfect – replacements to use in the experiments, and terrifyingly enough he actually had)
- had caused the sample eyes to literally explode, Madara thinks that was probably a good idea.
Tobirama’s also been making noises recently about wanting to see the stone tablet even though he won’t be able to read the text itself (he extracted more of the details from Madara by arguing that there might be hidden clues in the precise text about the Rinnegan, though obviously Madara hasn’t explained the exact nature of the Infinite Tsukuyomi), which Madara is very strongly against due to his sincere belief that Tobirama will find a way to read it even without a Sharingan because the man is just like that, but which he is starting to think might be inevitable.
Unless Tobirama dies first, of course.
“He won’t stick around just for a project,” Touka says disdainfully. She doesn’t ask what they’re working on; she clearly doesn’t give a fig for science except for the edge it gives her in battle, which is a position Madara can respect. “No matter how interesting. Listen, it’s practically the unofficial Senju clan motto: ‘on this point we do not bend but only break.’ He put everything he had to live for in Hashirama, and Hashirama is gone. He’s broken. That’s it. There’s nothing else to it.”
“Even the curse of hatred can be broken,” Madara points out. He doesn’t need to point at himself as a walking, talking example; he feels that’s pretty much implied. “I understand that his principle is his brothers’ happiness, which he can’t achieve anymore, but still! There must be something that can save him from himself.”
“Sure. Find him a new brother.”
“Be serious.”
“I am. I mean, maybe not a brother, but something like it; I’m pretty sure he was smart enough to make his principle something more like ‘loved ones’ rather than ‘brothers’ to avoid having to deal with an unexpected sister or something...shouldn’t this be clear to you? Your own grief about losing your brother persisted until you were hit with the shock of losing another one, right?”
That’s not exactly how Madara would have put it, given how complicated and sometimes not-entirely-fraternal his relationship with Hashirama was, the way there was always an unspoken sense of anticipation that there could be much more between them, but – yes. Basically.
“That’s the problem with people,” Touka says. “People die. Ideas live forever.”
Madara looks at her sidelong. “What’s your ‘idea’, then?”
“None of your fucking business is what it is.”
Right. Not talked about, got it.
A long few moments of silence.
“…where would you even get someone a new brother?”
“That’s it!” Touka exclaims, standing up. “I give up!”
Madara frowns as he watches her storm out. No wonder Izuna was always so annoyed when he did that – she didn’t even answer his question!
(The idea that maybe there isn’t an answer – that maybe Tobirama is going to die sooner rather than later, and it was even odds whether it would be by his own hand or if he’d go the traditional route of volunteering for a mission with low odds of success – isn’t worth thinking about.
Why the death of the man who killed his last brother isn’t worth thinking about…is just going to have to be something else he’s just not going to think about.)
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I tend to blend my romantic ships, friendships, and family ships as one. If I love a dynamic enough, I don't care what they are or end up being as long as I get that relationship in some capacity.
So I often get arguments about why certain relationships feel familial or are friendships. And I know people are entitled to their opinions and often have valid reasons for them too.
But I still get 😬 when without fail, specific dynamics are INSTANTLY put in non-romantic categories. The same arguments resurface.
"They're better as friends." Which, fine, but also, that doesn't exclude romance. Don't you want to be friends with your lover too?
Some of the most iconic ships started as friends first, right? Friends to lovers is popular for a reason. Many people have at least a foundation with someone before they embark on a romantic relationship together.
Ginny Baker had half of her team willing to die for her by the end of Pitch. She and Duarte confided in each other a bit, and it was a solid friendship that could have easily been something more but wasn't. Blip was the closest to a best friend she had walking into that locker room and remained so all season, but those friendships are diminished because Ginny and Mike should just be platonic since you don't see that. But you do ... in the same show.
"Why can't they just be platonic? We need more platonic relationships" There is an abundance of them though. Focusing on the primary characters or your favorite characters at the expense of everything else does not mean there are no platonic relationships. And friends to lovers usually starts with genuine friendship that starts of platonic and then may evolve from there.
Hacy from Charmed may not be platonic. But Harry and Maggie and Harry and Mel obviously are and those relationships are cultivated and important too. Mina from the resident has genuine platonic friendships with Devon and Conrad and Irving (he used to have a crush on her but has moved on), but a hint of her pursuing something more with AJ and it's suddenly "why can't they just be platonic we need more platonic relationships.)
"They're like siblings" I mean, cool. I get it. I can even see it, but sometimes the set up for why they're like siblings is generally the same set up for best friends, or friends to lovers, or enemies to lovers etc, but it gets coded as sibling-like for specific couples right out the gate. There's a reason why bromance became a thing and it dances on the line of being equal parts platonic or potentially romantic.
Also, using a common ground and relationship both individuals share with someone else to make them platonic. Like if they share a similar bond with a parental- like figure in their life that immediately means they can only be platonic with one another and coding a non-blood related or familial related relationship as incestuous.
Example: Boy Meets World. Shawn Hunter was nearly adopted by the Matthews' more than once. It was implied often that he was like Alan's son. He lived with them before and spent holidays with them. But it never stopped Cory and Shawn from being shipped often. It was probably just as popular as Cory and Topanga.
But despite The Flash following a canon relationship. A constant criticism of WestAllen is that because Barry viewed and was treated like a son by Joe, and they lived in the same house, he and Iris are like siblings. And therefore their relationship is incestuous. An argument that could be made for Brallie on The Fosters, since Callie was officially adopted, but not for The Flash where it wasn't the case. It's not an incest ship. And yet ...
"They don't have any chemistry" It's true chemistry will mostly be subjective, but it's also odd with series where chemistry test overall are utilized just to make sure the right people are chosen for the job.
Chemistry isn't explicitly romantic, chemistry and romance are not mutually exclusive, so "they don't have chemistry" is often a weird one. Maybe you don't like their chemistry, or you don't like what their chemistry can lead to, or you don't want it to be romantic chemistry, but just a flat out "no chemistry" is poorly articulated, especially when there are cases of insane chemistry that is mostly driving a series. (I.E Ichabbie from Sleepy Hollow or Sharpwin from New Amsterdam) some chemistry is undeniable. There's a distinction between "no chemistry" and hoping the chemistry isn't romantic.
