#also those two chapters destroyed my emotional and mental wellbeing

[occasionallycoinpin]

// fear garden 2 spoilers

occasionally coinpin 30

pov: ur former-serial-killer situationship gf is getting manhandled by the local cryptid while ur trapped in a burning building

[thekingofwinterblog]

It’s all for his sake - Endeavor and the Sunk Cost Fallacy

My hero academia 301 is a pretty interesting chapter, but for me, the most notable piece of it was how Endeavour reacted to the realization that Touya couldnt surpass All Might.

upon realizing that his son might not be able to do it because of inborn physical limitations, he immediatly stopped his training, which frankly was the responsible and adult thing to do. 

This stint of real parenthood did not last long however.

After taking the matter to a doctor, he is flat out told that not only cant Touya achive what endeavor wants, but it is a direct result of his incredibly selfish and irresponsible attempt to play god, by trying to breed the “perfect” hero into being.

It is how you react when you lose however, that shows who you really are, and endeavor illustrates that very, very well.

Upon being told in no uncertain terms that his attempts at Breeding an heir failed magnificently, producing a child that was not capable of resisting his own immense power, but also admonished by his doctor for even attempting it, and adviced not to try again, Endeavor instead doubled down, while focusing on the child he screwed over from the start with his attempt at genetic manipulation.

It was all for him you see. Endeavor doesnt use those words, but that is how he spins it here. it was all for Touya, all for his sake. if i stop now, then Touya was all for nothing, a mistake, im doing this for my son.

if im doing this for my son, then im not responsible for any of this.

his wife however, calls him out on it, as she understands Touya much, much more than endeavor does. or rather, she sees him fully as a human being, instead of as a thing, a weapon, a failed attempt at an heir.

Unlike Endeavor, Rei is able to see the way this all is affecting her son. She is able to see, and understand that Touya has fully accepted what Endeavor wanted him to be. a stronger, and better version of himself. however, unlike Endeavor, she only cares about him as a person.

Endeavour by comparison isnt completely uncaring about Touya. like most abusive parents, he does possess love for his offspring, but it is forever tainted by the fact that however much he might care, or not care about Touya, any familial love he has for his son is tainted by the fact that to Endeavor, he is a failed experiment, a failed heir, not his child. 

He is the golden child that Endeavor was building up as his true and only heir, who he breed, trained, and molded to for that single purpose, and now that he’s reached a point where he cant continue that legacy.

so, its time to abandon him, and start over new, despite literarily having just learned how stupid this plan was, and that it can, in fact, go completely wrong, with a quirk that will fuck over the person he brings into the world.

Of course, Endeavor doesnt use those words to frame it. there is no way to pretend to be a hero, if you phrase it like that after all. Intead, this is the words he uses.

this is a very important series of panels for a great number of reasons, some that can be debated, argued, and we will probably never know the full truth to the questions because this is a series published in 2020′s shonen jump, and there are things that probably wasnt gonna fly with Hori’s editors, if it was the case.

but lets start with what can not be debated. Endeavor’s words here.

“If we want him to give it up, then we have no choice... Touya... Cant surpass him.”

These are very telling words, and however you believe The third and fourth children of the Todoroki family was concieved, there is not denying the meaning of what he’s saying here.

The only way that my son will stop being an idiot and fall into line, is if we have another baby. that is the only Right way to move forward. it is morally right, because if we dont do this, then he’s going to destroy himself.

there are two ways to interpret this scene.

The charitable way is to read it as the fact that he used Rei’s oldest son’s mental state as a justification of guilting his wife to have a third child, to give this attempt at a superpowered breeding project another shot, despite the fact that they now know that this can lead to a child who is essentially born crippled from his own powers, and despite the fact that Rei obviously understands the effect of them continuing this insanity will have on their oldest son.

the uncharitable way to look at it, is that he used this as justification for flat out raping her, and forcing a third, and then later a fourth child on her.

I personally believe the last one, given a number of factors shown in this chapter(the way this page is framed, the fact Rei obviously didnt want a third child, given she predicted exactly how touya would react, the way her eyes would latet turn when she looks at who is presumably touya which really brings to mind how she would later react to her youngest son’s face after her mental breakdown, etc.), but i’ll frankly admitt that withouth a direct quote from Hori, its impossible to know for sure one way or another. 

either way however, this is a very good example of Endeavor both being influenced by, and using Sunk Cost Fallacy to justify bringing another potentially crippled child into the world for his own, selfish goals.

sunk cost Fallacy, is a mental reaction to when you invest more time and resources into a project, that you becomes so emotionally invested into said project that you will continue to invest into it, even if it reaches a point that it becomes clear that the resources you put into it, far, far outweighs the potential gains you can achieve.

because if you give up after having invested years, and years of effort to breed, raise, and train a kid, and then all that effort was absolutely wasted. hence he choose to keep going, despite having learned what a terrible idea this is.

He doesnt care about the fact that his next child might be even more crippled than his firstborn, he doesnt care about his son’s actual wellbeing. he cares about the fact that if he doesnt continue this insanity, then not only will he not achieve his dreams, but everything he did to get to this point was for absolutely nothing.

and endeavor cannot accept that. and so long as he can justify breeding more children into the world, and there being any chance they might inherit both quirks perfectly, he doesnt care about anything else.

and the moment he realised that this kid wasnt gonna cut it either, he did it again. it is not a coincidence, that the age gap between Endeavor’s second, third, and fourth children were all 3-4 years apart. because thats the age where you can usually tell when a quirk will manifest or not, as established earlier in the series.

While she isnt brought up directly by Endeavor as a justification, it is very telling that Endeavor decided on having a third child, only after his second child was old enough that he could tell that that there was no chance she could take the place as his heir instead.

So, he had his third child, and as time passed and it became obvious that he wasn’t gonna be able to fulfill Endeavor’s goals either, he dumped him, and instead breed a fourth child into existence.

and finally, he struck gold. he did it. he produced Shoto.

everything was finally worth it, and now, everything would be absolutely fine. the cost fallacy had reached its end, and it was now all full sails ahead.

except of course it wasnt.

His oldest son, now in middle school, had been raised from birth to believe he would surpass his father, only to be thrown away, and getting to see his father try to replace him, not once, but twice.

frankly, this scene is probably my favorite in the chapter, because it goes to show Endeavor’s mindset. Natsuo made a point that their father completely ignored his older children. and he did... from Natsuo’s perspective. however, having a more thourough picture of things, we can clearly see that this wasnt the case with Touya.

Endeavor genuinly cared for Touya, enough that once he got that child he tried to breed into existence 4 times, he genuinly wanted him to just abandon trying to be a hero. he genuinly thinks of himself as a good dad here, wanting his son to abandon the mission he set out for him before he was born. of course, with context, this heartwarming scene is incredibly sad and insidious, because we understand why Endeavor got so attached to his oldest child. because he WAS the golden child. he was the child Endeavor genuinly cared about, and invested in, and trained personally with great warmth and enthusiasm.

And not only did he abandon him as a failed project the moment he realized he wasnt gonna live up to his ridiculous standards, but he literarily created 2 more kids to try and replace him, just as his oldest son was old enough to understand what exactly his dad was doing. over the course of this chapter, we get to see Touya’s start as a 5-8 year old, his deteriorating mental state over the years, until he finally seemed to reach the breaking point with Shoto’s birth sometime in his middle school years 12-15. 

Endeavor is in this scene, just not capable of understanding why Touya so desperately wants to become a hero, when obviously he isnt physically able to do so. he isnt able to understand that he is 100% to blame for the fact that his son is having a full emotional breakdown after literaly being replaced by his siblings. 

In other words, Endeavor genuinly think’s he’s a good person. a person who has made a few mistakes along the way sure, but a person who was always justified in the end, and now that he’s having to face the fact that as dabi would later say “The past never dies” and has to face the aftermath of his inane attempt to play god for the pettiest of reasons, things simply arent going to work out.

He isnt going to have a happy family, who can now put the awful early years behind them, he put way too much effort, caused too much suffering and sacrificed too many years of his life for this not to work out as he wants.

after all, if he walks away from this project now, and lets Shoto have a normal childhood, and decide for himself, with no pressure from him, wheter or not to become a hero, then the sunk cost fallacy will have reached a negative end. it will all have been for nothing.

and we know he did eventually double down on this mentality, literarily beating into Shoto that he WAS going to become a hero, and there was not but’s or no’s about it.

there was no way that Endeavor was EVER going to let things be for nothing. His treatment of his older children could not be for nothing. His treatment of his wife could not be for nothing. His treatment of Shoto, and the way he beat him black and blue to train him, could not be for nothing.