"It's coming out of nowhere" is another interesting one because sometimes it's valid, but other times it's a case of someone not paying attention to what was being outlined for some time OR saying this the second something is hinted at when that specific moment is the starting point for something the writers are choosing to explore. It has to start somewhere, right? So you can't call "out of nowhere the second two characters you prefer not to be together share eye contact.
Example: Richonne on TWD. They spent seasons building this relationship up. From distrust to being each other's most trusted person. The attraction between them was even there delu enough if you paid attention, but since attraction is a part of life and doesn't always lead to anything, it could have meant nothing to meant everything but it was there. But one of the biggest complaints was "it came out of nowhere." Careese from POI "came out of nowhere, despite their dynamic being built for God knows how long. Meanwhile, Ruzek and Upton barely glanced at each other before they became a couple on Chicago PD.
Ben and Ryn on Siren is something everyone saw, but Ryn and Maddie and Ryn, Maddie, and Ben together "came out of nowhere." Not if you were paying attention. Yeah, I may as well add Maria and Michael from RNM in this too.
I'm seeing it again, and while I don't necessarily disagree with the latest dynamic in question and why people may not want to ship it, the repeat pattern gets me.
Since I've given examples, may as well point out that this is in part a reference to Brightwell on Prodigal Son. It's new, and I'm not even sure I romantically ship them or Malcolm with anyone to be honest.
But the main reasons why there are already people against the mere mention of them is all of the above reasons. And the thing is, there are many reasons why people wouldn't want to ship them: Malcolm's mental instability, just not seeing them in that way, it being too soon, it being unprofessional, loving the team dynamic more without romance. Liking the relationship as is and not wanting to tamper with it.
And all of that is valid as hell. I get it. I agree often enough myself. Fortunately, the fandom is really fun and open and genuinely nice and hilarious and one of my new favorites.
And I don't think it's one of those fandoms that veer toward problematic, but this is more so an observation on how fascinating it is that the same language is always used. Regardless of intentions or sentiment.
I do think many shippers wouldn't be put on edge, hell many non -shippers but just fans in general representative of what is being shown probably wouldn't be on edge or have their hackles raised if the exact same arguments weren't used against specific dynamics every single time almost instantly.
Like, I wonder if there are better ways to express why a certain relationship doesn't do it for you without dipping into that same well. And it is unfortunate that what should be innocent statements come off a certain way regardless, but even when you can tell it's not ill-intended the pattern and verbiage remain gobsmacking. Like clockwork. It's a quiet observation and I do wonder what if anything can be done about it.
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Spider-Girls #2 Thoughts
Mixed feelings but don’t get it twisted they’re mostly good mixed feelings.
When I say I have mixed feelings it’s a case of me trying to decide what this series is.
Now I went into Spider-Girls expecting it to essentially be Spider-Geddon’s equivalent of Scarlet Spiders in that every issue would focus upon one of the 3 main spider characters (wow I’ve never used the word spider so many times in a sentence before).
What I wanted from Spider-Girls was a lot of Mayday focus and/or her interacting with Annie and addressing the fact they are pseudo sisters.
However my expectations were in fairness not based upon what was advertised, the series wasn’t stated to follow that narrative structure. As for what I wanted this series has delivered on that to a certain extent.
But more importantly than what I expected or wanted is what the series actually is, what it’s trying to be and whether it lives up to that.
And that’s where I’m debating with myself how to evaluate this.
Because it’s clear to me to a large extent Spider-Girls #1-3 is effectively....Renew Your Vows #24-26 (or #29-31 technically).
Put aside how the book is written by Houser for the moment. These past two issues have seen Annie as the focus character, the action wholly take place in her world, involve her supporting characters, centre upon her powers and utilize major plot elements from her book. So like I said this doesn’t just continue Annie’s story from RYV it is to a large extent the next 3 issues of the title.
Key phrase there though, ‘to a large extent’.
Because the series also pays attention to Mayday. She’s not the POV character, we don’t see her internal thoughts, but her emotional journey in this story is given panel time and played as important. Anya’s isn’t.
If this series is supposed to be about all of them as the main characters then this is bad, because Annie is stealing the limelight. But if this is a continuation of RYV it is also bad because Mayday and Anya have basically replaced Peter and MJ’s roles as second/third fiddle to Annie and that series was supposed to be about the whole family.
Buuuuuuuut...the series isn’t titled RYV, it’s it’s own off to the side mini-series.
So in that sense we’re sort of in a unique situation wherein it has to adhere to established continuity of all these characters (in Anya’s case I know next to nothing so let me know about that) but it doesn’t have to be consistent with RYV’s central premise.
Houser is free essentially to do as she wishes so long as she’s consistent within the context of this book.
So evidently the series is about Annie amidst an adventure where she is joined by Anya and Mayday. I guess then a more appropriate title would be Annie and the Spider-Girls but that makes for a lame title.
The fact that this is an off to the side thing also helps or mitigates the fact that there is a mystical aspect to this series which normally shouldn’t be in a Spider-Man book nor RYV.
Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, within what this book is trying to be, is it any good?
The answer is in fact yes, it is very, very good.
From my personal POV I want so much more Mayday/Mayday and Annie interactions but I can’t hold that against the comic. Especially when what we do get of Mayday is done well and is respectful to her character; unlike the cover which saw fit to omit her apparently.
We get direct references and flashbacks to Mayday’s past, with the writing and art clearly demonstrating they did their research.* Normie was a huge part of Spider-Girl and having Mayday think about him and for the comic to briefly play compare and contrast with RYV Normie is both natural and very appreciated. It also helps to explore Mayday’s character, something worthwhile given how long ago her series was. You can tell from the art and dialogue her romantic feelings for Normie still sting a bit.
Houser doesn’t rely just upon going over old ground with Mayday, she continues to showcase Mayday’s feelings of unease in Annie’s universe, which is perfectly natural. She also uses Anya quite effectively in this way.
Were I an Anya fan (as opposed to someone who resents her for getting Mayday cancelled and stealing her name) I might be more upset about that and her over all treatment in this book. Because this is Mayday and (even moreso) Annie’s story, Anya is kind of just there as a vehicle to propel the plot and to get help explore Mayday’s feelings. As she says herself she’s not a Parker which I choose to take as Houser throwing shade at Anya and I love it. The only thing I dislike regarding her use really is
a) Her tension with Normie. She claims Normie having six arms should convince him to believe in her magical mumbo jumbo but really that doesn’t stack up. Science and sorcery are different things to the man on the street. A genetic experiment giving you six arms is frankly easier to buy than magic scrolls
b) Her inclusion at all. Beyond helping Mayday to open up I see little creative rationale for her inclusion if anything the story would be stronger if it really was just Mayday and Annie. I’m sure you could find some reason for Mayday to go after Annie alone even with the same central premise. Like I dunno say Anya and Mayday got attacked and separated, with Mayday getting a hold of the scrolls or something.
Going back to Mayday briefly, one thing that is a double edged sword is how she’s changed since Spider-Verse.
By this I don’t mean her costume (I kind of miss her Spider Island suit but oh well).
I mean that she’s become a bit more cynical. Not overly so but it’s there. She refers to her adventures as Spider-Girl as a very distant past, going so far as to say ‘back in High School’. I’m choosing to take that as not meaning Mayday has graduated because that wouldn’t make sense. But the fact she refers to high school like that and treating her high school worries back then as meaningless is a clear sign of how she’s changed.
This is as I said a double edged sword.
It’s bad for two key reasons. The first is that it gives new readers a warped impression of Mayday and wouldn’t encourage them to check out her old stories (which Marvel wants you to do hence her recent epic books and this series happening around her 20th anniversary) let alone helping get her any new stories. Secondly it’s simply for older fans not the Mayday we knew and loved. Don’t get me wrong it’s a drastic improvement of how not like Mayday she was in Spider-Verse but it still undermines including her when surely the point of that is to entice back older fans.
On the flipside though it is entirely realistic for Mayday to feel this way in the wake of what happened in Spider-Verse and Web Warriors, especially as some stories have implied (illogical as this is) that she’s spent most of her time with the latter group. Losing your Dad violently, then being embroiled in a war for survival, then acting as a police officer of countless worlds, then being stranded in one of them, losing your newly found ‘Grandpa’ and then finding yourself in another violent war with the same people will believably make your old high school worries seem trivial.
In a sense I feel for Houser as she is in a lose-lose situation.
Spider-Girl fans want the Mayday we know and love but we also want her to be treated believably and to develop as a character (albeit preferably under the pens of her creators). In the context of this situation those a mutually exclusive goals.
Houser has opted for the latter which I guess if nothing else helps maintain Mayday’s verisimilitude so that hopefully in the future writers may pick up on her and course correct her organically. It’s also in line with the direction her creators chose to adopt for her in the wake of her Dad’s death so Houser is continuing to be respectful. In fact between the respect she’s shown and how much her run echoed Spider-Girl’s I think she might be a fan.
In a lot of ways the situation brings my mind back to Howard Mackie’s Hulk issue of PPSM. It saw Spider-Man picking a fight with the Hulk in the immediate wake of losing Mary Jane. Losing MJ was a horrible situation that should never have happened (much like everything involving Mayday in Spider-Verse and beyond) but the story was good within that bad context.
Moving on to Annie, as much as I complained about the over focus upon her in RYV, her exploration here ain’t bad. We acknowledge that she’ll feel a little adrift with her parents gone and her sense of reality opening up. It’s also right and proper she feel guilty about what goes down. I think much more could’ve been done with her though. I know we have a fair amount of plot to get through but you had space for more thought captions.
As for the elements of her series that have come back they kind of make me feel better and worse about the final RYV arc.
Looking back the final arc of RYV was probably it’s worst, at least of the second volume. There were major problems with Slott’s first volume when you look at it.
But a lot of elements from that arc clearly were written in as set up for Spider-Girls. Normie’s mutation. The spider creatures created from Annie’s blood. Her hyped up Spider Sense. Peter and MJ’s first child.
That’s all to this series’ benefit because we need not waste any of the 3 issues we have setting that stuff up. In that sense I can see now why that final arc was the way it was to some extent. The X-Men connection is still unforgivable though. On the other hand though it means that the grand finale of that whole series was in service of this which taints the arc as a whole. Not only was it problematic unto itself but it existed for something else, that isn’t even technically the actual finale arc of the series. It’s a spin-off continuation for one particular character from that book.
Anyway let’s wrap up with a few smaller points.
· We have the Inheritors show. Up obviously I hate seeing them but I guess it’s mandatory. I will say that the choice to use the twin Inheritors is a neat one given the story revolving around two pseudo sisters in this series.
· I didn’t think of this at the time but Normie’s six arms are reminiscent of his black costume form in Spider-Girl. That works well in this series but it retroactively makes it’s inclusion in RYV yet more derivative of MC2.
· I liked the brief interaction between Annie’s parents and the Spider-Girls. It was believable for parents to behave that way.
· I liked how the series went as far as to point out some of the spider creatures were deemed fit for trial so they didn’t all get jailed nor let off the hook.
· There is a spelling error in the comic when Normie says ‘immortal spider powers people’ it should be spider powered . A nitpick and rich coming from me I know but my blog isn’t a professionally written comic you pay for.
· The art is faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaantastic! I makes me made these 3 issues have better art than basically all of Houser’s RYV run. Special kudos for that cool splash page.
Much as I can pick problems with this issue it was still really lovely to read.
*Except on Normie’s black costume design but that’s an artistic licence thing I guess. They balance it out by recreating a Spider-Girl cover, from ASG IIRC. Also they fixed her legs unlike last issue so kudos.
#Spider-Geddon#Inheritors#Spider-Girl#Spider Woman#Spiderling#Arana#anya corazon#Annie May Parker#Mayday Parker#May Parker#Spider-Man#spinneret#mjwatsonedit#Mary Jane Watson#Mary Jane Watson Parker#jody houser#Amazing Spider-Man: Renew Your Vows#Spider-Man: renew your vows#mc2#mc2 universe#marvel#marvel universe#marvel comics
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Romance Meta
Levyn doesn’t really know the exact moment he started falling for Josie, couldn’t pinpoint it if he tried. Maybe it was their first meeting, when she was so kind while he was still a nervous, confused mess and trying desperately to hide it. Maybe it was listening to her wax passionate about diplomacy. Maybe when he offered to be a listening ear and they spent two hours talking bc they lost all track of time.