Because if it all was for nothing, if everything he feels guilty about was for absolutely nothing, then he was in fact, a bad, bad person, who had no justification for anything he ever did.

[mvnvgedmischief]

unremarkable days.

summary: sirius black is trying to be a good man, a good brother, a good person. Sirius has a steady job designing book covers for a publishing house, a flat he never leaves, and a traumatized brother who was just removed from the custody of his parents. All in all, it's wildly unremarkable.

chapter:  4/?

characters: sirius black, regulus black, wolfstar, background marauders

tags: tw: canon compliant abuse, child abuse, social services, abuse

words: 3. 8 k

read it on ao3 here

read the last chapter here

Sirius knew that work was going to be high stress all day. He felt sick to his stomach, thinking about the way he would continuously have to talk to people, when all he wanted was some peace. He wanted downtime. Time when he didn’t have to think about how he needed his paycheck to put food on the table, clothes on his brother’s back, pay bills to keep his lights on, wifi for homework. Regulus occupied his thoughts at all times, protecting him was Sirius’s only priority these days. He didn’t have time for anything else. Not his friends, not his interests, not music. Nothing could come between his focus and his brother’s wellbeing, because if it did, Sirius would never forgive himself. The consequences were too dire. So instead, he just wished for downtime that wouldn’t come, and prayed for the weekend to approach even faster. 

The weekend, when he could finally sleep again, albeit not well. The weekend, when he had the time to take a breath, even if it was only brief. Because his weekends were also spent finding ways to better equip his apartment for his younger brother, going to long grocery runs so Regulus had lunch to take to school, meal prepping all of the things he couldn’t bring himself to eat for dinner. He was definitely tired of all of the ways his mind was spiraling out, he didn’t have the time. He didn’t fault Regulus for it, it wasn’t the teen's presence in his life that was causing all this stress. It really was his own fault. A bit of crying at that first hearing had given Walburga and Orion the satisfaction of a victory over him at that first hearing, and they seemed to crave more of that chaos. They wanted to watch their children suffer, and this was how they chose to do that. So instead he spiraled in the privacy of his own home, because he could practically hear the words they burned into his mind whenever he saw them, and feel the ache of old beatings. 

But it was only Thursday, and that meant he still had to do this all day, and  then get berated by the rest of the team for not attending their weekly bonding happy hour. If he was lucky,  no  one would ask him to go. He knew he should be less terrified of them asking, most of the people on his team were his friends. There was simply the question of Remus, and Sirius didn’t have the time to be thinking about him in the first place. 

He didn’t have time to think about  the way his hair curled just the right way to fall into his eyes when he slept, or the way his caramel freckles made him look sunkist. He didn’t have time to think about the  pink scars that ran down Remus’s face or how they got there. He definitely didn;’t have time to think of the comfort  of his hand combing through Sirius’s own mop of unruly curls. So instead, he needs to  put  all of that out  of his mind. It wasn’t going to help him do well at work. It wasn’t going to solve his problems. He didn’t have the  time for this, nor did he have the emotional bandwidth. Perhaps that was why Sirius was conveniently avoiding the idea that he had asked Remus on a date. With some luck, Remus would think he was just an asshole who ghosted him. That was definitely complicated by the fact that they worked together, that he couldn’t just disappear. He wanted to, he really did, because there was simply no time. 

He set up his deliverables as though he had made tons of them, because his employment in this company  rode on it. Just two months ago, he was pegged to be promoted within the next two cycles, and now he could barely hold on to his sanity enough to handle his workload. He was so fucking tired, and he had so much on his plate. He needed to mentally prepare himself for the long day of meetings ahead of him. He had no true motivation to do his job right now, all he knew was that his exhaustion was no excuse. He knew that his boss, Alice, was giving him a whole lot of leeway right now. She was probably doing more than she should to help him. Being a mentor on the senior design team didn’t mean she needed to keep tabs on his personal life and pick up his slack. 

“Sirius–” 

When Sirius focused back into the meeting he was calling into, it occurred to him that they’re talking to him. So he did what he always did, blamed it on a shoddy connection. 

“Oh, sorry, can you repeat that? My audio cut out.” 

“Remus was saying that some of  the poems could probably use illustrations, and he was wondering if you had any ideas on which ones needed it.” 

“Thanks, Peter.” Sirius was glad that he knew the people on this team, that Peter and James were as close to him as anyone could be. Because otherwise, he’d probably be fucked. 

“So I was looking through them, and I was thinking Bite, Magick, and Love I could probably use larger scale illustrations. But at the same time, we don’t want to crowd the book. How attached are you to the current order or page arrangement?” 

It felt too close, but he was lucky that he had at least read the titles of some of the poems in the first half of the book. Sirius knew Remus didn’t actually know what his level of involvement was. He thought it was just doodles, but Sirius would be responsible for presenting everything from kearning and font choice within the pages, to illustration and cover art to the design team. He was integral to the success of this book as a product, and he  needed to start acting like it. 

“I’m pretty attached.” Remus sounded cold to Sirius, and he wondered what exactly he had done wrong in this meeting. And yet, he didn’t have time to think on it. He needed to keep things moving, keep getting valuable information out of the author. Hook up be damned, Sirius needed this book to actually get off the ground. 

 “Okay, well we should get a meeting on the calender to discuss. What poems and what scale of illustrations you want–” 

“Shouldn’t you be deciding what the illustrations look like and the logistics of those. Isn’t that what you  get paid for?” Remus really wasn’t making this easy on Sirius. But he had dealt with bigger demons and divas then whatever this attitude was. So he put on a light and airy smile, one they’d never know didn’t reach his eyes over the low quality webcam and nodded. 

“If you’d like to take a hands off approach with the design work, that can absolutely be arranged. But in the case of a fledgling project with a new author, the design team, myself included, really hope to prioritize your artistic license so that we can get a better sense of your vision for your literature, should Quill move forward with other publications in the future.  We can provide a completely in-house service, with as much input as you feel necessary during the design process, and deliver collateral towards the end of the project when final edits are done, if you would prefer, Mister Lupin.” 

Sirius practically wanted to scream. He needed Remus to stop fucking with his job, with his livelihood. He couldn’t lose this project. He needed all of the billable hours he could get if he was going to justify the overtime he needed in order to provide for his brother. This was ridiculous. But his clinical and polite answer must have thrown Remus, because he didn’t get much more attitude out of him. The back and forth had ended. So instead, Sirius pulled up his deliverables for the week, which included new iterations for the covers, and twelve illustrations for the three poems he had mentioned. 

He noticed the way Remus looked at his drawings, like he was pained by whatever his thoughts were, and Sirius wants to scream that he’s under no obligation to think that they’re good. But then he remembers that Remus seemed to be nitpicking on purpose, based on his critique of the design system itself. Sirius didn’t have the time to deal with that level of petty, just because he hadn’t been answering. He was too busy. He had too much on his plate. So instead he continues his presentation. 

“I don’t like any of these. Maybe you should start over.” Remus sounded vindictive, even mean. Like he was doing this out of spite.  Sirius could feel his heart drop in that moment. He didn’t want to start over. He didn’t have the time. 

“What do you not like about them?” Sirius is trying to salvage his work while he can. 

“The vibe is off.”

“Oh, is there something specific that throws it off or...” Sirius trailed off, wondering what exactly he needed to change. 

“No, it’s the whole thing. All of them are just off.” 

Sirius needed to think quick on his feet. He didn’t have the time to start from scratch, so he pulled up his original thumbnails that he had discussed with Remus. 

“These are the original sketches we discussed. I moved forward with the ones we talked about. I’m happy to rework those sketches,” no, he wasn’t. “But if there’s another sketch that you think would fit your vision better, please let me know.” He felt like he was pleading with Remus not to hate his artwork. He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t a blow to his self esteem to hear that everything that he did was bad. 

“No, I would suggest you start over.” 

Sirius nodded, his mind immediately whirring with ways he could start over and re-design this project. He really didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to do hundreds of thumbnails to get set on thirty, only to be destroyed in a meeting again. Especially when Remus seemed so excited about all of his illustrations before the meetings. It felt like too much. He didn’t have the energy for this kind of behavior. 

Luckily, Marlene directed the conversation away from Sirius’s work. The rest of the call went on without a hitch, like the only person who’s work Remus had a problem with was Sirius’s. He knew that it was more likely for Remus to have a problem with him, because design work was usually something an artist thought of as easy; however, this felt calculated and cold. If Sirius had been avoiding Remus before, it definitely wasn’t about to get better. So instead, he listened to the end of the meeting, and started the project all over again. He could do this. It was an unremarkable critique. It didn’t matter.