Whenever it was, he wasn’t going to say anything to her bc he feels like she deserved better than him. (there go those Blackwall parallels again) But then Leliana gives him the ‘hurt her and I hurt you’ speech and he’s thrown enough(he really thought he’d hidden it better[sidenote: I love how a lot of the flirts in Josie’s romance are... less obviously flirting than some romances]) Josie notices. She asks and he spills all the beans before very cautiously--hardly daring to hope--asking if romantic attentions would be welcome. Thought for a moment he was hearing things when she said they would be. Still can hardly believe he’s not dreaming. Almost immediately begins the internal struggle of if he should tell her the truth and how much and what kind of fallout he’d cause(she’s got him thinking things through at least some). He spends months going back and forth; right now it’s just his lie, if he tells anyone it becomes theirs, too, and does he really want to do that to the woman he loves? (and he does love her, even if he can’t say the words, he’s too damn scared, the little voice in his head whispering Remember what happened last time?)
And then Blackwall-gate happens. Shocked as he is by the revelations about who “Blackwall” is and what he’d done, Levyn understands. Better than anyone will ever know. And Blackwall having the courage to face his past and come clean, coupled with his own character growth, spurs Levyn to at least come clean about at least the ‘not Levyn Trevelyan’ part to Josephine. The ‘blood mage who poisoned Arl Eamon during the Blight’ part he doesn’t think he’ll ever admit to anyone.
Josephine is understandably upset. She acknowledges the mix-up is something she understands, how he wound up play-acting someone he’s not, but now she has to decide if she wants to willingly help peddle a lie or come clean and undermine everything they’ve worked for and built. She’s honestly a little bit angry at him for putting her in this position. As an additional complication, her parents wrote upon hearing rumors she danced with the Inquisitor at Halamshiral and informed her that was not proper behavior for an engaged woman, a letter which arrives later that day. Given that things are now complicated on multiple levels, Josephine suggests they *ahem* take a break, which a very miserable Levyn agrees to, while she deals with this. The engagement problem is at least a good cover for cooling things off a bit between them, if nothing else.
The problem is, much as he understands and is completely in agreement with giving her space, Levyn is head over heels in love with Josie by this point. He thinks that happened somewhere while she was teaching him “refreshing his memory” how to dance/behave at a fancy party/handle himself with Orlesians before the Winter Palace. But they agreed to space so space is what he gives her. Figures the time it takes to work through the engagement mess is enough to start.
He does, however, send a messenger to Lord Otranto challenging him to a duel. Because Josie let it slip that’s an option(immediately followed by DON’T) and much as he’s grown and moved on, he’s not entirely immune to crazy plans with good intentions but low odds of success. He’s not thinking to win Josephine’s heart by doing this, exactly, just maybe clear the way so she can choose who she loves, not marry because she’s ‘supposed to’.
But Josephine finds out. Having done her soul-searching and come to the conclusion she can forgive him for this, it’s just going to take some work and several long, serious, totally honest conversations, she interrupts the duel(good thing; a swordsman Levyn’s not). Scared to death at the thought of what could have happened, she yells at him to ask why he’d risk himself and everything they’ve built for something so foolish.
And out of all the things he could say; as an apology, because she deserves a choice, because he wasn’t thinking, what comes out of Levyn’s mouth instead is “Because I love you!”
It’s as much a surprise to the two of them as it is to the crowd and Lord Otranto. He wasn’t planning on saying it, she certainly didn’t think she’d hear it. But Levyn swore to himself he was going to be honest with her going forward, so when Josephine all but whispers, “You do?” he confirms it. (And it was absolutely the “I wasn’t sure until I said it, but yes” one)
And then she says it back and he nearly falls over because he has to be hearing things, right? But she hugs him tight and he can feel her heart pounding and maybe he wasn’t. “I thought you were mad at me,” he murmurs.
“I was. Perhaps I still am, a little, but love and frustration are not mutually exclusive, Inquisitor,” she returns, and kisses him on the cheek. When he starts to protest, she rests a finger against his lips and tells him they can talk at Skyhold, but for now, “...just kiss me.” (he suspects she means it more for appearances’ sake than anything, but the woman he loves telling him to kiss her is not something he’s stupid enough to pass up) Then, of course, Lord Otranto withdraws from the engagement and at least on that score they have a happy ending.
The long talk on how to handle the truth about his... lack of noble blood happens before the fade-in to the fireplace snuggling scene, and obviously ends in a good place(full details and reasoning may be forthcoming once I nail them down). They enjoy a quiet, peaceful evening of cuddling, Josephine 100% falls asleep on top of him and he 100% does not mind. (Cassandra finds them there in the morning when Leliana sends her to collect Inquisitor and ambassador both for a war council meeting. She was not expecting to find them in the same place, but hey, two birds one stone and it’s so romantic she barely has the heart to wake them.)
There are still issues to work out, and Corypheus to defeat, but they’ll handle them together. Right after they smooth out their clothes and go to that council meeting. Cullen and Leliana are nice enough to pretend they don’t see the imprint wrinkles from Levyn’s shirt pressed into Josephine’s cheek, but Leliana absolutely teases her later.
#queen in thedas#levyn trevelyan#inquisitor!jowan#oy this took way longer than i expected to finish#geez#and i'm still working out some stuff#but this is what i have for now
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Leigh Dissects YA Fiction: They All Fall Down (Chapters 9 - 12)
Chapter Nine
Levi certainly wasn’t grieving Olivia’s death…
Of course not. Why would he be grieving his ex-girlfriend? That would imply that he cares about anyone other than you and with this being a YA book, it’s unlikely that a romantic lead would be so complex.
[...] his open varsity jacket making his shoulders look even broader.
A specific sport isn’t named. Does the author think all varsity athletes get the same jacket? There are emblems, symbols, and other things that are specific to certain sports. This is what happens when you base your YA book on your own nerdy high school experiences and don’t do basic research: you get things wrong.
“Why is everyone so certain Levi Sterling is going to jail?” I demand.
You can’t demand a question that has to be answered by multiple people when you’re only with one person. Also, didn’t you, like recently, say he might’ve been a murderer or rapist?
I nod sympathetically, supposing that’s a legit enough connection for a guy like Josh to shed a few tears.
Because for a masculine boy to cry, it has to be legitimized.
Was he kidding? Girls like Olivia and the rest of them on that list didn’t hang out with nerds like me. But guys don’t always know that.