[spineandprose]

Educated | December 2019

For the entire year, I wished this book wasn’t on our reading list. Seeing Educated  as our December read gave me caution for what I would learn in its pages and how that information would roll around in my head and heart, weighing me with a burden I didn’t need to bear. I don’t handle hard stories well. As this final book selection rolled nearer, my uneasiness grew. I knew this would be a hard read, and even contemplated a few times explaining to this club that I knew myself too well and decided to cautiously decline reading even one page of this memoir. But I wondered if I would regret missing out.

Ten days ago,* I cracked the book open and read about the Indian Princess and the family she housed at her base. Somehow, I was hooked. More than that, I was captivated, spellbound, fascinated with Tara’s story. One more chapter, then one more, then just another. Ultimately, I found Tara to be an exquisite storyteller, a master of words. I found her descriptions to be detailed enough to engulf me and transport me to her world, but she allowed the reader to have emotions for themselves; she didn’t describe her emotions in order to take you into her world, and I liked that. Instead, she let the events and people speak for themselves and for the reader to discover in their own understanding.

Home: Again, and Again, and Again I loved the foreshadowing of the prologue: “[My father] never told me how I’d know when it was time to come home.” Returning home, to her beloved Buck’s Peak and her complicated, unstable home was the thread that weaved, always rough and harsh, through Tara’s novel. As the reader, it was easy to take the stance of run away and never return! and I assumed that her move to college would be such. But she returned: during school breaks and summers, on weekends and for a sole midnight intrusion, for weddings and funerals, reconciliation and reunion, before a final resolve for a peaceful goodbye on her terms. Yet, did you catch it? I think she holds out hope that she may yet be welcomed home, in time. Does anyone else agree with me on this?

As the reader, each time you see her begin a journey back to Buck’s Peak, you wonder: why. I think the author does a tremendous job of displaying how real, deep, and valued family ties are. Though she confronts her parent’s mistreatment, neglect, and failings in their caring for her, she always thinks the best of them. She always says she loves them. She always explains how they are acting in their understanding of love toward her; I saw this especially in her parent’s visit to Harvard, including the Sacred Grove and Niagara Falls. I think Tara can really see that her parents are not whole beings and are loving her as they think is love. But it takes Tara ten years to learn that she cannot be loved by her parents, in their peculiar way, and remain a whole person. In her final visit to Buck’s Peak and her intentional goodbye, she describes this beautifully: “He gave me a stiff hug and said, ‘I love you, you know that?’ ‘I do,’ I said. ‘That has never been the issue.’” (Page 310).

List of Traumatic Events About halfway through the book, I thought I would write down each incident of injury. I found these to be the most intense.

two terrible car crashes

falling 18 feet in a junkyard with a deep leg wound at the age of ten

acting as first responder to a fire burn at the age of ten

physically, emotionally, and verbally abused from roughly the age of 15 to 25

Us vs. Them Because of her father’s, Gene’s, obsession with preparing for the End Days and his distrust of the government, he instilled in his family the mentality of us vs. them: a prevalent thinking that our family knows the real truth and everyone outside these walls---even those inside the same church as us---is out to harm us, destroy us, rip us apart. It’s us vs. them, and they can’t win.

This is ironic. Charles pointed it out---I’m not exactly sure when---but over the course of her story I had developed the same thought: there was no us for the Westovers. They are not looking out for each other. This is displayed in a dozen ways throughout the book:

Not yelling for help when Shawn was being abusive. This is true for likely all the siblings, but it’s known for Tara (the Thanksgiving choke and pin in the family room, the hundreds of times she was inverted into the toilet bowl), revealed through Audrey’s account of violence, and is hinted at through Tyler and Richard’s stance and uneasiness when they witness Shawn’s aggression. Somehow, they each knew that to call on a family member for help was not an option. 

No communication with each other. Again, related to Shawn’s violence, no one shared with another member of the family the abuse they suffered until years after they had all left the house.

No teamwork. On the junkyard and at sites, Gene established it was each man (child, really) for himself. I’m chucking lead, so you better duck. I’m concerned about this wildfire, so you better drive your burning body home yourself. I value money above all things, so you best learn how to balance on that pallet and stop wishing for a cherry picker.

A focus on individual responsibility and strength. Tara describes this specifically when she recalls her instincts on page 102: “All my life those instincts had been instructing me in this single doctrine---that the odds are better if you rely only on yourself.” I think this is also displayed through two events that happened when she was ten: her 18-foot fall from the metal bin at the junkyard and her first response care to Luke’s burned leg. After she fell from the bin, her father responded with, “What happened? How’d you manage that?” (Page 65). After she cared for Luke, her mother responded with, “You were lucky this time, Tara. But what were you thinking, putting a burn into a garbage can?” (Page 71). The parents assumed no responsibility for the danger they flung their children into. Instead, Tara grew up being taught that every hurt and failing was her own doing.

I thought the struggle to name who was ultimately responsible for each hardship was beautifully described at the end of the chapter called Apache Women (page 40), when Tara is wrestling with wondering who was at fault for the first car accident. She crafts the most wonderful conclusion. “Me, I never blamed anyone for the accident, least of all Tyler. It was just one of those things. A decade later my understanding would shift, part of my heavy swing into adulthood, and after that the accident would always make me think of the Apache women, and of all the decisions that go into making a life---the choices people make, together and on their own, that combine to produce any single event. Grains of sand, incalculable, pressing into sediment, then rock.” To me, she is saying that the accident was her father’s fault for not leading the family by being the driver and her mother’s fault for letting him be so selfish. But those are grains of sand overlaying a rocky ground of her father’s untreated depression atop a foundation of false believes (not calling an ambulance for medical help). It’s a long spiral down of many poor choices.

Family Under A Firm, Compassionless Father When I think of Tara’s family, I think of a house full of force, emptied of service; full of physical harm, emptied of protection; full of emotional manipulation, emptied of quiet, listening ears. I thought Tara brilliantly described her father through the example of the math equation: “Dad could command this science, could decipher its language, decrypt its logic, could bend and twist and squeeze from it the truth. But as it passed through him, it turned to chaos.” (Page 126)

The image she describes of her laying on the mattress in the back of their van alongside her mother and Audrey, while her dad accelerates through a snow storm seems to be the perfect picture of how life existed under his authority. He is stubborn, always right In his own eyes, always selfish, never listens, and thrusts his family into harm. I feel so sad for her mom, thinking of her laying there with a quiet question of, “Shouldn’t we drive slower?” answered with acceleration; her eyes closed, body tense, knowing her children will crash alongside her. It is heartbreaking to me to think of the hopelessness of that moment.

After reading about Shawn’s physical, emotional, and verbal abuse toward Tara, I thought she would be most hurt by him. And she was, of course, very hurt---so much that she removed herself from her family. But in how she describes her hurt, it seems that she is most hurt by her father. This at first surprised me. But I now understand; it was under his leadership that all her hurts originated. And it was him who she had to guard herself from as she attempted to reconcile with her mother.

Audrey I found it interesting that no memory or event with Audrey was specifically called out in Tara’s memoir until the revealing of Shawn’s abuse toward her. For the reader, it felt like Tara was connecting with a stranger, but for Tara, we can assume that their relationship as sisters was deeper for her than what we interpret. It isn’t a wonder why there is little to recall of her memories with Audrey, though; Audrey seemed to always have a job outside the home from an early age in order to avoid her father’s junkyard and Shawn’s abuse. I found it so sad to learn that Audrey later retracted her statements of abuse from Shawn. I wonder: how long can a person lie to themselves?

Shawn When I think of Tara’s relationship with Shawn, I feel such a sadness for the emotional complexities and shifting assurances that that relationship brings. How does someone reconcile that their greatest protector and defender is also their most harmful abuser? What a twisted relationship for Tara to process for her own health and wellbeing. Perhaps because the violence toward her is so terrible, the moments of protection he provides are astonishingly remarkable. 

The description of Shawn advocating for Tara’s safety in not running the Shear (page 140) brought me to tears. This violent stranger of a brother risks himself for a month in order to keep her from harm. And yet, he himself is her greatest harm. 

Another moment is described when she is trapped on the runaway horse, Bud. This sentence struck me as beautifully written: “All this would happen in seconds, a year of training reduced to a single, desperate moment.” (Page 103) And he rescues her.