Okay, even if we’re going with the ridiculous idea that people don’t have friends in different circles, the same would be true for boys. Geeky boys and jocks wouldn’t hang out. Why wouldn’t he know this?
“I missed you last night,” he says right into my ear, with a secret, sexy voice that should have every cell in my body jumping up and down.
You’ve spoken for a total of three minutes.
“I had…” Movie night with mom. “Something else to do.”
Why can’t she just tell him the truth? I get it’s geeky but it’s not like you were committing a crime.
A flicker of distaste crosses his expression as he conciders what could possibly have been more important than his game, and his gaze shifts in the direction where Levi had been. “Out with your parolee?”
Dora doesn’t tell him the truth about her whereabouts as a way for the author to throw in cheap tension. If she had a legit reason or given an explanation (like how I said spending time with her mom is ~geeky~), then it would’ve worked. Without that, this is just lazy writing.
“Good thing, ‘cause they're saying he was there and was having a deep and heated conversation with Olivia before she died.”
Did this book have an editor?
“Good thing you weren’t with him.”
He’s said good thing twice in the past quarter page. Either the author discovered a new phrase while writing this chapter, or someone stans NCT.
“Listen, I know it’s not going to be really fun under the circumstances and all, but a bunch of kids are getting together at my house tonight. Will you come?”
Y’all really about to have a party when someone just died. I get the popular kids are supposed to somewhat suck but there’s sucking then there’s being horrible people.
“We’re changing clothes, you freakazoid!”
Outdated reference is outdated. Most of this author’s demographic does not know that song. Has she ever spoken with an actual teenager? In this century?
“His parents passed away many years ago.”
Please be related to the cult I’m probably totally wrong about.
“I never got into the house but I’ve heard it’s amazing, with an indoor swimming pool and a ten-car garage adjacent to some of the prettiest parts of Nacht Woods.”
Good Lord. First, it annoys me when characters who are loaded go to public school with a bunch of people who are nowhere near as rich. School zoning doesn’t work like that, with only one megarich kid and everyone else being middle class. Second, why are we getting this awkward splooge from Generic BFF’s mom instead of having this description when Dora gets to the party later????? Why is this writing so bad? Where is the editor?
“The grandfather, who’s retired, of course, made a killing on Wall Street, as I understand it.”
What is this SENTENCE?! I suck at grammar and sentence structure and all those technical things but damn, I know I could do a better job at this editor who works for an actual publishing house.
“Really hit it huge in the go-go eighties.”
“Where’d they go-go?” Kayla asks, making everyone laugh.
Not me.
“It’s the idiots who can’t handle the peer pressure. But, okay, you girls use common sense.”
Fucking hell. If they’re pressured into drinking then they’re not idiots. That’s why it’s called PRESSURE. And why are we acting like people with common sense don’t drink? They’re not mutually exclusive.
“(...) I’d love to just sit around that table for house with a family that is so whole and happy. But I only have myself to blame for that.”
Shut your melodramatic ass up.
Chapter Ten
God save me.
(..) what feels like a half-mile-long driveway (...) At least fifty cars are in the drive and along the street.
Driveway. It’s called a driveway. You just used it in the last sentence.
She’s cute - and has to be freezing - but, really, nothing extraordinary to look at.
What a fucking bitch. Honestly, Dora, please die.
“We’re going into the woods.”
Yes, now it’s the point in the book where a Native American burial ground is invaded by drunk suburban white teens who literally have no respect for the land. This includes our protagonist. And if you’re thinking she’s going to mention how wrong and disrespectful this is, bring your expectations of this author down. No, further. FURTHER. Yes, that low.
“We’re at Meesha mound.” She leans closer and lowers her voice. “Indian burial ground, you know. Cool, huh?”
“Very.”
To be fair, Dora says her “very” is sarcasm but like?? Nothing is done or said about how horrible it is that they’re doing this. Or even the improper and offensive usage of “Indian.”
She misses my sarcasm and takes me down a dark path.
Obviously bad metaphor is obviously bad.
“I like Sisters of the List,” Kylie Leff says, leaning into Amanda. “We’ve been blood sisters since kindergarten.”
Can I return this book and get cult lesbians instead? Side note, if you want to watch something about a cult lesbian, AHS: Cult was AMAZING and its best season since Coven.
She holds up a single knuckle and Amanda meets it with one of her own in the most feminine and lackluster knuckle tap in history.
We get it. Fem = bad, hot fem = bad, weak fem = bad.
Why was Dora expecting some epic knuckle punch when Kylie only used one knuckle? Does she think she has super-strength?
It’s Candace Yardley, number ten, who up to this point has been virtually silent. Once again, I take a second to admire her dark good looks; she is runway perfect.
Why is this book so racist?!! Having the Asian character be silent until Dora is ready to comment on her ~dark good looks~?? And she has to be at the bottom of the list? What IS THIS?!
She smiles at her best friend.
How many times must we be reminded that Kylie and Amanda are gal pals, heteros, and that this book has no room for lesbians? Petition to save Kylie and Amanda from this hetero dumpster fire.
I take the vodka bottle and let a few drops touch my lips, the flavor like bitter grape cough medicine.
One, you can’t taste much with your lips. Two, that’s not what vodka tastes like.
“You bitches cray.” She sings the last word on a laugh. “But I need to get fried.”
Let’s play “spot the Token black character.” I think the usage of the word cray is a testament to how old this book is. Back when white authors thought it was fun to use cringe aave. You gon finna catch me is SHAKING.
“Thank god that chapter is over” - me after every chapter.
Chapter Eleven
“YOLO, baby girl. Which translates into ‘have some fun.’
Petition to have white authors never write black characters again.
I can smell beer, and the sound of rap is barely drowned out by loud boys and girls laughing. Really? On the night after the girl they all planned to vote for class president next year has died? They either don’t care or… they don’t understand death.
You fucking asshole, Dora. Some people have different coping methods. And, how would you know they don’t care or understand death? Do you think you’re the only person in your whole school who has lost someone?
They don’t know how permanent death is. But I do.
Earlier, we learned that Generic Good Boy is a fucking orphan. He lost BOTH parents. You lost ONE brother. Shut up.
“Like I said… YOLO.”
Stop. I’m begging.
“You know what I remember about you in middle school?” (...) “You were hydrogen in our Dress Like an Element Day in science.”