And the one that sets this bipolar relationship into motion, after he has “fixed” her neck and she sees him as, “...some longed-for defender, some fanciful champion, one who wouldn't fling me into a storm, and who, if I was hurt, would make me whole.” (Page 97)

Tyler Contrast this with Tyler, who is the shining hero in her story. The one who encouraged her education, protected her from Shawn, and stood by her when her family disowned her. This single sentence is remarkable: “How do you thank a brother who refused to let you go, who seized your hand and wrenched you upward, just as you had decided to stop kicking and sink? There aren’t words for that, either.” (Page 317) 

Reading that sentence made me weep, and this is what I think Tara is best at: in bringing the complicated emotions and abuses of the human heart into such beautiful descriptions that the reader is left knowing the depths of the potential of the human race’s unthinkable harm and yet abundant rescue a bit more poetically.

Final Thoughts Oh, there are likely a dozen more moments I’d like to discuss; I feel as if I’ve barely scratched the surface of my notes. I loved this book because I love reading non-fiction, and I’m finding memoirs are my favorite. I loved this book because the writing was simply beautiful and her storytelling supreme. Her realization, “...that a life is not a thing unalterable.” (page 286) might sum up the triumph from tragedy that her life represents. Amazing. Of course, I give it five stars.

I’d love to hear what you thought of the book, even if you have a less glowing review than mine. Please share your takeaways below!

Also, one of my favorite podcasts did a book review of Educated. Take a listen here if you’re interested.

*It took me twice as long to write my review as it did for me to read the book! So the start of this review isn’t hot off the press. ;)

[neuxue]

Wheel of Time liveblogging: The Gathering Storm ch 44

Balefire: the solution to every problem! (Except those it causes)

Chapter 44: Scents Unknown

Huh, with a title like that I’d have expected a Perrin chapter, but we’re back with Rand. This is the Book of Rand and Egwene, it would seem. Which is fitting, given where we are in the story—this is the beginning of the end, and the Dragon and Amyrlin are taking their places, two of the greatest forces on the side of the Light. Of course those storylines parallel each other. In their own particular ways.

Oh wait we’re actually with Nynaeve, but Nynaeve is with Rand so it’s almost the same thing except she feels things like a functional person.

“Tarwin’s Gap,” Rand said, shaking his head. “No. The more I think about it, the more I realise that we don’t want to fight there. Lan is doing me a favour. If I can coordinate an assault alongside his own, I can gain great advantage. But I don’t want to distract my armies with the Gap. It would be a waste of resources.”

He named you friend…

At the same time, this makes sense from a strategic point of view, if we accept that Rand is in fact heading straight for Shayol Ghul. Which comes with its own massive host of strategic…complications…but sure. Fine. I guess we’re doing this.

Does that mean next book is going to be mainly catching up all the other timelines? We’ve touched on a few of them this book but it’s mostly been focused on Rand and Egwene, so it does seem like there’s a fair bit of catching up to do before we’re ready to actually start in on Tarmon Gai’don.

He seemed so emotionless, but she had seen the beast get free and roar at her. It was coiled inside him, and if he didn’t let his emotions out soon, they would devour him from the inside.

Emotions are like dogs: you need to let them out at least twice a day so they can do their business and not wreck the house.

Not that I would know, given that I have neither emotions nor dogs.

(‘But Lia,’ you say, ‘you had an emotion just last chapter, on this very blog.’ Lies and slander).

Each day brought Lan one step closer to a fight he couldn’t win.

Are you sure about that? If there’s one character I’d bet on in that situation, against those odds, it would be Lan Mandragoran. In part because he doesn’t look at it as a fight to be won. It’s a fight he has to fight, but he has always expected it to claim his life; he’s not holding anything back, and he’s not looking for a way out, and he has nothing left to lose.

If Lan was going to fight an impossible battle, then she longed to be at his side. But she stayed. Light take Rand al’Thor, she stayed. What good would it do to help Lan, only to let the world fall into Shadow because of a stubborn sheepherder’s stubborn…stubbornness!

Ah Nynaeve. It’s a quiet sacrifice, but not a small one for her. She has almost the opposite problem to Rand: she cares so deeply about so many people. But she can’t just go where she wishes she could; she knows she can’t go to Lan any more than Rand can. It’s a strategic decision on her part as well, even as it hurts her to have to make it. But she’s right; helping Lan does nothing if the Dragon Reborn fails. And so they come to the same conclusion but from entirely different directions.

This, also, avoids the thing I hate most in fictional romance: when it gets in the way and causes problems by making characters do absurdly stupid things In The Name Of Love. I have many issues with the WoT romances, but on the whole that at least is not one of them. Characters are mostly able to put aside their pants feelings when needed, and I appreciate that. Instead, we mostly see the more…plot-positive sides of those relationships, in how they provide support or an anchor or a source of comfort and strength for those involved.

Well, except for Gawyn. But he’s not in this chapter (yet, anyway) so I don’t have to talk about him.

Don’t worry, Nynaeve; Lan is at least not alone. You did well. If Malkier is to die, it will die thoroughly and finally.

“We cannot let the enemy dictate our battlefield. The last thing we want to do is fight where they want us to, or where they expect us to.” He turned his eyes northward. “Yes, let them gather. They seek me, and I shall not deliver myself. Why fight at Tarwin’s Gap? It makes the best sense to jump most of our armies right to Shayol Ghul.”

Um.

Sorry, run that by me again? You can’t let your enemy dictate the battlefield, and you can’t fight where they expect you to, so you’re going to drop yourself right into the epicentre of the Shadow’s power? That makes sense…how, exactly?

Nynaeve’s still trying to convince him to move on Tarwin’s Gap instead, but it all touches too closely on strategy, and that’s…not going to work. It’s too easy for him to dismiss her arguments, to look at Lan’s possible death and a Trolloc invasion as just part of what must be done, as pieces on the gameboard that he can use. It’s too easy for him to retreat into emotionless analysis of the battlefield. You’re going to need to find a different angle of attack, though I’m still not sure what. But something that can appeal to who he was, to the few things he still cares about, as much as he cares about anything. To something he can’t actually let go, no matter how much he’s convinced himself otherwise.

“Rand,” Nynaeve said, her anger fading to horror. “Lan will die!”

“Then who am I to deny him that?” Rand said. “We all deserve the chance to find peace.”

Oh.

I…the worst part is, Lan would not even disagree. He has been functionally suicidal for…his entire adult life, at least, if not longer. His whole life has been wrapped up in his death, in the death of Malkier, in this war he knows he cannot win and has been bound away from by various means but to which he always, always returns in his thoughts. There is no peace for him until he can meet that destiny. He and Rand share that now, more than ever, but that doesn’t make them right.

(You fell off a roof knowing it would mean imprisonment rather than let go when he looked you in the eye and told you to, Rand. But now…now he understands that desire to just fall. To stop fighting and let gravity and destiny take you where they may, and to know the relief of finally letting it all end…)

He actually believed that! Or he was convincing himself to believe it, at least.

Some of both, really. In part it’s just that he can’t let himself hope, so he has resigned himself to death because that way he can let everything else go; if there’s nothing to save it doesn’t matter what he does. But some of it is just that he’s so tired and in so much pain and has been trying to do far too much for far too long, and just desperately wants it to be over. Prophecied hero jobs should at least come with some serious mental healthcare, is what I’m saying here.

“My duty is to kill the Dark One,” Rand said, as if to himself. “I kill him, then I die. That is all.”

Yeah that…still sounds like a terrible idea in approximately every way I can think of. What of balance? What of choice? What of the Pattern, because surely destroying the Dark One in this Age would break the cycle of the Ages past and to come. This is not the sort of series where killing a god is going to end well.

But it suits his current mindset perfectly. A focus so narrow that this looks like victory, a desperation for an ending, a loss of any sense of why, a willingness to let everything else be destroyed in the service of this one purpose. Ending the cycle forever rather than facing this battle again and again (because like his supposed enemy, he now just wants it all to be over). Destroying the Dark One, just as the Dark One plans to destroy the Pattern. It seems like at some point those come down to more or less the same thing. (A world without entropy is just stasis).

Is it really his own conviction? Or is it born of his strange link with Moridin? A path to an absolute ending, rather than one that preserves the endless cycle of time…’When you are victorious, it only leads to another battle. When he is victorious, all things will end’. Is it true reversed? When all things end, is the Dark One victorious? Even if that ending is brought about with his own destruction?

This should have been a place where farmers didn’t need to turn good lumber into quarterstaffs, nor watch strangers with eyes that expected attack.

But the storm is coming, and they must go north. There isn’t anywhere that can hope to remain truly untouched by what is to come, but that doesn’t stop Nynaeve from hating the thought. They need people like her, just as they need those who can accept that price in the name of victory. It’s a balance, of sorts. Someone has to care, and at least try to preserve what can be preserved, and spare pain where possible, and keep in mind that these are the people and the lives they are fighting for, so what good does it do if all of that is lost? Change is one thing, collateral damage is one thing, sacrifice is one thing. But to be willing to write off everything for a scorched-earth victory that leaves nothing behind to rebuild from is…beyond that. Because who does that victory serve, in the end? Except perhaps the one who wants the destruction of everything, that it can be remade in the image of chaos.

The Dragon is one with the land but the Dragon cares nothing for himself, is using himself up and just waiting to die and so why would he treat the land any differently, but to drag it behind him into this same all-consuming battle, with no hope of survival and nothing to save, to claim victory at the cost of everything?

(Self-care is realising that your wellbeing is literally linked to that of the entire world? Man, this hero business sucks).

Nynaeve is still not pleased with Cadsuane’s secrecy regarding her plan for Rand—she could learn something from Egwene, there—but is still trying to work out where Perrin might be.

Wait, she went back to the Two Rivers? That’s…the first time since EotW, and given how much that once meant to her, and how much it has shaped who she is, I’m kind of surprised we don’t get more than a throwaway line implying a visit. That seems like an important thing, for her. Even if it is just to realise how far she has come from Wisdom of Emond’s Field (and how much of that she still carries with her).

Wow, asking Rand? A character asking another character for information? I’m shocked.

Though to be perfectly honest it didn’t even really occur to me that that might be an easy way to find out. I suppose that says something about these characters and transparency.

Of course, it’s too much to hope that Rand would actually tell her.

“I am worried about him, Rand al’Thor,” she said. “He has a peaceful, unassuming nature—and always did let his friends push him around too much.”

There. Let Rand think about that.

“Unassuming,” Rand said musingly. “Yes, I suppose he is still that. But peaceful? Perrin is no longer too…peaceful.”

Wow okay yeah this is fine. That didn’t hurt unexpectedly or anything.

The way he says it so calmly, like it’s little more than discussing the weather, like the changes in his friend don’t affect him at all. He, who once tried to drive both Perrin and Mat and the rest away to avoid hurting them, and then tried to tell himself he wouldn’t use them, and then smiled like a boy when Perrin found him again in Lord of Chaos despite everything else that was happening and just wanted to talk of home. But now…nothing. No worry, no resignation, not even something like amusement or puzzlement or even self-hating satisfaction. Perrin has a beard now and also is no longer peaceful. Those two things carry approximately equal weight.

The Aiel learned, and adapted, quickly. Surprising, really.

Not at all surprising if you’ve been through the glass columns of Rhuidean. Their entire history is one of change, of adaptation, of becoming at every step something new, something further from what they once were, yet holding all the while to some core of identity to keep from being lost.

(‘Lia, you really cannot deny you have emotions when it comes to Rhuidean at least.’ JUST WATCH ME).

This particular crossroads hadn’t been important in years. If Verin or one of the other Brown sisters had been here, they’d likely have been able to explain exactly why.

TOO SOON.

Yes, go talk to Narishma. We haven’t seen nearly enough of him, given how promising his introduction was.

Also, where is Logain these days? I don’t think we’ve seen him since…Semirhage? Why is he not with this group?

“I was a cobbler’s son, Nynaeve Sedai. I know not the ways of lords and ladies.” He hesitated. “Besides, I’m not a Borderlander anymore.” The implication was clear. He would protect Rand, no matter what other allegiances tugged at him. A very Warder-like way of thought.

A Warder-like way of thought, maybe, but if so it’s one with a distinctly Lan-shaped exception.

Also, at least we’re finally dealing with that whole Borderlander situation. Even Narishma doesn’t get what could possibly have brought them here.

“A Borderlander’s place is guarding the Border,” Narishma said. “I was a cobbler’s son, and yet I was trained with the sword, spear, bow, axe and sling. Even before joining the Asha’man, I could best four of five trained southern soldiers in a duel. We live to defend. And yet they left. Now, of all times.”

SAME, NARISHMA. SAME. Seriously, how much of this current clusterfuck could have been avoided if the Borderland rulers—or at least their armies—had stayed put on the Blight like they’ve been doing for the past several centuries? They’d better have a good reason for this but I cannot for the life of me work out what it might be.

So the Borderlanders were told to bring no more than two hundred and instead they sent…one. Everything about this situation is just bizarre.

Hurin!

On second thought, delete that tone of excitement. Rand is not who he was when Hurin knew him and this seems unlikely to go well.

“Why, Lord Rand!” Hurin called, voice uneven. “It is you! Well, you’ve certainly come up in the world, I must say. Good to—”

Oh man wow that one line brings back such a strong memory of…everything about Rand in TGH. Rand when he was still young and uncertain and trying to find his way, Rand when all he wanted was to protect his friends, and counted Hurin as one of those simply because he was there and looked to Rand for help. Rand who tried to tell Hurin he was no lord, and when Hurin didn’t believe it, did his best to act the way he thought a good lord should. Rand when he joined the hunt because he just wanted to help Mat. Rand, afraid of his power but willing to use it for the sake of those he loved and cared for. Rand when he told Ingtar that to abandon Egwene would be to damn himself. Rand when he offered Ingtar redemption and then calmly defied Ishamael and—

It feels like a different character entirely, and this small reunion is such an effective way of forcing that contrast, by evoking the memory of who and what Rand was then and having to place that alongside who and what he is now.

Hurin still calls him ‘Lord Rand’. At one time, Rand was shocked at the title. Now…how long has it been since he’s been called anything but ‘Lord Dragon’? Now, ‘Lord Rand’ sounds almost informal, almost like an odd sort of endearment. Like an appeal to the person he was.

I think part of what makes this work is how…innocent Hurin’s greeting is. As if he doesn’t know everything that has changed since he last saw Rand—which he probably doesn’t. And so he comes into this scene with the assumption that Rand is the same as he was, which forces the reader to, just for a moment, share that perspective, or at least be jarred out of the present by it.

He cut off as he was raised from the ground.

Well that didn’t last long.

Though I can’t blame Rand for asking him a question only he would know the answer to, to verify his identity. And for treating him with uncertainty until then. After the disaster with Semirhage masquerading as Tuon, that’s only common sense really.

But once that’s been established…well, it would be far too much to expect of Rand, as he is now, to be friendly. To share a moment of simple reunion. Or, apparently, to even treat Hurin with anything resembling civility.

Nynaeve felt a stab of pity for the man. He was absolutely devoted to Rand.

Once, that would have meant something.

Poor Hurin. He was so good, and he didn’t ask for any of this, hasn’t done anything to deserve this, and now the man he came to idolise simply because that man was a good person to him is…well. Not.

And while someone like Nynaeve, who has been with Rand for some of the intervening time, at least has the context to understand what has changed and why, Hurin has none of that. He can’t know why Rand has suddenly become…this, or why his Lord Rand is so cold to him or any of it.

Anyway, it’s all incredibly effective use of basically an NPC to evoke a sense of…pain and loss and an even clearer, almost shocking moment of understanding just how much has changed, and what that means. Well done.

“Now that…that’s strange. Never smelled that before.”

“What?” Rand asked.

Probably just the Eau d’Indifference you’ve taken to wearing lately…

“I don’t know,” Hurin said. “The air…it smells like a lot of death, a lot of violence, only not. It’s darker. More terrible.”

A halo of darkness, a scent of violence and darkness, a ta’veren effect that twists things to the darker side of chance, a warp in the air around him…it’s been perceived and described a number of different ways at this point, but it is undeniably there. This aura of death and violence around him, this darkness, this… ‘death and betrayal. It is HIM.’ I think it’s quite likely this is, at least in large part, an effect of his touching the True Power.

Rand is not distracted by this revelation that he smells like death and violence—why would a hero be bothered about that, after all?—so we just get straight to business. Hurin’s here as a messenger to set up the real meeting, but oh wait nope Rand’s not quite done being disturbing.

“I no longer feel anger, Hurin,” Rand said. “It serves me no useful function.”

That’s…fine and normal.

Oh. They want to meet in Far Madding. Somehow I don’t think that suggestion is going to go over too well, for, oh, about a thousand different reasons.

“Well, last time you were in Far Madding, there was—”

Pain? Pain is the word you’re looking for, Hurin. Lots and lots of pain.

(Also a desire to help Lan, which he seems to have misplaced somewhere along the way, so maybe a trip to Far Madding’s Lost and Found could be of use, actually…)

“You’ll have to come inside the protection of the Guardian, you see, and—” Rand waved a curt hand, cutting off Hurin. A gateway opened immediately.

I have such a very bad feeling about this. He doesn’t even respond. Because that’s right, he doesn’t feel anger anymore. Why waste words arguing when he could be moving? But there’s no way in hell he’s about to walk into Far Madding, so…what exactly is he doing? And that’s where said bad feeling comes in.