Listen, I like the fact that Dora and GGB have natural chemistry as characters whereas Dora and GBB are forced like hell. But could the author not think of a more interesting element? Why would GGB remember this in particular? Even if he thought Dora was cute, it would make sense for the element to be something less common and therefore more easy for the reader to see why it was so memorable.
“You’re the Latin expert.”
She’s a junior in high school.
“(...) he lives to meet pretty girls.” The way he says it makes me feel like I really am one of those pretty girls.
Because he just told you his grandfather likes pretty girls? An old man? That makes you feel pretty? Really? That?
“Wait--I want to kill her, er, say hi.”
Ignoring this horrible attempt at humor, Dora is upset with her friend for drinking at a party. I’ll point you to Dora’s weird grape cough medicine vodka from her cult meeting in the woods.
“I play on two travel teams--hey, Ryan--and lots of these kids are from all over this side of the state.”
They came all the way out here for one party? Are there no parties in their own neighborhoods?
“Kenzie.” The older man nods in approval. “Of course.” Flashing an easy, wide smile, he looks down--way down--at me. Instantly, I can see where Josh gets his gifts--his height, the build, the sort of raw masculinity mixed with charm that rolls off him. That’s hereditary, I suppose.
I just threw up.
This man is at least sixty, given that his grandson is a high school junior. And Dora just spent a paragraph lowkey lusting after him. I haven’t witnessed something so grossly uncomfortable since Throne of Trash the series we don’t acknowledge.
“You were absolutely correct, Josh. She is a refreshing change.”
Get it? Because she’s not like those other girls.
“You’ve taught me everything, Josh says, a respectful note in his voice. “Including how to pick quality girls.”
Women aren’t avocados.
He pats my hand and shifts in his seat. “Let’s change the subject. I understand you’re on that list that does nothing but objectify lovely teenage girls.”
You can’t call out the list for objectifying them when 1) you’ve done that since you met Dora, 2) you act like a fucking pedophile while you’re touching her, and 3) you follow up the fact that the list is objectifying the girls by calling the girls “lovely.”
“But his legacy lives on, right back in Nacht Woods.” He angles his head toward the back of the house. “He’s buried there, too.”
So not only has this author disrespected Native Americans with using their burial ground for horror aesthetic reasons, but she’s also allowed a white character to be buried there.
“Not him, per se,(...) but the things that mattered to him. I made a place to honor him.”
I know we need exposition but it makes no sense here. They’ve spent half a page talking about this dead dude, rather than the scholarship Dora wants.
“How do I apply?”
“No application necessary, dear. You just have to finish the ropes course Jarvis built in Nacht Woods (...) You look fairly athletic.”
Oh my god. How many ways can this author metaphorically shit on this burial ground?
“Quit hittin’ on my chick, Rex.”
Dora’s next thought is her freaking out about Josh calling her his girl, which okay, I get. But… shouldn’t she be a tad bit concerned about this creepy pedo man who just offered her a scholarship as long as she completes The Hunger Games?
“She’s a total brainiac (...) I think that’s hot.”
“Quite,” his grandfather agrees.
I’M NOT MAKING THIS SHIT UP
Chapter Twelve
I haven’t had anything to drink since my one sip of grape vodka, but Molly’s borderline tipsy(.)
We’ve got clarification that her vodka was grape flavored (ew) but what the hell is “borderline tipsy”??? Either she’s tipsy or she’s sober. Tipsy is the full in between of sober and drunk.
“But the weirdest thing of all was the texts disappeared about ten minutes after I got it. I can’t find it in my deleted texts, nothing.”
SHE TRIED TO SEARCH DELETED TEXTS AND WAS SURPRISED WHEN SHE COULDN’T FIND ANYTHING ASHJLDFASHLJL
(...) ready for dark looks from my list sisters(...)
We’re really using this name?
But I won’t tell these girls that. They’re wack.
I love 2001 slang.
Also, you guys don’t know how hard it is for me to not make a Malibu’s Most Wanted reference right now.
Having to post all my notes/opinions means I’m having to read over some of the book again and if you can believe it, these are considered the good chapters compared to what comes later.
Using my irritation as free entertainment? Enjoy my writing as free entertainment, too. I’ve got a freebie book called Epic here.
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82. A New Leaf
Autumn had officially embraced Konohagakure and with it came the chill of change and deconstruction. This time of the year had always left Rei feeling forlorn and uncertain. The days grew shorter and the trees all looked as if they were aflame. On this particular afternoon, dark clouds blotted out the sun and drenched the village in a cold, unforgiving rain. Rei watched from the dango shop as passerby shouted and rushed indoors, though her mind was admittedly elsewhere. “If you keep this up” a voice said from behind, “your tea is going to get cold.”
“It already has” Rei replied. She ceased to look up. Heaving a sigh, Sekkachi looped around to sit beside her comrade, flicking a cigarette from the pack. “You really ought to quit that, you know. Your lungs will shrivel up.”
“Yeah?” Sekkachi asked, the smoke billowing at contact with flame. “I’ll quit smoking when you quit being a little bitch.”
Rei couldn’t help but scoff. “Ooh, someone is especially spicy today” she commented.
“Well, at least I’m not sitting alone sulking into my tea” Sekkachi fired back.
“No, you just cope with sake and cigarettes instead” Rei replied. “That’s so much healthier.” The memory of Friday night stung the back of her throat; the aftermath hurt everything else. She still couldn’t remember what, exactly, happened that night but little vignettes had begun creeping back in the past few days. There was something about humping a rubber chicken, at one point she performed the entirety of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas’s Just Awake complete with ample ass-shaking and actual metal screaming, and she was pretty sure she accidentally broke a bar stool trying to pick a fight. “Listen, next time you have an existential crisis” Rei groaned, “leave me out of it.”
Sekkachi smirked and took another long drag of her cigarette. “Big talk coming from you” she replied. “And how many tally marks are on your arms today, Rei? You know, I really don’t think a guy is worth bleeding for.”
Rei tugged her sleeves down self-consciously. Not that she had relapsed recently—she was actually rather proud of herself for that—but rather because the scars were reminders of previous pitfalls. “As if you think guys ae worth anything to begin with” Rei muttered.
“Nobody is worthy anything anymore” Sekkachi replied. And there it was: the trademark cynicism. She flicked some residual ash off the end of her cigarette and stamped it into the ground with her foot.