(And when I say ‘bad feeling’ I mean…uh…feeling that this could go very badly but in a way that I am anticipating with something that is far closer to excitement than dread because as I’ve said, I like this Rand. Don’t judge me).

Rand stopped Tai’daishar, looking across the open meadow toward the ancient city of Far Madding.

Ah, yes, because Rand looking out on population centres has worked out so well in the recent past. This could go very, very wrong.

“They will know we’ve come,” Rand said softly, eyes narrowed. “They’ll have been waiting for it. They expect me to ride into their box.”

“Box?” Nynaeve asked hesitantly.

I get the feeling Nynaeve is also remembering watching Rand look out on a different city from afar. She’s clearly on edge here, afraid to say the wrong thing but also afraid of what Rand might be thinking, of what Rand could do.

“They want me where they can control me, but they don’t understand. Nobody controls me. Not anymore. I’ve had enough of boxes and prisons, of chains and ropes. Never again will I put myself into the power of another.”

Oh how Moridin would laugh, to look upon where the Fisher piece stands, and which side it currently serves. You can’t just…step out of your context like this, Rand. He sees it as being free, never realising that he is just binding himself more tightly and to all the wrong things, trapping himself, letting himself be manipulated into doing exactly what his enemy wants him to do and all the while believing it his choice. He’s trying to force control; a long time ago, he realised the futility of that, recognised that by accepting his fate and his role he could find some modicum of control. He told Mat, then, to stop running. But now…this is just another form of denial. He tells himself he accepts who he is and what he must do, but still he finds ways to fight it.

It doesn’t help that he has been imprisoned and caged too many times; how could he trust? How could he willingly walk into another’s power, when so many times before it has brought him pain? And yet he has to, somehow.

Is that what this is about? Is that, somehow, what the Borderlanders are trying to force, or test?

Still staring at the city, he reached to its place on his saddle and removed the statuette of a man holding aloft a globe.

No. Oh, no.

“Perhaps they need to be taught,” Rand said. “Given encouragement to do their duty and obey me.”

No no no.

(Yes? Maybe? I am a terrible person).

“Rand…” Nynaeve tried to think. She couldn’t let this happen again!

Oh, Nynaeve. How utterly terrifying it must be to watch this with that horrifying sense of déjà vu, and with the knowledge that if he decides to do it again there is absolutely nothing she can do to stop him. Because she’s seen him do it, she’s seen what he is now willing and able to do, she knows how far this could go and knows how close they are to that edge again, knows there is nothing truly holding him back. And yet she has to stop him, because this cannot be allowed to happen, this cannot happen again, and there is no one else here who stands a chance of talking him down.

The access key began to glow faintly. “They want to capture me,” he said softly. “Hold me. Beat me. They did it once in Far Madding already. They—”

“Rand!” Nynaeve said sharply.

He stopped, looking at her, seeing her as if for the first time.

“These are not slaves with their minds already burned away by Graendal. That is an entire city full of innocent people!”

It’s like watching him cross a line and believing it to truly be the last one, and then realising that no, he could still fall even further. Natrin’s Barrow was an atrocity but it could, just, fall under the category of ‘collateral damage’. This…these aren’t slaves to Compulsion, and they’re not even his enemy. These are his own allies, his own people, and here he stands calmly considering their destruction. Because while there apparently are still some lines he has yet to cross, he doesn’t see it that way, and so there’s nothing holding him back. And so this seems like a perfectly reasonable option—quick, effective, certain to make his point.

To see this through Nynaeve’s eyes, watching almost in slow motion as Rand stares at the city (again) and the access key begins to glow (again) and Rand is cold and unreachable (again) and she is desperate.

And somehow, because she is Nynaeve and because, perhaps, she has always felt so deeply and always worn her heart on her sleeve and never been able to make herself not care, because Rand knows this and has entrusted to her the duty of caring where he cannot…something in that manages to reach him. At least enough to get his attention.

She is his conscience, in a way. One last, tenuous check. Because she does still see those lines he has not yet crossed, those lines he is approaching all too quickly, those lines he no longer sees because in his mind he has already crossed the last and is now just in freefall.

What a position to be in, for her.

“I wouldn’t harm the people of the city,” Rand said, voice emotionless.

You say that like it’s obvious but at this current point, it really is anything but, Rand. And it’s not because he has any…aversion to it. It just wouldn’t serve his purpose.

(I have such a weakness for that in a character—that wholly amoral pragmatism that looks like moral limits purely because there are things that don’t make tactical or strategic senseThings that seem to be off the table because ‘even I would never do such a thing’ but really are just off the table in this particular situation because they bring no advantage).  

(But it’s not how Rand should be).

“That army deserves the demonstration, not the city. A rain of fire upon them, perhaps. Or lightning to strike and bite.”

This from the man who despaired at having to strike some of his own at the gates of Cairhien, to keep the Shaido from reaching the gate. This from the man who all but wept, sitting in the rain and mud, after Callandor caused him to kill his own army and the Seanchan indiscriminately. This from the man who begged Lews Therin, when he was controlling the weaves, to take a few seconds from fighting Trollocs to put out the fires that were killing his soldiers. Hell, this from a man who didn’t even try violence to put down a rebellion. And now he speaks so calmly of what these allies of his ‘deserve’. As a ‘demonstration’.

“They have done nothing other than ask you to meet with them!” Nynaeve said.

She could not get through to him about Lan, not when strategy and Lan’s own choices were against her, but here…this is different and she knows it, and she desperately needs Rand to know it, and to understand. Or at least to listen to her, and to…trust that she understands something even if he doesn’t. He trusts her to feel for him, to dream on his behalf, to care on his behalf. And so he needs to trust her to do that now, trust her to act as a check on his power. To listen to her and hold back, not because he sees any reason to but because she does and he trusts her to feel the things he cannot, and therefore to know that this is something he should not do. It’s an odd sort of dynamic, but it could just work. Maybe.

Most of what she has going on her behalf here, I think, is that she’s not trying for persuasion or ‘reasoned arguments’ or manipulation of any sort. She’s literally just…begging him. She is desperate, and more empathetic than most could tolerate, and it’s just a raw, naked plea born of that desperation and empathy. Not just for those people, but for Rand himself; even if he refuses to acknowledge what this would do to him, she doesn’t.

That ter’angreal sat like a viper in his hand. Once, it had cleansed the Source.

Wow, that was…an unexpectedly impactful line. Okay. Uh. That came out of nowhere. Damn.

“Rand,” she said softly. “If you do this, there will be no turning back.”

“There’s already no turning back for me, Nynaeve,” he said, his eyes intense.

(Okay, fine, I admit it, I have emotions. Maybe one or two. At most four.)

A few things here. The first is the way Nynaeve’s words imply that it’s a simple fact that there is still a way back, as far as she sees it. She doesn’t even bother to make that point, because it doesn’t need to be made; she takes it as a given. Even after what he has done, he has not yet gone too far. There’s a certain…grace, almost, in how she gives him that implication without even thinking about it, without being asked for it. She does not for a moment think he is beyond forgiveness.

Yet.

And then, combined with Rand’s response, it makes the point I was dancing around earlier: she can still see gradations where all he sees is darkness; she can see lines he has not yet crossed, where all he sees is that last one behind him. She fears for him, because he is approaching the truly unforgivable, while he believes he already is.

The ‘freedom’ he has found is the belief that nothing matters now—that there is nothing left for him to hold on to, that he is already beyond forgiveness or redemption, that he can’t make it worse because he’s already crossed over the last line where those gradations matter, so there’s no point holding back because nothing makes a difference.

Except that morality is relative and Nynaeve does not see those lines the same way Rand does, and so Nynaeve is watching him move closer and closer to the edge of the cliff and is trying desperately to keep him from falling, while in Rand’s own view, he already has.

And so the fact that he believes himself past that point is itself what would enable him to truly cross it; it’s a terrifyingly sharp contrast in just two lines of these viewpoints, and of what it really means that Rand sees himself as beyond the point of turning back. That, almost more than what he’s actually done, is the truly frightening part, and I think this is where Nynaeve really sees that.

“My feet started on this path the moment Tam found me crying on that mountain.”

It’s the issue of agency versus destiny again; Rand is now in a place where not only does he think he’s crosssed all the lines and therefore is free to act as he may because he’s damned anyway, but he’s also in this weird place where, for all that he does consider himself damned by his actions, he almost absolves himself of all responsibility for them.

Or, no, that’s not quite it. He just…absolves himself of all agency and all self at all. He has the freedom to do anything he chooses, anything he deems necessary…and he also has no choice at all, no self he is allowed to claim. It’s a paradox and it makes my brain hurt but it also makes perfect sense, from where he’s standing. It’s like he looked at ‘shoulder all the responsibility’ and ‘take no responsibility’ and ‘find the freedom to act as you will’ and ‘chain yourself to destiny’ and somehow managed to find that one central place in the venn diagram of all those circles where it just maximises pain.

Also…the moment Tam found him crying on the mountain. Could that be what ‘stand on his grave and weep’ is about? I suppose it’s possible but that would feel a little…cheap, somehow, given that we’re only getting that line of the (Seanchan versions of the) prophecies now, and there’s so much else pointing at Dragonmount, but…maybe. Or maybe I was right earlier and this is a form of foreshadowing, which would be fitting.

“You don’t have to kill anyone today. Please.”

He turned to look back at the city. Slowly, mercifully, the access key stopped glowing.

A much more accurate use of ‘mercy’, all things considered.

She’s just…all she has is her desperation and the last threads of a connection to him and she’s pulling him back from the edge of a cliff he can’t even let himself see, and the fact that she manages it, that she manages somehow to reach him, is remarkable. She’s not trying to manipulate, here. She’s not even shouting at him or angry at him or scolding him. It’s just stripped-down desperate pleading, and from Nynaeve, the one he trusts to carry his dreams and his caring and to some extent his conscience, it reaches him.

Maybe because she so easily offered him the forgiveness he no longer lets himself seek. Without even saying as much—just by saying that this would make it impossible, thereby implying that as things stand, it is possible. He may not believe her, but perhaps that was enough to reach some part of him, still. Enough to make him go along with her, to let her hold on to that dream a little longer (to let himself, even if he cannot admit it?)

Anyway, the result is that Rand is now using his words rather than his balefire, to dictate his own terms. Terms that amount to ‘go to the Blight like you’re supposed to or else your great-great-great grandchildren will call you cowards’, but still.

Hurin stayed behind. He still looked shaken. His reunion with ‘Lord Rand’ had obviously been far from what he expected.

Poor Hurin. He did absolutely nothing to deserve this (except be Rand’s friend, once. And now he pays the price for that, as Rand always feared his friends would pay the price for his existence and friendship).

So much for that. We still don’t’ know why the Borderlanders are here, and here they still are, and it’s another negotiation or treaty or whatever you want to call it that he’s just…walking away from.

As Nynaeve climbed off of Moonlight and handed the reins to a ruddy-faced stable worker, Rand walked past her. “Look for a statue,” he said.

“What?” she asked with surprise.

He glanced back at her, stopping. “You asked where Perrin was. He’s camped with an army beneath the shade of an enormous fallen statue shaped like a sword stabbing the earth.”

‘Just look for the giant beacon of symbolism and you’ll find him’.

It’s so…surprising, though. And yet it’s very, very Rand. To unexpectedly offer her this, something she asked for a while ago but now feels out of context, freely, because that’s how his sense of honour works.

It reminds me of that scene between him and Egwene in LoC when just about everything else goes straight to hell but then he answers her questions about Travelling, honestly and directly and with no other motive but that she asked and he knows the answer.

Add to that the fact that he didn’t tell Nynaeve this the first time she asked, and it’s as if he’s thanking her, in the only way he really can at this point, for holding him back. He can’t let himself feel, but he has delegated that to her and she’s doing it and this much, he can give her. Maybe it will help.

Mostly though, this just gets to me because it feels so like how Rand used to be, even for just a moment. Trusting. Helpful. She asked him a question and then all kinds of other things happened but he made a point of remembering it and giving her the answer. There are remnants, still, of who he was and they show up at these odd points and it’s…lovely and so very sad.

Ah. She sees it too.

“Why tell me?” she asked, walking alongside him across the yard of packed earth. She hadn’t expected him to give up the information—he had gotten into the habit of holding onto whatever he knew, even if that knowledge was meaningless.

“Because,” he said, striding toward the keep, voice growing almost too soft to hear. “I…have a debt to you for caring when I cannot.”

I’M FINE.

I could have saved myself some words by just turning the page, because Rand straight-up says what I was thinking, but me being pleased with myself is being crowded out by ‘dream on my behalf’ and ‘I have a debt to you for caring when I cannot’ and Rand still having that strange sense of honour and recognising exactly what he’s doing even if he can’t stop it and yet listening to Nynaeve and knowing how deep his debt to her runs because she does care, and it matters to him that she does, and he knows what he’s lost and what he’s become and I am completely okay with all of this. Totally fine. Entirely unaffected.

It hurts.

But in the best way.

There was a wet scent to the air, the smell of new rain, and she could feel that she’d missed a sprinkle. Not enough to clear the air or muddy the ground, but enough to leave wetted sections of stone in shaded corners.

I see what you did there. The Land is one with the Dragon, after all, and Nynaeve’s weather sense has long since moved into the realm of the symbolic.

I really like this particular example, though. Soft and barely enough to make a noticeable change, not enough to ‘clear the air’, but it’s something. Rand telling her where Perrin is, after he’s destroyed one fortress with balefire and nearly destroyed a city and still thinks he is beyond redemption and therefore beyond limits, is…a small step, and perhaps not even a step, but it’s something.

Also, for all that in my head Rand is linked with the wind because that’s what we start every book with, and it is itself linked to the notion of beginnings and endings and something pervasive and all-reaching, we do see Rand linked to rain as well at significant moments. Bringing rain to the Waste as he declared himself, and water to the fountains of Rhuidean before he leaves. Letting the rain fall on him as he recognises his failure outside of Ebou Dar. ‘I am the storm’. But here it’s not a storm, nothing dramatic, just a barely-noticeable fall of new rain.

Time to report to Cadsuane.

Cadsuane herself was speaking quietly to Min, whom she had all but appropriated in recent days. Min herself didn’t seem to mind, perhaps because it wasn’t easy to spend time with Rand these days. Nynaeve felt a stab of sympathy for the girl. Nynaeve only had to deal with Rand as a friend; all of this would be much harsher on the one who shared his heart.

And that Min of all people has reached that point, that even she who has stayed by Rand’s side through just about everything in the last several books is finding it painful to be near him, is telling.

Yet it’s Nynaeve who Rand relies on to care when he cannot. His friend, not his lover. It’s a different sort of bond, and a different sort of anchor, but in this case no less…strong, or valuable. Or maybe that’s just me projecting.

Cadsuane manages the sort of dismissive compliments only she can, and still doesn’t want to talk about her plans. Maybe she and Egwene should have a chat about the values of transparency.

“You’d hold this knowledge back, even if it means the lives of those you hold dear?”

Really, Cadsuane, one could ask you the same thing. But secrecy and evasion are hard habits to break.

“Did he take it well?” Nynaeve repeated flatly. “That depends. Does pulling out that blasted ter’angreal and threatening to rain down fire on the army strike you as ‘Taking it well’?”

Min paled. Cadsuane raised an eyebrow.

“I stopped him,” Nynaeve said. “But just barely. I don’t know. It…it might be getting to late to do anything to change him.”

And what it must cost her to admit that. Nynaeve, who will do anything and everything to protect those she loves, but how can she protect him from himself? And what can she do when it is the world that needs protecting from him? But it’s not in her nature to just give up, and to do so with Rand would mean ceasing to protect him, ceasing to try to Heal him, and she cares too much to do that, but what else can she do? She’s caught in a place where no matter what she tries, there will be pain for someone.

Meanwhile Corele puts way too much stock in prophecies. You’re missing a crucial piece, Corele: for prophecies and visions to work, the world has to exist.

“If Rand loses, there is no Pattern.”

As readers, we know that there is a Fourth Age, at least, from some of the epigraphs. But the point here is something I talked about recently—it’s not so much about whether Light will win against Shadow; it’s not about whether the world will survive or perish, but instead is about what it will take to get there, what it will cost, how they can possibly bring about that success from this point and what it will demand of them. How much farther they can fall and still have a chance of survival. What kind of survival that will be.

To the characters themselves, there is no guarantee. But I think this serves a secondary purpose as a sign to the reader that even if there seems to be evidence that everything will be okay—for a given value of ‘okay’—there is still so  much at stake here, and it’s not a simple path. It’s not going to be easy, and it may not come without a price, and it’s not a simple guarantee.

It’s a focus not on the ‘what will happen’ but on the ‘how’, and it’s a reminder that whatever you think you know about how this ends, it is not so simple.