“God, what has gotten into you?” Rei sighed, rubbing her forehead in exasperation. They were all obviously suffering, as they had been for the past year, but Sekkachi didn’t need to make her grief seem like such an exhibition.
Sekkachi’s expression suddenly shifted at the inquiry. Her jaw tensed ever so slightly, her gaze hardened. Rei had clearly struck a nerve but that only made her that much more curious for an explanation. “Nothing you don’t already know” Sekkachi replied bluntly.
But the truth of the matter was that Rei didn’t know. Or, more specifically, she knew lots of things but was unsure which one, exactly, Sekkachi was referencing. Perhaps rather selfishly, Rei’s first instinct was Kakashi. Her anxiety about his feelings for her had faded considerably over the past few days but of course they never fully disappeared. She couldn’t shake off that interaction with Tenzo in headquarters, the soft-spoken reveal. He really does miss you, you know. Maybe her fears were unfounded. Maybe this was all going to be fine after all. Yet still, a part of her knew that missing someone and wanting to be with them still were not mutually exclusive. He could miss her and still want no part in her life.
“Clarify it for me anyway” Rei said after a long stretch of existential silence. “Spell it out for me like I’m a little kid. I want to make sure I know exactly what you’re talking about.”
The weight of Rei’s insistence sent Sekkachi spiraling. Why was this so important to her, anyway? It had nothing to do with her. Her internal conflict was none of Rei’s business. And yet she almost felt, at the same time, compelled. Compelled to just spill her guts to this girl, a girl who she was quickly dissociating the familiarity of. Sekkachi wanted to break free from the earth’s gravitational pull, tell her everything within a soundproof bubble and then wipe her memory so that the information would never see daylight. Something to get it all out of her system without consequence. She refused to give herself the satisfaction.
Before she had a chance to answer, a familiar face, wet and pathetic, burst into the dango shop. Rei and Sekkachi turned to face her as she approached, leaving a trail of excess rain behind her. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” Mikazuki apologized, taking Rei’s hands in hers.
“It’s not a problem, don’t worry about it” Rei reassured her, bidding her a gentle smile.
Sekkachi cocked a brow and recoiled, her heart racing. “What is she doing here?” she asked, rather rudely.
Rei rolled her eyes and replied, “If you hadn’t barged in here assuming things, you would know that the real reason I’m here is because I have a lunch date with Mikazuki.”
A lunch date? This was too much. “Well, don’t let me intrude. Wouldn’t want to be a third wheel or anything” she said, extinguishing her cigarette in the dirt. Her chest was pulling her homeward, screaming, but her feet refused to move.
“You can stay if you want to” Mikazuki replied, reaching out across the table. If the distance between them had not been so great, she would’ve rested her hand atop Sekkachi’s, but rather she simply smiled softly at her. “I just wanted to meet with Rei to ask for some help about tomorrow night.”
The thought of inserting herself into situations that were none of her concern piqued Sekkachi’s interest, and for a moment she cursed herself for having picked up that trait from Naru. “What’s tomorrow night?” she asked.
“Mikazuki has a date with Tenzo” Rei replied. A cold, unholy feeling seized Sekkachi’s entire body as if to purge every branching vein of its blood. She cursed her curiosity even harder now, and wished Naru was here to swoop in and take the brunt. She would’ve replied back something sharp and witty, something cementing her disinterest but in this moment, she was weak. Paralyzed. Her stomach churned, harbinger of the oncoming storm. She forced herself to move as Mikazuki’s explanation came in overwhelming echos.
“He wants to take me to dinner at Yakiniku Q, and then said something about a moonlit stroll” she said. “But I don’t know what I’m supposed to wear or how I’m supposed to act. What if he wants to, you know…”—here, her voice dropped into a panicked whisper—”kiss me?”
That was it. The last straw. I have to get out of here. Sekkachi slid Rei a crumpled bill, even though she hadn’t ordered anything to warrant paying a portion, and bid Rei a brief goodbye salute. Fortunately, she was so preoccupied with Mikazuki’s dilemma, Rei barely noticed her leave. Frankly, that was the way Sekkachi wanted it: inconscpicuous and neat.
Once outside, her body ran on autopilot, one foot in front of the other. She could feel the stares of those taking refuge in shops, watching her in the pouring rain, but she could’ve cared less. She considered flicking them all off but then thought better of it. Now was not the time. She clenched her clammy fists at her sides and tried to quiet the growing upset in her gut. The cemetery was bleak and empty, and her feet squished in the mud.
Naru’s grave was a strange dichotomy of welcome and wistful. Sekkachi sunk to her knees before the tombstone and let the presence of the fading, residual chakra overwhelm her. For a moment, it felt as if she was receiving a hug from beyond the grave. It was the closest she would ever get to being with her again.
“Naru…I need help” Sekkachi whispered, resting a hand atop her engraved name. “I’m fucked up. I don’t know what to do.” She took solace in knowing how private this moment was—just her and the ghosts. For once, she could let herself be vulnerable without fear.
Vulnerabilty was not something Sekkachi took pride in. It took a special kind of strength to bear oneself completely—despite her condemning façade. Humoring those weak moments felt so out of character, but then again lately she had felt out of character. Within her swirled so many disgusting, nagging feelings she never wanted in the first place. And now not only was she drowning in her conflict, she was running out of time to do something about it. Her window of opportunity was steadily closing, if it was an opportunity she even wanted to take. She picked at the grass around Naru’s grave and tried not to cry. She was fully prepared to devote the rest of her life to preserving her memory, to make up for her procrastination. If she had just confessed a little sooner, would things have turned out differently? Would Naru have chosen a different path? Survived? She’ll never know. Those what-if’s never left her head, however. How could they? Her life felt so aimless now without her, without the promise of just one more day before asking the future of her. Now the future was so dark, perhaps even pointless. But whenever she thought that, then along came that nagging little light in the back of her mind. How could she ever envision herself spending her life with anyone else but Naru? The alternative came to her in restless dreams, visions of a new potential she felt uncertain about. Maybe she was just projecting, maybe this was a subconscious coping mechanism. Maybe she was just losing her goddamn mind. But here she was standing at the crossroads, the clock ticking down to zero. If only she just had more time, if only the options were different, if only Naru was not dead.