As far as Nynaeve is concerned, that adds up to needing to tell Cadsuane what she knows of Perrin’s location, even if she’s annoyed at Cadsuane’s secrecy. This is not the time to hold anything back. And yes, that could easily be said of Cadsuane as well, but the point is more that someone has to take the first step. Nynaeve can’t afford a power struggle with Cadsaune over information right now, not with the entire world at stake.

“In answer to your question earlier, child, Perrin actually isn’t important to our plans.”

“He isn’t?” Nynaeve asked. “But—”

Cadsuane raised a finger. “There are people with him who are vital. One in particular.”

TAM?

I’m not sure if that’s in capslock out of excitement or total dread but…let’s just go with both.

Because given Rand’s entire…*waves hands at everything*…it seems all but impossible for this to go well, which means it could go so, so badly, but on the other hand, TAM. AND RAND. IT’S BEEN TWELVE BOOKS.

I HAVE BEEN WANTING THIS REUNION FOR LITERAL YEARS.

But like this?

Next (TGS ch 45) Previous (TGS ch 43)

[simkjrs]

ch6 asks, cont’d.

Anonymous said: read the latest chapter and honestly even though im screaming in agony, i absolutely love this drama. i really cant wait to see where youre going with this. it also makes me happy to see you make so many good characters autistic, it feels nice to be able to relate to actions. also, izuku's entire internal conflict in this chapter? BIG MOOD.

fdjdkljf happy to hear someone’s enjoying it!! also, thank you for the feedback -- it’s nice to know that i’ve done alright,representation-wise. :^)

Anonymous said: just wanted to tell you that i'm at the spot when izuku basically tells it like it is to kacchan. and it's pretty much spot on. from what i can tell. from real life experiences. I sincerely hope that this time in your life is past if you've had to experience something like this or you have people you can turn to. otherwise, dude, you are scarily good at writing. i'm seriously afraid of how this conversation is going to turn out. the chapter's really beautiful and honestly just inspiring. thank u

this is such a nice ask i didnt know what to do with myself after reading it? 

no comment on my real life situation except that everything’s fine right now. i haven’t experienced everything that izuku is dealing with (or at least.. not to that degree?) SO i’m just extrapolating beyond my own life & experiences, and also incorporating what i’ve learned by reading through accounts by people who have actually lived through these things. thank you for writing in, and thank you for your concern 

@ceilingbattles​ said: I just wanted to say thank you so much for the new chapter <3 honestly its my favourite fanfiction, and I just really appreciate all the work you put into it, its amazing!!! (I don't have an ao3 account, just really wanted to let you know). Also just wow. that was a chapter. 100% worth it, I will read it repetitively on my phone as I have the rest of the fic.

thank you!! it’s really nice to hear that, and i feel incredibly honored to have written someone’s favorite fic. i hope it continues to live up to your expectations!

Anonymous said: i feel like byggualom! izuku and suneater would get along very well. kindred spirits kinda thing

both of them have massive anxiety so they can definitely empathize with each other, and i think izuku would do his best to accommodate suneater! it would be really exhausting for izuku though, i think, so while they’d get along well i don’t know if they’d be good for each other for extended periods of time. anxiety echo chamber

@aliceofbrokendreams​ said: Can I give you a hug? Cause if writing the first half invoked as much emotion as it did in me reading it, you should have one.

yeah... it was really hard writing this chapter. thank you 

@slightlyobssesive​ said: I would just like to say that this chapter took me four hours to read and then another one to compose myself to type this. On one hand I absolutely adore you because some parts had me so happy and the portrayal of Izuku's abuse is handled so well. On the other hand though I am cradling my heart that has been shattered into about 3 million pieces and screaming why because this chapter emotionally destroyed me. I cannot properly express my current feelings in this small amount of space just WHYYYY

im sorry but also im completely not sorry, THANK YOU FOR READING DESPITE YOUR DEEP PERSONAL SUFFERING 

and also thanks for your feedback re: the representation of izuku’s abuse! i’m glad i was able to convey it well!

@abrcmhatford​ said: i uh wanna say that i really appreciate how you're handling izuku's reaction to realizing that yeah, it was abuse, because people brush over the recovery a lot, and i've been in izuku's shoes and i think you captured the entirety of it really well. it's rough and it's really hard and it's still hard and i like how you didn't just ignore the gritty details and kept pushing. thanks

yeah! i wanted to write something that was about recovery, and moving forward, and doing your best despite your circumstances. i pulled on my own experiences with depression and other things to try and write this, and what i learned, so... i’m happy to hear it resonated with someone else too. i hope that you’re out of that situation now, and that things are better for you. thank you for your feedback. it means a lot to me. 

@angryqueermermaid​ said: you. absolute motherfucker.

alright now that name calling is out of the way I must say that you have the BEST portrayal of depression and anxiety I have EVER seen. like. holy shit my guy. the entire ch I was just like. "same? same. SAME." and, well, while that was a fucking kick in the pants, it was so.... confusingly cathartic??? in a good way??? to watch izuku struggle with the shit I have felt, in ALL aspects of life like being vunerable and/or high energy/socialization settings. fucking. GOD MY KOKORO.

FUCK WHAT I'M TRYING TO IS THAT YOU DID GOOD

i once saw a quote that said something like, “if you want to make someone a monster to society, first make sure they never see themselves in your stories.” it’s a morbid quote, but i feel like it explains well why it’s so meaningful when you see yourself reflected in a story. i know the first time i read a chinese-american protagonist, and one who wasn’t interested in romance to boot, i was in junior high and it made me so happy because i’d never had that representation before. 

that’s one of the reasons i write so many characters with mental illnesses or trauma -- i don’t see enough of us in mainstream stories, and i think those stories need to be told, just so we can remember that we aren’t alone. i’m really glad you found catharsis reading chapter 6, and that i was able to catch some of those struggles you go through. thank you for writing in!

Anonymous said: OF COURSE YOU POSTED YOUR LONG-AWAITED SIXTH CHAPTER IN JUNE

and yet, i missed the anniversary!!!! a failure!!!!

Anonymous said: sometimes I just go to your blog to make sure you're okay. like of you're blogging then you're either okay or trying your hardest

i’m not actually sure if this was a ch6 asks but it was sent with the rest so. thank you. it soothes me to know that someone out there is thinking of my wellbeing, because i sure don’t and i guess someone has to. (but in all seriousness, that’s really sweet)

Anonymous said: Hey! I just wanted to let you know that I loved the chapter 6 a lot! As a writer, I can understand not being entirely happy with your work, but as someone who recently got out of a very unhealthy situation, it makes me happy that you put it up anyway! Izuku's recovery mimicked mine in a lot of ways, especially the coming to terms with it. His talk with Yagi about grief hit very close to home, but also was very inspiring, if that makes any sense!! So sincerely, thank you so much! ^u^

i’m really happy to hear that!! i tried to catch the feeling / moment i had when i was getting through my depression, where for two weeks or so i was so miserable all the time and just wanted to... stop. it’s hard to explain, but one day i got up in the morning and knew that i was just tired of all this, tired of stagnating in the same place and tired of being miserable all the time, and maybe i couldn’t get rid of my depression but at the very least i had to try. if i was able to convey any of that through izuku’s conversation with yagi, then i’m satisfied. thank you!!

Anonymous said: Thank you for sharing your writing with us

and thank you for appreciating it! <3

@chocowl​ said:  From start to end this was a rly good chap. The recovery process, the relationships, and everything else was so good. I esp liked how Izuku mobilised his network and how Katsu got some Consequences. And Mitoki... much gold as always! Altogether: thank you for this journey! I loved it and i love you for creating such amazing content. Ihope you have an amazing day and time! :) xoxo

(sorry i split up your asks into two different posts! categorization purposes...)

i’m really glad you enjoyed that!! i worked so hard on the emotional atmosphere of this chapter, haha. glad to see it paid off. <3 <3 thank you for all your feedback, too, and also the really nice art you’ve made for me!

Anonymous said: someone made a pinterest board for The Fic! it looks p small rn (111 pins?) but its kinda cute

i don’t have a pinterest account so sadly i can’t zoom over and check it out, but wow... i’m really honored!! thank you for letting me know! 

Anonymous said: later, when Eri comes in- what would happen if byggualom!izuku was shot by Eri's quirk-removing drug? everyone's expecting something to happen but Izuku would be fine, considering he has no quirk (as far as he knows?)

muscular used izuku’s body to smash a concrete sidewalk into smithereens and izuku didn’t have so much as a scratch, one of the quirk-removing drugs’ bullets wouldn’t even have a chance. so actually, everyone’s question would be “what the hell is up with your skin” 

anyways, if you’re wondering if we’ll ever get a reveal, don’t worry. it’s coming. :^)