“You’ll catch a cold staying out here like this” a voice then called from behind. A shiver ran down Sekkachi’s spine. She wasn’t prepared to confront anyone, not even Chikara-sensei. But Chikara didn’t give her much of a choice, sauntering forward and extending her umbrella over Sekkachi’s head. “Come on. I think it’s time we had a little talk.” And unfortunately, Sekkachi was in no position to protest.
Chikara’s apartment was like the backstage of some fantastical theme park—you knew it was there, but it was sequestered and secretive. She lived on the top floor, meaning she had an unparalleled view of the village. Houseplants cluttered her windows—modest things like catnip and juniper and bluebells. She set about serving tea in fancy, secondhand flow blue china, the kind that reminded Sekkachi that her sensibilities were rooted elsewhere. She settled into the upholstered chair shoved snug in the corner and drew her knees up to her chest like she was a child all over again.
“I ran into Rei at the dango shop” Chikara commented as she squeezed a lemon wedge into her tea.
“Oh yeah? What were you doing there?” Sekkachi asked blankly.
Chikara leaned back and retrieved a small package from atop her desk. She unwrapped it to reveal half a dozen dorayaki. “I had a craving that needed to be satisfied” she said, taking a bite out of one. She pushed the package toward Sekkachi, urging her to eat, but she only drew her knees in tighter.
“You know you can just make those yourself, right?” she asked.
“And put the dango shop out of business?” Chikara countered. “Sometimes it’s better to indulge in the work of others when they are better at something than you are, you know. Besides, that young girl who works the counter, Amai, is far too sweet. I enjoy supporting her!”
Sekkachi swore she could detect an underlying ulterior motive beneath her sensei’s kind words. A slimy, uneasy feeling overcame her. “If you’re trying to set me up, I’m not interested” she replied bluntly.
A smug smile touched Chikara’s lips as she set her dorayaki down. “I never said I was” she replied. “But the fact that that was your first instinct proves to me that my prediction was correct.”
“What prediction?” Sekkachi asked. Don’t act like you know everything, she thought in addition. Chikara was intuitive, of course, but she wasn’t godlike. Even if her prediction was true, Sekkachi didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. She didn’t want to admit to any of it, even if she did trust her sensei almost entirely.
Chikara smoothed back the wisps of dull, brown hair straying from her ponytail and explained. “You’re having an existential crisis, clearly about your love life. You mourn Naru, but something tells me you’re drawn to someone else?”
Of course she was right. Sekkachi huffed and rested her chin on her knees, looking everywhere other than Chikara. “What makes you think that?” she asked, almost mocking.
“You forget who you’re speaking to” Chikara chuckled. “And you also seem to forget that Rei always forewarns me when something is bothering you.”
“Fucking tattletale” Sekkachi muttered. “And so what if you were right? So what if I’m freaking the fuck out? It’s not like it’s a big deal, or any of your business. What do you want me to do? Put on a dress and make myself available? No chance.”
Chikara brought her cup up to her lips and took a long, intriguing sip. “This tea is piping hot” she replied, raising her eyebrows and humoring a smile. Sekkachi made a digusted, mocking face at her in reply. Chikara’s disposition sobered. “Listen” she started, setting her cup down and spreading her hands across the table like a real estate agent about to make a sale. “I can’t tell you what to do, and I know you wouldn’t want me to. Naru’s death has affected us all, and there’s no specific time limit for how long we should grieve. No matter what we do, however, we have to accept that she’s gone and proceed accordingly. Life isn’t going to wait around for us to stop mourning, so we can stop and cry for however long we need to, but then we must make the decision to keep moving forward. After all, we only have this one life. It would be a shame to waste it thinking about death.”
Sekkachi chewed her lower lip, fighting back tears. ”So are you saying you don’t miss her?” she asked after a long stretch of silence.
An involuntary gasp broke past Chikara’s lips as she reociled instinctively. “There is not a day that goes by when I don’t think about her” she replied, and Sekkachi could tell she was hurt.
“But what about Rei’s stupid little ceremony?” Sekkachi replied. “Did that not free you?” She smirked and rolled her eyes at the thought. It was all so melodramatic.
Chikara sighed and rolled her lemon wedge around in her cup with a spoon. “It gave me the closure I needed to accept that I wasn’t there when you all needed me” she replied. “But that doesn’t mean the grief has vanished completely. I just feel at peace with accepting it now. And perhaps if you had opened yourself up to accepting it, you would be at peace now, too.”
The insinuation was, quite frankly, aggravating. What was worse was Sekkachi knew she was right. She had spent the past year refusing closure like a fussy child at mealtime. No matter what, she would not eat or else she ran the risk of what? A life without hunger? A life without that deepseated ache of desire in the pit of her stomach? Is that why she had held off telling Naru the truth for so long? All the questions swirling in her head now were making her nauseous. She left Chikara’s apartment shortly after, her body racked by indigestion.
Though her eyelids were heavy, she could not bring herself to rest that afternoon. All she could think about was Mikazuki and that date she would be going on. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets and released a frustrated, animalistic groan. Life always had a way of being complicated, didn’t it? And somehow she was always the one caught directly in the crossfire. She stared up at the ceiling and considered Chikara-sensei’s advice. It was all so much easier said than done. How could she possibly move forward in her life when she had no idea where she was meant to go? What was going to happen? With Naru, everything was safe. For the longest time, she was a guarantee. She would always be there. There was no rush. Now, however, the world moved far too quickly and nothing made sense anymore. There were poisonous feelings squirming around inside of her body like parasites, feelings she was running out of time to act upon. Her mind fed her visions of Mikazuki and Tenzo together, arms intertwined, drunken laughter, tender kisses. It all made her so sick. And yet the thought of allowing herself to be loved by someone else made her sicker. How dare she. No, her heart belonged to the grave, to the woman she could never have, and she was still compelled to remain ever faithful. The future was dark and aimless and cruel without her, and these horrendous feelings ceased to fade. The longer she thought about it, forcing her face to relax in hopes of sleep, she realized perhaps there was at least an ounce of truth to Chikara’s words. Only she could decide when to mourn and for how long. She knew Chikara meant it as motivational, but there was also another side to this rusty coin that she took great, disgusting solace in:
There was no one stopping her from mourning forever. And maybe in allowing herself to stew in her pain, it would run its course and eventually leave her on its own. One day, she could wake up and feel okay again. Not today, likely not next week, but perhaps one day.
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